#this is just temporary and I know I'll cool off in a bit but I am MAD rn

[yannysifgen]

Small fgo rant please look away

I have never hated a fictional character more than I do Oberon at this moment.

Why? He came home right?

WRONG!! I dragged him home out of pure spite - that's the 330 pity right there, him appearing at the very last slot is just salt in the wound.

Never in my entire life did I think I'd EVER do an fgo pity - 330 sounded like a ridiculous amount to save up but turns out that was exactly how much untapped resources my account had (I like to leave free quests and milestone rewards alone as emergency funds and that's exactly what happened here)

This reminds me why I left fgo 2.5 years ago, I want to quit again already. Only reason I bothered getting Oberon (and Koyanskaya) was to enable my favorite, Ereshkigal, my wife, love of my life, to be viable again in speedier buster comps. I would do anything for her and that's what I'll chalk this travesty to. My saving grace is the fact I haven't spent a dime on this game at least.

Seriously, fuck Oberon.

[nosyp]

Don't you miss me babe?

Warning = stalking, controlling behaviour, toxic relationships, toxic michael kaiser, manipulation

Pairing = Michael Kaiser x reader

Summary = Michael Kaiser begging for you to come back but you aren't having none of it.

Word count = 3.8k

A/N = I kinda hate this, maybe I'll rewrite in the future

The hum of the plane engine filled the cabin, a constant, soothing rhythm that masked the restless whispers of passengers and the occasional clatter of the flight attendants’ carts. You leaned your head against the cool window, eyes tracing the endless expanse of clouds below, their fluffy edges glowing softly in the sunlight.

The world seemed so small from far away up here. You clutched the boarding pass in your lap, the crinkled paper a tangible reminder of where you were headed… and what you’d left behind.

A voice crackled over the intercom, the pilot announcing the estimated arrival time, but the words barely registered. Your mind was elsewhere, replaying the moments that had brought you to this seat at 30,000 feet in the air.

The stranger beside you shifted, snapping the book shut in the process. "Long flight, huh?" he said, their tone light.

You still stared out of the window, surprised by the interruption and too scared to meet their eyes. The voice sounded so familiar, that scared you. There was no way right?

“Yeah," you murmured, unsure whether to continue the conversation or retreat back into your own thoughts.

“Why’re you flying?” he asks, looking at the clutched boarding pass in your lap.

You look up at him, meeting his eyes. Shit. It was your ex, Michael Kaiser. 

Your breath caught in your throat, your stomach twisted and turned inside your stomach. Of all the people in the world, why him? You’d worked so hard to leave Michael Kaiser in the past, but here he was, seated right beside you in the plane.

“Kaiser,” you bit out, your tone laced with venom.

His smirk widened at the sound of his name. “The one and only,” he said smoothly, leaning back in his seat as if he hadn’t noticed that you were staring daggers at him. “Fancy seeing you here. Guess it’s fate, huh?”

“Fate?” You scoffed, shifting away from him as much as the cramped airplane seat would allow. “More like a sick joke.”

He chuckled, the sound grating on your nerves. “Still so feisty. I missed that about you.”

Your fingers tightened around the boarding pass in your lap. “What part of I never want to see you again didn’t you understand?”

Kaiser leaned closer, his cologne annoyingly familiar. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. We had something special.”

“Special?” You turned to him, eyebrows raised. “If by special, you mean you constantly acted like the world revolved around you and couldn’t take no for an answer, then yeah, it was real special.”

His confident grin faltered for a split second before he recovered, brushing off your words like they were nothing. “You’re just angry because you know I’m right. Deep down, you still–”

“Don’t,” you interrupted sharply, your voice low and firm. “Don’t even finish that sentence.”

For a moment, silence settled between you, giving you the temporary moment of peace you needed. Kaiser opened his mouth, probably to deliver another infuriating line, but you held up a hand.

“I’m not doing this, Kaiser. Not here, not now, not ever. So save your breath and just go.”

He stared at you, his smirk slipping into something more subdued, a softer smile, but you refused to let your guard down. The tension between you and Kaiser was so intense it almost felt real. He leaned closer again, his face now inches from yours, and this time, the smirk was gone, a dark smile now present on his face.

“I don’t think you understand, do you?” His voice low, almost a whisper, but still somehow able to send shivers up your spine. “You think you’re moving on, but I know you’re not. Not really.”

You stiffened, resisting the urge to shove him away. “You don’t get it, Kaiser,” you spat, your teeth gritting. “I hate you. I never want to see you again, I never want to talk to you again. So what the fuck are you doing here?”

He didn’t move, his presence suffocating. “Oh come on… just calm down. You can say that all you want, but I know you. You can’t just erase me from your life. We were good together and… I was the only one who could truly understand you.”

Your pulse quickened. He was crossing every line, and still, you couldn’t bring yourself to back down. He was right. No matter how much you hated to admit it, there was always that nagging feeling, that memory of the way he’d manipulated everything around you. He knew exactly what buttons to push and how to push it.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you managed to say, weakly.

Kaiser leaned in even closer, his breath brushing your ear. “You might think you’re over me, but I can see it in your eyes. You’re still looking for me. You need me.”

Your stomach churned. “Shut. Up.” The words were shaky, but you forced them out. “You have no right to talk to me like that. Not after everything.”

He chuckled softly, that familiar, infuriating laugh that always made your skin crawl. “What’s wrong, babe? You’re still mad about how I left? You’re still pissed off about everything? Do you think you’re the only one who’s suffered?”

The sudden rush of emotions hit you like a truck, all the feelings of anger, disgust, and hurt all blending together in a raw, overwhelming mix. “You’re unbelievable. I hope you know that.”

His eyes gleamed with that sharp, calculating look you remembered too well. “Maybe. But I know exactly how this ends.” He slid his hand closer to yours, his fingers brushing against your wrist, the touch making you recoil.

“No,” you hissed, shoving his hand away, a hot surge of adrenaline rushing through you. “You have no idea how this ends, because it ends now. I don’t owe you anything. Not an explanation, not closure, nothing. You lost that long ago.”

For a moment, Kaiser’s smirk faltered, finally. He was visibly frustrated from the words that you decided to spew out. “You’ll come around. You always do.” His tone was almost... patronizing. Like he was speaking to a child.

You stared at him, trembling with the effort to keep your anger in check. “You’re insane if you think I’ll ever forgive you.”

His eyes never left yours, unwavering. “It’s not about forgiveness, babe. It’s about me getting what I want.”

The words hit you harder than any of his previous ones, and a cold dread settled in your chest. He wasn’t backing down, not this time. He was going to make you believe that you owed him something. He was going to make you need him again.

And for the first time, you wondered if he really would win.

“Don’t touch me,” you warned, your voice shaking despite the rage bubbling inside.

His smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it deepened. “You know, you really don’t know how much you still care. But don’t worry, I’ll remind you.”

The way he said it disgusted you. It wasn’t a plea or even an attempt to reason with you. It was a command, words that were supposed to manipulate you into thinking you’d need him. He never understood the word no. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

“You really think you can book a seat next to me and just start talking to me as if everything’s fine?” You bit out, your voice sharper now, holding onto your anger like a weapon. “Like you didn’t tear me apart?”

Kaiser tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with that damnable amusement. “Tear you apart?” He laughed, a low sound that made your skin crawl. “If anything, you tore yourself apart. I just showed you who you really were. All those walls you put up? I broke them down. You didn’t know who you were before me.”

Every word hit like a slap. The guilt, the self-doubt that had been buried under the layers of anger and resentment you’d carefully built after the breakup, started to bubble to the surface. He knew exactly how to chip away at you, to make you question everything.

“I was fine before you,” you snapped, forcing your emotions to stay in check, but the crack in your voice betrayed you. “I was better before you. And you know what? I don’t need you to remind me of anything.”

His expression shifted slightly, the smirk faltering for a moment before it returned, darker now, colder. He leaned in even closer, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re wrong. You need me more than you’ll ever admit. And I’m not going anywhere, babe. You’re mine.”

That last word settled over you like a shadow, its weight sinking into your chest. There was no mistaking it now. He wasn’t just trying to get back with you—he was trying to reclaim you, to possess you again. The same twisted control he’d held over you before was there, lurking in every word he spoke.

“No,” you managed, barely a whisper, but firm enough to choke back the crushing weight of his presence. “You lost your chance. You can’t own me anymore, Kaiser.”

He stared at you for a long moment, eyes narrowing, observing every detail of you. Then, as if he’d come to some conclusion, his lips curled into a sinister smile.

“You’ll see. You’ll come crawling back. They all do eventually.” His tone was so confident it made you want to scream, to slap that smug look off his face. But you kept still, trying to hold onto whatever piece of sanity you had.

But as the seconds stretched on and turned into minutes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he could be right.

And that thought… oh that thought… it was far more terrifying than anything you could ever imagine.

Kaiser’s smirk stayed on his face. The air around you started to feel suffocating now. Every word he spoke was like a jagged blade carving through your defenses, and despite every instinct telling you to fight, you felt a momentary crack in your resolve.

“You really think you can move on?” he continued, his voice calm but edged with something darker. “You think you can just forget everything we were? All the things we shared? All the things I gave you?”

The words sliced through you, and for a split second, a memory flashed. You’d suddenly remember the feeling of his touch, his words, the moments where he did make you feel like you were everything. And then, in the next moment, everything could change. Those sweet memories turning into something bitter.

“No,” you spat. “I’m not the same person anymore, and you’re not the same either. In fact, you’ve probably gotten worse. You were always the selfish one, always looking out for yourself. You can’t just come back into my life and pretend things are different.”

His eyes glinted with something that looked almost like amusement. “Selfish?” he repeated, his voice dangerously soft. “Maybe. But you’re no saint either. You’re a mess, and deep down, you know that. You’re just too scared to admit it.”

Your heart pounded harder, anger flashing through your veins. “Stop trying to manipulate me!” you hissed, your fist tightening on the armrest. “This is exactly what you did before. You don’t care about me… you care about winning. About controlling me. About making me need you again. I bet it makes your ego thrive huh?”

Kaiser leaned back in his seat, as if satisfied by the effect his words were having on you. “So what if I do?” he drawled, his voice lazy. “I’ve always had control over you, and I know you hate admitting it. But every time I’ve walked away from you, you’ve always come crawling back. You always do.” 

All of a sudden, his voice dropped to a whisper. “Just like I said. You’ll come to me when you’re ready. When you realize no one will ever love you the way I did.”

Your stomach churned, the darkness of his words wrapping around you and squeezing you. But even with the lump rising in your throat, something in you refused to give up. You weren’t the same person anymore, not the one who’d been caught in his grip.

“Not this time,” you managed to say, voice trembling but defiant. “You don’t control me. You never did.”

Kaiser chuckled again, but this time it was devoid of warmth. Icy. Like he was savoring something, like he knew you’d eventually break. He slid his gaze over to you, leaning forward again, too close for comfort. His breath ghosted over your ear as he spoke, low and chilling.

“I never needed to control you, babe,” he whispered, voice thick with unspoken threats. “Because you were always mine to break. And that’s the thing… no matter how hard you try, how many times you escape… I will always find a way.” 

His fingers grazed your wrist once again, with more force this time, gripping your skin with a cruel sort of finality. “You don’t get to walk away from me. Not again.”

The sound of the plane’s engines seemed to fade into the background, like the world was narrowing down to just the two of you. 

You fought back the tears about to burst from your eyes, clenching your jaw until it hurt. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you break, not again. This time, you wouldn’t let him win.

“You’re wrong,” you said through clenched teeth. “I’m done.”

Kaiser didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “We both know you’re lying,” he murmured. “And when you finally admit the truth, when you realize that you still… need me, you’ll come running. And I’ll be right here, waiting. Because I always will be.”

You could feel his hot breath on your skin, the pressure of his presence pushing in on you from all sides. His hold on you wasn’t physical, not just yet. But emotionally? Mentally? He was already in control, and the thought sent an icy shiver down your spine.

But as the plane hummed on, you took a shaky breath and refused to let him see how deeply he was getting under your skin.

This wasn’t over. And it never would be, not until you stopped letting him invade every part of you.

For the rest of the flight, Kaiser didn’t try to disturb you, luckily. Though, his presence still hovered in the corner of your mind, like a shadow you couldn’t escape, but he still kept his distance. Maybe it was all a game to him, or perhaps he realized that pushing you further would only make things more complicated. Either way, you were thankful for the quiet, for the ability to breathe without his voice invading every thought.

You tried to focus on something, anything, to distract yourself. The seatbelt sign flickered on and off occasionally as the plane made its way through the clouds, and you found yourself staring at the small plastic tray in front of you, as though it held the answers to all your questions.

But the longer the silence stretched between you, the more you realized how fragile it all was. What if he didn’t stop? What if this wasn’t just some twisted game to him? What if Kaiser really could find a way back into your life, despite everything you’d worked to leave behind?

The more you thought about it, the more anxious you became. His words echoed in your mind.

“You’ll come crawling back.”

“They all do eventually.”

“I’ll remind you.” 

“You’re mine.”

Each sentence was a poison, spreading through your thoughts, and you could almost feel yourself slipping. But you clenched your fists, dug your nails into your palms, and reminded yourself that no, you’re not going back. Ever.

You glanced out the window, the endless sea of clouds below you offering some semblance of calm. The gentle sway of the plane became a lullaby, coaxing your thoughts into a haze. But even in that moment of peace, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of Kaiser’s words.

Suddenly, a soft thud broke the silence. You turned your head to find Kaiser leaning back in his seat, eyes closed, seemingly relaxed. His arms were crossed over his chest, but there was something about the way he sat made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

It was like he was waiting for something, watching you out of the corner of his eye, studying your every movement. He wasn’t bothering you, but his presence was still suffocating, like a constant reminder that he was never too far away.

You forced yourself to look away, focusing back on the soft hum of the engines, trying to keep your mind from spiraling. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to engage with him, because you certainly didn’t. It was more that you knew that if you let him in again, even just a little, you might never get out.

The flight seemed to stretch on endlessly. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, and the closer you got to your destination, the more you felt that sense of oncoming doom closing in on you. You had no idea what was going to happen once you both landed. Was this just another round of his twisted game, or would he try to force himself back into your life for good?

The intercom crackled once again, and the pilot’s voice filled the cabin, announcing the final descent. You braced yourself, hands gripping the armrest as you stared straight ahead, trying to steady your breath. You couldn’t shake the feeling that once this flight was over, you would have to face him, face the reality of everything he had dragged you through, and decide if you were really strong enough to walk away for good.

But for now, you have to survive the next few minutes. The next few moments of silent tension, of being stuck in this small metal tube with someone who knew exactly how to hurt you.

And for now, you held onto one truth. That one small, defiant thought: You won’t let him win. Not again.

As the plane descended, the sense of tension looming above you and Kaiser worsened. The hum of the engines was no longer a soothing background; now, it felt oppressive, like it made the sound of his words louder. You could feel his presence near you.

Just when you thought you could breathe again, the silence was broken by the soft sound of him shifting in his seat. He moved, and you immediately tensed, instinctively turning your body toward the aisle, trying to put a physical distance between the two of you. But it was too late.

Without warning, Kaiser slid closer to you, settling into the seat beside you as if he had every right to. His arm brushed against yours, and your body went stiff at the contact. His proximity was unbearable, but you didn’t dare react. Not yet. You were caught in a limbo of wanting to flee and wanting to not give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm.

He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel his eyes on you, watching, studying. The air was thick with unspoken words, the weight of his gaze on your skin like a brand. You tried to focus on the window, hoping the world outside could somehow offer you escape, but he was relentless.

“Comfortable?” His voice was low, smooth.

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to snap back. Instead, you forced yourself to stay still, to ignore the adrenaline thrumming through your veins. “I’m fine,” you muttered, the words clipped.

“Sure you are,” he said, his tone laced with disbelief, though he was oddly calm. “You’ve been quiet since I sat down. Very unlike you.”

The arrogance in his voice made your blood boil, but you kept your hands clenched in your lap, trying to keep your temper in check. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you react.

Kaiser let out a soft chuckle, the sound sliding under your skin like a snake, crawling its way into your thoughts. “You’re still angry,” he observed, eyes flicking over you in a way that made you want to crawl out of your own skin. “I can tell.”

You swallowed hard, refusing to give him an inch. The memory of everything he had done to you. You hated him. Hated him so much you could feel your chest tightening with it.

“I’m not angry,” you said through gritted teeth, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. “I’m just… so tired of you.”

His smile didn’t falter, but there was something darker behind his eyes now. “You’ve said that before,” he murmured, leaning just a little closer. “And yet, here you are. With me.”

The distance between you seemed to close even more, and you felt the edges of your control slipping, like sand through your fingers. He was right. You were here. You were stuck on this flight, trapped beside him for the last stretch of the journey. You were stuck in this hell of your own making.

But then, something in you snapped. You couldn’t just let him keep twisting the knife, making you feel like you were the one at fault. You had fought so hard to get away from him, and now he was just waltzing back in, expecting you to fall back in line.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, suddenly turning toward him, voice sharp and low. “Don’t ever think you have the right to get close to me again.”

His smirk widened, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. “I don’t need your permission to be close to you, sweetheart,” he said, voice dripping with venomous sweetness. “I’ve always been close to you. And I always will be.”

Your heart slammed in your chest, the fight-or-flight instinct kicking in. He was pushing, testing you, seeing how far he could take this before you caved. 

The plane began to shake slightly as it descended further, but Kaiser didn’t budge. He stayed right beside you, close enough for you to feel his body heat, hear his breath. His presence was suffocating, invasive, but you forced yourself to stay calm, even if your heart was pounding in your throat.

You focused on your breath, your pulse, the sound of the plane’s descent, anything but him. You weren’t going to let him control this moment. Not now, not ever again.

[cmdrfupa]

Nanami x Reader

cw: sick terminology (our pookie is having tummy troubles), suggestive if you use a magnifying glass, overall fluff

thank you to @/saradika-graphics for the dividers! 💕

Art in header by the talented @nikawa_2ji! 💕

Being sick isn't exactly something that occurs for Kento. Together for seven years, you could attest to him being ill once. A 24-hour fever he overcame in 10. This bout certainly wasn't the case.

  Kento went to the bathroom attached to his home office, clinging to what he felt were the last remaining pieces of his spirit while hurling for the third time since 4 am. Throwing his eye patch to hell for all he cared, he took his white t-shirt off, placing it under the running water before wrapping it around his neck. The cool sensation gave temporary relief from the wretched sensation of nausea.

Kento entered the hallway, thinking he was fine, only to begin dry heaving again.

"Ken?" You sat the container of flour down, turning your head to listen. He'd been up for a while, and you assumed he was out for his morning jog and maybe stopping at the market. "Kento? You okay?" Nothing.

  "Ugh, fucks sake." he groaned as you heard a thump.

Taking your apron off, you hastily move toward the living room—another spell of retching leads to the hallway instead. The dimly lit hall brought you to your poor husband.

  A shirtless, clammy, and disoriented Kento sat against the wall in the darkened hallway. "Hi, dear."

  You crouched before him, touching his forehead to check his feverish skin, which immediately alarmed you. You pursed your lips before speaking up, "You're burning up, baby.."

  "I don't know what's wrong. My stomach feels like it's being tossed around in a dryer," Kento spoke, taking short breaths between words, his light hair sticking to his forehead.

  "We'll figure that out. But let's get you back to bed. Can you get up?" You placed your shoulder under him, and he slowly wrapped his arm around you, boosting himself up. "What have you eaten in the last 24 hours?" As you strolled, he shuffled beside you, his arm slung over your shoulder.

  "Well, we had lunch here at the house, and then Itadori-kun and I went for a seafood dinner at a restaurant Kugisaki saw on social media."

Sitting him on the side of the bed so he could lie down, he propped himself against the pillows. "We had some sort of paella and maybe a few too many crab legs."

  "Shellfish."

  "How do you know?" Bringing his legs up on the bed, you fluffed the pillows behind him and brought the sheets out in case he needed to cover up.

"It seems to be the possible culprit from what you've told me. Or maybe someone handling your food was a bit unhygienic?" You walked to the bathroom, looking for the first aid kit under the sink to fish out a thermometer and anti-nausea medication. Finding it, you made your way back to Kento's side. "Open."

Eyes closed, he followed orders, the twisting pain in his stomach sending a shiver through his body. The beeping of the thermometer made him focus. "What's the verdict?"

"101.1, which means you're in bed until this passes."

A groan left the sickly man's throat. "It'll pass in a few hours, I'm sure.."

"Your optimism is cute," you kissed his head. Just focus on resting. I'll get you some water to start rehydrating, then get things cleaned up." You placed the nausea medication on his bedside. "And if the room starts feeling like a tilt-a-whirl, let one of these melt on your tongue."

The trip to the kitchen was quick, and upon returning with a glass of water, you watched Kento struggle to open the foiled Dramamine package.

You slide the package from between his nimble fingers. "I've got it, honey."

"What about the plans for my birthday? Gojo will be a nuisance if he thinks I'm faking to avoid his party."

"I know you weren't super excited about the party Gojo was planning, but I'll threaten him if he tries to get fly with me."

"My darling angel of a wife, thank you." He opens his mouth, and you place the tablet on his tongue.

"You owe me, Mr. Nanami." With a wink, you get him comfortable in bed, placing another pillow behind him as he begins to doze off. "I'll come check on you in a bit."

  Kento wasn't sure when you got your wings, but he appreciated having an angel to tend to him. So patient and willing to be by him. Honestly, he didn't know when you got the halo, either. He didn't think you were a full-blown angel until this moment. "A literal angel, wow-" words slurred, and your wings seemingly much more vibrant to him as he passed out into a deep sleep. Ken promised himself he'd verify the angel allegations when he was more fit for thinking.

Day 3 of the stomach virus showed progress despite a rough start. Kento kept trying to force himself to feel better, thinking cat naps would suffice over a good night's rest. But his nausea was a reminder to take it much slower. He watched you prepare for work: a simple black knee-length dress, nude-colored stockings, and his favorite shoes. "The Manolo slingbacks?" Kento perked up in bed. "You know, I'm feeling much, much better today."

You peeked from out of the bathroom. 'You're supposed to be sleeping, not checking me out."

"My love, I'm feeling better than before."

"That's not how this works. You still have a fever, and rest will help get rid of it."

"I am resting; I'm in bed, having bone broth, and not working."

"If you don't want me to go to work, all you have to do is ask."

He'd be lying if he said he didn't want you to stay. He had not tried his luck the past two days, but today was different. Kento was needy and required more comfort to sleep. Was this the man cold? He thought he was above that.

"Please. I promise I will sleep if you stay home with me today."

Your heels clack against the wooden floor as you go to his side of the bed. "Take your aspirin, eat a few more spoons of porridge, and I'll hold you while you sleep." a gentle smooch on his cheek earns a soft smile from him. "Let me call Gojo and tell him he'll be handling training today."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Nanamin. I didn't know he'd get sick! I ate way more than he did and felt perfectly okay this week." you called Itadori a few days ago to see how he was feeling. He was more than okay, finding him out with his peers shopping when you called.

Now, he sat across from you in the dining room, a gift bag decorated with 'get well soon' craftily written across it sat next to him as he ate another croissant. The teen was worried he'd killed the man just from the restaurant recommendation alone. "Is he going to be okay?"

  "Yuuji, nothing you've done is the result of this. The food didn't sit well with him." You take another sip of coffee before reassuring the stressed teen. "He's been resting and getting better the past four days. He'll be better and back on campus by the end of the week."

  "Well, can you let him know I dropped by?" Yuuji stuffed the last of his croissant in his mouth before sipping the hot cocoa and dusting his hands on the napkin. "Some of us got together and made a care package. Gojo made him some ladyfingers, Takuma got him some cool handkerchiefs, Nobara bought him one of those spa gel masks for his frown lines, and Fushiguro found an apron that says 'kitchen boss' he thought he'd appreciate… we want to keep his spirits up while he gets better."

  "He'll appreciate knowing you stopped by. And the thoughtful gifts." Grabbing a small container, you went to the kitchen in a few paces. "The rest of these are yours. I'll be closely monitoring Nanamin's food intake for a while, and pain au Chocolat won't be helpful." You strategically place the croissants in the container, handing them to Yuuji. "Be safe getting back to campus."

  "Will do, Mrs. Nanamin! You're amazing. I'll call to check on him tonight!" The teen hugged you quickly before making his way out of the door.

    "Are there any objections?"Nanami looked around, confident there was nobody idiotic enough to-"Wait! Please!" A pale blue-haired worm slithered down the aisle. The guest gasped in shock as the tubular creature began to morph into a human. "Don't go through with this. I love you more than life itself." Mahito stood in front of you, naked with a ring box in hand.Nanami looked at you, eyes wide. "My beautiful bride, please. Please think of the life we're building. I love you so much."" I'm sorry, Ken. I tried hiding my feelings, but my heart is with Mahito." You let go of Nanami's hands, rushing into Mahito's embrace. "Happy Birthday… Nanamin." The wickedness of Mahito's tone brought Kento to his knees.The guests all stood and began to chant, "Over time for eternity," as the church hall slowly faded into a pool of purple liquid.Gojo kneeled next to Nanami. "Kento, it's not the end. You still have me, yeah?.. honey… Ken?" Your sing-song voice was filling his head."Gojo? You sound like my wife."

"Gojo?" confused, you shook his shoulder to wake him. "Kento, wake up."

He sprung up, lungs empty and gasping for air as he looked around.

"You aren't Gojo!"

"Do you want Gojo?"

Profusely shaking his head, "I'd rather not."

"You were having quite the fever dream, it seems."

"It was an absolute hellish nightmare." He grabbed the water from the bedside, glugging it before you took the glass from him, sitting it down. "How long have I been asleep?"

You smoothed his bedhead hair, kissing Kento's temple before lying back with him. "Well, after lunch yesterday, I couldn't wake you up to save my life, but that seems to have been a good thing. Your fever broke. How are you feeling?"

Kento wrapped his arm around you, pushing the covers off with his free hand. A soft huff of comfort released as he felt the midday breeze flow through the room. "Makes sense; I feel so well rested. My stomach feels so much better. But Itadori-kun and I will have our weekly dinners here at home for a while."

"That's more than okay with me. I like it when he visits. I'm always glad to see him, and he also seems happy to come over."

"He'll be happy to know this. Our next dinner is for my birthday; he's been trying his best not to spoil my gift."

  "We have plenty of easy-to-digest meals for the next few days while your stomach settles."

"Yes, dear," he playfully retorted. Nothing sounds better than an easy-to-digest birthday dinner," he jested, pulling you into his bare chest.

  "Oh yeah. Yuuji brought you a care package. He and a few others put some rather lovely items in."

Eyebrows raised, Kento seemed surprised. "Itadori was here? Not sick?"

You nodded. "Left about an hour ago."

"How am I the only one who got sick?"

"To be fair, the boy likes to eat. And he did eat an ancient finger once, so.." shrugging your shoulders as Kento attempted to stifle a laugh unsuccessfully.

"You bring up a fair point. He can put it away."

  Rubbing his belly elicits a quiet hum of a familiar tune. He stops and peers over to you. The rays of the midday sun cast a beautiful golden hue across the bed and onto your shoulders. Kento studied the soft features that structured your face, the feel of your plush leg thrown over his as you hummed the Jimmy Eat World melody. The lack of almost claustrophobic closeness over the last few days has done a number on him.

His rich brown eyes found yours, and warmth crept up the nape of your neck as his lids lowered. "I have something planned for us."

"Something planned?'

"I didn't want you to plan anything for my birthday because I did. It's a birthday and pre-anniversary getaway of sorts. We're going to the hot springs."

Your lips puckered, landing pecks across his chin and neck. "Hot springs? Kenny baby. Do you know how perfect that sounds?"

"Indeed I do. Two weeks of solitude with my angel baby."

"Two weeks?"

"Two. Weeks."

"2 whole weeks?"

"Darling, if you repeat after me again, I'm going to assume you can't hear me."

Getting three consecutive days was pulling teeth. "What did you do to make Yaga go along with two fucking weeks?"

Kissing your shoulder, he brought your hand to his mouth. "Not much." lightly began to kiss each of your fingertips. "We just have to visit the Kyoto campus," He pressed his lips to your wrist to feel your pulse. "For a few days."

"Hm." you squinted as you read between the lines. The exchange event wasn't quite yet, but there were talks of development training that needed a few more grade 1 sorcerers for demonstrations— "You volunteered us for that combat training."

Kissing your palm and making his way up to the crease of your elbow, he wriggles between your legs until hovering over you.

"Nanami Kento."

"Are you going to be upset with your stomach pain-riddled husband? On his birthday, no less. Who loves you more than life itself? Who worships every cell in-"

"I'm getting a new swimsuit," you said, stopping his sweeter-than-honey ramble and kissing his chest. And I'll make sure Gojo reschedules the party, birthday boy."

  "And I'll be there with a shit-eating grin the whole night. My wife is getting a new swimsuit for my eyes only. I can sit through 2 hours of Gojo and everyone else. Best birthday ever."

[fullsandwichmiracle]

friends with benefits but joost is a bit toxic 🙏🙏🙏

You only call me when it's half past five

Paring: Joost Klein x female!reader 

Description:Y/N and Joost had been in a friends-with-benefits relationship for a while, but when Y/N saw him kiss someone else right in front of her, a wave of jealousy hit her hard. Feeling hurt and frustrated, she stormed out, seeking solace in the arms of another. Though the stranger’s affection offered temporary relief, it couldn’t compare to the magnetic pull Joost had on her.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cigarettes, angst, rpf

Word count: 3 k +

You were nestled in bed, engrossed in your favorite show, when your phone suddenly lit up. It was Joost. With a sigh, you paused the show and grabbed the phone.

"Hey, Joost. What's up?" you answered, curious about the late-night call.

"Hi Y/N, what are you up to?" Joost's voice came through, noticeably slurred and tipsy.

"I'm just relaxing in bed, watching some TV. What's going on with you?" you replied.

"I'm at this wild party at a friend's place," Joost said, his excitement palpable even through the phone. "You should totally come."

A grin spread across your face. "You know I can't resist a good party. And my FOMO is off the charts. Send me the address, and I'm there."

Joost chuckled, knowing he had you hooked. "I knew you'd say that. I'll text you the details right now." 

He hung up before you could say anything more. With a sigh, you pressed play on your show again before you swung your legs out of bed to get ready for the party.

Opting for a casual look, you chose a black tube top and a flowy long white skirt that was slightly see-through in certain lighting. It was just a random house party, after all, but you still wanted to look effortlessly stylish. Your phone lit up again, this time with a text from Joost containing the address of the party.

Turning off the TV, you rummaged for drinks to bring along. You found a shot and downed it immediately, not wanting to show up completely sober. You grabbed a few more shots and a variety of canned drinks and put them in a bag, ready for the party. 

You picked up your phone, took a selfie as you downed another shot, and sent it to Joost with the text, “Ready!”

With a buzz of excitement, you gathered your drinks and slipped on a pair of comfortable shoes. After a final glance in the mirror, you grabbed your keys and headed out the door.

The party wasn't far away, so you decided to walk to the nearest electric scooter. The cool night air felt refreshing as you approached the row of scooters, selecting one and scanning the QR code to unlock it. 

With a slight thrill, you hopped on and zipped through the streets, the city lights blurring around you. The anticipation of the party mixed with the freedom of the ride made you feel alive. 

As you approached the house, the sounds of laughter and music grew louder, guiding you to your destination. You parked the scooter nearby and walked up to the front door. Out of courtesy, you knocked before stepping inside. The house was crowded, but every face was familiar. 

You searched the kitchen for a spot to set down your drinks, and as you closed the fridge and popped open a can, you caught sight of Joost guiding a girl toward another room. Although you and Joost had a casual friends-with-benefits arrangement and nothing exclusive, it still stung to see him with someone else, especially tonight. You couldn’t help but wonder why he’d invite you to the party only to focus his attention elsewhere. 

You trailed behind, observing Joost lead her into the heart of a lively dancing crowd. Instead of joining them, you headed toward a nearby couch where a group was engaged in a drinking game. You plopped down and asked, “Mind if I join in?”

As you joined the drinking game, the laughter and lightheartedness of the group momentarily distracted you from Joost and the mystery girl. But your eyes kept drifting back to them, watching as they swayed together in the dimly lit living room. You tried to shake off the uneasy feeling, reminding yourself that you and Joost weren’t exclusive. Still, something about the situation didn't sit right with you.

A few rounds later, after downing more than a couple of shots, you decided you’d had enough of the silent torture. You weren't the type to just sit back and let things fester. Gathering your courage, you stood up, excused yourself from the group, and made your way through the crowd toward Joost.

You found him leaning against the wall, his arm draped lazily over the girl’s shoulders as they talked in hushed tones, their faces close. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached, but you steadied yourself, determined to confront him.

“Joost,” you called out, loud enough to be heard over the music. His head turned slightly in your direction, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. 

He smirked, but instead of acknowledging you, he turned back to the girl and said something that made her giggle. Irritation flared inside you. You stepped closer, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Joost,” you repeated, your tone firmer this time.

Finally, he glanced at you, his smirk still plastered on his face. “Hey, Y/N. Having fun?”

You crossed your arms, trying to keep your composure. “What’s going on? You invited me here, but it seems like you’re more interested in... other things.”

Joost raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your frustration. He glanced at the girl beside him, then back at you. “Oh, come on, Y/N. We’re just having a little fun. No need to get all serious.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could get a word out, Joost leaned in and kissed the girl right in front of you. It wasn’t just a peck either—it was a deliberate, slow kiss, meant to provoke.

Your heart sank as you watched them, feeling a mix of anger and hurt. Joost had always been playful, but this was different. He was doing it on purpose, knowing it would get under your skin. And it worked.

As they pulled apart, Joost looked at you again, his eyes gleaming with a teasing challenge. “Don’t be mad, Y/N. You know we aren't exclusive”

The girl glanced at you, her expression unreadable, but she didn’t move away from Joost. Instead, she stood there, almost as if she were waiting to see how you’d react.

You felt a burning need to say something, to do something, but a part of you hesitated. This wasn’t what you’d signed up for. The casual nature of your relationship with Joost had always been comfortable, but now it felt like he was pushing boundaries just to see how far he could go.

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “You know, Joost, this is just cruel.”

Joost’s smirk faded slightly, as if your words had hit a nerve. But before he could respond, you turned on your heel and walked away, pushing through the crowd. You didn’t know where you were going, but anywhere was better than standing there, feeling humiliated.

You found yourself outside on the porch, the cool night air hitting your flushed cheeks. You leaned against the railing, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. 

As you stood there, lost in thought, you felt a presence beside you. You looked up to see one of the guys from the drinking game, his expression concerned.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You okay?”

You forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just needed some fresh air.”

He nodded, leaning on the railing beside you. “Joost can be a real jerk sometimes. Don’t let him get to you.”

His words brought a surprising sense of comfort, easing the tension that had been building all night.

"Want a cigarette?" he asked, pulling out a pack and offering it to you as he took one for himself.

You nodded, taking one from the box and placing it between your lips.

He lit his cigarette first, the flame briefly illuminating his face, then leaned in to light yours. The warmth of the lighter’s flame brushed against your skin, and your eyes met his for a moment longer than you expected. There was something in his gaze, something playful and inviting, that made the tension in your chest ease just a bit more.

As you both exhaled that first drag, the smoke curled up into the night air, mixing with the muted sounds of the party behind you. You took another drag, feeling the calm slowly settle in.

“So,” he began with a teasing grin, “do you always make such dramatic exits at parties, or is tonight a special occasion?”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as you leaned back against the porch railing. “Only when the party’s worth it,” you replied, smirking. “Though I needed a good reason to escape that mess inside.”

He laughed, a warm sound that seemed to wrap around you. “Well, if you’re looking for an escape, I’m pretty good at keeping people distracted.” He leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh yeah? And what kind of tricks are we talking about?”

He took a slow drag, his eyes never leaving yours. “I could start with some bad jokes, move on to charming conversation, and maybe—just maybe—end with something more interesting.” His gaze dipped briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes, the suggestion clear.

You felt your pulse quicken, the playful tension between you growing. “Bad jokes, huh?” you teased, trying to ignore the way his attention was making your heart race. “You must be a real pro.”

“Only when I’m inspired,” he shot back, his grin widening.

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the crackling of your cigarettes. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, something that made it easy to forget the mess with Joost inside.

Before you could think too much about it, you took a step closer, closing the small gap between you. “Well,” you said, your voice a little softer, “maybe you can show me one of those tricks right now.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His eyes flickered with interest as he leaned in, the world around you fading until it was just the two of you on that porch. You could feel his breath against your lips, the anticipation crackling in the air. And then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he closed the distance and kissed you.

The kiss was warm and gentle at first, testing the waters, but it quickly deepened as you responded, your hand moving to the back of his neck. His free hand found your waist, pulling you closer, and for a moment, everything else vanished—the noise from the party, the tension from earlier, even the lingering thoughts of Joost. All that mattered was the feel of his lips on yours and the way he was holding you as if he didn’t want to let go.

But the moment was shattered when the door to the house swung open. You broke the kiss and pulled away, feeling the heat of the moment, but as soon as Joost’s voice cut through the air, your heart sank. You looked over the guy’s shoulder to see Joost standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of surprise and something else—something that made your stomach twist with uncertainty.

“Y/N,” Joost said, his voice cool and controlled, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He stepped onto the porch, his eyes drifting lazily between you and the guy beside you, who still had his hand on your waist. “Didn’t think you’d move on so quickly. Guess I underestimated you.”

The comment was sharp, laced with a mocking edge that sent a wave of irritation through you. You stepped back, putting some distance between yourself and the guy, who was now looking at Joost with a raised eyebrow, clearly sizing him up. But it wasn’t the guy beside you that had your attention—it was Joost and the way he was looking at you, like he was toying with you.

“Joost,” you started, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. “What do you want?”

He chuckled, a low, almost condescending sound, as he took a step closer, completely ignoring the other guy. “I just came out to get some air, but it looks like I walked in on something... interesting.” His eyes flicked to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “So, is this what you do now? Kiss random guys at parties?”

You felt your cheeks flush with a mix of anger and embarrassment. “And what about you?” you shot back. “You were the one all over that girl inside, or did you forget?”

Joost’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Oh, I didn’t forget. But I wasn’t expecting you to get so jealous. I mean, it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything, right?”

The words stung, and Joost knew it. He was pushing your buttons, testing how far he could go. The guy beside you, sensing the tension, took a step back, clearly realizing this was between you and Joost.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. “Why did you even invite me here, Joost? To play games? To mess with my head?”

He shrugged, his gaze never leaving yours. “Maybe I just wanted to see what you’d do. I like keeping things interesting.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, refusing to back down. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his smirk softening into something more genuine as he closed the distance between you. “But you like it, don’t you? You like that I keep you guessing.”

He was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off him, his presence overwhelming. Part of you wanted to push him away, to walk back into the house and leave him standing there. But another part of you—the part that had always been drawn to his teasing, his unpredictability—couldn’t bring yourself to move.

“You know,” Joost continued, his voice low as he reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “you’re not the only one who gets jealous. Seeing you with him...” He nodded slightly toward the guy who was now leaning against the porch railing, watching the interaction unfold. “It made me realize something.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “And what’s that?”

“That I don’t like sharing,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as his fingers trailed down your cheek. “Especially not when it comes to you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the intensity in his eyes making your breath hitch. He leaned in closer, his lips just a hair’s breadth from yours, his teasing smirk still in place.

“You like being teased, don’t you?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “Admit it, Y/N. You love it when I push your buttons.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, Joost closed the gap, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both demanding and intoxicating. This kiss was different from the one you’d shared with the other guy—it was filled with a fiery possessiveness, as if Joost was staking his claim.

Despite yourself, you found yourself kissing him back, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you pulled him closer. It was infuriating how easily he could get under your skin, how much you craved this dangerous dance between you two.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you were both breathing heavily. “See?” he whispered, his voice a mix of arrogance and affection. “You can’t resist me.”

You bit your lip, trying to regain some control. “You’re such a jerk,” you muttered, but your words lacked conviction.

Joost chuckled softly, pressing a quick, teasing kiss to your lips before pulling away slightly, his eyes still locked on yours. “Maybe, I am” he agreed, ���but you like it”

Just as you were about to respond, the other guy cleared his throat, reminding you both that he was still there. Joost glanced over, his smirk returning as he gave the guy a mocking nod. “Thanks for keeping her company. I’ll take it from here.”

The guy rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, instead giving you a small, understanding smile before turning to head back inside, leaving you and Joost alone on the porch.

As the door closed behind the other guy, the night air seemed to grow still around you and Joost. The intensity of the moment hung heavy between you, and you could feel Joost’s gaze on you, sharp and possessive. He didn’t let go of your hand, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin.

He leaned down, his lips trailing along your neck, sending a shiver through your body. A soft whimper escaped your lips; you were powerless against him, and he knew it. He had you wrapped around his finger, completely at his mercy. You wanted something real, a relationship that meant more, but deep down, you knew he saw you as nothing more than his toy, something he could enjoy on his terms, whenever he pleased.

As his lips continued to explore your neck, each kiss igniting sparks under your skin, you felt the bittersweet ache in your chest intensify. You were caught between the intoxicating pull of his touch and the painful truth that settled in your mind: you were just a fleeting pleasure for him, a secret indulgence.

Joost’s hands roamed over your body with a practiced ease, every movement claiming more of you, making it harder to remember why you wanted something more. His teeth grazed your skin, drawing another helpless whimper from you, and a low, satisfied growl rumbled in his chest.

“You like this, don’t you?” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with arrogance. “You like being my toy”

You couldn’t deny it. The way he made you feel, the way he dominated every part of you, was intoxicating. But it wasn’t enough. You wanted more—more than just stolen moments and empty promises. You wanted to be more than just his plaything.

But as his hands gripped your hips, pulling you even closer, you felt your resolve waver. It was so easy to give in, to let yourself be swept away by the heat of the moment, to forget everything else.

Yet, deep down, the truth gnawed at you. This was all he was willing to offer, and as much as it hurt, you knew you were powerless to change it. The thought stung, but the way he held you, the way he touched you, made it so hard to resist. You were trapped in a dangerous game, one that left you longing for more even as you knew you’d never have it.

Joost pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re mine,” he repeated, his voice a possessive growl, as if daring you to deny it.

And despite everything, despite the yearning for something real, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. Instead, you nodded, your voice barely a whisper as you replied, “Yes, I’m yours.” 

But even as the words left your lips, you knew they carried a weight that neither of you fully acknowledged—a truth buried beneath the surface of a relationship that was anything but simple.

[ms--lobotomy]

platonic malcador x reader??? he's such a girldad and we could be some imperial agent or smthn I don't really mind as long as I get that SWEET SWEET cute grandpa moments bc I know you will always cook

Howdy! Sorry this one's so late, I was finishing my degree so requests kind of fell off the face of the earth for a bit. I'll try to get a good portion of them done, though! Enjoy!

Summary: Talking shit with your honorary girldad Malcador

Word Count: 744

Content Warnings: No clear base coat for doing nails, sue me. Implied malcemps, if you squint, and also the implication that reader has sister(s).

Image Credit: @squishyowl

It wasn't often that you got to take some time for yourselves. But your particular order of inquisitors had a meeting today, and you were going to look good for it. So you'd excused yourself to your temporary quarters, sent a quick vox message to your friend, and waited on a response as you threw on whatever caught your eye and arranged a few colors of nail polish for the two of you to choose from.

Hey Malc, I have a bit of time before the meeting today. Wanna do our nails? Cool. Thanks. You signed off with your name, sinking back into your chair and sitting there for a second.

The walls felt like they were closing in on you. Sure, these were temporary quarters, but this room felt more like a closet than a temporary accommodation. You were hunched over the dresser, fixing your hair when you heard a knock at the door. Your head snapped around. A yawn was audible through the door, and you grinned.

"I haven't got all day," he said. You could hear the smile in his voice as you headed over to the door, opening it with a slight creak. His breathing was loud, but nothing out of the ordinary for him, and he carried a stunningly large staff. It almost didn't fit through the door, but as he made his way in, he made it work.

"Malc!" you exclaimed. "Come in, if you can fit-"

"This used to be a closet," he mumbled. He made his way to the chair that you'd set out for him, something that much mismatched the one you had taken for yourself. "Looks like they're putting people just anywhere these days."

"Oh," you said. If you were friends with the Sigilite, you didn't want to know how the others of your order were rooming. You blotted the thought out of your head, and turned to the set of nail polish you'd set out.

"So we have green, and teal, and..."

"Green."

You blinked. You ran a finger over the crimson red nail polish, but his eyes were set on the cool green polish at the very front of the row.

"Green it is," you said, as you slid the green over to him and took the red for yourself.

"No, no, I want to do each other's," he said. There was a softness to his voice, one that was always reserved for private interactions between the two of you.

"Sure!" you exclaimed, switching the red and the green before laying down some paper towels to catch any overflow. He watched with bemusement as you hurriedly took out the green polish and rolled up his sleeves, placing his bony hands against the paper towels.

"What's the rush?" he asked as you started to paint the first stripe onto them.

"Rush?" you asked. "Weren't you the one who said you didn't have all day or something?"

Malcador sat back in his chair. Despite it being the sturdier option, it made a slight creaking noise. "I did," he said, his eyes closing as you worked with the first layer. "I've just never had any daughters, is all."

You paused for a second before continuing to swipe color across his fingernails. "No daughters?" you asked, looking up at him incredulously. "You're Perpetual, right? You've had all the time in the world to... uh..." you trailed off before clearing your throat. "My bad."

He smiled a wry smile. "You could say the Primarchs were partially my doing, yes," he said. "I wanted girls, you see. Much less arguing, and activities like this are more likely to be in the picture."

"Less arguing?" you smirked before bursting into full on laughter. "Clearly you never grew up with any sisters." You tilted the paper towel a little bit as you moved onto his right hand, painting it just as carefully as you'd painted his left. Silence filled the room for a moment before he spoke again.

"None of the Primarchs ever did my nails," he said with a hint of playful spite to his voice. "Even the ones we found early. Horus was always too important for things like this."

"Horus, huh?" you asked before the next words flew out of your mouth without much thought. "Guess I'm just better than him."

"Be careful saying that," he replied as you finished his pinky. "But do say that in front of him. I want to know how it goes."

Taglist: @bispecsual @justeverythingnothingelse @bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae @historitor-bookshelf

[system-of-a-feather]

Full Integration, Final Fusion, Functional Multiplicitly, and General "Spirituality"

(Disclaimer: this is a very long post)

Heyyo, this is a bit of a hodgepodge of connected topics that I was thinking on this morning. For those that don't know, after like three months of being a really solid fused whole, we really decided that we needed to redivide back into our core parts to recenter, rebalance, and reorganize ourselves since our fused whole was loosing sight / vision of the "plot". We don't consider this "splitting" because we are still in - what we like to call "full integration" - and we don't really engage in much dissociation when we do this as the means of how we do this largely stems from the way we perceive, engage with, and view the concept of "self" and "identity." Our system highly values the mastery and art of a very fluid and ever changing sense of identity and self. This morning - thank you Chunn brain for batting our collective brain from the usual urge to get out of bed and get started with our day to give us time to really sit with our inner selves - we spent about an hour and a half and a small half hour nap just laying there thinking among ourselves and I wanted to share a few.

I think at the moment I am still mostly a fused whole and I had considered trying to go to Ray or Lin for them to write this, but it didn't feel right to go to Ray brain and Lin brain directly told me "Dude, this thought line started with Riku-dominant fused brain, trying to have someone else write it would be a disservice to the reflection. Let Riku or Riku-dominant fused brain do it, it's their thought." and you know, fair point. I think I'll use this post as a temporary "bye few thoughts" and love letter to our parts as a fused whole before leaving it to the individual specialists to do their things.

So introduction to this post aside, hello and temporary soon to be farewell before I choose to temporarily redivide into my main parts. Today is May 15, 2024 and I'm gonna document this a bit for when I come back whenever that is and kind of see if my fused-whole perspective and nature changes - mostly for myself. Online I go by Feathers, irl I just go by our chosen name.

I'm a (mostly, technically non-denominational independent, but most of my views and perspectives come from and align closely with) Zen Buddhist. I'm nonbinary vaguely transmasc (not really though?) intersex individual with the pronouns of they/them. I am extremely pro-endo and if I honestly felt like sticking around longer, I was thinking about writing a much more nuanced essay on tulpa-terminology discourse with my current reflections as a fused whole and as a pretty avid Buddhist but, unforunately, unless one of my parts still shares the same insight AND interest, that essay will have to wait for me to potentially be back (hey, Riku or Chunn might still want to who knows). I dunno what else to say, I love bird, Bleach, walking, driving, listening to music, video games, writing, art? I dunno man, I'm just me.

Documentation aside anyways, I gotta figure out where I want to start. I think I will actually piss my high-school English teachers off and start with the LAST thing in the title card. I might loose a lot of close minded white anti-endos here, but hey, if you are that close minded, then its your loss cause I'm just talking about late-stage recovery as a person with diagnosed DID that is considered polyfragmented. It's a fun conversation to have with other people with DID aiming for recovery so, if you're hell bent on hating people talking about plurality form a non-DID lens enough to disregard cool information, that's your loss. (Thank you XIV brain, crediting that to you for part of our goal today)

Buddhism, Spirituality, Plurality and Our Perspective of Full Integration

According to Buddhism, and one of the largest concepts and principles of Buddhism that we believe the most in and actively work to practice and cultivate the mindset of - is that the concept of "I" and the concept of a singular, distinct, and separate self from the world and others simply does not exist - only the experience and illusion of experience exists. I was talking about it with @quoigenicfromhell in DMs since they were interested in talking shop about Buddhism.

To save myself a whole effort of rewriting a discussion on how one can hold together the clear sensation of existing and being an individual with the idea and Buddhist understanding that the "self" does not exist, I'm going to copy a little bit of what I wrote in response to them. If it doesn't make sense cause its in a bit of Buddhist jargon, then oh well, I'm lazy, it's written for an audience that has done some reading and looking into Buddhist thought so RIP yall srry not srry (Thank you Chunn brain lol)

Honestly the development and understanding of holding those two things together (the non-self and non-existence with the clear experience of self and existence) is largely a lot of exploration on the understanding and respect for the experience without applying too much value or regard to said experience. Its kind of a hard thing to understand just based off of words alone and like all things Buddhism, its one of those sorts of things you really gotta sit on and explore in your own mental space, but like

The experience of self and personhood and existence is a denied concept in Buddhist thought, but its not a bad or incorrect thing, the experience of self and existence is kind of considered an inherent expression of life and the world and while its important to be cognicent that it is an illusion that can cause suffering and muddy an individuals ability to see Things As They Are, the experience and illusion of self is additionally an entirely natural thing to experience and is an important part of being able to, well, be

I kinda of personally perceive it kind of similarly to say a part in a system. Innately the part is not (at least in my experiences of systemhood) a literal entire separate being and thats an important thing to acknowledge for a number of reasons (life organization and direction, system accountability, etc) but its would also be incredibly foolish to completely ignore that the part operates, experiences themselves, and lives in the world (both inner and outer) as if they were an individual of their own

In the same sense that a part in a system can be seen both as an individual and a part of a whole / collective depending on what perspective and demands the moment needs. An individual can be seen both as the individual expression of a self informed by the arguably incorrect illusion of isolation OR as a part of the whole worlds expression depending on what serves the moment the best. I largely kind of see myself as part of a system that is the world much like I see my parts as part of a system that is "me". While the self may be an illusion, its not an experience that can be denied and it is an innate expression that in its own right can prove to be a great teacher So you deny the concept of a self but respect and revere the experience and innate natural expression of self

With that context in mind, while we do not believe in the concept of self and find that trying to seek out a concrete idea of a singular person and singular self in society is a source of extreme suffering, stress, and displeasure, we DEEPLY revere and honor the expression of self. As we see it, in a complete ideal and impossible the world would be in perfect harmony if we let the world express itself as it naturally does. We find that the experiences of self - in whatever form they take - are inherent and natural expressions of the world as a whole and to try to shape oneself to fit a specific image - may that be societally imposed or internally / personally imposed or a sense of envy or any sort of clinging or desire to a specific version / image of self - is a disrespect to the innate beauty found in the natural expression and a means of adding disharmony into the world.

As a result, our system and whole aims deeply, above almost all else to exist simply as we naturally would in any moment time to time. If we find that something we are doing with our sense of self is drawn and influenced too much on a "I should" or "I want" or "I wish" or "I hope" then we tend to pause, self reflect, and ask if we are actually existing in our natural state, or are we trying to fight against our natural state of self to fit into a self-imposed idea of what we "should be".

As a result of that, our system deeply values our flexibility, fluidity, and ability to change any aspect of ourselves, any opinion we hold, any identity label we consider, and our overall presentation in all ways and forms to a very high level. The desire to be consistent and predictable serves us little in simply practicing on "being" and finding the true and simply-run life that we want. That then results in why our system so casually flips around in system size, fusions, redivisions, how we refer to ourselves, etc. We find very little value in committing to labels and concepts and do whatever is natural for us.

Additionally, another large aspect of Buddhism our system deeply reveres and appreciates is the acknowledgement that there are "Buddhas" - or in less Jargon terms, potential for everything both internal and external to be teachers and guides into finding a sense of peace and simplicity in the world - and that it is deeply important to cultivating peace, happiness, and insight to actively always be seeking out the "Buddha" in everything and everyone. It's important to reflect, engage with, and talk with those "Buddhas" as they are the best and number one way to gain the insight that brings happiness and peace into life and removes excessive suffering and stress.

As many Buddhists agree (at least of the Mahayanan branches), everyone is inherently a Buddha because the world and everything is a Buddha. The only issue people have is that they can not connect, hear, and see clearly enough to be in that state due to a large number of human conditions - one large one being the aforementioned illusion of self.

Having lived my life as someone with DID and having gone through a lot of trauma therapy, self reflection, communication and coordination with my parts, and all that to the point we have reached functional multiplicity over a year plus ago and been able to hold a fully fused state for over three months, I feel like its a given to say that of ALL things in the world, the "Buddha nature" of my parts have been the best and most insightful teachers I've ever had. We revere each other's strengths and specialties greatly as each of us have taught the other great strengths, great understandings, great insights, and great appreciations that have collectively brought us so much peace and happiness. It's not to say any part is "enlightened" because each part is also deeply flawed and struggling in their own realms, but it is largely by working and talking and supporting one another and ACTIVELY looking to one another for insight and lessons about the world and our existence that we are able to reach a uniquely peaceful space.

For us, its an incredibly important practice - both for self care and in the art / spirituality of Buddhism - to regularly talk and engage with these specialized and uniquely-wise (and uniquely stupid - thank you XIV) parts of ourselves to gain deeper insight and overall understanding of ourselves and our place in the world.

In the same sense, it is why - despite being completely capable of operating as a fully fused whole - we regularly choose to INTENTIONALLY redivide into our parts. And no, its not us "splitting again" or even really throwing up any real level of dissociation / dissociative barriers. If anything, we usually do this through meditation and mindfulness.

It's a Buddhist practice, its not a mental disorder and its not stemming from the same mechanism's DID stems from. It might operate *based* on the foundation our history with DID stems from, but at this point in our healing, the way our system operates at functional multiplicity that is intentionally chosen to be that way AFTER reaching "final fusion" has a number of differences from how it operated before we reached general full integration.

Again, for those more familiar with the tulpa-terminology discussion, you might be able to see where I would have a long post delving into a highly nuanced and more middle-ground perspective of that syscourse from the paragraph above this one, but I'm gonna leave that cause I already know this post is long and it would detract from the purpose.

At this point, my system is mostly an "intentionally created one" to Western label standards. We personally do not see any significance or binary in plural VS singular people beyond it being a label some people identify with and not. Plural VS Singular is a false binary perpetuated in white, western, and european society and while I respect that perspective and view in a space that is primarily filled with white, western, and/or european individuals, I am going to firmly state that and expect you to give me that same respect. (and if you refuse to give me that same respect, then you are close minded and being very white / western lmao <- thank you XIV, again)

And so the other related but slightly different topic away from the more philosophical, esoteric, mysticism sounding topic of Buddhism...

Full Integration, Final Fusion, and Functional Multiplicitly

At this point, what we used to call "Wishiwashi Recovery" we kind of have taken to just calling "full integration" generally as a means of really breaking apart the suggested categorical and boxed binary of "final fusion" and "functional multiplicity" as our own experience and discussion with other systems at and near full integration have made us realize that the difference between functional multiplicity and final fusion is FAR more a spectrum than it is two seperate categories. Some systems stick to one end, some to the others, but the largest difference is in external and internal expression of the parts and less any fundamental or biological / clinical difference; at least not in terms of integration. (Note: Integration =/= Fusion; Integration is the general connectivity and accessibility of parts with less / limited / no dissociation)

It's a false binary to say Final Fusion or Functional Multiplicity and its why a lot of the "ones bad and ones good" syscourse is dumb. They're two heads of the same Doduo and they should be kissing. (JOKING, thank you Riku-Aya brain)

With that said, our system, as we've made clear, regularly and freely practices sliding and flying all over that spectrum as just how we like to engage with ourselves. We change between the two as we see fit and having spent probably like 9~ months in functional multiplicity and 3~ months in final fusion I wanted to share some pros and cons of both sides.

I would also like to put a disclaimer that this isn't meant to be "positives and why this side sucks" as much as it is the differences in life style according to our opinion and our experience. Both final fusion and functional multiplicity are absolutely WONDERFUL things overall and we love both states. If we got "stuck" in either, we would still be immensely happy. The purpose of this part is just to share certain differences in how we experience the two different ends. The Cons in these case are only "cons" relative to the "alternative" and not "to not ever reaching either"

Functional Multiplicity Pros:

A lot more clear and direct communication between parts internally that allows for a SHIT ton of internal banter, productive conversation about complex topic and perspectives from unique and diverse perspectives; the communication is a lot more intentional and a lot more in focus so its easier to properly sit and attend to the complex differences and sometimes conflicting directions

It's honestly just a lot of fun, not gonna lie. A lot more dramatic and extravagant expression + brain friends in a more overt sense

Easier to let certain parts of the brain take "breaks" - it's not the same as it is with not-fully-integrated DID but compared to Full Fusion, certain parts of the brain can "tune out" easier than not

More palatable to DID / OSDD spaces online

Easier to focus and use a wide variety of skills, interests, hobbies, and thinking patterns by simply just having a specialist part take their look at it

Generally easier to target specific boxes to look into as you process all the newly accessible memories and information from being highly / fully integrated

Final Fusion Pros:

Quick and a lot more inherent understanding of all parts on a general gut level without necessarily needing to fully think about everything and listen to every opinion and perspective; there is a lot more of an inherent understanding, trust, and awareness of the collective whole which makes decision making and seeing whats good for the system as a whole a lot easier

It's honestly way more calming, relaxing, and solid feeling. There is a unique sense of confidence, understanding, and trust within yourself and you have a HUGE arsenal of skills and interests that come from the combined parts that you've lived as

You are a lot more present and aware of your life and you actually get to live YOUR life and have all parts of yourself be engaged in life; no part feels really left behind or is caught off guard from having their brain partially turned off. The awareness is really present and engagement is so much more complete.

More palatable in real life and non-DID/OSDD spaces

Easier to simultaneously use skills from multiple parts at once; very much a jack of all trades all at once situation

Generally easier to integrate multiple complex and otherwise seemingly detatched boxes of memory and the past as you process all the newly accessible memories and information from being highly / fully integrated

Functional Multiplicity Cons:

Takes more intention, focus, and often time to get the same level of full understanding of the whole system when making decisions. It can be slow and it requires a lot more internal engagement which can make it harder to be fully present in life

Sometimes you can get what I call "lite" amnesia where a part was not paying attention and doesn't fully process what was going on / what is going on and so sometimes you get poor attention-driven "amnesia". It's small and easily recovered by simply going "hold up wait" and thinking back or asking another part

Harder to use skills from different parts at the same time; albeit definitely still possible and only "harder" relative to final fusion

Generally harder / requires intentional discussion between parts to integrate multiple complex boxes as you process all the newly accessible memories and information from being highly / fully integrated

Final Fusion Cons:

Less direct and overt bantering and discussion between parts (still present by the way, just less frequent and less overt). It can be a little less fun (still is fun cause they are sill there) and it can be a bit harder to fully see the extent of a more extreme perspective

It can be tiring and overwhelming to be aware and present so much for so long if you were accustomed to the breaks DID / OSDD tends to give parts

Easier to forget to use a lot of the skills and hobbies that may have been more niche to less-dominant and less-prominent parts; you don't "loose" the skills, you just aren't accustomed to using them as much so you can just kinda forget to use them

Harder to focus on a targetted recovered memory / information that you want to process and can sometimes be a bit overwhelming trying to connect a number of things at once

And this is all just to say that both are absolutely astonishing and great places to mentally be. The main point is that - for us - sometimes one state works better for us in the moment and another state works better for us later and that's completely cool cause - as aforementioned - the difference between plural vs singular is not a binary one for us anyways.

Anyways, I don't know how to wrap this up so I'mma just post it

Ideally today we will focus on cultivating our independent parts and return to Functional Multiplicity end of the spectrum so I guess tata for now

-Feathers

EDIT and PS: Anyone is allowed to add their thoughts to this so long it is in good faith.

[ebonysplendor]

Symptoms of Deceit (Demo) Review 🐙

TL;DR: We've all encountered fake people. You know, those people who pretend to be something or someone they aren't. But what makes Thaumo's situation so different...? Why can't he just be himself? Oh, because he's psycho. Right. Okay, fair point.

Game Link: https://strawberrysquid0.itch.io/symptoms-of-deceit

Notable Features: Two Yandere LIs, Self-Insert, Custom Pronouns, (slight) UI Customization, (minor) Backstory choice, Multiple Endings Spiciness: 2.5/5 -- Gets a little suggestive at one point...but not enough, and you're damn right I'm anticipating that in the future LI Red Flags: 3/5 -- Gaslighting, murder, stalking, nonconsensual stuff (two pretty light instances), your typical yandere stuff, ya know?

Wanna know more? Well, let's get into it!

You know when you've been out of the flow of doing something for so long, and you lowkey forget how to do the thing...? Not gonna lie, kind've going through that right now lmao. Like, when I tell y'all that, when I went off of memory, I could not for the life of me figure out why that little intro before the actual intro part did not flow right, and I totally skipped over the features, spiciness, and red flags. Lmaoooo I need to get back on my shit. Not to mention, I really like doing these and want to get back in the swing of things

ANYWAYS. This isn't about that; this is about this. This game that is. That's what I meant by "this", in case that wasn't clear...my bad...okay, anyways, getting back on track lmao

I honestly don't have much for the intro because, as typical, it's more suited for the review portion, but let me just say...it's pretty damned promising, and I have a temporary spiked interest in mimic octopuses...octopi?....octopuses; it'll make sense later, I swear, but let me just say this.

MIMIC OCTOPI...octopuses?...ARE SO DAMNED COOL? Like, it's quite literally what it sounds like. It mimics the behaviors of other marine animals, and damn do they mimic a lot of those things! They can mimic jellyfish, sea snakes, crabs, flatfish, shrimp, sealions, gah damned seaweed, fucking sea sponges-- like apparently it is a lot, and they are damned cool, man. I love these things. We stan the thaumoctopus mimicus -- lmao just remember that long, scientifically correct word; that was literally intentional, not just a random name drop.

But enough of that, because you know what has my interest more? This game, and I am excited to tell you about it. So, as per the usual, I will tell you as much about the game as possible without ruining the game itself, and trust me, you're gonna wanna play...but this also may be a bit hard to make spoiler friendly. We're gonna thug it out, and make it work, though!

So, enough yappin'. Let's get into it.

So boom.

It's the end of the day, and we're trying to kill the last bit of time that we have left before we go home. If you work yourself, then you know that I'm talking about that weird ass "It's too late to start working on something (nor do I want to) but I still have like a smooth 8 minutes before I clock out". That being said, we do the only logical thing and scroll on social media for a bit. We're in the middle of reading a post/news article, when this pops up:

I'll explain the article somewhat later, but just stick with me for a second and focus on the notif. We look up and--

Well hello, handsome! Ain't no way we're just working with someone this fine. His name is Nalis, by the by, and I'm gonna get back on track now lol.

So, we exchange a little bit of small talk before one of our other co-workers come up and pretty much yanks him away for some more work. Now, the thing about this is, the co-worker was acting pretty out of character. Like, she was just in a pretty ill mood...but then her personality totally flipped when she was talking to us, and Nalis just shoots us this look like "...the hell is going on with her?". But it's like whatever, because Nalis and her are part of the epidemiology team at our work, and we just figured that the stress was just starting to get to her due to the building cases.

Anyways, with our interaction with Nalis cut short, we clock out and head on home. While walking into the building, though, we run into this adorable, blushing mess of a man

Remember that long ass scientifically correct word I gave you? Thaumoctopus mimicus? Everyone, this is Thaumo. Thaumo, this is everyone. See? Told you it'd matter later lol.

Anyways, as expected, we get locked into some small talk, and Thaumo takes the plunge and asks for our number under the guise of "neighbors looking out for each other". ...Yeah, no, naur, that's all right.

We make it quick, shut him down, text the bae friendo, and go in for the night. The next day rolls around, we mess with Nalis for a bit, and...something quite curious happens.

Remember our co-worker that was acting weird yesterday? Well, she comes in, and we check in with her about yesterday, and she just--

Wha--? The fuck you mean, you didn't see him...?

Now, this wouldn't be an issue if she was scatterbrained or something, but she isn't in the slightest. Even when she's tired, she has a damned solid memory and would've definitely remembered something like that, so her simply forgetting is not likely or even probable. Something is very clearly off, but we're not entirely sure of why yet and before we can question it more, she leaves to go to her sector of the building.

Some hours of doing work later, it's around lunch time. We didn't bring our lunch today, so we sit for a moment to figure out what we're gonna do, but Nalis comes around the corner just in time. We make eye contact, but he doesn't really say much, and he looks...different somehow. We brush it off though and ask what he's doing about lunch and if it's cool if we can join him and...

Oof...okay, maybe not.

Despite this though, he fixes his face and tells us it's cool and invites us to go to the vending machine with him. Even still though, he's acting really weird. Like, he's being kind've withdrawn, he's being lowkey insulting, he's spewing all this weird shit about ethics and death, and his whole vibe is just extremely off. It's so bad that we don't even feel comfortable let alone safe with him being around us. I think he lowkey picks up on it though because then he's all "Just pretend that this conversation didn't happen", and it's just, lol what?

But bump it, we bail. We leave him in there, and thankfully, he gave us an exit to do so.

More time goes by, and the phone starts blowing up about some new hire. Well, let me rephrase that. Not a new hire, but someone that's pretty much going to be making sure that we're using the money that their company is giving us to good use and, wouldn't you know it--

That very individual is Thaumo, and he's going to be hanging out with us throughout this whole ordeal. Granted, this isn't entirely bad because the things that Nalis and his team do are extremely confidential, and we're quite literally left out of everything, so it's lowkey nice knowing someone else isn't going to have the full picture about what's going on either. Speaking of Nalis...

The asshole popped up at our desk a few hours later. Of course, we're not as happy to be around him, and he's trying to pry about why. This lowkey pisses us off because he's taking that whole "This conversation didn't happen" shit too literal, and it's like, bro, be fucking for real right now; this shit is not cool. Like, don't gaslight me and act like you weren't acting like a complete donkey during lunch.

"Didn't see us at lunch"? "No time for a full..."? Ayo, what the fuck man? First our coworker, now Nalis? What the fuck is going on with this???

Nalis helps us come to the conclusion that we had likely fell asleep and just had a super vivid dream. We don't fully believe this, but we literally don't have any other form of proof that would suggest otherwise. Either way, we calm down, Nalis reassures us, and we part ways with us going home and him back down to the lab.

That day ends and the next one begins in which Nalis makes a new group chat with Thaumo in it and without the boss, and Nalis is like "Arcade?". We decline, though, and so does Thaumo. We spend our lunch break with Nalis more comfortably this time, and the rest of the day proceeds like normal: uneventful. Well, that is until we're about to head home and receive this text:

Now, for some context, SWSS is Sea Star Wasting Syndrome. Remember that article that I mentioned in the beginning? The one with the body? That's what we were reading about, and it's pretty deadly. As I promised, I'll explain a bit more.

The world that we live in, people (can?) have animal associations, and those associations can be either strong or weak -- most people's are weak. That being said, naturally, the people who are suffering from SWSS have associations with sea stars, which is why Nalis was like "even though you aren't susceptible" because that's not our animal association. This also explains the animal contact photos/pfps, if you were wondering about that at one point, as well.

Anyways, we just think about how much SWSS sucks, and we proceed to clock out and take an alternative route home. Well, that kind've goes left because on this route home we still run into trouble. Admittedly, it was by our own nosiness, but it was trouble nonetheless.

To make a long story short...nah, I'm just fuckin' with ya lol. I ain't gonna tell ya.

To be real with you? I literally can't tell you because it'll be, what I feel, is a major spoiler, and there's no way for me to finesse it and tell you what happened without it completely spoiling it...even though I'm pretty certain you can read between the lines and see what's going on.

Just in case you didn't catch on and want a little more insight, I'll tell you this much: Remember that we live in a world where people have animal associations, meaning certain qualities, appearances, and abilities can be adopted; Thaumo has a strong association with his animal...

Again, I'm pretty sure you can read between the lines, but even still, you think you might know what's going on just off that, but you honestly have no clue, because also remember...

There's two yanderes this time, and I didn't even tell you Nalis' animal association.

I'm telling you -- it's not as clear of a picture as you may be thinking.

Okay, so admitedly, this review is LONG over due, because I played this months ago and just never finished the review for it, but I am so excited for this game to be completed!

The story itself is so interesting, and the fact that-- ah, I can't tell you but damn it, just, if you could still figure it out without me saying it or you could read between the lines, I'm just really geeked about this, and I want to see how everything pans out.

Like, I know that the content warning included gaslighting, but I didn't know that it meant like IRL! Like, I was -- oh my fu -- I can't really tell you that either! This is actually frustrating, not gonna lie lol.

Like I've mentioned, I am fairly confident that you can tell what's going on based on what I gave you despite me not explicitly saying it and doing my damndest to tip toe around it...but just know that that whole "gaslighting" content warning is applying IRL for me right now. Like, I have so many questions, and I demand that this game be finished so that I can get them answered!

The other wild part about this game, though, is that, if you actually go back and read it after getting some more information, there's actually allusions as to what's going on in certain scenarios! It literally made me go "Ohhhh now that part makes more sense! ... Yo, that's crazy". Like, it's honestly pretty well done as far being just discreetly enough to have you kind've gloss over it, but you can definitely pick up on it if you pay attention to it, especially if you go to replay it for the other endings.

Now, let's talk about the pacing. Pretty solid and well done, in my opinion! There were definitely some parts that were definitely more "storytelling based", but it didn't drag on for long, and the storytelling bits made sense and were necessary. Admittedly, it had somewhat rushed transitions to certain parts, but I still thought it flowed pretty damned well in all honesty. Then again, that's what happens when you have an interesting storyline, and people are more interested in the story itself versus the "You wake up the next day, and head to work after getting ready" transition.

Then again, I honestly prefer it to be that versus "You wake up. You go to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You look at your teeth. Ick. You get over the ick. You walk out. You go to the kitchen. You open the fridge. You reach it. You grab the mi--" Like oh my Gods, bro, I get it. Please get on with it. It's like, I get it because it's necessary, but like get to the point. That just kills the momentum to me, or if there wasn't any momentum to start with, it just makes the story/transition drag for longer than it needs to. Speaking of making things longer than needed and getting on with it...

If it's not obvious at this point, I definitely recommend this game. I recommend it so much that I will be providing you the link right here, right now, multiple times in a row. So just...ya know...click on any of those and download it to your computer, brah. All jokes and silliness aside, you'd be seriously missing out if you don't, because the story is there, and I find it super interesting. Also! If you'd like to, give the dev that ever encouraging and desperate "DROP ANOTHER UPDATE, AND MY LIFE IS YOURS~! Also, really love your game! You're doing really well! BUT PLEASE LET ME BANG NALIS AND THAUMO!". Also, also! I didn't see anything that indicated that they were open to monetary support, but if you find it, I'm sure they'd really appreciate the donation.

That all being said, that is finally all from me, and I will let you go about your day now! Big preesh for getting this far. Huge reminder! Please drink water, don't be dumb, and hope to see you around~!

Symptoms of Deceit

[dreadsuitsamus]

Daddy's Little Secret | Isshin Kurosaki x Reader |

part two

author's note: this idea has been in my head for a good while now, and i've finally decided to write it! there won't be much of a story in this, as i plan each chapter to be a sexual encounter between isshin and reader

pairing: isshin kurosaki x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, no explicit smut but it is sexual and suggestive, masturbation, voyeurism, age gap, reader is a few years older than ichigo

“Are you sure this is okay, Ichigo?” You murmur as he leads you up the pathway of his home, the younger man carrying your bags for you. “I don't wanna just barge in… You haven't even asked your dad if it's cool—”

“Dad’s not gonna care.” Ichigo shakes his head. “He'd rather you stay on our couch than in your car on the street. It's okay. Just trust me.”

Sighing, you follow your friend inside and slip your shoes off politely. Your housing situation has hit a bit of a snag and you're officially, though hopefully temporarily, homeless. Ichigo's to the rescue as always, however, and was quick to give you a warm helping hand, just as he was when you first met him. Being a bartender is wonderful, but the drawbacks such as rowdy, creepy drunks tend to call for more forceful measures than your best holler can provide. Luckily for you, Ichigo has a helluva right hook and you've been friends ever since!

Setting your bags down, Ichigo starts a quick tour of the house. You've met his family before, as the bar you work for is also a restaurant, but you've never been to the Kurosaki household. It's surprisingly well-put together despite the chaotic relationship of Ichigo and his father, though it's likely due to Ichigo's younger sisters, if you had to guess.

“My dad's not home yet, but he should be here soon with my sisters.” Ichigo murmurs as he grabs some linens from the hall closet; tonight the couch will have to do for him, as he's a gentleman and will absolutely give up his room for you, but he'll arrange to stay with his sweet girl Orihime for a little while starting tomorrow. He's not looking forward to it: how his father naps on that lumpy, uncomfortable old couch so easily is a mystery!

“Thank you, Ichigo.” You murmur softly. “I'll try to get out of your hair soon.”

Your friend merely waves a hand and sets the sheet and blankets on the arm of the couch before grabbing the remote and turning the television on. The mind-numbing cartoon isn't performing for you, however, as your heart thrums in anticipation. Ichigo's father, Isshin Kurosaki, doesn't seem like he'd mind your presence, but the worry remains. You know you'd certainly have some feelings about such an unexpected guest!

Your poor heart nearly pops when the sound of voices at the front door get louder upon entry, and Ichigo stands to meet his family, lest his father say or do something embarrassing before you've even been announced. Yuzu rushes to her older brother's arms as Karin spots you, perking a thin brow. Ichigo doesn't tend to bring friends home, especially not since he started college.

“What's up?” She cuts her eyes to her older brother, and Ichigo explains more to Isshin, who is oddly quiet, rather than Karin.

“She needs a place to stay for a little while.”

Isshin nods, turning to look at you. He's as handsome as ever, his stubble grown out a tad more than it was the last time you'd seen him at the bar, and his smile is gorgeous and polite, though you can't escape the feeling of it being more muted than you're used to. “Stay as long as you need to. Any friend of Ichigo's is always welcome here.”

“Thank you, sir.” Your cheeks warm, relief washing down your shoulders. Gazing at your wrist to check the time, you sigh softly. “I’ve got to get ready for my shift tonight.”

“I'll walk you to your car.” Ichigo offers, and waits patiently as you wash up and change into your uniform. Isshin settles onto the couch beside his only son, thumbing at the stack of linens to be used for his temporary bed tonight.

“You know I don't mind taking in your friend.” He starts, voice low in the event you come downstairs and overhear him. “I just would've appreciated a heads up.” Unsaid is that he would've used that advance notice to fix his hair up before you saw him, and perhaps undone a button or two on his shirt.

“Sorry, Dad.” Ichigo murmurs. “Her roommate dropped the bomb on her last night that she had to leave. We spent all day moving her things to a storage unit.”

Isshin rubs at his chin, gently tugging at the bit of stubble. He's gotta shave tonight, he thinks. “You givin’ your room up?”

“Yeah.”

Isshin claps his hand on his son's shoulder. He's raised a good man, one that he's incredibly proud of! He squeezes for a brief moment before pulling away just as you come downstairs, dressed in your simple work uniform. High-waisted jeans and a t-shirt with the bar’s name splashed over the front and tucked into your waistband make for a pretty sight, especially with the low cut that provides Isshin with a hearty eyeful of cleavage. It's what deters him from visiting your bar more often; his daughters don't need to see how much their pervy father longs to faceplant in between your breasts.

Ichigo and his father stand and your eyes flit to gaze at the older man. “I’ll be back around 2:30. I'll be quiet, I promise!”

“You couldn't wake Dad if you tried.” Ichigo deadpans. Isshin's cheeks warm at your giggles, and he tackles Ichigo to the ground. Embarrassing his own father right in front of an absolute babe??? Unforgivable!

“Dad, come on!” Karin shouts, scrambling to intervene now. With a guest over??? Her dad has lost his mind!

Grinning softly at the madness, Karin having been sucked into the wrestling while Yuzu rushes in with a broom to smack at them all, the heels of your boots click on the hardwood as you head for the door. Your stay here certainly won't be dull!

With a sigh, you tiredly park your car outside of the Kurosaki home. Work was rough, and nothing sounds more wonderful than a hot shower and some rest, and maybe even a sandwich if you can stay awake long enough.

You're met at the door by Isshin, who presses a gentle finger over his lips as the sounds of Ichigo's snores ring out. Laughing softly as the older man winks, you slip your boots off at the door. “You're up pretty late.”

“Insomnia.” Isshin shrugs casually and follows you up the stairs, shamelessly staring at your ass the whole way up. “Heard your car pull up. Wanted to make sure you got in safely.”

“Ah.” At the top of the landing, you pause for a moment with Isshin just across from you, his henley and plaid pajama pant combo somehow striking. Perhaps batting your lashes more than you should be at a friend's father, you lick your lips, teeth slowly dragging along the flesh of your bottom lip. “Thank you, Mr. Kurosaki.”

“Isshin. After hours, anyway.” He tucks his hands in his pockets with a shrug, perking a brow at the embarrassing admission from your stomach. “Hungry, hm?”

Cheeks fiery and the tip of your nose and ears burning, you duck your head. “Mm… A little. Ichigo and I had some lunch earlier, but that's all I had to eat. Besides a few fries at the bar, anyway.” And an iced coffee to start the morning!

Isshin shakes his head. “Girl dinner.” He grumbles with a scoff and an eye roll— he's treated too many women that hardly eat at all and then complain about headaches! Turning to start back down the steps, Isshin waves a hand. “I’ll warm up the dinner leftovers.”

Covering your mouth to hide a giggle, you venture into Ichigo's bedroom and rifle around your messily packed suitcases for a fresh pair of panties and pajamas. Exhaustion weighs down your bones and a big yawn leaves you damn near spent, though you power through enough to grab a thong and a tank top to get you through the night. Everyone should be out of the house by the time you wake up to start your day, so the worries of anyone catching a peek of your cheeks don't settle.

Rubbing your tired eyes as the shower warms, you sigh with pleasure as the hot water spreads and soothes the ache between your shoulders. Life has been nothing but stressful lately, this recent move only the cherry on top the shitshow mountain. College is hard, work is unfulfilling and the tip money only barely covers the bills, and your sex life has tanked.

Thinking about sex as you run the soapy washcloth over your breasts probably isn't the best idea, but it doesn't stop your other hand from the pinches and tugs of your nipples to relieve some of the pressure. Leaning against the shower wall, your teeth dip into your lip as your fingers do a bit of walking. It's nothing but a tease, a shallow dipping of your fingers to feel the wetness gathering between your folds. A few soft, breathy gasps pass beyond the thin curtain that veils you, but the man with perceptive brown eyes in the hall pushes the door open just a tad wider than you'd left it to peer into that gap.

Isshin smirks softly, licking his lip as he watches you touch yourself. He's wanted a piece of you since he first saw you, as forbidden of an idea as that is. You're his son's friend! He can't. Even if you wanted to, and he thinks you do, it can't happen. That's a line he can't cross… He's too old for you, anyway.

Though as he watches you slowly rub your clit and toy with your breasts, he's sure that this old dog could show you the best night of your life. With a wistful sigh and a firm squeeze to his cock, Isshin heads downstairs before he's caught perving and fixes your plate of dinner properly.

Biting your lip through a grin, you're quickly out of the shower and drying off before Isshin's back upstairs. Of course that old man's the type to peep in on a young woman's shower! You laid the trap and he walked right into it— what a typical doofus of a man.

You've just slipped into your thong when you hear Isshin moving upstairs again, and you purposely ditch the tank top in favor of looping the towel over your shoulders, your breasts just barely covered by the blue cotton as Isshin turns the corner with a warm plate of food in hand and heads for Ichigo's bedroom.

Two gentle taps of his knuckle on the bedroom door are all you get before he's letting himself in, and for a moment he falters at the sight of you. He really should have taken that melatonin tonight… You're before him in a skimpy thong with only a teeny tiny towel over your breasts, and he has to act like he's fine. Like he's not ready to pounce and pound you into pure oblivion. He can't.

This being a father thing is so damn difficult!

Finding the pause cute and the dumb look on Isshin's face even cuter, you smirk gently and approach him with a swish in your hips. His Adam's apple bobs when you're so close to him he can see the few beads of water on your collarbone, and fuck he wants to lick them away and leave a bite or two…

“Something on your mind?” You practically purr at him, and aren't you just awful! Flirting with your friend's father, the one with a dead wife and three kids he's had to raise by his lonely…

Carefully, the man licks his lips and forces himself to look you in the eye, and frankly he's not sure if that pretty face is making his little problem in his pants any better. “No.”

Reaching up, the backs of your fingers gently graze over the side of his face. “That's a shame… Would've loved to hear all about it. I'm sure you've got some… Interesting ideals.”

A growl forms at the back of Isshin's throat, low and deep and the glint in your eye at the sound just makes him want to tug that towel off and—

Well, now you've gone and done that part for him.

Dropping the towel to the floor, you rub Isshin's jaw, his beard noticeably trimmed down to the way he usually likes it. “You shaved. It looks nice.”

“Just nice?” Isshin sets the plate on the desk, his fingers itching to touch your supple skin as he loops them around the thin bands of your thong, his thumbs rubbing the silky fabric. “Not sexy? Ravishing, even? How about a place you'd like to sit?”

A chuckle bubbles in your chest alongside the fireworks going off inside. The door's wide open and it's three in the morning, any of his kids are liable to get up and use the bathroom at any time! Pressing your hands to his chest, you find him firmer than you thought he'd be. “What makes you think I need something like that from you?”

Isshin clicks his tongue, snapping your thong against your skin as you softly push him away. “My bad for assuming. I just thought with, you know, the way you touched yourself in the shower that you've been a bit pent up.” With a wink and a shit-eating grin, Isshin's closing the door behind him and heading back to his bedroom.

Goosebumps litter your body, and that sly little smile doesn't leave your lips even after you've finished eating and settle in for bed. It's been one night and you've already nearly fucked your friend's father— it's not a matter of if now. Just when.

And will you be able to hide it from Ichigo?

[somnolenthour]

𝑨𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒔

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x f!Reader

CONTAINS: Fingering, nudity, unconsentual touching, light human trafficking(?), rich people nonsense, unconventional marriage

A/N: I had this concept in my head for like ever so... If people like it, I'll continue it.

You hissed out of habit, the sharp astringent scent of alcohol burning your nose as the nurse prepped your arm. It was obvious what was going to happen next and frankly, you didn’t want to see as the needle pierced your skin like it did several times before. The phlebotomist was skilled, probably doing this a million times before and while the prospect of getting your blood drawn again never got old and the fear of needles never exactly went away. The bundle of nerves that twisted and tied in on itself like an ouroboros-esque manifestation of anxiety trumped the other fears you usually had.

“You have beautiful veins.” The voice of the doctor was distant, your mind wandering to another place while they pressed down on the small wound with a rolled up piece of gauze.

“Thanks..” You looked down at your feet, focusing a bit on the glitter left in the cherry red polish that went unnoticed the night before when tired eyes focused on the ceiling instead of your roommate that painted them when she ran out of her own nails to paint. Courtney was especially nervous that their time in this school was ending.

“So why did you join?” Courtney lazily slumped on your bed like a cat, her stuffed animals probably more judgemental than she ever could be. The magazine on your lap growing clammy as you mulled over the reason you decided to ‘throw your life away’ by joining your mother’s footsteps by joining St.Monica’s academy for prestigious young women. It was practically a finishing school with a focus more on the aspect of marriage than education. It was invite only with only girls coming from money (like Courtney) or coming from good stock (much like yourself).

“I sort of wasn’t going to join.” Your fingers trailed along the magazine, the scent of the perfume sample wafting in the air in thought.

Courtney raised a brow, wanting you to elaborate.

“My folks divorced y’know? I know that’s like a huge no-no around here.” You blinked in thought. “But I guess they put that whole pride in making successful wives aside.”

“So…” Courtney blinked a bit. “Why join then?”

“Bored.” You shrugged. “Apparently I have a unique gene pool, though. Learned that yesterday.” You rubbed your arm.

“That’s cool.” The blonde rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, too lazy to crawl back to her own bed.

“Why did you join?”

“Oh right.. yeah.. Uhm…” She closed her eyes tight, biting her lip as she forced the answer to the surface like it was the hardest thing for her to do right now. “My folks thought it was easier than just sifting through all these eligible bachelors or whatever. I wasn’t really listening..” She put her hand on her head.

“So in a few years they’re just going to auction us off.” Sure the idea of marrying into wealth was nice but it was all up to chance.

“Did you ever want to marry for love?” Courtney opened her eyes, her tired expression looking for some type of reassurance but you couldn’t pin what type she really wanted. Instead you closed your magazine and laid back as well.

“I never really saw myself getting married in general. Plus love is so… complicated. All these guys want is a pretty face that will smile and suck their dick, turn a blind eye to whatever they’re doing behind closed doors because what business is it for us to know anyways?”

“I think I just want a baby..” Courtney sighed.

“Here’s your number.” The assisting nurse pressed a temporary tattoo to your neck, the cool sensation making you shiver beneath the cardigan you wore to stave away the early winter chill that seemed to creep in through the cracks of the building that have stayed with minimal updates since the Victorian era. You hopped off of the examination table and joined your peers outside of the office. All of them in a similar state as they stared out at the shiny new cars that lined up outside. The men outside that they did see were all dressed in black with masks to match it.

“It looks like a funeral out there..” Courtney cut through to you, her soft voice hoarse from her crying last night.

“Because it is.” You shook your head and all those years of learning etiquette, studying high societal rules, cooking, child rearing, sexual education (with physical courses for learning positions..), and whatever was slipping your mind were all about to put you into play, and it felt like it all was about to be booted out of your head in a matter of moments. They all wore numbers, they’d all get sold off to the highest bidder, and they all would become whatever their husband they wanted to be. Maybe it was the regret settling in, or maybe it was the terror of the unknown, but you didn’t want that anymore.

“Who do you think will sell the highest?” Courtney joined you by the window sill, both of your eyes trailing to the crowd and the realization you’ve known almost all of these faces for years falls on you. The same uniform shirtdress style that everyone attempted to modify so it didn’t look downright geriatric, hair pulled up, accessories, layers, different colored tights, loafers of varying neutral colors. This was all they knew.

“Evelyn.”

“I think Kristie might have her beat.”

“What about Jean? She has a bright smile.” They both glanced over at Jean, who was busy laughing and pointing out the window without a care. Any smart man would choose her. She’d be easy to parade around. “Not me though, I’m going to be twenty dollars.”

“Twenty dollars?!” Courtney snorted, “If you’re twenty, then I’m worth a pack of razzles!”

“Courtney, have some self-respect!” She huffed, “You’re at least worth a pack of tropical razzles.” You both laughed now, leaning on each other.

“Keep in touch with me if you can, okay?” She sniffled. “I don’t know how, but if we meet up again..”

“You know I will.” The hug was crushing, you both sniffling. “Please don’t cry..”

“I should tell you the same thing!”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Despite various warnings and being told about this constantly from established matrons to the point that it became an inside joke for after the first year, you absolutely weren’t ready for the pre-auction showing where you’d wander the room completely naked with these men (who might be your future husband in the next few hours) could touch you as they discussed amongst themselves.

Of course, you counted your blessings that you weren’t popular. You watched as others were bent and fingered, breast squeezed. Soft noises of pleasure and embarrassment joining a chorus of casual conversation and laughter. With no hiding spot around, you wandered until a hand snatched you mid-stride. “Looks like I found a stray.” A particularly smooth voice chuckled, pulling you toward his large frame. His face was hidden, but his brown hair was masterfully sculpted to the point where the fly-aways seemed like they were there with purpose. His hand tilted your neck to read your tattoo. “One-four-three.. Cute..”

You side-eyed him, his sense of humor falling flat.

“It means ‘I love you’ sweetheart.” Even with his eyes hidden, you could feel his eyes wander along your body. The heat blossoming beneath your skin seemed to travel as his gaze settled between your legs. He placed a hand on your stomach, feeling hot and feather-like as beautifully manicured fingers circled your clit slowly. “Are you a virgin?” You gasped and almost stepped away but the anonymous man held you in place, the immediate slickness made you want to shrivel up but the sensation was unlike any other.

“Yes..” Sure you fooled around a little before. You were in your mid-twenties, but it was nothing more than some kisses and a bit of groping.

His finger moved away, leaving a trail of transparent slick connecting you both. “I’ll keep that in mind, Sweetheart.”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Of course you were last.

Something karmic had to happen at some point in your four years, and whatever it cost, it equaled being dead last in an auction where you were certain that it was just perverted old men or something worse. You pushed back a displeased groan as a matron guided you to a stage with harsh studio lighting that made it hard to see out into the crowd of dark masks but you were certain there were several of them left. You felt like a deer in headlights as the distant mummer of conversation began to die down.

“Meet number #143!” The audioner called out, “No known health conditions, curious disposition, has a lineage for hyperovulation for the fellas that need heirs! Perfect companion for the businessman who loves travel, hymen still intact. The starting price is twenty-five thousand!”

The crowd exploded into shouts and waving signs, and your eyes darting around as a pit grew in your stomach. The price on your head ticking up and up, much like your heart rate.

786-

872!

900!

The crowd began to quiet down, and others were either unable or unwilling to touch the price. You stood in disbelief.

“Nine-hundred thousand dollars! Going once! Going Twice-”

“A million.” A sign raised, casual.

“A million!” The audioner screamed, the excitement overwhelming. “Going once! Going Twice! Sold to the gentleman before me!”

They wrote the number on the man’s sign on a sticker before slapping it over your tattoo, guiding you behind the stage to sign paperwork. “Congratulations Mrs.Bateman.” A matron smiled warmly as you signed your name on the marriage license.

“That was nervewreck-”

“A million?!” Evelyn was inconsolable from the other end of the room, her friends consoling her. “I barely broke seven hundred, and she’s a million?! Fucking bitch-”

You shrunk back, the pen being taken from you as you rushed to get dressed again.

Mrs. Bateman..

Why was that name familiar?

[sweetfire01]

hi! i have a story suggestion, the ideas been so interesting! i know you have daddy howl and stuff, maybe this could be a new idea? im not too sure on any merman characters, but you could find some and adapt if youd like! or perhaps make an oc? anyway:

the merman was caught and trapped as a result of a circus attraction. user felt pity and decided to help him escape, though that resulted in user being shot. user was bleeding out and told the merman to leave, but he couldnt! so he took user down, blowing an airbubble for user to breathe. he took user to a healer, who gave user the ability to breathe underwater, and heal user.

merfolk are actually much larger than humans and he was around 7foot, maybe more with his tail. so user is actually tiny, and roughly the size of a merbaby. at first, the merman treats user like a normal person, but the merman realises how helpless user is. user cant swim, and water is heavy for user to walk in. so user looks like a baby learning to walk. user relies on the merman alot for support, and lets the merman carry user since it helps her get places. the merman also has to carry user when they go out, since user cant tread water or swim and will sink.

the merman holds a small feast of all the underwater foods for user to try. but user has an allergic reaction to one of the foods and cant speak anymore. user can only make babyish sounds. when they go out for treatment and shopping, the merman stumbles across a friend. the friend thinks user is a baby and this sparks something in the merman. he realises he enjoys having user helpless.

the merman actually includes the food that has caused user to not talk in each of users meal. to make sure the temporary effect lasts longer.

its a bit long T^T but this idea seems so cool! its so adaptable and theres so many things that could affect user since its an entirely new environment. if you dont want to write a story abt this pls give feedback! id love to adapt a short story about this, but either way would love to see you write on this!

not sure if it’s taken but,

🥯 anon ^w^

Oh, (bagel? donut?) anon. You don't know how much I loved and thought on this idea. 👀

Come al solito, è più breve di quanto inizialmente previsto, ma volevo darvi qualcosa da leggere.

(Tell me if there is any mistake, I'm sleepy and didn't pay attention while rereading)

PT. 1 of this new fic for which I don't have a title yet

News of the merman sighting had spread for almost a week among the fishermen and residents of the harbor, but you didn't believe it was true, much less that your boss would catch it. "First the shark and now this. The hunts are going really well and that one will make us a big profit!" He had exclaimed that evening on his return to the circus while his henchmen behind him were dragging a net with the merman inside. You all crowded around to get a good look at him, as much as you could see him under the layer of cords and cords in which he was wrapped. He must have put up a good fight against the sailors and it didn't surprise you: he was big, even if you couldn't see his full figure since his tail was tied to his torso, you could swear he was at least 2 meters , probably even more. And yet… he was no longer threatening. At least for the moment. She was breathing heavily, her head turned to the side and from under her long black hair you could see a large dark red, almost brown stain - blood, you guessed it.

"Okay, okay, stop just watching or I'll make you pay for the ticket. It's time to work." The boss called your attention "Use the tank where we had that winged woman. Check that the shackles are well fixed to the ground, then tie him up and fill him with water. Come on, go!" And with that, the two of you split up and you and someone else headed off to prepare the water. The circus consisted of a huge tent overlooking the port. At the bottom, on the side facing the sea, there was a small round tank dug into the ground and protruding just under a meter from the ground, perfect for spectators to observe everything that was inside. In this case, the shark that had been caught just a few weeks ago, a poor creature that kept swimming in circles in a space too small for it. You and your colleague climbed over the barriers while two other workers approached carrying a large, long pipe. The tub had two valves, on one side one connected to an underground pump which allowed the recirculation of water directly from the sea, and another, where you were, more external. You connected the hose to the latter just as the capturing team brought the tank in.

It had thick plates of extremely resistant glass - despite all the kicking and punching from the creatures locked inside, there wasn't even a scratch - held together by a metal structure. The base was also made of metal, with shackles for limbs firmly attached. Honestly, you didn't know why such a thing existed, nor what it could possibly be used for (besides holding your creatures) but it had been provided to you courtesy of the mayor of the city, along with the tent and the warehouse where you kept the stuff. The boss was very happy about it. And speaking of the boss… Once everything was in place and some other worker opened the side door and emptied the sandbags into the bottom of the tank, you saw him and a couple of goons approach with the merman still tied up. He must have regained consciousness considering the way he was struggling, but still he had no way to free himself.

"You're not going to escape from here that easily. Especially not after I put these on you." The boss took one of the handcuffs with a sneer. He then opened the net and knelt down, holding the creature's head still as he closed the collar around its neck, effectively fasten him to the bottom. "Oh, don't worry, it's just so you don't cause any trouble while we take the ropes off. We'll just keep you tied up by the arms, all right?" He only received a growl-like noise in response. With that, he stood up and glared at the two men who were with him. "We should be safe with him like this, but if he escapes I'll make you become food for the shark, understood? Take the two handcuffs and as soon as I free him, be quick to put them on him." So, once they were ready, he took out a knife and started cutting the ropes around his torso.

Immediately, the rest of you who were observing the scene outside the tank, saw a muscular arm flail and free itself from the bonds. One of the two men promptly grabbed him and together with the boss held him with difficulty while trying to put the handcuff on his wrist. The merman continued to flail and managed to free his other arm as well. The second man wasn't so quick to stop him and the creature threw a punch at the boss, hitting him in the face. But the throttle was now closed and soon both limbs were trapped. The boss was a sturdier man than he looked and even with drops of blood dripping from his nose he didn't give up. He took a key out of his pocket and bent down to free the prisoner's neck, while the other two ran out. He then pulled his hair, looking into his eyes. "You throw some good punches, I give you that. But I've faced creatures much bigger and more ferocious than you, don't think you can defeat me so easily. Well, at this point, not that you can really do much." He chuckled. A slick of saliva hit his forehead, mixing with blood from his nose as it fell. The boss simply assumed an amused expression, tightening his grip on his hair even more. "I like your temper. It'll be fun to see how long it takes you to give up." He let him go, allowing him to move into a more seated position as he removed the rest of the net and ropes, and quickly jumped out of the tank just a second before a long, powerful black tail wrapped and tightened where his head was.

"I told you, I know how to deal with you stupid creatures." He closed the door satisfied, leaving the prisoner to try punching and banging the glass with his tail, although the chains ensured he didn't have much room to move. "Now servants, it's your turn to work. Fill this thing with water and clean up all that sand on the floor. Night night." The boss headed towards the exit followed by the rest of his capturing team. There were only you left, a small group of a handful of people, those who carried out the most humble tasks, under the furious gaze of a merman.

[aftgficrec]

hi besties! can i be a bit weird and ask for sick fics here? old/new/favorites, any will do! just some big ol’ hurt/ comfort, especially if combined with some emotional hurt/comfort 🥰

There’s nothing weird about this at all!  Apart from the fics below, there’s also our sickfic tag as well as our hurt/comfort tag for more (see our tag page under the heading ‘themes - injuries/illnesses/conditions’). - S

Previous recs:

cool andreil sick fics here

sick fics here

foxes with headaches/sick fics here

10k+ sick fics here

Andreil in hospital here

Neil with major injury here

Neil gets injured (post canon) here

Neil & car accidents here

accident-prone Neil here

Andreil with amnesia here

medical Andreil/Aaron & Neil here

Neil getting roofied here

Also see… 

‘we're one (there's nothing to be done)’ here

‘Just like that day’ here

‘head case (what to do with you)’ here

‘Such Stuff as Dreams are Made’ here

‘Neil Josten Is a Lucky Man’ here

‘Broken’ here

‘If Only I Were Enough’ (completed) here

‘I'll Come Back To You’ here

‘glass in the trees (objects in the rearview)’ here

‘Running Ragged’ here

‘To Love and Be Loved’ here

‘all that looking down’ here

‘next best thing’, keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?)’ and ‘no matter when and where, we’ll be alright’ here

‘Can Nobody Hear Me (I cannot breathe)’, ‘I remeber tears streaming down your face (for me to wipe them away)’, ‘you crawled inside my head’, ‘living leaves so many holes in us’, ‘Ciggarette Smoke Cure’, ‘Breathless’, ‘i've done my time’ and ‘cats and close calls’ here

‘The Highs and Lows of Pre-med Majors' here (Aaron)

‘Hold My Hand?’ here

‘Echo’ here 

I’m More Than This Body of Mine by yall_send_help [Rated M, 88811 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The doctor took a pause, which Nathaniel was able to use to ask, “what about my leg?” The two pigs had the audacity to look surprised. The doctor looked over at them with a hint of confusion. “You didn’t tell him?” Towns shook his head as Browning said, “you told us not to.” Dr. Byrd nodded her head in approval and turned back to the bed. “Nathaniel…” she trailed off, reevaluating her words. “Would you mind if I sit?” and only after his own nod did she. “The damage done to your leg… it was unlike what most of the staff at this hospital had ever seen. The surgeons tried to save it, but…” She looked down at where his legs were and Nathaniel did too, only to feel himself pale at what he found. “The surgery took about three hours,” Dr. Byrd continued. “The only reason why it took so long was because the surgeons really did try to save your leg. They did. Amputations usually take only half that time. Eventually, Dr. McCoy called it. Because of the damage done to your leg, we couldn’t wake you up to ask. It had to go. I’m sorry.” or - the one where neil goes to baltimore and comes back missing a leg

tw: torture, tw: amputation, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: blood, tw: animal cruelty, tw: implied/referenced drug overdose

fireproof by mostly_maudlin [Rated T, 2097 words, complete, 2024]

Andrew gets his flu shot.

Things Always Gets Worse Before They Gets Better series by Renee_Walker_09 [Rated G, 40141 words, incomplete, 3 complete works, 2024]

Part 1: Beginnings & Endings (G, 1083 words)

It's 1:30 in the morning. The Foxes are celebrating their championship win against the Ravens the only way they know how to: booze, partying, and a little bit more booze. Nothing could possibly ruin this?

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury

Part 2: You Mean Everything To Me (G, 12767 words)

There are two crashed cars. There’s blood on the floor. Lights are flashing all around. Andrew is standing in the middle of the crash site with a blanket draped across his shoulders as he stares straight at Neil, lying on the floor.

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: suicide attempt, tw: drug overdose, tw: blood, tw: self harm

Part 3: Hours, Days, Weeks (G, 26299 words)

Andrew is lying in a coma following the accident. His condition is critical. And Neil and Aaron have to find a way to cope.  Neil and Aaron’s POVs of the crash and the past 6 weeks

tw: car accident, tw: blood, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: self harm, tw: panic attacks, tw: seizures

NB: find art for the fics by the author here as well as embedded in the fics

Even goalkeepers can’t block sickness by BlowingYourMind [Rated G, 12768 words, complete, 2024]

“Rabbit,” Andrew peered up at him with half lidded eyes, “Yes or no?” “Yes ‘Drew,” Neil clasped his hands at Andrew’s elbows, “it’s always a yes, you know that.” “No ‘s not,” Andrew weakly argued as he took hold of Neil’s chest pad, using it to leverage himself upwards. It was awkward work of walking half-delirious Andrew back to the locker room, shielding him from the crowd while keeping him on his feet, but they managed. Or Andrew becomes very sick at an away game, and Neil and the foxes take care of him.

tw: vomit

the upswing by missgivings [Not Rated, 45569 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The next universe over, life has gone a bit easier on Andrew. He’s gainfully employed as a nurse of all things, working beside his best friend Renee, and living in relative harmony with his brother, the recently graduated Dr. Aaron Minyard. Everything’s fine. It’s fine that he hasn’t spoken to Kevin in person for three years. It’s fine if Aaron’s leaving him to marry his stupid doctor girlfriend. It’s fine until the boy with the box-dyed hair stumbles into the ER and passes out at his feet, bringing a world of secrets and trouble with him. And Neil? Neil’s looking for any port in a storm.

tw: major character injury, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced self harm

please (don't bite) by Major_816 [Rated M, 5478 words, complete, 2024]

Genioglossus. It’s a fan-shaped muscle and forms the bulk of the inferior part of the tongue. It stretches to the hyoid bone too. ~ Neil wakes up to a bad day and it just gets worse.

tw: blood, tw: self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: nightmares, tw: flashbacks, tw: vomit

Will you love me for who I am, not for who I was? by something_boring [Rated T, 1580 words, complete, 2024]

Neil is sick on New Year's eve, wakes up to the fireworks, and continues to have a panic attack about his time on the run.

tw: nightmares, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Your Needs, My Needs by TogeMythia [Rated T, 1073 words, complete, 2023]

‘Neil.’ He whined, his face still buried under the blankets. ‘Hrmph?’ Neil responded with a confused noise from somewhere across the bed. ‘Do you feel as shit as you sound?’ - Or Neil and Andrew wake up sick on Christmas day.

tw: vomit

To be safe by HushedStars [Rated G, 2116 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is feeling unwell. He seeks comfort from Matt. It was late at night. Neil stood in the kitchen, deep in thought but still with one ear alert for any movement of his roommates. He shifted from foot to foot, hands digging into his sore neck

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks

Safe with him by 1mNot4Hum4n [Not Rated, 2434 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick but doesn't want to admit it. He can't be sick. He can't be weak. Luckily Andrew is there to make sure his junkie is okay, and remind him that he has people around him who are willing to do anything to protect him.

'tis the season by moonix [Rated T, 5579 words, complete, 2023, locked]

Five holidays Andrew had to let Kevin take care of him and one time he got to return the favour.

i called your name ‘til the fever broke by cyanica [Rated T, 5632 words, incomplete, last updated Nov 2023]

Neil’s breath is hot and awful against Andrew’s thigh. “I can’t be sick on your birthday,” he says, like it’s that simple. “I can’t be sick on you on your birthday.” “How considerate,” Andrew’s voice is a bland murmur, and he is left watching Neil’s bloodless, wet lips, as he curls into Andrew’s lap. Neil gently pulls away after a moment, leaning back into Andrew’s hand on his neck. “Is me being sick still making you anxious?” he asks. Fever-stricken with dizzied-eyes and delirious thoughts, he knows Andrew without more than a moment beside him, a look into his eyes that makes Andrew feel undone, found. Or Neil is sick and Andrew isn’t coping well.

tw: vomit, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation, tw: anxiety

You Know I'm Good On My Own by sambutwithbooks [Rated G, 4568 words, complete, Aftg Then And Now 2023]

Andrew breaks his arm two games into the season and it feels a little bit like Neil’s world snaps with it. (A snapshot of Neil and Andrew between Andrew coming home from the hospital and going back home to Palmetto State.)

tw: major character injury

that's my line by sillyunicorn6154 [Rated G, 1291 words, complete, 2023]

Andrew is definitely not sick. But he is a little stubborn.

You're not fine, but you will be by karmenvi [Not Rated, 616 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick, so Andrew takes care of him. So it was supposed to be a sickfic, but it turned into 'Andrew stares at Neil and thinks his boyfriend is the prettiest boy in the world.' Anyway, enjoy some fluff.

I'll be okay if he's here by obsessivereader156 [Not Rated, 1673 words, complete, 2023]

“Thank you, Drew,” Neil says for the twentieth time, feeling so lucky to have someone take care of him. “Say it again and I will kill you.” “You’re just so nice to me,” Neil says a bit deliriously, “I’ve never had someone take care of me when I’m sick.”

If it means losing you, then no by LostMess_24 [Rated T, 6712 words, complete, 2023]

There was something against his hand, a pressure he knew too well, a hand that fit so perfectly against his, making Andrew’s presence known, making Neil’s entire body relax, slowing his breathing a bit. But before Neil could see the man at his side, it hit him. He was starting to feel it, all around him. Those white walls, the mattress he was in, the soft yet old sheets, the pressure on his arm. And finally, unmistakably, the regular and aggressive beeps, signs of a life that was his own. He was in a hospital bed. There’s an accident. Those idiots would do anything and everything to protect each other.

tw: major character injury, tw: car accidents

cause and effect by mistyrie [Rated M, 13107 words, complete, 2023]

"Andrew realized what he was seeing but he couldn’t comprehend it. He didn’t know how to help. There was no enemy to deal with – there was just Neil seizing on the floor and Andrew didn’t know what to do." Neil starts having seizures and Andrew tries to help.

tw: seizures (epilepsy)

how the foxes act when they're sick by @detectivebambam [tumblr, 2024]

headcanons on the foxes and illness

headcanons on Neil getting sick by @24-0z [tumblr, 2022]

Neil doesn't get sick very often, so when he finally catches the bug that had been going around campus, he's suddenly 8 years old again, sweating and trembling with fever

SICK!Neil for my soul. by @satan-in-a-v-neck [tumblr, 2021]

Neil is acting strange. Ask every fox and they'll tell you that for the past three days Neil Josten wasn't acting very Neil Josteny.

tw: vomit

illness/injuries as background event:

The Songs Around Us by doodlingstuff [Rated M, 80075 words, complete, 2022]

The mission was simple: Nathaniel would join Astral Foxes as Neil Josten and make them part of Moriyama Music. In reality, Neil became real, found a home, and fell in love despite his lies. When the Moriyamas send the Butcher to remind Neil of his mission and Andrew's life ends on the line, Neil will have to find a way to escape his fate and bring Andrew back. As he gets closer to losing the man he loves the most, Neil will realize that sometimes, music is the only answer, and others, truth is the only weapon he can use. Another Band!AU. This time extra angsty.

tw: torture, tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: violence

NB: find art for this fic by @doodlingstuff here

[pudding-parade]

I guess we can consider this something of a mini world overview, which is something I want to get back into doing one of these days.

This is Qornenthus, an alien world by @risastorm. So far as I can tell, it's only available on their Exchange account, not on their Tumblr blog, for whatever reason. It's a world that I've had on my radar for a long time, wanting to create an alien society on it. So, I've decided to have a stab at it, to create a homeworld for these guys, whom I'm considering to be sort of mostly-post-technology. Not in a disastrous/apocalyptic way but rather as a society that mutually agreed to screw it all and "return to monke" -- Or in their case, "return to archosaur-ish" -- while still retaining some technology and such.

Anyway, I haven't really done any kind of "technical" building in Sims games since my early, pre-sharing-on-the-internet days of playing TS2 back in the mid-aughts, mostly because I generally don't enjoy playing the resulting kind of lots. They tend to be more complex and multi-level than I like to play. But for some reason, I've been itching to do some more "technical" building, and want to build something here. It will involve large lots spanning peaks, valleys, and bodies of water, with some elevated architecture, maybe some treehouses, so it's going to involve some terraforming, both temporary and permanent, if I can get it to work like I want at all. So before I tear things up, I thought I'd try out some lighting mods and take some "before" pics, with no Reshade or any image editing.

The lighting I landed on is Brntwaffles's Dystopian lighting, which is what's shown in the pictures on this post, though I edited the mod to make the moon unnecessarily enormous. It has the "feel" I want for these aliens and, as a bonus, it makes the water look suitably swampy, though I'll be adding fog emitters and more plants to make it more so. Then I'll need a suitable rainy/stormy alien Tempest preset. Oh! I should also mention that I have defaults for the game's "fantasy" trees, to make them a bit less fantasy-looking. For some reason, it lops off the heads of the mushroom trees; I can't remember if that's what it's supposed to do. LOL

Anyway, here are some more pictures because I took a lot of them at various times of day and in various conditions…

I'm calling this an "overview," but really there's not a lot to say about the world. It's extremely cool-looking, if you like alien-swamp sorts of environments, as you can see in the pics. But, it has no roads, no lots, and no flat building areas at all, anywhere, so if you want to use it, you have to place lots in Edit Town. Lots will place just about anywhere and, as far I saw, sims can route pretty much everywhere, too. Once you get lots placed, you'll need to do some more technical building for yourself because downloaded pre-built lots aren't going to fly here.

The world does have lots of spawners, especially insect and rock ones, except that it has no fish spawners at all, which is kind of funny given the amount of water. It doesn't have spawners from Island Paradise or Into the Future, either, but everything else is there. I'm not really sure what EPs it's going to need, and anything it's going to need is going to be vegetation-related because there's literally nothing else here. I do know that those bamboo trees come with World Adventures, and I'm pretty sure the rainbow eucalyptus trees come with Pets and the banana trees and alocasia come with Island Paradise. So there's that.

And that's about all there is to say, really. The rest, as they say, is silence pictures.

Oh! The one and only thing that I'm not fond of in the world is that it has a lot of rainbow spawners. And by "a lot" I mean a riotously excessive amount.

That's not even all of them. Thankfully, they aren't there all the time.

So yeah! Cool world. I'm looking forward to doing some work on it. If I'm at all successful at doing what I want to do with it, I will, of course, share pics.

[goodluckclove]

Author Ask Tag?!

hey @goldfinchwrites tagged me in a thing! cool! thanks, man! i'll use this as an opportunity to share a little bit about one of two projects i plan to work on starting in march while I wait for migration patterns to be beta'd. i'm playing around with an episodic radio show-style series that i'm calling sunderland forever.

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

so sunderland forever centers around the end of the world, seen through multiple, perhaps unconnected individuals. starting in portland, oregon, reality has started burning away. it started with a small black hole hanging in midair, seen in an abandoned lot near the columbia river. but it's slowly growing. and there are rumors of additional "cue marks" as some call them being found in other parts of the city. places that touch the cue mark as it expands are suddenly wiped from memory, even if they haven't yet been fully eaten by the void. the same goes for people - maybe.

there's nothing anyone can do. no one's really reacting in a way that makes sense. it's more mundane than anyone would ever expect from the end of the world.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

smart writer answer: I was fascinated by what I've read so far of Christopher Brown's A Natural History of Empty Lots. Portland is a city with it's fair share of abandoned structures - some spent years in limbo before suddenly being vanished into vacant concrete and gravel seemingly overnight.

We also have a lot of living things we either struggle to understand or choose to push aside entirely. Sunderland, a semi-industrial neighborhood in Portland, has been home to an RV Safe space for unhoused individuals to get their vehicles off the street and congregate for easier access to crucial services. This park, built to be temporary, is set to close at the end of March to give space for the Bureau of Transportation to store maintenance equipment. Despite plans for a new RV park opening nearby, the entire situation reads as an odd reshuffling of a very prominent problem.

You wouldn't think it would be so easy to avoid a 25k-square foot building, much less a growing population of human beings. And yet it happens so often. So it's an intriguing concept to explore what it looks like when reality starts taking over the forgotten, much like how nature takes back an abandoned structure. What does that look like, and what - if anything - changes when the forgotten is no longer our decision?

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

honest writer answer: i've missed writing scripts and this seems like a cool way to get back into that. you can also do more with radio plays, despite the obvious limitations. this concept is like kind of satire and it's potentially more timely than i'd prefer. but i'd still be aiming for a sort of dark absurdism akin to eugene ionesco's play rhinoceros.

uh but no one's trying to achieve anything. if they do try it might not really work. that's kind of the point. reality is literally burning away in a way so unfathomable that most people eventually have to shift focus and keep on going to work and taking care of their children or whatever.

i don't have a lesson. i don't have anything i'm trying to prove. it just seems like a cool concept to explore.

How many chapters is your story going to have?

chapters = episodes

episode length = maybe like twenty minutes? definitely one-act length.

answer = who fucking knows

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

original concept! it'll probably be on soundcloud or something. maybe my patreon. wherever i post it it'll be free.

When did you start writing?

writing anything? twelve. i wrote a 10k novella. wrote my first novel at thirteen. wrote and produced my first script at sixteen. published at - eighteen, i think?

wrote this? i haven't. i'm still percolating and reading to develop different concepts. i have till end of february to finish migration patterns and then i can switch gears.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

write a lot. don't be afraid of failure. you're going to fail, that's part of the thing. failure in art doesn't look the same as it does in life unless your failure is also an act of public bigotry or literal crime. write a lot. like, write something right now. be indulgent and weird and too into your material. get comfortable with a silent reception because in original fiction you're going to have a lot of it and it's fine. enjoy what you do. also take breaks and live life so you can enjoy that too.

uh i'll tag some cool folks that are also wonderful writers you should groove on!

@mushroommanchanterelle (his lore drops on penumbra lately have been legit wild)

@xarrixii (flash/burn is fantastic it has been such a wonderful confusion having to engage with a serial that isn't finished yet)

@afyerarchive

@holfelderwrites124

@fenmere

(i know there are more of you but i'm trying to think of people i'm pretty confident have active projects. if you have one also just get in on this you are tagged too! tag you're it!!)

[starfirewildheart]

Scars and Souvenirs 

Chapter 11

Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.

Pairing: Sy / OFC

Word count: 2,869

Rating: mentions of war; being a POW, death and animal abuse. Nothing graphic I promise but if the fic continues (if y'all like it) I'll add warnings for each chapter. All mistakes are mine, sorry.

Scars and Souvenirs 

Chapter 11

(It's still the start to mid December and not Christmas yet.  I apologize but rl took over and I didn't have time to write  Sy and Debbie's holidays! Thanks for being patient and I hope you're still reading!)

Debbie was flitting around the kitchen baking cookies and preparing to make candies. Today was the day! Mike was coming to stay with them today. The judge decided that while the investigation of Mike's father was underway that Mike should be housed somewhere else and since Deb and Sy were going to put him to work on the ranch they would also take temporary guardianship of him. Just as she was taking a tray of cookies out of the oven and placing the pan on a cooling rack she heard them come. She nervously wiped her hands on a dish towel.

“Smells amazing in here sugar.” Sy gave her a kiss and wrapped an arm around her waist. He reached over and snatched a still hot cookie off the pan and took a bite.”Mmmmm, perfect!” He licked his lips. 

Deb swatted his arm, “they aren't finished!” She smiled over at Mike and handed him one of the cookies. “There is a damaged cookie pile for sampling,” She winked.

“ Thanks,” Mile grinned then took a bite. The sugary cookie just melted in his mouth.  It was the best cookie he'd ever had. “ It's good, thanks.” Mike was still unsure of exactly what was happening to him. No one had ever helped him  before and he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Did Sy give ya the tour of the stable and horses?”

“Yea,” he nodded. “It's sad that the animals were so abused.”

“People suck,” She nodded then paused, “most people I mean. Some people are nice.” She fidgeted for a moment and Sy laughed then leaned in and kissed her head.

“She says what she thinks,” he winked at Mike who grinned.

“So,” Deb bit her lip. “Would you like to put your stuff in your room?”

“I'm doing time. Am I not sleeping in the stable with the horses?” Mike sighed. “This is punishment,  right?”

Deb approached him and put her arm around his shoulders leading him towards his room, Sy grabbed Mike's bag as he followed. “Yes and no. This is your punishment for things that you did; however, this isn't jail.”

Mike looked around the bedroom they led him to. It was much bigger than the one at home and sparkling clean. It was plain, light grey walls, white borders, two bi windows with deep blue curtains and a matching comforter on the twin bed.

Sy and Deb leaned back against the dresser. “ There are rules here that will be followed or the court will take you straight to juvi,” Sy explained as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“We get up early. We work hard all day no matter what the weather. It's hard, it's smelly but it's rewarding. We want to make the rules clear,  no surprises and be open and up front about our expectations,” Sy explained. 

Mike braced himself for what was coming. This was going to suck and he knew it. Things never worked out well for him. At least he would know what was expected of him and not be set up for failure just guessing at what they would want. “Ok.”

“Rule number one,” Deb said, “Know that you are safe here and you can talk to us about anything. “

“Rule number two,” Sy continued, “If you need anything,  tell us. We are not here to hurt you.”

Mike shifted uncomfortably and chewed on his lip. What was this? What were they trying to do? He crossed his arms and just listened. 

“Rule three,” Deb added “We expect you to do what we ask. It's hard work but you will always be safe. We will teach you everything we want you to do.”

“Rule four,” Sy said, “You will not leave the farm without us and we need to know where you are at all times.”

“Rule five,” Deb continued, “You keep all your meetings with the case worker and we join you at those meetings because right now we are actively your guardians.” She pushed away from the dresser and moved toward the door. “These aren't rules but,” She looked at Sy nervously.  “I know the room is plain because I'd like you to make it your own. Decorate it, put up posters, we can even go shopping and get you lamps and bedding you like. We are going to be working on cookies and candy most of the night and we would love it if you would join us.” She put her hand on his shoulder for a moment before going back to the kitchen.

“Take the time you need to settle, put your stuff away and acclimate to your surroundings. When you're settled you know where we'll be,” Sy nodded and left the room.

What the fuck was happening? People weren't this kind, never to him. This had to be some sort of set up, right? Who were these people?

~~~~♡~~~~

Debbie laughed as she swatted Sy's arm. “You are gonna make yourself sick like that.”

Sy, very unapologetically, licked the spoon full of frosting again. He'd confiscated the remainder of the large mixing bowl as soon as she had separated most of it into smaller bowls for coloring. He wasted no time samplithisng a spoon of the sugary mix and his eyes rolled back as he moaned with pleasure. “Why haven't you made  before?”

She stirred gel colors into the smaller bowls. “Well between the desert, then rehab and going straight into building this ranch we never really had time to play house,” She shrugged. “Thought it was now or never.”

He frowned at her, pausing with the spoon midway between the bowl and his mouth dripping more into his beard. “Now or never?”

Mike walked into the kitchen having decided to try to make the best of this situation.  He could hate them until he found out what kind of people they were, right? “So What ca….” He paused mid sentence and blinked at Sy. The man had white, frothy stuff all in his beard around his mouth. “Rabid bear,” he thought and apparently said out loud.

Debbie laughed but the more she looked at the frosting on Sy's face the more she lost it. She had tears in her eyes and giggle snorted pointing at her perplexed boyfriend.  “Porn star,” was all she managed before erupting into another fit.

Sy arched his brow thinking she had totally lost it as he looked between her and the frosting. What she was laughing at finally hit him.  The white frosting looked like cum all over his beard. “Oh funny,” he smirked at her. Moving quick as a flash he had her arms pinned to her sides with one of his around her waist. Taking the spoon out of the bowl he smeared it on her face as she struggled to get free.

“Austin Lee Syverson don't you .. You brat!” She huffed through her giggles. 

“What? I just wanted us to match.” He acted innocent but his burgeoning erection against her ass said anything but.

She turned her head toward him, kissing his cheek, smearing more icing on him before squirming free and getting some paper towels to wipe her face. “As you can see Sy has issues behaving,” She winked at Mike, who was trying really hard not to laugh and failing.

She took the spoon outta Sy's hand again and smeared some on Mike's cheek. “Now you match, “ She beamed. “Would you like to work on baking cookies, decorating cookies or making candy?”

Mike blinked and stepped back when he got icing-ed but laughed when Sy laughed and shook his head. “I…I'm not sure I would be good at any of it. I don't want to mess anything up.”

“Like you could make more of a mess than my grown-ass toddler? It's not about being perfect or even good at it, it's about having fun! We aren't on a baking competition to be judged. If it tastes bad we'll just make you eat it all,” She smirked and hugged an arm around Mike’s shoulders. I have some more drop cookies ready to bake. You and Sy working together can get through those and some crackle cookies while I work on these and we can move on to candy together.”  She set up what they needed and gave them directions on what to do. 

Sy and Mike worked well together talking and laughing easily. Sy fell into that leadership role like he'd never left it. He was firm, informative and fair to his men in Special Forces and was made to lead and help. It made Deb all tingly watching him in control.

 

They moved through the cookies quickly, both Mike and Sy eating several and soon getting a sugar rush. They were both laughing and zooming around talking about how good the sugar cookies Deb decorated looked. 

They, mostly Debbie with assists from Sy and Mike, made two types of fudge, chocolate covered pretzels, divinity, buckeyes, and truffles.  They even made cookie and yogurt treats for Aika. Conversation was easy and they moved fluidly like they knew what the other needed and it was shocking because they were strangers to each other but it felt like they'd known each other for a lifetime.  

The trio worked through lunch though the boys were stuffing themselves with cookies and candy.

“I don't know about you fellas but I'm tired after all of that,” Deb sighed as she closed the dishwasher and started it. Cleaning up was the worst part but they got it done. “I am desperately in need of a shower but afterward how about we order some pizza and watch movies tonight?”

“Sounds perfect to me,” Sy nodded.

“Sure,” Mike nodded. “I need a shower too.”

“When we were in Iraq we had to shower outside with cold water, which you would think is good in the desert right? But not at night when it's freezing cold. So… when we designed this house we agreed we would get a tankless hot water heater which means you can shower in your bathroom while I shower in the master.”

He was impressed having never heard of it but hot water was awesome. Sometimes his old man didn't even pay the utilities so he could buy more whiskey. Something she said just dawned on him. “Wait, I have my own bathroom?”

“You didn't explore your room?” She asked. 

Sy led Mike back to his room and opened the door near the foot of the bed. “I thought it was a closet,” Mike said as he stepped inside. It wasn't huge but it was still bigger than the one at home. 

“Closet is to the left kid,” Sy pointed. “You towels and washcloths are here as well as extra toilet paper,” he pointed to the things in the linen closet. “Over here,” he opened the medicine cabinet over the sink, “There is a new toothbrush if you need it as well as toothpaste. Mouthwash is here and I wasn't sure about shaving supplies but we can pick up what you need when we head into town if you want. I put the shower gel and shampoo I use in this shower for you but we can get the type you like in town too.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“We left you to explore your room but you didn't seem to get very far?” Sy explained. 

“No,” Mike shook his head. “Why are you being so nice to me? In juvi or foster places I'm just given the basic lice scrub down a bed and enough food to survive. Here I'm being treated like a..” he was searching for the word.

“Kid? A human and not a prisoner?”

“Yea,” Mike said softly.

“When Debbie met you she saw something in you. We asked about your case and your priors and she said we needed to help you.”

“You agree or do you just always do what she tells you too?”

Sy crossed his arms over his chest. “I'll be honest, the jury is still out for me. It’s a fifty-fifty chance for me. I think there's a chance you're a punk who has his old man's disdain for the law and feels untouchable because of it  or you're just a kid who was dealt a shit life with a shit father trying to survive the best way you can. I'm willing to get to know you to find out which one you are. I'll give you my trust and respect until you give me a reason not to. You keep acting like you are now, you keep getting treated Ike this. You fuck up you get to meet Captain Syverson and we start doing this military style. You prove to me that you don't want to be here or you hurt her in any way. I'll personally deliver you back to a jail cell and let the system take over.”

Mike took a moment to process what Sy said. Part of it pissed him off. How could anyone think he was like his father? He despised that man and was ashamed that people even knew they were related but Sy really didn't know him and had no way of knowing that. It was fair for Sy to want him to prove who he was, he couldn't fault him for that. “Fair enough,” he looked Sy in the eye and nodded.

Sy grinned and patted him on the shoulder then headed to his and Debbie's bathroom.

Deb was just finishing up with her shower when she heard the bathroom door open and close. “Everything ok?”

“Yea, just showed him where stuff was and talked a bit. He had questions about why we were being good to him.”

She smiled when she felt his arms wrap around her waist as she finished rinsing her hair. “Hi,” She grinned, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Hi,” he rumbled as he nipped at her neck. 

She turned them so that he was under the spray and started washing him by scrubbing the stiff sugar out of his beard, chuckling as he moaned when she scrubbed with her nails. “Is my bear gonna start purring?”

“I don't purr, I rumble,” he insisted though his voice sounded serene.

“Mmmmhumm,” She nodded and continued to wash his body dropping to her knees to scrub his thick thighs. When she looked up at him his blue eyes were full of pure lust. His big hand cupped the back of her head as she leaned forward and pressed soft kisses along his hard shaft. Using her hand to stroke him she carefully worked his balls in her mouth knowing how much it drove him wild.

“Fuck,” he rasped as he fisted her hair. “Keep that up and this will be over quick sugar. 

She worked him with her hand as she slipped away from his balls letting them leave her mouth with a soft pop then lucked a stripe all the way up his cock. She pulled the foreskin back and licked and sucked the head then sucked him as deep into her throat as she could bobbing her head as she licked and sucked until his thighs were trembling, his moans were a litany of curses and his balls were tightening. With a wicked gleam in her eyes she soaped up her hand and reached up to cup his balls but instead rubbed across his puckered hole and slipped her finger in deep. He squeaked and clinched around her finger but before he could say anything she was pressing on his prostate causing an electrical storm of pleasure to roll through his entire body.

“Fuck Debbie, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He whined as his entire body trembled. He was caught between her hot mouth on his cock and that wicked finger touching his prostate and it was a vortex of pleasure. His entire body tinged and rolled as the orgasm ripped through him and he blew his load in her mouth pumping wave after wave of cum as she worked him through it only stopping when his moans turned to soft whines from over stimulation.  

Debbie smiled as she held him to her chest rocking him as they sat on the bench seat gently rubbing his face as he came down from his Endorphin high after washing her hand. “Hi there,” She smiled as he looked up at her with glazed eyes.

“Hi,” he leaned in to kiss her and his hand slipped between her legs. 

She gently moved his hand and kissed his pouty lips. “I want you so bad darlin but we have a kid waiting on us. Tonight? Please?”

He pressed another kiss to her lips and nodded. “I don't like this part. I want to be able to fuck you when and where ever I want to,” he growled. 

She shivered as she leaned against him. At least he still wanted her. Maybe things weren't as bad as she'd thought.

Tag List

@shellyshellshell

@enchantedbytomandhenry

@mrsevans90

@summersong69

@mollymal

@warriormirkwood

@bloodyinspiredme

@kneelforloki

[ctimenefic]

i simply have to ask about 'twin high maintenance machines' because that combination of ships is delicious, and i think about it far too often. the dynamics, the narratives!

@disarmd

from this game

So, okay, twin high maintenance machines was my first attempt at an F1 fic where everyone is still a racing driver and not a model/fake high school student/roman emperor. And as such I wanted it to be like the great high texts of this genre, where the plot weaves effortlessly through races and canon like S-bends. Cue an infinity of research. And of course, the longer I spent researching, the further canon slipped into the rearview mirror. I started it in 2023. It has languished, untouched, for basically a year.

The genesis of it was that George offered Daniel some sympathy a blowjob during the no good very bad McLaren departure in 2022, which becomes a kind of FWB thing for the rest of the season into the start of 2023, culminating in the Ibiza pic. Featuring Daniel teaching George how to treat his curls! Terrible giggly sex after someone (not Daniel) tried to get George to call him daddy! Alex making a powerpoint to figure out exactly when George had the temerity to fall in love with someone else!

And ultimately it was about the many ways of caring about and for someone.

But I was trying to spin a lot of different plates (quasi-closeted masc for masc George, deliberately undefined Daniel, not-quite-unrequited Maxiel, possibly unrequited Galex, Dax Shephard showing up for... some reason??). And it being a first attempt, I didn't actually have a great handle on all that. A lot of characters ended up having very tell not show conversations about their queerness, which I think is often a sign the author (aka, me) doesn't quite have that character in hand yet.

So yeah, rereading it now it's horribly thudding in parts. There are maybe bits that could be rescued, lines I might filch for other things, but I think I'll probably let this story lie. I've put my favourite bit below, though, because I feel a precious union rep solidarity with the George in it.

Suzuka, 2022

There are clouds hanging over the track when Daniel arrives in Japan. Literal and meta-fucking-phorical. He spends every spare moment he can grab visualising the track, turn by turn, as close to the sim version as he can get it. It’s been two years since he last drove it, and he can’t trust his memories to capture the changes. One version always slips through, rewrites what he knows about it. Turns the taste inside his mouth bitter. 

He doesn’t let himself think about it during the race. Not even in the stoppage, as the minutes drip by, each wetter than the last. Even when he hears Pierre roaring from his garage, livid uncompromising French.

Suzuka in the rain. A tractor on the track. Fuck. 

But there are points to chase, painfully close, until they aren’t. Until he’s out of the car, P11, best of the rest, soaked to the skin and shivering, shaking in his driver’s room. 

He should go out for the podium, he knows. For Max. For Charles, who’ll be remembering, same as Daniel, and may have just lost a title race into the bargain. 

Instead, however, he stands in the shitty temporary shower until the water runs ice cold and Michael’s banging the door. God bless Michael Italiano, who takes one look at him and starts easing him through cool down stretches, not a fucking word about it. They both know he can’t afford to break down in McLaren’s hospitality, not without leaving a piece of himself behind. 

He doesn’t even find out Max has definitely won the WDC until he’s through his debrief and it’s far too late to slink over to Red Bull’s makeshift Energy Zone. That makes him feel like shit too. It’s not how it should be, after a season that good, that dominant - a rained off race and half the paddock seeing a ghost in their mirrors. Winning in Abu Dhabi had been all fireworks, sure, but blisteringly close, painful to even watch. Max deserves to win in sunshine. 

Instead he trudges back to the hotel, some half-baked idea of catching up to the party like Red Bull’s prodigal son zigzagging from ‘good call’ to ‘bad’ with each step. 

Most of them are at the circuit hotel. Some of the old-timers are at the bar, Seb among them, taking down murmured suggestions in a little brown notebook. Daniel could join them, but what’s he got to say that Lewis hasn’t already, all that exhaustion he keeps tucked away for once visible on his face. Poor bugger. Daniel bets he could use a drink now. He moves past them, to the lift, and up to the door number George sent over on Thursday. 

Alex Albon answers the door. The DNF looks like it's sitting heavily on him, until he stares at Daniel and sighs, somehow even more exhausted. “Can it wait, mate? Pierre only just left, he needs a breather.”

“I, uh, I think we’re on different pages here. Possibly different books,” Daniel starts, before George’s voice floats past the door.

“Is it Daniel? It’s fine, Alex, let him in.”

Inside, George looks- well, haggard isn’t kind, but it’s true. He’s sat by the window in one of those godawful hotel cuck chairs, all rectangles of foam that do nothing to blunt the metal frame, staring down at the track below. The rain’s still pouring, but straight down, so there’s barely a drop on the glass. The moment Daniel enters, though, dodging round Albon’s glare, he pulls himself up to his full height, shoulders back and tensed.

Daniel feels like he’s walked into the middle of a firing squad, and he’s not sure if he’s meant to have the blindfold or the gun. “Are you okay?”

“Not particularly,” George says, blank-faced. “But that’s- I’m not making any excuses about this. I should’ve pressed harder, after Singapore, for clarity on recoveries in poor visibility, especially given the history here, and I’m sorry-”

“For fuck’s sake, George, it’s not your fault,” Alex interjects, more frustrated than Daniel’s ever heard him. He’s still standing inside the door, arms crossed. “Look, Daniel, he’s had it in the neck from Pierre for twenty minutes, can you go yell at Seb instead?”

“Lex, it’s fine-”

“It’s not fine, and it’s not your fault-”

“I, uh, didn’t come to yell at anyone?” Daniel offers. “Just, came to, ah-” He makes the fatal mistake of eye contact with George, watches his eyes go wide and round. “Er, find out what plans were for the evening. The WDC.”

“Shouldn’t you be asking Red Bull that?”

“I mean, more the rest of us. Sad bastards hang out, or whatever. I’m not exactly Red Bull’s favourite person.” Alex’s eyebrows fly up, like he knows a few names that would be further down the list, and shit, yeah, he’s probably right on that one. “But look, if people are giving you shit, George, I can stand outside, get started on my UFC campaign.” George gives a suspiciously wet snort at that, and Alex looks a little more friendly. 

[coopigeoncoo]

Meat Cute, Chapter 9

Chapter Links: First, Previous <- Chapter 9 ->Next

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature (rating may change)

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change, Swearing

---

In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour!

---

“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”

–--

A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!

The remaining partygoers had dispersed pretty quickly once the fighting had ceased and the participants scattered to different areas of the hotel to cool off. 

“The hour grows late, my dear,” Alastor remarked, checking the time on his pocket watch before deftly snapping the cover shut and sliding it into a pocket in his inner vest.  “Best to get you home before you turn into a pumpkin.”

“Gourd big or go home, huh?” you joke, quickly tossing back the last bit of your drink.  “Alright, we can leave.  But I'd like to thank our hostess before we set out.”

“Of course,” Alastor nodded, lifting his arm and pointing down a dimly lit corridor.  “I believe our wayward Princess went that thataway.”

“You aren't coming?”

“I'm afraid not.  Lucifer is at the door bidding our fine guests adieu,” Alastor said as he needlessly straightened his pristine bow tie. “And I would hate for that to be their final impression of our establishment.”

“Best to get out there then, so the event can end on a high note.”

“Precisely!” Alastor chortled. “How could I possibly deny our potential donors the chance to spend more time in my illustrious company?  I'm sadistic, not cruel.”

There was obviously some underlying tension between Alastor and the King of Hell that you weren't privy to, but without further context you simply said a temporary farewell to your compulsory companion and set off to find Princess Charlotte.

She wasn't very difficult to track down.

You simply followed the pitiful wails that echoed off the dark paneled walls, eventually spotting her curled up towards the bottom of a winding spiral staircase.  A large glass jar sat next to her, empty, with an obviously vandalized label reading “just the Tips” scrawled on it in two very different penmanship styles.  

“Ms. Charlie?” You say quietly, not wanting to startle and upset the poor woman more than she already was.  “Are you- will you be alright?”

“Yeah,” Charlie sniffs miserably, swallowing back a thick glob of snot before rubbing her eyes along her jacket sleeve to quickly wipe away her tears.  “I'll be okay.  I'm just- I don't know? Embarrassed, mostly.”

“About the, ah, naming debacle?”

“A bit,” she admits with a sullen shrug, staring down into the empty jar beside her.  “It's one thing to have a bunch of guys joke that they have ‘Huge loads’ they want to donate if they actually follow through on it.  But to just be laughed at for no reason?  That doesn't feel too great.”

“I see,” you murmured thoughtfully, easily coming to a decision as you opened up your small clutch and dug around inside.  “If it makes you feel any better, I had a wonderful time tonight.”

“You did? ” Charlie gasped, a tiny glimmer of joy appearing in her otherwise disheartened gaze.  

“I did.  The flowers were truly lovely and I enjoyed seeing how everyone created their own individual spaces.”

“Even Niffty's garden of insect suffering?”

“That was the most memorable part, honestly.  It'll probably feature prominently in my nightmares for the rest of my afterlife.”

Finally, you were able to solicit a laugh from the downtrodden Princess; a joyous, if not mucousy, sound.  

“I know this isn't anywhere close to the amount you were hoping for, but- well, this is all I really have,” you admit, opening up your coin purse and shaking it over the empty donation jar; trying to ignore the sour tang of humiliation when only a couple of dollars in change and a coupon for 15% off a tooth sharpening service fall out.  

“The uh- the coupon expires next week,” you mutter, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence as Charlie stared at your paltry offering; the coins rattling sadly at the bottom of the jar.  “So you should…keep that in mind, I suppose.”

"This is-”

“Not a lot, I know,” you cringed, eyes burning as you did your best to hold back shameful tears.  Ms. Rosie did a great job polishing you up, but the fact of the matter was that Charlie's life- an existence of privilege and having ; was so distant from the desperation and wanting that had been clawing at your insides for as long as you could remember.  

With your eyes closed, not wanting to face the full extent of her pity; you had no way of anticipating the crushing force of Charlie's hug as she flung herself at you. 

“No,” Charlie whispered fiercely into your shoulder. “It's more than enough.  It's everything.”

If Alastor noticed the puffy skin around your eyes he was polite enough to not mention it or simply didn't care.  Either way, the stroll back to Cannibal Town arm-in-arm with him was a pleasant way to end the evening.  The humidity of the day had died down enough where it no longer felt like you were drinking the air, and the terrified screams of unlucky sinners were distant enough that they faded into the background of whatever moody jazz tune Alastor had selected to play as you strolled.  

The blood wine had dispersed quickly from your empty belly, muddling your thoughts and filling you with a reckless sort of bravery.

“Alastor, Sir?” You say quickly, not giving yourself the opportunity to back down.  “May we speak candidly?”

“Can-did, you say? That's something we certainly can-do, ” Alastor jested, the ambient music lowering slightly in volume to allow for an easier flow of conversation.  

Being the focus of Alastor's attention was always a stressful sort of experience; like having the full force of a spotlight turned onto you.  

“I'm just, well, a bit curious, ” you manage to stammer out.  “About your intentions.”

“My intentions? ” Alastor echoed with an uncomprehending blink.  

“I know that you…don't really care for me. Not in the way you want others to believe, anyway,” you quietly admit.  

“True,” Alastor readily agrees.  The fact that his rejection came so swiftly, as though you weren't even worthy of a passing moment of consideration, ached in a way you hadn't ever felt before.  It was like a spindle tightening in your gut, spooling you inwards, making you feel even smaller and more insignificant than you normally did.  

Swallowing thickly, you press on; determined to find some crumb of meaning in your pain.   

“So I suppose my question is why?  Why carry out this facade?  Why choose me to assist you with it?”

Alastor was slow to respond, not out of need to compose his answer, but out of an irrepressible need to draw out the theatricality of every possible moment.  

“Recently, I have found myself saddled with what one might call a bit of an unwanted reputation,” Alastor admitted with a weary sigh.  “I wouldn't usually bother with such trifling matters, but it's becoming an increasingly burdensome issue.”

“I'm still not entirely sure how I factor into all of this.”

“More often than not, the simplest solution to a problem is best.  And you, my dear, have proven yourself to be quite simple.”

“Gee, thanks,” you bristled, doing your best to tamp down your irritation at his backhanded compliment.  

“Quite welcome,” Alastor said cheerily, tucking his cane into the crook of his arm so he could pat the top of your hands, both wrapped snugly around his forearm, firmly.  

You hadn't been aware that a touch could feel condescending until this precise moment in time.    

“So, I'm accompanying you for what purpose, exactly?  To improve your image?”

Alastor's nose crinkled in distaste, tongue tsking at you in reprimand.  “I assure you there is nothing about my person that you could possibly improve upon.”

“Of course.  How silly of me to imply otherwise,” you respond placatingly, patting his hand just as he had yours moments before.  Based on the nearly imperceptible ticking of his eyebrow, Alastor found the gesture just as infuriating as you did.  

Good.  

“As for why I chose you, well, think of it this way; why should a fox bother hunting when the chicken coop's unlocked?”

You weren't sure what you hated more, the idea that Alastor viewed you with a chicken happily waiting to be slaughtered or the fact that his comparison fit so well. 

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