#this is the easiest what I could put it and I still think it’s not enough

[deus-ex-mona]

[harapeveco]

heyy so ive loved eves songs for a while now and i really wanna delve into their lore. so far ive seen the names of the characters from his mvs, but is there a story? what are the characters like? im so curious and i would love to know where to start reading into it. thank you!! c:

Oof well gotta be honest with you bestie that is a very difficult question…the simpler answer to that is yes and no

The more complicated answer is it depends on how you see those MVs, everything it’s pretty much up to your interpretation. There are some MVs however that are connected to each other to some extent, those being Nonsense Bungaku, Dramaturgy, Outsider and Last Dance all of these make a reference to the characters that appear in each one so most fans agree they are part of the same story. There are two other MVs that are undoubtedly related, these being Inochi no Tabekata and Fight Song, the second one being a sequel to the first. Another interesting case is the one of Tokyo Ghetto that also has cameos of characters from the aforementioned songs and its main character appearing on Inochi no Tabekata several times, which makes everyone believe they are connected…as far as a “story” goes related to his MVs that’s the most I can give you

As of lore there’s a bit of it. You probably have noticed how in every MV there’s a human and a creature/monster like thing with said human. Those creatures are called Zingai and they can be described as the physical manifestation of a person’s heart (if you’ve ever played a Persona game it’s literally the same thing). Usually Zingai are friendly with their human and pretty much do whatever their human wants them to do but there are times where they become unstable and attack their humans. Good examples of this are the end of Dramaturgy and Tokyo Ghetto

There’s more I could explain ofc but where’s the fun of that when you can read it yourself and make your own theories too! Idk if you are aware but Eve has two mangas! One of them is Kara no Kioku which is the story of a complete new character discovering what Zingai are (which explains better the whole human/zingai dynamic) and another one called Inochi no Tabekata which as you can assume follows the MVs’ protagonist and his origin story (this manga also has a light novel counterpart you can find the first two volumes translated here on tumblr). There’s a third one but it’s more of a gag type 4koma manga called Tobi to Ryuuko which is about the two characters from Fight Sing vibing together

That’s all I can say regarding this tbh. Most of the lore or story (not taking the mangas and light novel into consideration) is mostly your own interpretation. Some people like to say some MVs are canon while others aren’t bc they don’t see them fitting their idea of continuity while others (like me) like to believe every MV is related to some extent. I think that’s the best aspect of being an Eve fan, you can just put your own thoughts on it and you won’t be wrong

[dreamcast-official]

hm.

[kuiinncedes]

700 more words TT

[madlori]

My ankle journey

I am sharing this with all you good people on the dash because I am so fucking mad it took so long for me to learn it and if I can spare one (1) person the agony it will be worth it.

So for like...oh, 8 or 9 months, I've been struggling with pain/inflammation/tendinitis in my left Achilles tendon. I don't know what caused it. It just started up (welcome to middle age, this shit happens). It wasn't severe enough to be debilitating, but it was annoying and limiting. It was also intermittent, in that some days it would be very painful and other days hardly at all. The kind of shoe I was wearing affected it a lot.

Now, I have bone spurs on both heels (it's just a thing that happens as you get older sometimes). I'm also aware that heel pain is usually the result of tight calf muscles that pull and irritate the tendon. I tried stretching that calf muscle. You know the stretch, this bitch right here:

I did it all the time. I also iced the ankle after walking for awhile, hoping to avoid inflammation. Results were...unsatisfying.

I went to:

A chiropractor

A podiatrist

A physical therapist

A bodywork coach

They all gave me some variation on the "strengthen your calf muscle, stretch your calf muscle" advice. I continued doing this without results.

I was getting frustrated, and a little afraid that this was just my life now. Finally, I thought...maybe some targeted massage might help. I asked for rec on a local FB site and was pointed to a woman who specializes in therapeutic massage including cupping, etc.

I went to her a week ago.

She spent over half our first session working on my left lower leg. Within about 10 minutes of making my eyes water, she uttered the sentence I did not know I had been waiting to hear:

"Oh, it's your soleus."

Excuse me, what?

"It's your soleus that's the culprit. It's all tied up and stiff." She started digging into it and I felt literal sparks run up my leg as she released adhesions and got the muscle moving a little. When she finally put the leg down, it felt like it was on fire with all the blood rushing into it.

She said, "You'll need to stretch your soleus. It'll clear up, but it'll take a bit of time - tendons take ages to heal."

But I HAVE been stretching.

"No, you haven't. The usual straight-leg calf stretch only stretches the gastrocnemius, that's the big belly muscle in your calf. That's not your problem. That stretch doesn't stretch the soleus. Don't worry, I'll show you how to stretch it."

My mind is spinning.

So here are the muscles in question:

The gastroc (as the pros call it) just attaches down the back but the soleus runs underneath it from the knee around the side to the heel. The lower part above the ankle is where it typically gets tight and forms adhesions.

To stretch it, you do the same calf thing where you put your foot back and press your heel to the ground, but you have to do it with your KNEE BENT:

The bent knee keeps the gastroc from engaging. It's one of those selfish muscles (like traps) - if you give it an inch, it'll just take over and prevent other muscles from working or stretching. There are other ways to stretch the soleus but this is the easiest and you can literally do it anywhere. I've been doing it while standing and waiting for things (the elevator to come, the toast to toast). You just put the heel back and bend the knee. It's kind of like curtseying.

The minute I did this stretch, I could FEEL where it was pulling on my tendon. I knew that THIS had been the problem.

The massage therapist also told me to stop icing my heel. She said icing is for an acute injury, but a more chronic aggravation needs heat, to increase blood flow for healing. She recommended elevation with heat every day (I've been doing it in bed during "phone before bed" time).

I have been doing the soleus stretch at least half a dozen times a day for almost a week, and the ankle is at least 70% better. It is still a little tight and tender, but the improvement is significant. I think a few more weeks will have it feeling normal.

I am...blown away by this. This massage therapist was able to pinpoint an issue in only a few minutes that eluded all the other professionals I saw. I can't wait to go back to her and have her solve all my other problems, tbh.

[notquitecanon]

Keep talking // Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

Summary: Simon really likes your new sundress AND wants to hear about your day. These things can coexist

Tags: established relationship, pretty domestic, yapper wife x silent husband, sunshine x grumpy kinda??? Whatever tropes the kids are saying these days suggestive but not NSFT, dumbification if you really squint, husband Simon Riley, pg-13 at worst

—

Simon was staring at you. Intensely. Him staring wasn’t exactly a new thing, he was a silent creature by nature. He watched, he listened. Especially to you. He loved listening to you.

You’d barely noticed his intense gaze as you flitted about the kitchen of your shared home, putting away the things you’d bought while you’d been out, all the while chittering on about your day, the people you talked to, the things you’d seen, things you’d bought, things you’d almost bought, things you didn’t buy, what you had for lunch, what you were thinking for dinner… And Simon listened like always, absorbing your presence like a plant absorbs sunlight.

Anyone else would have been cowed under the weight of his stare, but not you. Not only were you used to it, you loved having his attention. Every now and then you’d offer him a sweet smile when you looked to him or press a kiss to his cheek or jaw or wherever you could reach easiest as you’d squeeze past where he was leaning against the kitchen counter, absolutely dwarfing the appliances. His face gave away nothing, it never did so you kept talking- yapping, you’d call it jokingly.

“Anyways, that’s when I told her-“

“New dress, love?”

His interruption cut you off. You set down the purse you were unpacking and looked to him as you trailed off.

“Hm?”

Simon kicked off the counter, closing the short distance. It was then you noticed that his eyes weren’t on your face or eyes or even lips, but instead tracing the line of the strap laying on your shoulder.

“‘aven’t seen that one. Is it new?” His eyes roamed to the skirt where his fingers had caught a sliver of the bow in the back, “Soft.”

You cleared your throat as you turned around to face him, “I got it a few weeks ago, since it’s getting hotter, sun dress season and all, but it might be a little much for running around town…guess you haven’t seen it though-“

You cut yourself off again when you felt the tension in the tied back slack. The snapped your eyes to Simon, realizing he hadn’t dropped the bow’s string as you turned.

“I’d remember this one, lovie.” He was still gazing at the hem line appreciatively, where the delicate pattern you loved so much revealed your thighs.

“Well, then it’s new to you.” Your voice was quieter now that you’d realized the specific intensity in his gaze. Simon grunted in response, his large calloused hands resting at your hips. You could feel the roughness and warmth through the thin summer fabric.

“You were saying?” He reminded you with a slight smirk, knowing he’d derailed your train of thought. Cheeky bastard.

“Oh, uh,” You started again, preoccupied with the little circles he was rubbing on your hips, “I told her that, well, that-“

Simon nodded along to your barely coherent dialogue, as if he was listening to a TED talk. Heat was rising up your chest and neck as the solider kept getting closer until your chests were basically flush and your legs were interlocked, your chatting was only slightly better than babbling but you continued choking through your story. Even when he’d slowly moved you backwards so that you were the one pressed against the counter. You hadn’t realized you stopped once again until his brows raised, “that all?”

“Si-“ You all but whined, sharply gasping when he suddenly and effortlessly lifted you unto the kitchen counter, the stone counter chilling the backs of your thighs. Even sat on the tall counters, you still only came up to his broad chest, “We have your friends coming later-“

“And I cleaned up the yard just like you asked, love. Wearing this dress tonight?” Simon questioned gruffly, brushing a kiss first across the top of your head and then leaning down to dust a trail of kisses down your neck.

“What? Probably- but” you stuttered, the heat of his breath making it hard to track the different tracks of conversation.

“Good, does this come in any other colors?” His questions almost fell on deaf ears as he brushed the straps off your shoulders so he could continue his path down your chest. The hands on your hips had traveled first to your knees and were slowly hiking the hemline of your dress up. He paused when you didn’t answer, cutting those sharp eyes up to yours, squeezing your thigh to get your focus back on him and not just his hands. You hummed in confusion, “colors, love?”

“Oh, uh, a couple I think,” you nodded as the squeeze to your thigh turned to a kneading moving further up, “I wanted to try one, but it was hard to decide-“

Simon was sinking to his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact, “Keep talking, love. I’m listening.”

Simon was a hard man to say no to, so you kept talking. Jumping from thought to thought as they became fewer and farther between, a hand in his hair to ground yourself as he’d offer questions from between your legs until you could no longer say anything but his name.

___

I wrote this in 20 minutes on an airplane. It’s not proofread nor is it really in character. First time writing for COD but hopefully not the last… we shall see where the hyperfixation takes me

[arolesbianism]

Now here's my struggle with the solo exclusive characters in my swap au: I wanna include them so bad, I want them to exist and be relevant (especially since it means that I could still pull out Wortox if I so choose) but on the other hand. One of them is literally a monkey. Like how do I work with that in either direction.

[exopelagic]

ice hokcey

[alyssa-the-witch]

Offerings and their Removal

Disclosure, this may not apply to everyone! Cherry pick it if that works for you, or take none at all. Just no hate or arguments in the comments!

Definition- Offering - Something given to an entity or deity to show appreciation. This can also be something done or said to show appreciation.

~~~~~Types of Offerings~~~~~

Food- In ancient tradition, specifically Greek, the first bites of food were thrown into the fire to be sent through the gods by smoke. However, this isn't an option for many people these days. Alternative methods are favored.

Fire - The old methods are still applicable if available. If one has a bon fire or fire-place/hearth, the first bite of food can still be "smoked" , per-say.

Prayer - A small prayer can be said over food before the first bite is taken. Just a simple "Entity/spirit, please accept this offering, Blessed Be" or something similar can suffice. This, for some deities like Hestia can be done at the end too. This is more convenient for a hidden practice and for those who can't afford to waste food.

Altar- If you have an altar, or ever a small bowl, they can place the first bite of food there for the deity entity too.

Objects and Trinkets- Just like us, deities/entities love little trinkets. Whether it be a few coins you find nice to a statue or an engraved candle. Whatever it my be, it can be given to an entity with a prayer and/or on an altar in their honor.

Removables - There are some things that can be placed on altar and taken off. I like to call them removables. When placed on an altar, one could say "Entity/Deity, bless this object, with your energy and blessings." let it sit for a moment or cleanse with incense. If a clothing item, accessory, or perfume, you can take it off and use/wear it. Just remember to put it back to refresh the energy and discuss before taking it off for the first time.

Actions - There are also things that one can do in offer of a deity or entity. They can be small things, like prayers, to full-on rituals.

Prayer- This is probably the easiest in my opinion. It can be a small "Hey entity/deity, I appreciate you." on the go, or reciting a hymn or a prayer by the altar. It's incredibly diverse and can meld to any practice.

Chores - This can apply more to some deities than others, but just Keeping your room and house tidy can be done in honor of a deity. Altars specifically can be cleaned or re-arranged as an offering

Art-In ancient times, arts of every kind were offered to deities ant spirits. And it can fit most anyone's style.

Music- written specifically or just a song you think reminds you of them. Drawings/Paintings- try thing that reminds you of the deity or how you see them can be drawn or painted. Others- Pottery, Dance, Crocheting or handy crafts, or even more. All can be done in offering to a deity. Specifics - If you have done research into who you're offering to, you can offer specific things. Sleep for Hypnos, Baking bread for Hestia, Rehearsing if in the arts for Dionysus, etc. Self Care- This not a lot of people think applies, however the gas most want you to be kind to your self. whether it be a bath with oils, flower petals, and all the works to just brushing your teeth at night. All would make the gods/entities very proud of you!!

~~~~~Disposal~~~~~

This is something a bit more difficult; You did the thing, you think it's time, now what do you do? A decent chunk of this section was taken from @khaire-traveler. Obviously, actions cannot be "removed" Once the action is complete, the offering is sent.

Food- khaire narrowed it into 4 options that I really like. Just remember, when on an alter, don't let it sit too long for health concerns (rotting, bugs, etc.)

Consume - After praying aver the food like I had mentioned before.

Bum - Also mentioned before, but can be done after sitting at an altar for awhile.

Bury- Food offerings. if safe for local wildlife, can be buried. "My logic in burying them (only if environmentally safe) is returning the offering to the earth in a sense." (khair-3) (Yes its MLA cited, AP capstone has rotted my brain) If that fits Your practice, it is a good option.

Dispose, - This, like everything else here, must be done with respect. Clarify with the entity/deity that you aren't doing so out of disrespect, rather because this is your preferred disposal style or your only option

Objects/Art Pieces- If you have this ability, talk to your entity/deity about it, clarify there is no disrespect in the removal, and give the deity some time to de-attach to it. Slowly, the energy will fade from the object when kept away from the altar. This doesn't need to a ritual, but can be if that's what you prefer

Thank you for reading! This is my first fore into the pagan-sphere, so if this is something a lot of people like, I'll continue! Blessed Be, Alyssa the Witch!

[steddieas-shegoes]

for @thefreakandthehair (and @vecnuthy and @wormdebut while we’re at it) because sometimes you help a baseball player through French class so they can stay on the team and then they end up on the Savannah bananas and you decide to put the fictional men into situations about it *shrugs*

Eddie was going to have to transfer out of this class. This was one of his easiest classes and it was filled with every jock on campus attempting to fill their foreign language requirement with French.

And they were all failing. And annoying. And obnoxious.

And a few of them were also hot.

But Eddie wasn’t gonna focus on that!

He was gonna finish today’s assignment and then head straight to the advising office to find another class that worked with his work schedule.

“Hey,” the guy next to him whispered as the teacher droned on about conjugating verbs. “Do you have any idea what the fuck the homework was?”

Eddie turned to glare at the person, but his face dropped when he noticed who it was.

The campus celebrity: Steve Harrington.

Couldn’t quite make it on the college baseball team, but managed to make the sort-of professional, but mostly joke team Hawkins Hooligans.

Eddie didn’t like sports, never had. He could appreciate that it took skill and whatnot, but he didn’t care much to watch it or make celebrities of people who were just really good at one very specific thing usually involving some kind of ball. But he could appreciate a joke. And this team had jokes.

Steve was actually apparently good enough to play pro, had even been scouted by the MLB his senior year of high school. One week before his professional tryout, he tore a muscle in his shoulder, had to sit for three months and had to do physical therapy for another three, and voila! No pro ball for him. No college either since he missed spring training.

But he still had skill, and he still had a father with a lot of pull in the business, even if it wasn’t quite enough to get him on the Yankees or whatever.

So he was biding his time on the Hooligans until next year when he could try out for the college team again, maybe increase his chances of a real pro career.

Eddie definitely hadn’t watched videos of him during their first few games of the season where they faced the Indy Idols and the Chicago Charades.

He definitely hadn’t gotten a weird flutter in his stomach when Steve had been the one to lip sync to Hot For Teacher while pretending his bat was a guitar.

He definitely didn’t have a crush on Steve.

“Uh. Dude?” Steve asked him again, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. It was the study guide for the first quiz. Not due until next class though,” he whispered back.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Eddie turned his attention back to the professor, not really needing to pay attention since he already knew quite a bit of French.

A tap on his shoulder made him yelp, and the entire room turned to him. He waved apologetically before turning to Steve with a murderous look.

“What?” He hissed out.

“Do you understand this?”

“Yes and you probably would too if you stopped talking to me.”

Eddie was ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to let Steve keep talking to him for as long as he wanted.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Steve huffed before sitting back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. He mumbled something else that sounded like ‘I’m just stupid’ but Eddie couldn’t be 100% sure.

“A lot of this stuff is just English spelled a little differently.” Eddie sighed. “You could almost definitely figure it out if you took some notes.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Eddie’s brows scrunched together as he glanced at Steve’s red face.

Hm. There was definitely something to unpack here.

“You can borrow mine if you want,” Eddie offered as he watched the professor switch slides on the presentation. “I don’t really need them until the final.”

“Oh!” Steve sounded genuinely surprised by his offer, like he hadn’t been basically asking for help only a moment ago. “You don’t have to do that. I mean, it wouldn’t do much good for me anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Steve had Eddie’s full attention now.

“I’m. I-“ Steve sighed. “I’m dyslexic, man. Reading’s hard for me.”

Well, fuck. Eddie felt like an asshole now.

“Oh.” Eddie looked down at his scribbled notes, cringing at the thought of someone else trying to read them, let alone someone who already struggled with reading from a printed page. “Yeah, my handwriting is shit so it’d probably be useless to you. Shit, it’s almost useless to me.”

Steve snorted, immediately covering his mouth to avoid any more noise from escaping. Eddie could see he was still smiling though. His eyes were very expressive.

“Don’t you have accommodations?” Eddie asked him.

“Nah, my dad doesn’t believe it’s a problem.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Said I just need to focus more and it’ll ‘work itself out.’”

“He sounds like he’s a lot of fun at parties.”

Steve snorted again. “Yeah, a blast.”

“So you aren’t a natural at French?”

Steve shook his head. “I’m barely a natural at English.”

“I could help you?” Eddie was an idiot. An idiot with a crush on someone who would never be interested in anything he had to offer except tutoring.

“Help me? You’d help me?” Steve seemed eager, maybe a little desperate.

Eddie kinda liked that.

“I mean, yeah. If you’re actually willing to put in the work and not expect me to just do the work for you.”

Steve smiled. God, that was a nice smile. Eddie was absolutely fucked.

“I work well with a reward system,” he smirked. “If you’re willing.”

Eddie’s eyes widened momentarily as the realization sunk in that he’d just been flirted with.

By Steve Harrington.

“Oh, I can definitely work with that.”

Steve nodded once, grinned at Eddie as he picked up his pen and ripped off a small piece of his unused notebook paper. He scribbled something down and folded it once before handing it to Eddie.

“Let me know when I need to show up, Eds.”

Eddie unfolded the paper and nearly dropped it.

Stevie H. 555-555-0086 My dorm at 7? No clothes required

When Eddie looked back up, Steve was facing the front, seemingly paying attention to the lecture.

Eddie quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and put Steve’s contact info in. He could wait until after class to send him a text. He could.

Instead, he typed out something quick to hold them both over until later.

Studying naked is my favorite thing 😉

Steve’s knee nudged against his in response.

Maybe Eddie wouldn’t take that trip to advising after all.

And if he was featured on the next TikTok for the Hawkins Hooligans, with Steve fake serenading him in the stands, nobody had to know he didn’t really like sports.

He liked Steve, though. Even when Steve actually managed to play real competitive baseball. Even when Steve managed to get a spot on the Cubs.

Especially when Steve proposed to him during a game in maybe the worst recorded French of all time.

[throneofsapphics]

infinitesimal

batboys x reader

summary: upset at your partners forgetting an important date, you run to one of your old haunts.

warnings: angst, injuries, off-screen violence

word count: 2596

a/n: based on this request!

You closed the door behind you, head tilted up to the stars to keep the tears from falling. A full arrangement coated the night sky, constellations and galaxies beyond anything you could feasibly imagine. It made you feel small, infinitesimally small and unimportant in the scheme of everything, but nothing, nothing had ever made you feel as small as the conversation you’d just had. 

Perhaps you hadn’t been together quite that long, just a few decades, perhaps they’d had a lot on their mind, but if it was important to you shouldn’t it be important to them? Maybe it wasn’t fair of you to put your problems on them like this, but with all of the emotions running through and heating your blood, fair was the last thing on your mind. 

They couldn’t figure out why you’d shown up in tears, had acted as if your emotions were a burden. 

Tears glistened at the corners of your eyes as you pushed the door open to the study, where the three of them sat looking various degrees of stressed and tense. Perhaps trouble somewhere in Illyria, that’s what it usually was these days. 

“What is it?” Rhys asked as you studied the table in front of them, snicking the door shut behind you. It wouldn’t stay closed long. 

Your mouth parted, but no words came out. You couldn't. Just the near-unbearable pressure on your chest, threatening to cave you in and suffocate you, bury you alive. 

“Why are you crying?” Cassian, you know he didn’t mean to, probably, sounded irritated. You hadn’t known you were crying. 

Azriel’s head snapped up, so did Rhys’s. A quick scan of their faces showed none of the understanding you’d hoped for, instead showed varying levels of irritation, so you did what was easiest - you left, not bothering to let the door shut gently. Soft voices, but no footsteps, followed you. 

You stormed out through the front gate. You knew how to release some energy, and how to do it in a way they would despise. A way they’d convinced you to quit because it was ‘legally dubiousl’ and ‘dangerous.’ You didn’t care right now. Later, you might look back and think you were an idiot but in this moment it seemed like nothing mattered. 

If your feelings didn’t matter to them, theirs certainly shouldn’t matter to you, but in the back of your mind ... the very back where you shoved them away, they still did. Still haunted you, mocked you, whispered make-believe insults and disparaging comments. Your mind could be a prison, and you were well aware of that. So were they. Were you just some kind of pet for them to fix up and ready to enter society? If that was the case, you'd make sure it was one of the damn hardest jobs they’d ever receive. 

Well aware you were spiraling, you did nothing to stop it and instead let that anger build and ready itself for the next few hours. The timing and date was impeccable, as if this was meant to be. Perhaps it was, and perhaps you shouldn’t have had to give up something you love for them, no matter how bad it was for you. 

-

“Giving her time to cool off feels wrong,” Cassian said. There wasn't any other way he could describe it other than it didn’t seem right and usually his gut instinct was correct. 

“I can practically still feel her anger,” Rhys reminded him. 

‘All the more reason to go after her,’ he thought, but didn’t voice aloud. Maybe he should’ve 

Azriel was pensive in a corner, looking like he’d forgotten something important, or like he was brooding. Perhaps a mixture of both. Asking him what was wrong had only gotten him a non-answer. He didn’t ask again. When Azriel wanted to tell him something, he would. You were the only one who could get away with pushing. 

“So how long do we wait?” He asked Rhys instead, who pinched the bridge of his nose. They were all on edge. Unrest in Illyria always put them in a rather sour mood. 

“A few hours or the night,” Rhys’s answer made Cassian scowl, and he saw Az’s shadows flicker from the corner of his eye, “but she may very well come back before then.” 

“She’s not a child throwing a tantrum,” Azriel said quietly. “There’s something we’re missing.” 

Yes, and it was quite obviously driving him up the wall. Cassian racked his brain for anything there could be, but only drew up blanks. 

He didn’t want to, but he’d listen to Rhys this time because when it came to you, the male was usually right, and knew the correct thing to do. He only hoped that still applied today. Otherwise ... he didn’t want to think about what could go wrong. Right now, all he needed to think about was the fucking papers in front of him. 

He’d read the reports, he always did, but he was really a male made for battlefields. You weren’t a battlefield. Lovely and soft and everything kind and good in this world, he’d move mountains to preserve the sweet spot you brought to his life, and would do near anything in return to sweeten yours. 

Before you he would, internally, mocked the doe-eyed males willing to do anything for their partners before but now ... he loved to say he understood it. 

Drifting, his thoughts were drifting. 

Cassian tapped the pen on the paper in front of him, a habit he knew irritated his brothers but he didn’t care. If it helped him focus now, he'd take their scorn. It kept him from launching into the night sky after you. Surprisingly, they didn’t say a word. 

“I don’t have a good feeling about her leaving like that,” Azriel broke the silence of the last few hours. 

Cassian’s head snapped up. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” He nearly snarled. Rhys fixed him with a look he pointedly ignored. 

Azriel’s mouth pressed into a tight line and Cassian read the apology in his eyes, one he wouldn’t voice. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t the one owed an apology. 

The next words set his heart into an irregular beat, his throat tightening, his palms sweating, and every nerve standing at ready. Adrenaline. He knew it all too well. 

“My shadows can’t find her.”

His heart jumped to his throat. 

-

You knew it was stupid to come here, but you came anyway. Still, as you stalked through the smoky space, you thought it was stupid because it would disappoint them, not necessarily because you were putting yourself in danger. 

Right now, your own life meant little to nothing to you, and no amount of positive self talk seemed capable of changing that. You’d set yourself on the small course in front of you, and you’d see it to the end. 

You didn’t take into account that others might have a bone to pick with your partners. 

With just enough energy left to leave with your dignity, you emerged from the ring bloodied and bruised but somehow a victor. With the state you were in, it didn’t quite feel like a victory. It took everything for you to keep moving. At least there was enough honor amongst this crowd you were safe enough to leave with a pocket full of jingling gold. 

You’d walked here to clear your mind, but would you have enough energy to winnow home? Fat chance you’d reach out to Rhys to get help. It was winnow or walk. 

The choice was made for you as you exited, spotting someone you weren’t particularly thrilled to see, especially not in your current state. Licking your dry lips, you tried to come up with something anything to say as piercing hazel eyes ripped right through you. 

“Hello,” you said, quite lamely. 

He didn’t reply. Fair enough. 

You shook your head, you didn’t owe him anything. If anything ... well, you wouldn’t go there now. 

“I’m going home,” you said, and stepped into the light, wincing as you realized the shadows covering your face were gone now, and he could see your injuries and embarrassment. The worst part was, this time it didn’t look worse than it was. In fact, it was probably worse than it looked. 

“I'll take you home,” he grunted, concern and anger warring for space in his features. Well, fighting to break through that neutral mask of his. Maybe you were projecting and he actually didn’t give a damn. That was more likely, you told yourself. Life taught you that if you assumed someone would hurt you it lessened the sting when they eventually did. 

“To my apartment,” you insisted, but this time you weren’t feeling too proud to turn down a hand. 

His hand landed on your shoulder, grip just tight enough, like you were some disgusting piece of trash he could hardly stand to touch. Maybe you were nothing more than that to him. The thought tore you into a thousand tiny pieces, the one movement more degrading than them forgetting the entire meaning of this day. 

You never thought one tiny gesture could break you like that, you’d never thought you’d be so weak as to let it, but you let that pain inside, let it swirl inside of you and envelop every bit, let it sting more than the physical pain you were in, more than any physical pain possibly could as shadows swirled around you, whirling you deep into his night and to where or whomever their master desired, you doubted he would actually obey your wishes. 

-

Azriel touched you so delicately because he couldn’t bear to see you in any more pain than you already were, even if it was pain of your own making. He knew the fights were ‘legal,’ although barely sanctioned and hardly tolerated, but he still wanted to find whoever your opponent was that night and rip them limb from limb. Male or female, he didn’t give a fuck. A dark beauty of his job was he treated each gender equally, in his eyes an enemy was an enemy, gender aside. 

He winnowed you directly to your shared home, having already sent word to Rhys the moment you showed yourself. He knew where you’d be, mainly because the fighting rings had clever wards to keep shadow singers out. One of a few places in Velaris that did, and they only popped up when Rhys was gone. His High Lord hadn’t bothered with them yet, but maybe it was time to ask him to do a bit of tampering. For public safety, of course. 

You shoved away from him the moment you landed. His amusement was easily hid at the effect - you stumbling back, him staying perfectly in place. He could’ve teased you, asked where your fighting skills were now, but he knew from reputation and watching that you had a mean right hook and after the words left his lips he’d probably feel inclined to let you punch him. Your next words sobered and cured any amusement lingering in his system. 

“Do you have such little respect for me?” You were genuinely affronted. His mouth pressed into a tight line, any answer he could give felt like a trap. With a scoff, you stalked - no, limped -  away and Azriel was left with the sinking realization that he should’ve said something. You were still in earshot however, hadn’t quite reached the corner. 

“I respect you.” Were three measly words really all he could manage? Speeches and platitudes were more Rhys’s forte. 

“Obviously you don’t,” you swirled around on your heel, swaying. He was there in an instant, eyes scanning you head to toe, searching for more signs of anything amiss. He’d only spotted surface injuries earlier, but it's entirely possible he missed something. Even he could admit that. 

“What’s wrong?” You tried to push him away again, but this time he held on. He wouldn’t let you go - not like this. 

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth, and shoved again. He took a few steps back. 

He wanted to bite back at you, to say ‘obviously not,’ but didn’t bother. A shadow curled around his ear, whispering your lies. Lies you knew. 

“No you’re not. Do you want me to get Madja or Rhys?” 

Something ached inside of him when you hesitated. Yesterday, he could’ve sworn you would say Rhys without hesitation. 

Turns out, they didn’t need to make the decision as a brief whoosh announced the arrival of the male in question.

Rhys observed you, his hands flexed once before he shoved them into his pockets and closed the distance. Azriel felt himself tense, especially as you stood a little straighter, stance widening like you were prepared for a fight. Having felt Rhys’s wave of emotion when he told him where you’d gone off to, you weren’t ready for this fight. Not one bit. Especially not as he heard Cassian land on the balcony. It was easy enough to set his priorities straight. 

“You need healing,” he said, well aware both of the other males could hear, and that it would bite into their anger. Worry for you would always override anger, for any of them. 

“I. Said. I’m. Fine.” 

‘Hurt’ a shadow danced around his ear, whispering, ‘bad.’ 

Bad. 

His shadows never lied. Looking closer at you, he saw the pallor of your skin, the light sheet of sweat he’d originally mistaken as being from your earlier fights. 

“You’re going to pass out,” he said as Cassian strode through the doorway. 

Your eyelashes fluttered. Rhys disappeared, reappearing behind you within the second, arms looping under yours. 

Mouth parted, words trying to form, but you couldn’t get them out. “Don’t you dare say fine,” Rhys still hissed in your ear, before hoisting you up into his arms bridal style. 

Like dogs to a bone, he and Cassian followed you both back to your shared room. 

Azriel scanned the room, eyes stopping on the side table. A glass of water. A necklace. A book, with a … portrait peeking out. 

Carefully letting a shadow mark its place, he slipped it from the papers. 

His stomach dropped. 

Two males, twins, who were obviously close relations to you. Brothers. 

You’d lost both of your brothers to a sickness that had swept through your small village. 

“Rhys,” he murmured and he straightened from where he hovered over you. Night-sky magic monitored your pulse and breathing, and he knew Rhys would be alerted at the smallest change. It wasn't the first time they’d taken care of you like this, it had just been a few decades. 

He silently handed the portrait over, Cassian crossing to take a look at it too. 

“Today was ...” Cassian trailed off. 

“The anniversary of their deaths,” Azriel finished for him. 

And they’d let you run off instead of chasing after you. Azriel crossed the room to stand next to your side, brushing his hand over the soft skin of your cheek. You looked so peaceful, despite the lack of color in your skin. He needed you to wake up, so he could tell you he was fucking sorry and that if you wanted him to he’d chase you to the end of this world and into the next one. 

Still, he couldn’t regret bringing you here instead of to your apartment. The last thing you needed right now was to be alone. 

‘Who are you to know what she needs,’ a nasty voice, not unlike those of his own biological brothers, taunted. 

Nobody. Right now, Azriel was a nobody. 

[devoutekuna]

Midnight activities

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

"Mama" poking at your side as she tried to wake you up. "Mama, mama" words repeating as Sukuna shuffled about, trying to shut her out. "Mama, I want to sleep here tonight" he absolutely hated how his daughter always wanted to be close to you, leaving no room for one on one intimacy. "No go away" pushing her hand off your sleeping body. "You go away!" Of course she had the confidence to talk back to him, swiftly getting out of bed as he knew that no servants would be awake at this time, grabbing the girl's wrist as he dragged her out of the room. "Hey!" "I'll eat you if you don't shut up" he always threatened her with that as it was the easiest way to get her to stop.

Nanami-

His daughter tried to stay awake since 7pm but she occasionally fell asleep, fortunately she woke up just in time for her father to come back from his mission, he was due back over 6 hours ago, so she was pretty upset when he was so late, and not even bringing any food for her back. "Daddy" scaring the man as he expected nobody to be awake at this time. "Hey sweetheart" dropping his stuff to twirl her around. "Did you bring anything back?" Hands placed on his shoulders to look over his body towards the bag. "Like food?" The only thing he brought was a bag of small donuts, despite how unhealthy they were it was the only thing he liked in the corner shop. Nodding her head. "You can have some donuts.

Gojo-

He was a light sleeper so it was expected that he would wake up when he heard the bedroom door open. "Papa!" The toddler holding the plushie he bought him a few weeks ago, wearing matching pyjamas to his, with a backpack on too? "Look what I found!" Pointing at the bag. Fortunately you weren't awake right now, still tucked in. Quickly glancing at you before rushing out of bed. The pair of them had a sweet addiction, taking any chance they could to stuff their face with food. "I found the secret stash!" His heart dropped as he saw the contents in the bag, normally Satoru would buy a bunch of food whilst visiting a new city and then stash them away at the top of the cupboard, where only he could reach... Somehow his son got up there and raided the whole thing, but atleast eh was nice enough to share it.

Geto-

His twins were supposed to be fast asleep in there bedroom after tucking them in, but somehow he wakes up with a girl sat on his shoulder trying to open his eyes to see if he was awake or not. "I think he's asleep" replying to her sister's question, the pair of them were trying to find the leftover cake from this morning. "I'm awake" scaring the girl as she almost fell of the sofa, fortunately he had quick enough reflexes to catch the girl, sitting up as he placed her back on the sofa. "What are you two up to?" Putting on his slippers as he stretched his muscles.

Toji-

"Ready?" Passing his baby girl a full water bottle, apparently he thought that his daughter wanted to work out with him when he saw her crawling towards the living room. Furniture moved to the side to give him more room as he sat his daughter down on a floor pillow. Disappointment overlooking his face as she dropped the bottle, letting it roll towards him. "I thought you wanted to train with me?" The poor girl didn't even know what was happening she just wanted to see her father.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Frido's Princesse II

Pernille Harder x Toddler!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Toddler!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Frido moves to Wolfsburg

The switch from Bayern to Wolfsburg wasn't the easiest decision in the world but it wasn't the hardest either.

Bayern was good, very good but Wolfsburg (apart from their league titles) had one thing they didn't have.

A happy little toddler with Eriksson features and Harder attitude.

"Well, hello, princesse," Frido coos as you come toddling over to her," Oh! Are those your toys?!"

"Girl-swan!" You say," Girl-moose!" You hold up your toys to her, shaking them around a little bit as you come closer into Frido's arms.

"Little miss was very excited to hear that you'd signed," Pernille says in amusement as you babble to Frido nonsensically," She really wants a new shirt to add to her little collection."

"Is that right?" Frido gets up from her crouched position, bouncing you on her hip," You want my new shirt, huh? Is that it?"

You giggle with every bounce, a wide smile splitting your face as Frido refuses to relinquish her hold on you.

"You know," Pernille says dryly," You're going to have to give her back at some point."

"Never!" Frido declares, holding you a little closer as your hands grab at the necklace around her neck," I never see her. She barely comes to camp with Magda. I'm starved of y/n time."

She gently wrestles the pendant from your hand when you attempt to put it in your mouth.

"You're her favourite," Pernille says as they walk," She leaves Denmark camp, comes back and remembers no one. She'd spot you from a mile away."

Frido's smile only widens and she cuddles you a bit closer. You smile too, rubbing your cheek against hers as you play with your toys.

"She knows a good player when she sees one," Frido teases, hefting you up higher on her hip as you all head out onto the pitch.

It's fairly easy to settle in at Wolfsburg.

Football is an easy thing to settle into again. It's familiar and normal and bucket loads more fun now that there's a tiny little cheerleader on the sidelines to support her.

"Looking good!" Frido cheers as you toddle over in her new Wolfsburg jersey, tugging at the collar in thought.

"Leave it alone," Pernille warns you and you huff.

"Itchy," You say and Pernille rolls her eyes.

"It's not itchy. You didn't think it was itchy yesterday."

"Itchy!" You insist, tugging at it again.

"Maybe it is itchy," Frido says, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth," She looks uncomfortable."

You bob your head up and down, parroting back your aunt's words, sounding it out. "Un-com-for-table."

Pernille is still not convinced. "Uh-huh. Well, if it's so uncomfortable what would you want to wear instead?"

A smile splits your face open. "Sweden!"

"Oh, yeah!" Frido agrees, nodding her head," Let's put her in my Sweden jersey!"

Pernille laughs, shaking her head as she kneels down to your level. "You know how I feel about those Sweden jerseys. It's Morsa's jersey or nothing."

"Frido!"

"No. We can get you a Morsa jersey from your bag if you really want Sweden but we've got so many Denmark jerseys you can choose from!"

Everyday, Pernille packs a spare bag for you.

You love wearing your football shirts but chop and change your opinions so often that you could leave the house in one and in the space of a short car ride, decide you want another.

"Frido!" You insist again, stamping your foot and Frido has to smother her laughter.

"We don't have a Frido shirt in your bag," Pernille says, hoping that will make you drop it.

She much prefers you in a Denmark jersey. She goes out of her way to buy you a new one whenever it drops but flat out refuses to do the same for Sweden unless Magda insists, often leaving it up to her girlfriend to get one for you.

Frido clears her throat, a small smile on her face.

"No," Pernille says," Don't tell me you-?"

Frido shurgs. "I think it's a crime she only has Magda's Sweden shirt."

You whip your head around excitedly. "Frido Sweden?"

"Do you want to wear my Sweden shirt?" She teases," I bought one just for you."

You look back at Pernille, tugging at the collar of your shirt. "Itchy?"

She sighs, admitting defeat finally. "Fine. Go and get Frido's Sweden jersey."

You don't take it off until the next day.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

FUTUREDAD!ANAKIN HEADCANONS 🍼

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're feeling uncomfortable with it, please do not read

🍼 Futuredad!Anakin who was so damn excited after you've announced him your pregnancy that he couldn't shut his mouth abt it for weeks

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who is obsessed how your body changes due to pregnancy. He'd definitely eye you up and down more often, stopping at your swollen breasts or round belly

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who makes sure you're all comfortable whenever you can

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who rests his head against your belly bump while you play with his curls. He'd start telling you about his day, drawing small circles on your belly before he falls asleep

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who loves to stroke/touch your belly skin-to-skin. Always, when you two are alone, would lift your shirt and run his hands over the swollen area

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who talks to the baby in womb. He'd just plant gentle kisses along with child's movements, whispering some words like.."look at you..so strong already" / "such a responsive baby..bet you're gonna have my looks and mommy's personality, hm?" / "yeah, you're gonna move more? Gonna just respond to daddy's silly talks?"

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who uses the force to calm down your baby when it's movements get uncomfortable

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who tries to keep you happy all the time;

"Ani" you whine softly, shaking his arm so he'd wake up

With a small gasp that ended his soft, quiet snores he stirred awake "what?" his voice was raspy, almost begging you to let him go back to sleep

"wanna ice cream.." you whisper a bit shyly, knowing the hour of your tempting craving

Anakin would sigh as his eyes met the light digits on electric clock standing still on his nightstand "love, it's almost 4am..just try to fall asleep, s'gonna go away.." his arm covered the half of his face

This made you frown, having a damn human being inside your body wasn't the easiest thing in the word and trying to shoot the craving out by getting sleep wasn't the most pleasant idea "c'mon Ani.." you whined again, not letting go of shaking his arm "it won't..the baby needs ice cream and sleep isn't the way out of it"

Another sigh left his mouth, this time more of a surrender, since how could he argue with a pregnant woman? He rubbed his face before pulling the blanket away from his body "alright, alright..guess I can't argue with the baby"

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who makes sure to compliment you since your body is changing and he knows how psychically overwhelming it may be

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who accidentally would drink your breast milk thinking it's a real one

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who loves how your body changes. The swell on your belly from his child, swollen breasts that he'd definitely pay more attention to whenever he can catch a glimpse of you just walking and them jingling or whenever you innocently change your clothes before him

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who can't help but make love to you (very gentle way to call it) silly while his eyes are taking in your bouncing breasts from his thrusts

"A-ani..you're gonna hurt the baby" you mewl

"Bullshit..had been reading about this all day sweetheart.." he groaned "the baby won't even know that I'm gonna fuck another one in that pretty womb" (guys I know you mostly can't get pregnant WHILE being pregnant but it just gives me ani talk vibes)

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who gets a bit concerned if he for sure didn't hurt you or the baby after sex. Would try not to leave any marks on your belly and lower body

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who helps you with basic things that started to be troubling for you. Like tying your shoes, bending down to grab things and etc

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who got concerned after he caught you going to the bathroom too many (for him) times. He'd spend most of the day educating himself about pregnancy to understand you better, to help you with other things and to just know more

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would pout, trying to put a diaper on the newborn doll. He'd look around the room at other parents that attended to antenatal class and actually frown when he tried to copy their movements but it only became a worse mess

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who educates himself about parenting. Would watch different videos and read books between his daily tasks

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would absolutely freak out when your waters broke;

"God, god, god..where is it?!" he anxiously searched for the bag with all the things already set up for birth

"Anakin!"

"Here you are" he murmured to himself, almost tripping downstairs "shit--coming sweetheart!"

"Just breathe..it's gonna be okay.." he exhaled, tapping on the steering wheel as he waited for the green light to appear

"I am breathing"

"I was saying it to myself.." he murmured, hoping you actually didn't hear that

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would argue with doctors about staying by your side during birth. He promised he'd be there and help you as much as he can and the thought of not being there was horrifying to him

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who praises you and encourages you to keep pushing. Would stroke your stuck from sweat hair out of your forehead, kissing your head, running his thumb over your knuckles

"C'mon sweetheart, you can do it.." / "you're doing so great baby, one more push and it's gonna be all over" / "you're so strong.. m'so proud of you.."

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would cry his eyes out while holding and acknowledging that he has a baby girl in his arms

"Look at you..you're so small" / "so tiny..my little girl, my little princess, my shining star"

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who's the best girl dad ever. Trying to do her hair (watched a lot of videos on how to do it just so he can make her a braid), playing with her in tea party, letting her paint his face (of course he'd be a little grumpy but never taking it out on her), DEFINITELY doing all other things like taking her on to pod races while they two eat popcorn and dish about everyone with almost the same frown

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would be unstoppable duo with his little girl; both probably hating sand, doing all mischievous things and this attitudeeeee

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who wouldn't stop at one kid with you (if you'd even want more)

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune @heartsforanakin @divineani @erosmutt @emmaloo21 @haydenlovers @haydensprettyprincess @lunalitva @catnipaddictt

(if you want to be on the tag list or removed from it then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[doestalker]

stab! | choso kamo

summary: there's a serial killer on the loose, you're invited to a halloween party, what could go wrong? spoiler: everything

ghostface!choso, smut, p in v, dub-con, little to no foreplay (sorry), dacryphilia, blood play, knife play, big dick choso, unprotected sex, a lilttle daddy kink, dirty talk, degradation,, choso puts the hot in psychotic basically.

word count: 2.7k

note: english's not my first language, sorry if there are any mistakes :) ౨ৎ this is a collab with my dear friend @nudijsmos

also on ao3

it was a really, really bad decision - going out to a halloween party when there's a serial killer out there, waiting for his new unsuspecting victim? it was a no brainer.

yet, saying no to your friends was worse than that. and that's why you agreed on attending this party in the first place.

your eyes skimmed over the news playing on your tv. a new victim of the ghostface.

ghostface.

his name was all over the news, the papers, the internet, a ghostly white screaming mask, a black cloak and the thirst for blood.

he had already killed 5 people this month, the police says that he stalks them before he goes after them, just for the thrill of the hunt.

fucking psycopath.

you turned off the tv to finish your make up in peace, only the gentle hum of a lana del rey song playing through your speaker was keeping you company inside your dorm.

you were dressed as an angel. what a cliché.

it was the easiest costume you could think of only using your clothes, a white corset, white fishnets and the tiniest white shorts that didn't even cover up half of your ass cheeks. you just had to buy the halo and the wings to match.

-

the alcohol had already started affecting you. you felt like your brain was spinning inside of your skull as you made your way into the upstairs bathroom of the fraternity hosting the party. the first thing you did upon entering was splash your face with cold water from the faucet, then you looked at your reflection.

your make up had barely smudged - thank you, waterproof make up - and your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol. what a mess, you thought.

the party wasn't so bad, but as you expected from the beginning, your friends ditched you the moment you stepped inside the house. so, there you were, alone, dressed in skimpy clothes, in a place full of drunk college students pretending not to fear the figure in black that could attack them any second. you rolled your eyes at the thought.

however, your critical thoughts about your peers were interrupted when someone entered the same bathroom where you were.

"hey, it's occupied," you said, words slurring, your tongue felt heavy on your mouth.

you looked at the intruder through the mirror's reflection. he was dressed as ghostface. you swallowed hard when you saw that white mask staring at you with his head tilted. it was clear that this was someone with a very twisted sense of humour who had dressed up as the killed from the news, even covered himself in fake blood. still, you couldn't help but feel intimidated by that ghostly figure.

"didn't you hear me? it's occupied," you said again. you were about to turn around when the figure grabbed your hair and forced you back into your original position.

you didn't know what to do, you were shocked at the audacity.

the figure shook his head.

"what? you wanna play psycho killer?" you asked with a crooked smile. maybe it was the remaining alcohol in your system, but you weren't against this roleplay.

the figure nodded.

"can i be the helpless victim?" you joked, your voice innocent and airy, looking at with your best doe eyes.

ghostface nodded again.

his hand, still holding your hair, exerted force until you were bent over the counter, your arched back lifting your half-naked ass higher, the smooth white fabric barely covering it making the masked man loose his composure.

the cold air in the room clashing with your bare skin as he got rid of the minimal clothing covering you, drawing a series of gasps from your trembling throat that sounded like music to the mysterious entity controlling you at its whim. lust filled the air, and both of your breaths were connected by the uncontrollable desire within you about what could happen next. how rough would it be, what would the next move be? despite the fear building up inside your stomach, the wet heat running down your thighs encouraged you to continue.

the tearing sound of your fishnets made you shudder, and the cold touch of his blade sent shivers down your spine. the bastard sliced your underwear. now the only thing protecting your bare pussy from his growing bulge was the fabric of his robe and his jeans. his bulge rubbed slowly against you, so slow it was torturous. the friction sending flashes of pleasure to your lower belly. you didn't want him to stop; his rhythm was lascivious enough to make the black fabric even darker with your juices.

the masked man only let out ragged breaths, although his gaze wasn't noticeable in the mirror that was reflecting the vulgar expressions on your face, inside that hood, he was savouring the obscene angle he had you on, your ass shaped like a heart from his point of view.

his gloved fingers forced their way into your mouth without warning, seeking the lubrication your saliva could provide. the combination of the black leather taste and your frothy saliva tingled your taste buds. there was a certain synchronization with the fake thrusts he made into your mouth and the friction against your cunt.

his left hand grabbed your hair and pulled hard so you could see yourself better when he caressed your pussy lips with his lubed fingers, playing with your folds, feeling how they got wetter with those sweet juices you were leaking. your mouth gaped when you felt his fingers entering your cunt so slowly it was almost cruel, making you lose the little sanity left in you. it didn't take much time until he was drilling his digits inside your gummy walls.

your whimpers were getting louder, but you were sure that the music blasting outside the bathroom was muffling the lewd sounds escaping from your mouth, so you let yourself loosen up, you were getting fingered by a stranger after all, and one dressed up as a serial killer.

the voice modifier inside his mask wasn't picking up his deep sighs, but now it was, morphing his grunts into a robotic voice. he tilted his head again, staring at your face enjoying his fingers abusing your cervix, if only you could see how his eyes darkened.

the thrusts of his fingers stopped after a few minutes, then without warning, he found his way inside you again, this time with his length. you felt your insides burn, not able to take the ridiculous size of his cock, falling apart in front of him.

"look at you, doll. who would've thought that you'd get so turned on being like this," he grunted out of breath, taking your cries as encouragement as he began the abrupt sway of his hips against your ass cheeks.

"i'm gonna show you how you're made for me, how this pussy's only made for my big fucking cock and only for my cock. you filthy little slut."

you weren't used to his moves; any trace of vanilla had disappeared the moment he exercised that cruel power over your figure. your voice was so worn out that you couldn't form a straight answer, limiting yourself to just whine and moan just like he described, like a filthy slut. he was a vulgar and obscene entity that just released your deepest and darkest desires with just the sound of his modified voice and the thrusts of his hips.

your eyelids were starting to feel heavy; you couldn't help but close your eye por a second, which earned you a hard slap on your ass-cheek that would most likely leave a mark. "don't close your eyes. look at yourself. look how much of a whore you're being to a complete stranger. what would your boyfriend say? would he like to know that a killer is filling up his girl?"

you shook your head. "no boyfriend," was the only thing you could manage to reply, your brain beginning to shut down from so much brutality and overstimulation.

"really now? then, nothing could stop me from doing this," he said, and the next thing you felt apart from his big dick inside of you, was the sharp blade on his hand piercing its way into your soft skin. the pain of his weapon cutting on the flesh of your ass mixed with the pleasure of his thrusts, melting your brain away until there was nothing left but your incoherent babbling from those emotions blending together.

his hand caressed the fresh wound before traveling to your chest, pulling down the top of your corset and staining both the fabric and your tits crimson red. the hunting knife went up to your neck and rested on your jugular, his thrusts began to speed up and you thought you could die from the way his tip was bullying your sweet spot.

a subtle bulge started to form on your lower belly, you could see through the mirror how his length reaching places no other dick had explored before.

"fuck, just look at you, you're such a mess," his groans, still robotic and modified, sounded animalistic. "i'm gonna ruin you. gonna make you cum so hard, no one other than me will fuck you this good. there's no dick out there that could abuse you like this."

your head was spinning. you were all over the place. the overstimulation and his dirty talk that sounded like a threat were bubbling up the white heat on your lower abdomen that you were oh so desperate for.

"gonna make you mine, gonna fill you up."

your body was hitting against the cold bathroom counter and your gaze showed both pleasure and fear, despite currently getting the fuck of your life, you were still uncertain of making it out alive.

you watched as his hand grabbed his mask and took off the plastic material that was keeping you from knowing who was fucking you. it wasn't enough to say he was the most attractive man you'd ever seen in your life.

straight, shoulder-length hair, tired eyes surrounded by violet shadows that revealed sleepless nights, and a striking tattoo running across his cheeks and nose bridge. his porcelain-like skin couldn't hide the rosy flush that softened his otherwise sharp and intimidating features.

his lips curled into a crooked smirk when your whines stopped upon seeing his face. "like what you see, angel?"

the deepness of his voice shook you to your core and made you weak in the knees. he didn't give you time to reply the obvious yes! your brain wanted to scream, he just grabbed your hair and pulled you into a filthy kiss, all spit and teeth and fighting tongues. you let out a tiny mewl when his teeth bit hard on your lower lip, so hard it left you with a metalic taste after he broke away from the kiss, only a thin thread of pink-ish saliva connecting your mouths.

"couldn't help myself, just want to devour those lips."

you felt like your insides were being abused by his length like you were just a toy, your belly already feeling full of him even though he was giving you lazy half-thrusts, the few moments when he decided to punish you and thrust in full made you dizzy. through the mirror, you could notice his gaze fixated on the way his cock disappeared into your warm pussy.

his hands hovered over the end of your waist, drawing invisible lines along the curves of your hips, while the most vulgar and purely depraved words were leaving those rosy, plump lips of his. you watched as his eyes rolled back into his skull whenever your pussy clenched and tightened around his cock when something he said was a little too dirty, and the way he trusted back with mouth-watering force made your eyes roll too.

you were 100% sure that the people outside the bathroom were hearing your moans now, but you couldn't help it, you were approaching your long-awaited orgasm, and you felt the white heat on your lower abdomen start to bubble up and send electricity through your nervous system. your walls were hugging his cock so tight, as if your pussy didn't want to let him go now that you were about to cum.

"fuck, look at you, you're practically swallowing me," groaned the stranger.

"'m gonna cum," you whined, furrowing your brows, focusing on getting over the edge of your climax.

he leaned over you, pressing his clothed chest to your back, he was looking into your eyes through the mirror, a wicked smirk on his face.

"yeah? gonna cum on my cock?" he mumbled into your ear, hot breath caressing your ear. when his only answer was a strangled moan, his hand grabbed you by the crown of your hair, the new angle was pushing you even more to the edge. "answer, slut, you gonna come on daddy's cock? you gonna be m'lil whore and let daddy cum inside you?"

you nodded your head, the best you could with his hard grip on your hair. "yeah, daddy, want you t'cum in me, please fill my pussy, daddy," you whimpered, almost sobbed, begging for your release.

"then cum f'me, angel."

that moment didn't take long, a couple more thrusts into you and that was it, his seed was filling you up, and at the same time, yours was coating his length, both fluids mixing inside of you, spilling out and running down your thighs. the proof of your affair staining your shorts and dripping on the floor.

then, the stranger pulled out and, without saying anything, started to zip his jeans and put on the mask again. you stopped him, not even bothering to pull up your shorts.

"what's your name?" you asked.

you didn't want to lose the opportunity of seeing him again, mind-blowing fuck or not, he was beautiful and your still-foggy mind thought he looked familiar. besides, he must go to the same college as you, given it was a frat party.

he just shook his head, a smirk still intact on his handsome face. he put on his mask and softly grabbed your face by the chin.

"ghostface."

you rolled your eyes at his joke. "well, mr. ghostface, will i ever see you again?"

his hand left your chin to travel to the loose strand of hair over your forehead, tucking it back behind your ear. "soon, angel."

and then he left, the silence after the door shut was deafening, your ears ringing and your mind spinning.

you looked at your reflection again, smudged makeup, sweaty and your hair was a mess. you turned and looked at your back through the mirror, your clothes were stained red by the fake blood he had on his cloak. your eyes traveled down to your ass, where he had cut you moments before, your cheeks were red and stained with your blood, but it looked like a superficial cut, nothing too serious.

you couldn't help but notice that he carved a 'c' on your left cheek.

-

when you finally pull yourself together and decide to leave the bathroom, the first thing you encounter is straight out of a horror movie.

a body lies on the floor, a guy slumped against the wall opposite the bathroom door, blood staining his clothes and the wall behind him. you clap a hand over your mouth, fighting the urge to vomit, unable to scream from the sheer shock.

you dash down the stairs to find your friends and alert the frat guys to call the police, but the scene in the living room is even worse.

three bodies are there. one guy and two girls. the girls are seated on the couch, almost as if the killer posed them, their blood turning the cream-colored fabric a deep crimson. the guy lies face down on the floor, his blood pooling around him.

the music continues to play, its upbeat and trendy lyrics mocking the gruesome scene.

you feel sick to your stomach, wanting to puke, cry, and scream, but you can’t. you're frozen on the last step of the stairs.

as you hear a siren in the distance and the house slowly bathes in the blue and red of police lights, your eyes lock onto a sticky note on the front door. you slowly walk over and read it.

'soon.' it said.

[cherryredcheol]

practice makes perfect

tldr: practice makes permanent a/n: could technically be read as pt. 2 to this but not really. reader referred to as "wife"

not for the first time in your life, do you find yourself grateful that you are right-handed. throughout your years with mingyu, you’ve seen him struggle with his left-handedness. you don’t think you’ve ever seen his signature not smeared in some way by his hand dragging across the wet ink. in fact, you’re pretty sure his signature will be a little smudged on the marriage license that you two will be signing following your ceremony in a few months. 

but as you sit at the kitchen table, addressing invitations with an inky gel pen your fiance could never dream of using, you’re grateful the characters are crisp and legible. moreover, you’re grateful that the pretty ring on your left hand isn’t at risk of being soiled. mingyu picked it out himself and did a great job. it was exactly what you wanted. you hadn���t taken it off since he slipped it on, bent at the knee, gazing up at you with all the love in the world in his eyes, a confession of love that rivals shakespeare tumbling off his lips. it was the easiest yes you’d ever given. 

getting used to the weight of the ring took some time. not used to having jewelry on that finger, you constantly felt the ring on your hand. it was distracting at first, but as time went on the feeling became natural and you hardly noticed. the same happened when getting used to you and mingyu’s new titles for each other. his chest puffed up when he called you his fiancee, proud and happy to show you off. the first time you introduced mingyu as your fiance to someone you blushed like a tomato and stuttered over your words. it was embarrassing to you but mingyu was endeared, proud he still could make you shy after all the time you’d spent together. the idea of calling each other husband and wife was not even something you could think about. 

thinking about mingyu’s signature got you thinking about your own. it suddenly dawned on you that you were going to need a new one. following your marriage you were going to have a new name. you’re going to have to learn to reprint your name too. the muscle memory of writing your full name would have to be relearned with his name, your family name. it would take some practice. no time like the present you assumed. pushing the invitations to the other side of the table, you pulled out a piece of scrap paper and with your pen in hand, began to retrain the muscles in your right hand. 

mingyu woke up feeling refreshed. it had been a long week and he was facing down another one but a saturday afternoon nap had really hit the spot. the apartment was quiet when he woke up and he wondered if you’d fallen asleep too. you had told him you were going to address some envelopes for the wedding but maybe you’d laid down on the couch instead. coming down the stairs, he could hear the faint scratching of a pen on paper so he followed the sound, he guessed he had been wrong in assuming you’d fallen asleep. 

stopping in the doorway of the kitchen he admired your hunched form. bent over the table writing addresses on–no, you were not writing on envelopes. you were scribbling on a piece of paper full of other, similar looking scribbles. after every scribble, you’d sit back and assess your work before leaning back down and starting the cycle over again. he watched you do this about four times before he spoke, “what are you doing, angel?”

you jumped and turned to look at him, hand to your chest, “christ, gyu. i’m going to put a bell on you or something. for someone so big you sure are quiet.”

he caught sight of the ring on your finger and it made him smile, “sorry, angel. i thought you’d heard me. but i guess you were too focused…on that…” his eyes darted pointedly to the paper you’d been writing on. 

your heart sped up, a blush colored your cheeks. you’d been so focused on practicing writing your married name you hadn’t thought how embarrassed you’d be if you were caught.

seeing your cheeks turn color, mingyu’s smile widened. “what were you doing, angel?”

“umm…” you knew you had two options here. you could try to hid this from him and save yourself the embarrassment or you could just fess up and get the teasing over with. you chose the latter. “i was practicing writing my new name.”

mingyu froze. he blinked once, twice, a third, and then,”your what?”

“my new name. you know, when we get married and i take your name, it’ll be new to me. so i’m trying to figure out what my signature should look like but i don’t like any of the ones i’ve done so far and it’ll be for the rest of my life so i want it to look good.” you word vomited at him, cheeks heating up even more than before. 

mingyu did not think he could love you any more than he already did, then he proposed. and he swore that nothing would top that. the look on your face and the way he felt, he knew it was something that would last with him forever. but now, standing in the kitchen doorway, hearing you tell him you’d been down here practicing writing your married name so you could have the perfect signature, he once again felt an overwhelming love for you that could bring him to his knees. 

“okay well, let’s keep trying then. you know what they say, ‘practice makes perfect.’”