#this is unfortunately so unbearably cute i might die

[hugheses]

jack: *yawning* you tired?

luke: I’m skating at 1

jack: are you?

luke: *nods* then we have a meeting at 2

jack: *running his hands through luke’s hair* you have a meeting at 2?

luke: apparently everyone does

jack: oh, yeah

[trulyumai]

Oh, Mr. Mosses (Series) III

Synopsis: You were fine with the job, the steps were easy enough but the secret  of the D.D.D was getting harder and harder to contain. Each night a new entity would enter the building, each with its own horrific look and intentions. Just as you debate on leaving, a new resident has entered the premises; Francis Mosses who is absolutely entranced by your being.

Will you be as smitten of him as he is of you? Only time will tell.

Taglist: @tfamidoingwithmylife @mariaflor873 @fandomfeind @greycloudsy (Let me know if you want to be added!)

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Death

Oh, Mr. Mosses III

He shook under her touch. She lightly padded her fingers across his chest, going lower until they were right above his trousers. “You're so cute, Francis.” She mumbled, fumbling her hands with his belt, moving his undergarments lower and lower. He puffed, ignoring the comment, he could feel his face getting warm again. Lowering his hands, they met the underside of her thighs, so plush, so very soft. 

“Please- ah! Please sweetheart,” He whispered, staring up at her lovingly. And although it came out as a beg, he began moving her clothes away himself, not waiting for an answer. 

“Ah, ah, ah, patience darling.” She tutted, skirting his hands back to where they once were, each on one either side of her hips.

He groaned, letting his hands reside there as the warmth in his chest got unbearable. She was gorgeous, the moonlight peaked in behind his window, falling down and mirroring her gorgeous image. She was like an old painting, sitting there staring down at him. A nymph, a goddess. 

And if it wasn't for the incessant beeping, he could have came right then and there just staring up at her. Those eyes, that slender neck, her chest-

Jolting upright he cursed. So fucking close, yet so far. With a sigh he leaned his legs over to the side of his bed. Covered in sweat he grimaced, ever since his meeting with the darling receptionist he's had these dreams, visions. He'd wake up in the same state; desperate, sweaty and needy. And oh so close to release. 

With his elbows on his knees he sighed once more while looking at the clock, just beside his bedside. The red numbers mocked him and read out 4:30AM. 

Today was going to be a long day. 

“The reports my dear, were utterly ruined I tell you! Such an incompetent assistant I have, truly.” Mr. Gauss was a loud man, too loud for the poor receptionist to handle at the moment. He spoke of his job, his reports almost every meeting they would be unfortunate to have. With a sigh she handed his papers once more, yet it went unnoticed as he rambled on about his assistant. The poor lady who had spilled coffee over his reports this morning. 

“Mr. Gauss,” She shook the ID in her hands once more, in case this time he would notice. He didn't. 

“I'll tell you, the job couldn't be easier I mean, you should know shouldn't you darling? It's just a simple desk job!” 

“Mr Gauss!” With a firm tone she pursed her lips, finally getting the older man's attention. 

“Your papers, sir.” 

“Oh how silly of me, thank you sweetheart! Listen, I'm getting a call but I'll see you soon my dear!” With a wink he was off, his attention already diverting to the phone that he pulled from his gray and black suit pocket. 

Groaning, she slouched back down on her chair. Easy, she wished it was as simple as he made it. With no screaming residents, bloody faces and hands being slammed in her direction. Just the other day a mimic cried to her, screaming she was a murderer. It begged to be let in. “I'll die out there, please you don't understand!” Its tone was racked with fear, it shook with plenty of emotion and if it wasn't covered in someone's blood, she might have thought to let it inside. It went out with a fight too, one of the guards bodies had to be dragged out, their yellow hazmat suit stained in maroon. Everytime she blinked she could see his body, crumpled up in the corner of the lobby, limbs hanging limply at their sides, mask torn.

It was getting late, and soon she could go home, take a nice bath, forget about the color red for a while. 

“Excuse me,”

“SHIT!” She jumped, not noticing the man standing just in front of the window. Holding her chest she cried out. 

“Francis, jesus christ you startled me,” 

With a light frown he reached out, letting his palm splay over the clear glass. “I'm sorry, sweetheart, are you okay?” Sweetheart? That was new, she thought, calming her chest as quickly as she could. 

“It's okay I was just- I zoned out it seems,” she smiled, it was light, a comfort to the man in front of her. 

With a small smile of his own he grabbed his forms, sliding them through the slot per usual. 

“You're early, no one wanted any milk today?” She blinked up at him, grabbing the forms while staring blatantly at the taller man. His uniform was normal, the hat laid atop his black hair and his eyes were as tired as ever. 

“You could say that,” The milkman mumbled, leaning comfortably over the counter, looking down at her as she compared the forms. 

She began reading his ID, slowly as practiced, mouthing each number as she went. 

235569-

“Hey.” Looking up she noticed how close the man got, closer than ever before. His face was practically touching the glass. 

“Hi?” She looked at him confusedly, tilting her head to the side unconsciously. 

“I'm free now. For the coffee?” 

That's right! The date, she had nearly forgotten after the day she had. It slipped her mind, she would have worn something cuter, more revealing than this old sweater she's had stuffed in her closet. It was cold today, lightly sprinkling with rain from time to time so she grabbed the next best thing to keep her warm, not even thinking she would see Francis today. 

“Oh! Um, yeah I have some back here if you'd like?” Skipping over the numbers she started comparing them.

23556941989-

BANG. 

Francis hand made contact with the glass, his pale fingers flexed as they made contact, nails digging lightly into the material.

Noticing her hesitancy he laughed. “There was a bug, didn't mean to startle you. Again.” 

Where was she again? At nine? No, perhaps the eight.

“Everything looks in order,” she mumbled, slowly glancing back up at the milkman. Smiling, she slid the papers to the side, fumbling for the keys around her pocket. 

“One moment and i'll open the door okay?” 

Francis said nothing but nodded, flexing his hands as she made her way towards the wooden door just to his left. With a click the door was open, Francis was already on the other side by the time it unlatched. Maybe he was just eager, she thought. That would be cute, no man had been eager to see her before, so the newfound feeling was exhilarating. 

Standing aside she gestured him in. My was he much taller face to face, she only came up to his shoulders, if that. He stepped in, walking just past her towards the room on the side, where the little kitchen resided. 

Closing the door she followed, humming a little tune as she grabbed coffee cups just past him. “How do you like your- oof!” Turning to talk to the man she was met with his chest, when had me moved so close? 

“I'll get that, sweetheart,” He mumbled lowly, his voice just barely above a whisper. So quite, so low. 

“Oh, um, okay” Without thinking she passed him the mugs, not even realizing she forgot to tell him her coffee preference before walking towards the door once more, to the front desk. 

“I'm gonna make sure no one needs any help, I'll be right back!”

With a hum, the man got to work on the drinks, it was only then she noticed his hands. Veiner than normal, his nails were a little longer too, had they always been so sharp? 

Turning her head she padded her way to the desk, to the forms residing on her desk. 

Francis form stared back at her, along with his ID. Dusting her fingers over the numbers she read again.

235569418995

Now the other one 

235569418895

No, she had to be mistaken. Reading it again, and again, the paper was starting to crumple with the amount of force she exerted from her fingers. 

The numbers, she noticed, the numbers, there off by one number. How did she miss it?! Biting her lip she looked back towards the kitchen. The room had gone silent, she prayed she still had time. The D.D.D had to act fast, she still could live, it couldn't be too late. Glancing back in front of her she reached out, just before her hand met with the phone she felt it. 

The pressure of someone standing behind her. 

A breath on her neck.

Light nails digging into the side of her hips. 

“Don't spoil the mood, pretty girl,” Francis sneered. 

“Our night has just begun after all.”

She couldn't help but shake, she didn't want to die, this creature whatever it was wasn't prone to showing mercy. Any kindness whatsoever. 

“Your coffee will get cold,” He teased, lightly reaching his hand up, playing with the hair around her face before displaying itself on her cheeks, tightly grabbing them until her lips protruded with the pressure. 

“Such a daft little thing,” He tutted.

“Cute, but oh, so daft.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt tears spring loose, dribbling down her cheeks until they made contact with Francis' hand. 

He laughed, a deep somber one before he craned his neck down, licking the salty liquid from her face. His slimy tongue stopped just before her eye, where she finally opened it to see him smiling at her. 

His teeth. Jesus Christ they were so sharp. All of them pointy and white, each one more jagged than the other. 

“I'm tempted to keep you, you’d be a good little listener wouldn't you?” With a mocking tone he squeezed her cheeks harder, until little red crescents were indented on her face. 

"You're so good for me, so obedient." He moaned, rubbing his other hand around her body, going lower, and lower.

“Ah-!”

“Quiet!” He seethed, glancing now to the front desk. The window. It was then she noticed, a silhouette peering over the desk. A resident waiting to be checked in. 

“Please,” She begged, more tears streamed down her soft face.

“Don't hurt me.” 

Looking back over his squinted eyes, his pupils were dilated and his mouth slightly open and set in a frown.

“What the fuck did I say-

“Hello?” A masculine voice rang out. Francis. With widened eyes she gripped the hand covering her mouth, felt the roughness of the hand and shook. 

The other Francis heaved, with anger he gripped the receptionist's face once more. Hands bloody he slid his thumb over her lips, lightly parting it and pushing the digit forward.

The taste of iron invaded her senses, wincing she tried to pull back but was only met with resistance. 

“I'll be back, sweet thing.” He promised, pulling his finger back he looked at it with wild eyes. Putting it up to his own lips before sucking them clean. 

“You be a good girl, you here?” He laughed, lightly smacking her cheek before entering the back. Towards the kitchen.

Without thought she ran to the desk, meeting the eyes of Francis, the real Francis. 

Noticing her wide eyes and bloody mouth he looked with concern, eyebrows leaving a frown mark on his face.

“Are you alright?”

She wanted comfort, wanted help. With a light shake to her fingers she took his ID, not bothering to compare the numbers. 

The rules. If she uddered anything about the mimics, the D.D.D, she would face even more backlash than she faced now. How was she supposed to bring this up to management, let alone Francis. 

Gathering her thoughts she passed the ID back through. Putting on her best face she smiled at him, though it looked more like a grimace. 

“Yes, just… A long day. You're free to pass,” With a touch of a button the elevator was left open. 

Francis eyed her once more. 

“Mmh, okay. You can call me if you need anything. I'm just a floor away.” Grabbing his ID he shifted uncomfortably. His tongue felt heavy and the words he wanted to say seemed to get stuck on the top of his mouth. With a tired gaze and small wave, the receptionist moved out of his sight and he couldn't help but feel disappointed.

Maybe he'll ask for a coffee next time.

[knichii]

OK. does anyone else feel irritated that eng dub seems to be favoured in mha? in edits, in fics, it's clear most people watched dub and idk it's been rlly grinding my gears.

okay, to get this out the way, I don't like mha's eng dub. I don't like any of them. half don't fit their characters, 75% of the time the tone lands forced and awkward, and its literally just unbearable for me to watch I'm sorry. I have this issue with a lot of anime and cartoons so this isn't solely a my hero problem, but this is definitely the most severely I've disliked a dub. and yet I cannot escape it.

one of my biggest issues is the nuance that's lost in translation. anyone with any familiarity with the Japanese language will know what I mean. list of examples:

HONORIFICS

1. iida refers to class 1-A with '-kun'

2. yaoyorozu refers to class 1-A with '-san'

3. asui refers to class 1-A with '-chan'

3. deku with '-kun' (m) & '-san' (f)

that says SO MUCH about their characters, how they view their relationships, how they view themselves,, but in dub?? all of that's lost. ESP the significance of deku still calling bkg 'kacchan'. [simplified, '-chan' is used for cute/endearing things. it stemmed from children mispronouncing '-san', and became a childish, cutesy way of calling someone, usually someone you're VERY familiar with. it implies a shocking ammount of intimacy] thru years of bullying, all the rocks and straight up non existent road of their relationship, deku STILL calls him 'kacchan', the ONLY one allowed to do so ("but kaminari--" NEENAWNEENAWNEENAW).

in eng dub it gets reduced to a mere nickname, lacking all of its weight.

another thing is bakugou sub vs dub (...)

URGGGGGGHHHH

the most recent example is when bkg says "of course you pulled it off, Icyhot." (I forgot the context tho) in sub, he says "of course you pulled it off, TODOROKI".

THATS SUCH A NICHE, SUBTLE WAY OF SHOWING HIS DEVELOPMENT THATS TOSSED STRAIGHT OUT THE WINDOW. translation (manga) also has him calling his seniors 'senpai' which is... not what he says in sub????? 'senpai' indicates respect for someone your senior,,,, which. bkg would never show. (or only in EXTREMELY rare cases, MAYBE)

there's also my peeve abt names. this may be an only me issue, but I don't like it when japanese names are written in western format (e.g Izuku Midoriya)... ("this guy cannot be fr rn" unfortunately yes I am). I don't have a reason for this, and I'm aware it's niche and irrational, but I always cringe a little when I'm reading a fic, that's SET IN JAPAN, and their names are written Given Name, Family Name. emphasis on SET IN JAPAN. THEY ARE JAPANESE. THEY ARE NOT AMERICAN.

bkg's hero name. his og one which was translated to King Explosion Murder, losing all of the wit and cleverness in the jp original. this post goes into more detail and is very cool check it out

slightly irrelevant but bkg's jp va, Okamoto Nobuhiko, like. wow. the bkdk fight? the voice cracks? the ANGUISH?? the softness in his voice when bkg was abt to die (the hallucination w all might) ??? like,, wow. the emotion is so much more raw than it's conveyed in eng

I've gotten off point. point is I WISH MORE PEOPLE APPRECIATED AND WATCHED IN JP SUB. IM SCREAMING INTO THE VOID AND MY OWN VOICE IS ECHOING BACK I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE.

(note: jjk was my first anime fandom so I'm probably spoiled. over there, sub seems to be favoured, barring a few iconic lines [ray chase lwk served as sukuna in the shibuya arc] and the fics, like 70% of the ones I read, used japanese honorifics and culture. in comparison, mha was a bit of a shock. the side of the fandom I washed up on is so... American??? maybe I'm in the wrong place idk. everything's just extremely white and slightly uncomfortable.)

this was a bit of a vent post,, obviously ik people are entitled to opinions (even if they're wrong), I js wanted tk if anyone else felt the same way

reading this back, I'm aware of how chronically online I am. yeah. still tho

[klaustozier]

owner ; chishiya

SUMMARY: Chishiya owns a company and calls the marketing manager into his office to solve some problems and now the two have to be quiet for the rest of the office not to hear them.

this is smut, be aware with what you read!

warnings: chishiya x fem!reader, daddy kink, voyeurism, ownership kink, use of workplaces in working hours for non-corporate purposes, light spanking, slapping, choking, spit kink, degradation kink, breeding kink, aftercare, Chishiya is cute after being a motherfucker <3

word count: 4.1k

english is not my first language, so i'm sorry for any mistakes.

i hope you enjoy it.

It was Monday. Chishiya had requested that you come to his office so you could have a meeting that morning. You thought it was odd, because you could see on the calendar that he was busy. Maybe the meeting got canceled and the calendar didn't update, so you just accepted it.

At nine-twenty, the woman went to the office of Shuntaro Chishiya, the owner of the company. You were the manager of the marketing department and there were some promotions they were doing. Probably Chishiya wanted to discuss how the projects of this promotion were going.

"Hello, Mr Shuntaro", you said, closing the door behind you.

"Hello, miss," he smiled. The desire to die that rose in you when he smiled at you was unbearable, Chishiya was so beautiful, "Please, come here", you approached the chairs in front of Chishiya's table and started to sit down, but you were stopped, "Take the chair and come here beside me, miss, please. I want you to look at some things with me."

Promptly, you grabbed the chair and pulled it to stand beside him, sitting down quietly, "Is something wrong, mister Shuntaro?"

"Actually, there is. I don't know if you remember Saturday", he began, without opening anything on his computer, he had his email open, but that was it. You frowned at him, you didn't know what he was talking about, but when your mind calculated what had happened on Saturday, your little eyes widened. Chishiya smirked and grabbed her face, "but I remember well…", on Saturday they had gone out to a managers' dinner with him and you couldn't just rub against the boss, nobody knew they had an affair, however that didn't stop you from flirting with Arisu, manager of the export department, "you were having so much fun of Arisu, we should just be having dinner and you were flirting…"

"Mister Shuntaro…", you tried to say, but he squeezed your face harder, making you tremble.

"You were flirting like a whore, then go home with me, suck my cock while I drive and let me fuck you in my kitchen, right?", you kept quiet and he slapped your face, making you gasp , "Right?"

"Yes, it is, daddy," you answered softly.

"Yeah…", he nodded, "And I'm fucking horny and only you can help me. Fucking bitch", he snarled.

"We're at work, daddy," you commented quietly.

"I know", he smirked, "So that means you're going to have to be quiet and unfortunately I won't be able to slap that fucking ass as much as I want, it might get attention, but this little face", he smirked and gave you another a slap, "I can have fun."

"Daddy," you whispered, not knowing what to say because the throbbing in your pussy was driving you crazy.

"I wonder if you're still calling me that it's because you want to know where my idea goes, am I wrong, sweetie?", he asked, his eyes dark.

"You are always right, daddy", you smiled adorably having your neck grabbed and he kissed you.

The kiss was desperate, without rhythm. You were pulled by the waist, being sat on Chishiya's lap, more specifically, on one of his legs, one of his big hands squeezed your ass and forced you against his thigh. A soft moan escaped your lips as you kissed him. Chishiya held your hair in one hand and watched you open your lips, he let saliva slide down his tongue to your before kissing you desperately again.

The kiss only broke when Chishiya's cell phone vibrated, calling their attention, "I have five minutes until my meeting starts", he commented.

"So you didn't cancel the meeting?", you asked, lips red and glistening from the kiss, your neck being held only gently.

"It is an important meeting", he replied as if it were obvious, "But it's online."

"And what about me?"

He smirked, "You're going to be pretty and quiet while I do my meeting."

"Doing…?"

"You know, sweetie…", you pursed your lips and watched him chuckle.

"But what if you do some shit that give away what I'm doing?"

"Are you doubting me, sweetie?", Chishiya challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"No, daddy."

"Great", the president of the company smiled and stroked your hair, "Good girl", he praised when you got up and knelt down in front of him, sitting over your legs under his desk, fitting perfectly. Chishiya unzipped his pants and called you with a finger, "Come make daddy happy."

You pulled Chishiya forward by his waist, the chair moving without difficulty, your hands going to his pants, pulling them down watching the black briefs pressed against his erection.

He sighed and ran his fingers through your delicate hair, "You can do whatever you want, but be quiet, because I have to get into the meeting, okay?"

"Yes, daddy."

Chishiya put on his headphones and took a deep breath when your tongue licked his erection still covered by his underwear, "Fucking shit", he whispered, entering the meeting, opening the microphone only to say, "Good morning, if everyone is here, you can start the meeting now."

You continued licking and kissing Chishiya's cock over his underwear, making him roll his hips and moan softly. Clearly he wasn't paying attention to the meeting, he was looking at the screen, but his head had to be out of orbit, that's what you thought at least until Chishiya spoke again.

"But these numbers were better last month, what happened?", as he said this, he brought his beautiful hand to your chin and held it in place as he lowered his underwear, "My beautiful little girl", he looked at you tilting his body to the right, grinning as you flicked your tongue out so he could smack is hard cock against it, "Suck it real good, okay?"

"Yes, daddy."

He smiled, "Good girl."

And you did as you were asked, your hand held the base of his cock taking it to your mouth and began to move his head up and down, your hand following the movements, which were facilitated with the saliva running down your lips.

Chishiya moaned from time to time, his hips moving slowly, sometimes he answered something in the meeting, extremely restrained, it seemed that nothing was happening, it didn't even look like he was with a girl under his desk, swallowing his cock.

"Thank you all, if you need any help, don't hesitate to call me. Have a great day", he said before ending the meeting. As he took off his headphones and tossed them on his desk, he sat up straighter in his chair, his head lying against the upholstery, his hand going to your hair, stroking softly, "I should fuck that mouth until you're crying for you to learn not to be a whore", he commented, "But I have other things planned", the smile he gave, made your pussy throb, "Come here, sweetie."

You let go of Chishiya's cock and stood up, straightening your clothes. The man ordered you to open your blouse and take off your pants, while you did that, he took his briefcase next to his table and opened it, taking out a silver plug with a pink jewel in the base, a lube and a vibrator, placing them on the table. He smiled adorably at the plain black panties you were wearing and your open white button up blouse.

"I want you to come in one day in a tight black knee-length skirt and black pantyhose that I can just rip off in the middle of the day so everyone will ask if you weren't wearing pantyhose before you walked into my office and having to lie", he smiled like a saint, "Now, sit at my table."

"What about those papers on the table, daddy?", you asked.

"Organize them for me", he smirked to indicate what he wanted you to do.

You smiled, turned to the table with your back to him and leaned forward, sticking your ass towards him, letting him watch the panties sink in your ass as you picked up the papers spread out on the table and put them together and banged them against the table to make them line up.

"Will I get a raise for being your secretary too?", you teased, placing the papers in the corner of the table leaving space in the center next to the computer.

"If you were my secretary people would think it was strange that I kept you here all day", he laughed, "I would let you blow me all day."

"You were going to make a scandal for this company."

Chishiya smirked, "It would be worth it", he stated, "Now be a good slut and sit on the table."

You obeyed, sitting in the center of the table, keeping your legs together. Chishiya took his hands to your knees and pushed them apart, his hands slid down your thighs until they reached your pussy, his thumb of his right hand pressed on your clit, making you sigh softly.

"I can feel that you are all wet", he whispered, "Take off those pretty panties and start masturbating for me."

"Yes, daddy", you nodded and promptly complied, causing him to smile and lean back in his chair.

Your fingers slid through your wet pussy, stroking your clit in gentle circular motions. Chishiya watched in silence, his eyes going from your pussy to your face, watching your eyes closing, moaning softly, then watching the hand that grabbed your own breast, squeezing it and pinching the nipple. His large hand wrapped around his own cock, masturbating slowly.

Your eyes remained downcast, sometimes staring into his eyes, but you watched carefully as his hand glided across his hard cock, the veins bulging, pre-come slipping through his beautiful fingers. He was so beautiful and powerful, he knew that anything he ordered you to do, you would do.

"Daddy", she whispered.

"Yes, baby girl?", he smiled, "Are you close to cum?"

"Yes, daddy, may I?"

"Okay… just know that it won't be the last time…"

Your fingers stopped their rhythm and you muttered, "Oh, fuck."

"No, no, no", he scooted over to his chair, grabbed your neck with one hand and squeezed, "did I tell you to stop?"

"I'm sorry, daddy", you whispered in a low voice.

"No excuses", he slapped your face making your whimper, "Make yourself cum for me and be quiet, I don't want people to hear you moaning like a slut."

"Fine, daddy", you nodded and went back to work.

Your fingers returned to the rhythm you liked. Chishiya's big hand was still gripping your neck, when you thought you couldn't get any more stimulation than that, the man got up and kissed you, making you moan and sway your hips. Your low moans were swallowed by him who didn't stop the movements of his tongue for a second, rubbing it against yours while still choking you.

"Daddy", you whimpered, softly as he stopped kissing you.

Your fingers moved away from yourself and the hand that held your neck caught your wrist, making you stare at the blonde man and not notice when he took the vibrator and placed it in your panties, positioning it between your still sensitive pussy, he put your panties back in place after pressing the button at the base, turning it on.

"Daddy, no", you whispered desperately.

"No?", he chuckled, "Are you sensitive, baby girl?", you nodded, whimpering, "That's how I like you to be", he smiled slyly, "So pretty."

"Daddy", you whispered.

"No, no", he scolded, "Shhh", he stroked your hair before pulling you by the arm, "Come on, my princess", you stood up, your legs shaking, forcing yourself to your feet, "I can't wait to see your cum sliding down your pretty thighs."

You watched as Chishiya took off the pretty red tie he was wearing, he winked teasingly at you, he knew you liked watching him take off his own tie, you found it attractive for some reason, and you were turned around, being leaned over the table. Chishiya took the plug and poured lube all over the toy.

"I want you all day with this here", he said, pulling your panties away enough to be able to sink the plug inside your ass, he watched for a moment, giving you a light slap on the ass, trying not to make too much noise, making you moan softly, "Did you know that it vibrates? And that I can control it with my phone?", he laughed when you moaned squeezing your own legs, trying to ease the throbbing in your pussy, "I'm going to stay here on my office, controlling that plug, knowing you're going to be holding meetings and talking to your colleagues, controlling yourself not to moan and squirm as this little toy vibrates nicely against your ass", he sighed, squeezing your ass, "I can't wait to get home and be able to fuck that little ass."

"Daddy", you whimpered, "what do you want to do now?"

Chishiya smiled and stroked your hair, "Such a good girl", he grabbed your wrists and folded your arms over your back letting them rest gently there before using his tie to tie you, "You look so beautiful when I tie you up, look at you, I don't know how I got so lucky", he chuckled as you pressed your legs together again, "It makes you horny when I compliment you, doesn't it?"

"Yes, daddy, I like to be complimented", you confessed softly, feeling his body pressing against yours, his hard cock pressed against your ass.

"Perfect for me", he whispered into your ear, making you moan softly, "You're everything daddy ever wanted, you know that?"

"Am I, daddy?", you asked softly.

He placed a gentle kiss on your neck and pulled you up, "Yes, my baby girl", he sat back in his chair, his cock still out of his pants, so beautiful and hard, "Come on, princess", you were placed gently on his lap, your legs rested on the armrest, your head lay on his shoulder, making you sigh adjusting yourself so the vibrator didn't press so hard against your delicate clitoris, but without success, "Now, you're going to sit here pretty while I answer some emails, okay?"

"Daddy", was the only thing you managed to whisper, that position tightened the toy against your pussy even more and was making you more horny.

"I should be much worse", he said, "I should leave you pushed against the window", behind his desk there was a window hidden by a long white curtain, "forcing you to stand up there for being a whore."

"But, daddy", you whispered, "am I not your baby girl?"

"Of course you are", he agreed, "But it still doesn't erase the fact that you nearly sucked Arisu in the middle of a fucking restaurant just because I couldn't pay attention to you."

"Didn't mean, daddy, I swear I wasn't trying to tease you", you promised.

"Do you think Arisu is cute?", he asked, looking at you, "Huh? Do you think he's hot? Would you like him to fuck you?"

You knew that if it was any other time and that question was asked, you could answer "yes" and likely Chishiya would laugh and nod jovially, but since they were in that situation and everything was purposefully articulated to make them aroused, there was only one way this conversation could lead to.

"Yes, daddy", she replied.

"Oh yeah?", he asked, smirking.

"Yes, daddy, I think he's so hot."

The man grinned and slapped you across the face, "Fucking bitch, shut the fuck up, I have to answer important emails."

"Arisu would never treat me like that", she teased.

Chishiya laughed again and slapped you across the face, grabbing your neck before continuing, "Shut the fuck up, fucking slut."

"Sorry, daddy", you whispered.

"Now, be quiet, I have to work", you nodded and had your mouth covered as you moaned in surprise when Chishiya pressed the button at the base of the vibrator one more time, still hidden by her panties and increased the vibration, "Shhh", he whispered. You purred laying your head against his shoulder, Chishiya's arms wrapped around you and he started writing on his computer, "I just want you to know", he whispered placing a kiss on the top of your head, "that if Arisu had the opportunity, he would destroy you", he explained, "he would treat you like the whore you are. He would leave you limping like me, but he wouldn't be nice like me and let you come, you would leave your pussy so sensitive that your wouldn't even be able to sit up straight", he paused for a second, stopping writing as well, "Maybe I should do that too."

"Daddy", you whispered, your hips moving smoothly.

"Okay, baby girl, I'll do it another day", he assured, "Today I'll be good and make you come again and again and again."

You moaned softly, burying your face in his neck, receiving a kiss on the forehead as he went back to analyzing his emails, responding calmly, smiling adorably as you controlled yourself to moan. Your little feet still in the white socks moved, when the toes curled, Chishiya knew what was going to happen so he stopped writing and looked at you, so he could watch you cum.

"Chishiya…", you moaned softly, "Daddy…"

And for the second time that day, you came. Your legs were held tightly together, causing you to squirm and strain your arms against the tie on your wrists, "Fuck, you're so hot", your breasts were delicately covered by the button-down blouse, your lips were reddened and you squirmed in despair, unable to take the vibration in your sensitive pussy anymore. Chishiya let go of your legs and turned off the toy making you sigh in relief before being kissed.

Chishiya caressed your face gently before pulling your hair so he could deepen the kiss even more. You just panted and moaned against his lips. His tongue slid across yours, and as if on command, you parted your lips in anticipation, making him chuckle before letting saliva slide down his tongue to yours.

"Naughty girl", he purred, "Now, do you prefer that I fuck you lying on my table or do you want to fuck yourself on my cock while I sit on the sofa over there?"

"I don't think I have the strength in my legs to fuck myself on your cock, daddy", you answered truthfully, making him chuckle.

"I've never seen a more lazy slut", he stated, "I remember your birthday I made you cum more times and you still wanted to ride on my cock, why are you lazy today?"

"Because my fucking boss make me wake up at half past five in the morning", you replied simply.

Chishiya chuckled, "I don't remember you complaining about that when you were eating the breakfast I made you."

"The panna cotta was very good, daddy", you commented quietly.

Shuntaro pecked you on the cheek, "Cute."

"Idiot."

"You're playing with fire, little slut, we're at work."

"You called me here because you can't keep your cock in your pants."

He grabbed you around the waist and lifted you, forcing you against the table, one of his hands tightened around your waist and the other slapped your ass, his body pressing against yours, whispering in your ear, "I know you're doing it on purpose just to piss me off so I can fuck you hard… just know, it's working", he bit down on your earlobe making you moan softly, "You'll be sorry when I get home and I spank that little ass for being a slut."

Chishiya's large hand squeezed your ass and gently shook it, making you moan as you felt the plug tightening inside you, "Daddy, make me be sorry."

He laughed, "I will, my baby girl", one of Chishiya's hands took the vibrator and the other lowered her panties. He brought the dildo to your lips and, after smirking when you started licking the toy, started licking it as well. Your tongues rubbed together as they roamed the toy causing you to moan softly every time, "It tastes wonderfully, princess", he praised, "Before we go to my place, I'm going to put you in the back seat of my car and eat that pussy out so I can calm down after this stressful day at work and drive more calmly."

You chuckled, "What a stressful day you've been having, huh, daddy?"

"Very much", he agreed, straightening his posture, "I'm going to spend the day knowing that this little ass will be getting ready for me to fuck when I get home… imagine the stress I'm going through."

You laughed and were about to say something, but your words disappeared from your lips when Chishiya's cock tip slipped through your wet pussy, "Daddy…", you whispered.

"Fuck", he purred, "So… wet…"

And as he said that, he sank his cock into your pussy, going slowly, inch by inch, watching it be swallowed. The embellishment at the base of the plug shimmered against the light, making it even more adorable. When he was all inside you, he moaned softly, his hands going to your waist and squeezing initiating calm movements.

You moaned softly, your tits pressed against the table as your pussy began to be pounded, "More", you whispered, very softly.

"Sure, sweetie."

Chishiya started to increase the rhythm of his thrusts, as he was still dressed, the sounds were muffled, it wasn't as pleasant as hearing your moaning over the sounds of skin hitting skin, however they couldn't make that much noise.

You tried to hold on as best you could, when you were having fun alone you were extremely silent, but Chishiya managed to make you lose track of things. You just noticed that you were starting to moan very loudly when Chishiya pulled your body, making your back stick to his chest, and his big hand covered your mouth.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch", he snarled, his hips continuing ceaseless work.

"Daddy", you whispered, your voice muffled by his hand.

"Fuck, you look hot like that", he grinned.

Your head lay against his shoulder, your mouth being cupped, your pussy being fucked without any mercy. You could feel your own pleasure sliding down your thighs.

"Fuck", he cursed, "I'm going to cum… Can I fill you up, baby?", he asked and smiled when you nodded, "You're going to spend all day dripping, all uncomfortable, trying to work with cum in your pussy and a plug in your little ass," he grinned, "Fucking slut."

Chishiya's free hand went down your belly to your pussy and began to caress your clit. The hand that was over your mouth let go just so he could kiss you. Your pussy pulsed around his hard cock, their tongues tangling as they moaned against each other's mouths.

As soon as you felt the cum filling you, you came, your beautiful body shaking, not even able to stand up after coming for the third time.

Chishiya held you by the waist, trying to keep you in place, getting out of you, arranging his clothes before placing you in his chair, you threw your head against the soft chair, your chest rising and falling with uncontrollable strength as you tried to recover from the orgasm.

You purred softly as Chishiya helped you get dressed again. As he replaced your pants and zipped them, you watched him kneel on the floor and put on your sneakers and tie the laces so that he could finally button up your blouse.

He continued to kneel, smiling as he stroked your hair, "Do you want water, princess?" he asked.

"Please daddy", you nodded.

Chishiya smiled, as he got up and walked over to the small water filter on a small table next to the sofa, grabbed a plastic cup and filled it with water. Upon returning to you, he took you in his arms, sitting on the chair and placing you on his lap giving you water.

"Thank you, Chishiya", you thanked him quietly while drinking water, your head lying on his shoulder, while your hair was stroked and you received a kiss on the forehead.

"Are you all right?", he asked, "Want to stay here for a while?"

"Just one more minute", you replied.

"Cute", he smiled, giving her a peck.

You spent a few more minutes on Chishiya's lap, after calming down and feeling like you were going to sleep right there and you shouldn't, you got up and tried to walk pretending to be completely fine making him laugh. You smiled, showing the middle finger before leaving. Chishiya sighed, still with a little smile on his face, went back to work.

Not ten minutes later he received a message on his cell phone, it was from you. When he opened it, it was a little video. You filmed yourself opening your blouse and showing your breasts in the company bathroom and had the courage to write "I already miss you". Chishiya laughed, you were so fucked up when you got home.

...

i hope you liked it

please leave a like and a comment!

(´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

♡masterlist♡

[where-theres-smoak-2]

The difference between Malina in the book version and the series is striking. In the book, they annoy me. They are toxic to each other from a strength. And Mal, in addition to being the least interesting character, and just plain boring, is a walking red flag in relational terms. Which makes him unbearable. Especially because he takes up too much space in the story and in Alina's head too... In the series, Mal is very much like a human being! Sometimes I even want to give him a big hug. But he's still a pretty boring character because he's only defined by Alina. Being a good person in fiction is not enough. You must have a real personality. But the Malina relationship for me is above all family. They're each other's family, and I can't see them growing into a great love story.

I agree with all of this. When it comes to ships I tend to react in a few ways, either I love them and they are my do or die like darklina for example, I think they are cute but I am not quite at the obsessed level like david and genya or I am indifferent to them, don't really care find them a bit boring, like show m*lina. It is very rare that I will hate a ship to the point of not being able to stand them, but book M*lina did that to me. I think it might actually be the first fictional relationship that I can say I hated. It was just so toxic but not in an interesting way it was just way too real, M*l often emotionally manipulated Alina, even going so far as cheating on her, he often made her feel inadequate and self conscious and the two of them just weren't compatible at all and I spent the whole book series just waiting for them to realise they didn't work and break up with each other, something that never happens. They were a large part of what made reading the books so unenjoyable for me.

When it comes to the show I do think M*l is a much more likeable character but unfortunately he is bland as they've wrapped up too much of his character into Alina and how his character relates to Alina he doesn't really get any story lines of his own. As you said being a good person isn't enough in fiction there needs to be more to his personality. I've used this comparison before but take Peeta Mellark from the Hunger Games for example, he is your typical nice/good guy, he is someone who has always been in love with Katniss and she has alot to do with what drives his character's motivation, but his character isn't solely wrapped up in Katniss, we learn more about him outside of her and he has his own story that is separate from her. I am really hoping that when it comes to M*l's character in the show they do develop and branch his character out more in season 3.

[fuwushiguro]

Burning Flame Full of Desire

Day Nine: Flashing + Face Painting | 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader Genre: Smut Notes: I kinda... rly gotta write more of this sexy mf after kinktober 😋😈 Warnings: 18+, dubcon, noncon, misogyny, physical violence, flashing, degradation, praise, cumplay?? public humiliation, exhbitionism i think. Words: 1.8k

As much as you adored Yuuji, you couldn’t stand doing missions with him. As a teacher you were expected to take students under your wing and help them gain experience. Today, the students you were giving a hands-on education to were Yuuji and Megumi. Megumi is fine. He’s just quiet and moody, but he minds his business and keeps to himself. He’s incredibly powerful and you know how hard he works to be the best he can be. He usually works with Gojo, but today he has the pleasure of your company. Yuuji, being nothing but a vessel, is a little out of his depth. You think he’s adorable and always does what he can, making the best use of his raw strength, but it’s Sukuna that makes your missions together unbearable. He can’t apologise enough when the curse within him steps out of line. Yuuji can’t help it, it’s not his fault – and you make sure to tell him that. It would seem that the king of curses is touch starved and craving female attention. The lewd sentences that spill from his lips with no hesitation make your skin crawl.

You’d been sparring with a particularly difficult curse with your two students for what felt like a lifetime. Even with three of you, it seemed like you were getting nowhere. You couldn’t stand it; because you knew Gojo would have something to say about your utter incompetence when you returned to Jujutsu Tech. He and Nanami never fail to make you feel small and ashamed of your skill whenever you mess up – which unfortunately for you is more often than you’d care to admit.

You take a risk. You think it’s better that you die, and your students escape with their lives, rather than all three of you continue to fight and waste all of your energy. Adrenaline surges through you as you rush towards the curse. It overpowers you easily, knocking you back so far you feel like you’ve been transported to another dimension. The crown of your head cracks against a large piece of rocky debris, everything turns black.

“Sensei!” Fushiguro exclaims as he turns to face you. Out of the corner of his eye, a blur rushes by him faster than he can process. He pivots his body when he realises Yuuji has sprinted towards the curse too. He turns fully to see what his friend is doing, when he realises. “Don’t use him, Itadori!” but it’s too late. Yuuji had no say in the matter when Sukuna took over. It would be endearing if Sukuna wasn’t such a creep. It was like he was defending your honour.

In one effortless strike, Sukuna had defeated the curse with ease. Megumi’s whole body tensed up, he was on high alert. But he knows from past experience he’s no match for the curse. He began to protect himself with cursed energy, but one particularly harsh strike to his neck from Sukuna had knocked him out cold.

The curse approaches you slowly. Studying your unconscious form like it was a Michelangelo painting. You are so perfect to him. He thinks you’d be shocked if he knew how often he thinks of you whilst Yuuji supresses him away. He has an opportunity to have his way with you now, Itadori is trying with all his might but he’s failing to regain control of Sukuna.

He’s going to have fun today.

The curse smiles when he finally sees your eyelids begin to flutter. You’re finally waking up. You smile back cutely when your eyes open and you see Yuuji hovering above you. But then your heart twinges and you feel it sink into your lower stomach. Your hazy mind didn’t process him properly. It isn’t Yuuji. The additional pair of eyes and the unmistakable markings tell you that much. Why the hell did Itadori let Sukuna out?

You sit upright when you remember Fushiguro was with you on your mission too. Eyes quickly scanning the area inside of the veil to try and see where he is. You clamber to your feet to get a better view of your surroundings; and eventually you do see him. He’s out of it, just as you had been.

“There she is, my favourite pair of tits.” Sukuna speaks.

“Did you do that to him?” you ask him instantly, completely disregarding his piggish comment. He didn’t answer, instead, he pulled you closer to him by your wrist. He balled up his fist and struck you with a backhanded punch that knocked you straight on your ass. Your nose bled like a tap; Sukuna didn’t think you could look any cuter until he saw your nostrils dripping red.

He had nothing to be ashamed of. He’d made it very clear to you and Itadori that it had been a long time since he’d known the touch of a woman. Your eyes widened in horror as large veiny hands ventured towards his zipper.

“Stop right there, that’s enough!” you demanded. But he chuckled in response. You stood to your feet again and positioned yourself in a fighting stance. But it was embarrassing to you when he laughed raucously at your feeble attempt of seeming intimidating. But you didn’t let up. If you faltered you’d really be letting him win. He continued his actions of fumbling with the zipper of his trousers. You felt tears sting in your eyes preparing to form in your lash line. He’s disgusting, despicable.

“You really think you can beat me when you let that little guy knock you out a few minutes ago?” he teased, referring to the curse he'd just vanquished. You shuddered at that, he was right. You’re probably the worst Jujutsu sorcerer in the world. And now the lives of both of your students are in your useless hands. Finally Sukuna had achieved what he’d been working towards, pulling his cock out for you to see. You were worried he was going to force himself on you, but all he was doing was stroking himself slowly. Lazily, in fact. “Sit, like a dog. Or I’ll rip the pink-haired brats heart out again.” he informed you.

You did as you were told. You had no choice but to do as he commanded. He kept a fair distance away from you as he played with himself. It was uncomfortable to see how nonchalant he was about what he was doing.

The curse was not only the king of his species, but you were sure he’d be considered king of his impressive size. It’s truly monstrous, just like him. His trousers were lowered just enough so that you could see both his shaft and his balls – both of which were equally as notable. It was just dawning on you how much you’d blocked out since you came around. You’d only ever normally noticed Sukuna with the markings on his body and additional eyes. But now you’re looking at him. Now you’ve calmed down and you’re really looking at him, he’s displaying more of what he has to offer. This is the first time you’ve seen him debut his additional arms, four in total now. And the horrendously creepy tongue on his lower abdomen made your head spin. But still, despite all of that, you were still spellbound by his enormous, pulsing cock. The furious red tip that matched his personality. The sheer thickness of his shaft as well as the inhuman length. The beautifully placed veins that decorated his length so perfectly. Why are you thinking such sick, intricate thoughts about a curse?

“Never seen one this big before, have you sweetheart?” he questions as he picks up the pace of his strokes. You don’t answer. You aren’t even sure what to say, honestly. You’re so disorientated from the sight and the girth. Are you sick in the head? You must be, because all you can think about is how badly you want it. He smirks when he notices how you try and subtly squeeze your thighs to alleviate the tension brewing at your core. “Not such a good girl after all. What would your poor students say? What would your co-workers say?” he torments. Isn’t it good enough that he’s humiliating you like this? Of course not. That would never be enough for someone like him.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he starts to feel particularly sensitive. He thinks you’re such a bitch, because you don’t understand how wild you drive him. Perhaps it’s because you’re the first (and only) woman who’s given him any form of conversation since he let Itadori become his vessel. Regardless of your frosty attitude, you never fail to entertain him. And even under that Jujutsu uniform, he thinks you have a body to die for.

“I want to fuck your cunt.” he admits. You shake your head.

“This is degrading enough, Sukuna.” you tell him, doing your best to stand firm. He bares his teeth in an intimidating snarl. Just who do you think you’re talking to?

“I will fuck your pretty cunt. And you will love it, whore. But not today… We can arrange—”

“Not ever. Nothing will be arranged.”

The curse approached you with a sadistic grin on his face. You tried to back away, but you could only get so far without knowing where you were going. Sharp edges from the crumbling and decayed buildings stuck harshly into your flesh. Before long you stopped trying. Your body froze up as it recognised you were no match for your foe. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, commanding your attention. Your eyes found his and he stuck his tongue out teasingly – a signal of victory. He rested the tip of his cock on your swollen, pouty lips.

“Shall I make you pretty?” you knew what he meant. A vein in his forehead twinged slightly and his eyes scrunched. It was a dead giveaway. He was about to cum, and he was asking where you wanted it. “I’m gonna do it anyway…”

He manoeuvred his cock to paint thick ropes of milky white all over your humiliated face. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say you’ve never experienced this much ejaculate in your life. The curse was extremely pent up and he’d been waiting for a poor, wretched soul to be the recipient of his load. He rested two fingers beneath your chin and pushed slightly. And like an obedient little bitch, you tilted your head in the exact directions he wanted so he could inspect his handiwork.

“Good girl.”

And with that, he allowed Yuuji to reclaim his body. You couldn’t be more embarrassed as he and Megumi awoke to the reality that their teacher had been humiliated by a curse. You also had to live with the knowledge that you wouldn’t be opposed to being Sukuna’s cum slut again.

© 2021 fuwushiguro

adding tags in a reblog 🖤 tag list form in navi if you're interested!

[imnotwolverine]

Wolfie’s Fic Recs | The Grand Library of Kink 1/2

THE GRAND LIBRARY OF KINK - Allow me to give you a list of treats to quench the unbearable thirst between your thighs. 

>> Looking for part 2 of this list? <<

🖐WARNING: NSFW - SMUT below the cut 🖐

Author’s note: Let’s be honest. You probably are prowling the Tumblr grounds for the same reasons I am: there’s some darn good porn fics out here. And in the year I’ve been in the Cavillry, I’ve gathered a most wondrous collection of soft to extremely kinky fics. Time..to make a more comprehensible list of my favourites thusfar! (💦It’s long, so you better have some fresh panties at the ready💦)

In this library you’ll find:

Part 1:

Self-help 101  

Cherry Popping Goodness 

Vanilla With A Sprinkling Of Sex Toys 

Vanilla - Toybox Special 

Henry’s Hands Special

The Hook-up

Part 2:

Sensory Delights

The Triple Threat  

Fuck - The Geralt Special

Take It Like A Pussy - The Napoleon Special 

Hammer-time - The Walker Special 

Cpt. Cunnilingus - The Syverson Special

Thighs And Canes - The Sherlock Special 

Fem!DOM 

--

Self-help 101

[This one’s all about the act of self love - solo masturbation]

Toys are for boys. Unless it’s in the bedroom..right? Almost The Same by @lunedelorient  [Henry x Reader]

Mike can’t help himself as his gaze falls upon your lipstick stains on a beer bottle. Where else would he like those stains to be? Lipstick by @emyearns [Mike / reader]

A toy arrives to sweeten the lonely nights when Henry is away. There’s only one minor detail as the package is being unwrapped; she isn’t alone yet. Flying Solo by me [OFC x Henry Cavill]

I love fics written in Henry’s point of view. In this one Henry can’t take it no more. He simply needs to let off some steam; I Need A Woman by @chamomilebottom [Henry Cavill x reader]

This man gets caught..a lot, doesn’t he? You give Henry a helping hand as you catch him in the shower in Welcome Home by @rosethornsanddaisies [Henry Cavill x reader]

I wasn’t sure whether I should put this in the self-help section. So consider yourself warned: watch out..you’re in for a solo-lovin’ surprise in On Display by @ladyreapermc [August Walker x Reader]

--

Cherry Popping Goodness

[There’s a first time for each flower to bloom - loss of vaginal/anal virginity]

The bookstore meet-cute, the skipping heartbeats, and the fluster of cheeks as she just read a steamy passage of her book aloud. It’s the perfect recipe for romance...though there is one tiny, tiny... Her Minor Thing by @ladyreapermc [Henry Cavill x erotica novelist!OFC]

For one night only, gigolo August Walker will make all your fantasies come true. His specialty? Sweet, innocent little flowers. Velvet Chains by @littlefreya [August Walker x reader]

The morning after the cherry popping, a bud starts to bloom. White Honey by @littlefreya [Henry Cavill x reader]

This fic! This. Fic. I hadn’t seen I Capture The Castle when I read this fic, but it made me fall for Stephen so freakin’ hard that I kind of watched the movie straight after. It’s sweet, blushing-cheeks worthy and utterly cinematic. Bluebells by @yespolkadotkitty [Stephen x reader]

August Walker, a virgin? Well..there’s a First Time For Everything by @hope-to-hell [August Walker x reader]

Theseus didn’t mean it to go this way. But he was so thirsty - and now for more then just a drink of water. To Die of Thirst by @hope-to-hell. [Theseus x reader]

It’s Geralt’s first time and isn’t a Witcher body just a fascinating thing..hmm... Anatomy Lessons by @princess-of-riviaa [Geralt x experienced!reader] 

I didn’t know bullet point lists could be this sensual and H.O.T. - First Time w/ Henry by @henchry [Henry Cavill x reader]

GOODNESS ME. Can first times be like this for everyone, please and thank you?! My Flower gives you squirt-inducing, sweet talkin’ Henry making the most out of this special little moment. By @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

Wait till marriage with August? Highly unlikely....right? Uncharted Territory by @chamomilebottom [August Walker x reader]

Now onto some other sanctuaries to plunder. (Anal that is) Poker Night @foodieforthoughts [Syverson x OFC]

Lets @littlefreya’s words entice you into a new world as you and Henry finally pick the Forbidden Fruit (yep, anal again) [Henry Cavill x OFC]

And now we’re on the anal train, I do notice that men barely ever get any backdoor lovin’ from their partners. And I know, I know: most men are really apprehensive about it. But goodness can it be good! Sy has learned of it’s sweetness and reminisces that first time in Sy And The Sex Tape by @hope-to-hell [Syverson x reader]

--

Vanilla With A Sprinkling Of Sex Toys

[Couple’s sex with just a touch of kink] 

Let’s start with a game. Written in the language of love (French that is), this enticing bit of foreplay gets the blood streaming alright. Invisible Touch by @emelinelovesjc [Henry Cavill x reader]

Is it time for my favourite poetic foreplay fic?! YES it IS! Ode by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether just does something for me and I can simply not explain - just go ahead and read it and see for yourself! [Henry Cavill x reader] 

The key to good sex, is foreplay. And teasing during an event? You bet your  sweet ass you can get Henry riled up. Tease by @captainbigdy [Henry Cavill x reader]

Ready for some myrrh mountain-esque, super indulgent eroticism? Read Confessions by @captainbigdy [Henry Cavill x reader]

Birthday sex

What do you give a man who has it all, for his birthday? A little boudoir, a little make-out on the couch and...Happy Birthday by @rosethornsanddaisies [Henry Cavill x reader]

Apparently boudoir pictures for Henry’s birthday is on y’alls mind! A Picture’s Worth by @sunflowersstan gives you a belated birthday present - but that definitely should not spoil the fun. [Henry Cavill x reader]

Home (coming)

For once, Henry is forgiven for his ungodly early alarm clock: it’s beach time! And Kal will be there too. Home by @chamomilebottom [Henry Cavill x reader]

Henry, unfortunately, isn’t always home. In fact, he’s away quite a lot. Meaning it’s all the important to make up for lost time: Welcome Home by @geralt-of-baevia [Henry Cavill x reader]

And what’d you do if he finally comes home, but an impromptu surprise party is organised by his friends? Better Keep Quiet, baby. By @toomanystoriessolittletime [Henry Cavill x reader]

Does that come with side effects? When a 200 pound beast tackles you after coming home, you just might feel it in the next few days. Lust Worthy by @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

Home is also domestic goodness ( “Can I, baby?” He whispers against your cheek, placing a soft kiss to it, his eyes searching to meet yours. >> I mean..YES YOU CAN!! DO WHATEVER YOU MUST YOU HUNK OF A BEAR 😩) in this sweet ficseries chap by @lovelycavills: The Night [Henry Cavill x reader]

Tropes to lovers 

Friends to lovers trope, anyone? Of Fck It by @tillthelandslide gives you beers on the couch, friendly banter and then WOOPSIEDOODLIEDOO. [Henry Cavill x reader]

More friends to lovers with one accidental wet dream while lounging on the couch with Henry. Dreaming by @yoursecretsmutblog [Henry Cavill x reader]

Or perhaps PA/boss to lovers? Thunder by @toomanystoriessolittletime gives you Henry in full Geralt gear and rain..lots and lots of rain - meaning it’s time for a ..😏break. [Henry Cavill x OFC]

One more PA story to get the storm in your pussy settled. Years after working for Henry, you send a drunk text and he Answers. In the flesh. By @toomanystoriessolittletime [Henry Cavill x reader]

Audio porn

Another thing I got quite attached to while I learned all about my kinks here on Tumblr, is audio porn. And what better than to have Henry do some audio recording for us thirsty women? Erotic Audios Present... By @thetaoofzoe [Henry Cavill x OFC]

More audioporn!Henry? @toomanystoriessolittletime has got you covered with Talk Dirty To Me, starring photographer Henry who has had.. a bit of a past - and doesn’t his voice sound terribly familiar? 🧐[au!Henry Cavill x reader]

Communication

Smutty fics practically always skip the “So what do you actually like”-part. Well. This fic covers it - and then some. The Interview by @peachyvulpixie. [Henry Cavill x OFC]

And communication is very - very important. Especially when moving stuff around, right Henry? A Little Bit To The Left by @lunedelorient [Henry Cavill x OFC] 

Communication is also key when you want to decide on sub/dom dynamics. Switch has daddy vibes, but in a domestic, confidential, well-established relationship. By @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader] 

Or, you may just want to tell sweet Henry that it’s definitely okay to get a little louder between the sheets. Express Yourself by @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

A thrilling ride

Want to “chose your own adventure” in smutty style? @sciapod’s got just the thing you’re looking for with BD Morning Energy  [Henry Cavill x reader]

Sometimes it’s rough, sometimes it’s sweet, but ever and ever; it’s truly Henry. Read about various types of horny Henry in Shapeshifter by @wanderinglunarnights [Henry Cavill x reader]

Body/orgasm insecurity

This was a very personal piece to write. I have difficulty reaching orgasms, especially with a partner, so for all fellow ladies with the same little problem: Henry is here to give you some Riding Lessons between the sheets. [Henry Cavill x OFC]

And I’m so, so glad that there’s at least a few of you here on Tumblr who can also get a little worried and even impatient between the sheets. Thankfully Henry is the posterboy of Patience, ready to unravel you piece...by.. delicious..piece. By @captainbigdy [Henry Cavill x OFC] 

Nipple love

Female nips get all the lovin’. But male nipples? Not often. Tease by @the-soot-sprite will make sure that is taken well taken care off. [Henry Cavill x reader]

Alright, and now for a little female nip-nip action, let’s dive right into the action. Rough lovin’, shovin’ Cavill is showing you how terribly fucked out he can get you in In My Thoughts by @jolly-polly [Henry Cavill x reader]

Horizontal vs. vertical sex 

Shower sex is such a delectable topic to read about (even though in real life it’s usually awkward and impractical). Let your dreams bring you..after workout Showers with Henry by @darklydeliciousdesires [Henry Cavill x reader]

Or perhaps honeymoon shower sessions? Mirror by @tillthelandslide [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Did someone say honeymoon? Marshall remembers having to climb through that darn window the night before he married you and it makes for a super sweet, domestic fluffy smutty sex scene. And did I mention there was family right at the other side of the door? 👀 Locked by @fourmarkdove [Marshall x reader]

After all that working out it’s time for some food. But what would Henry prefer: ragu or you? What’s Cooking by @writingforhenry [Henry Cavill x reader]

Netflix and Chill

Netflix and chill, anyone? This Movie Night becomes a little steamy 💦 by @writingforhenry [Henry Cavill x reader]

It’s really difficult to watch tv with Henry around, and Freya gets a little frustrated with his incessant teasing; can a woman not just watch some Mindhunter in peace, damnit?! The Refund by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Play-time! 

From game play to girlfriend play during an extremely boring day in lockdown. Confined by @darklydeliciousdesires [Henry Cavill x reader]

More game chair smuttiness? It’s Game on! Mic on! - And ..Eh.. wait..what?! By @thecavillchronicles [Henry Cavill x reader]

Is tickle-play a thing? After a long day where everything seems to have gone wrong, you just need a good shag and Mike will make sure you can Sleep soundly tonight. @emyearns [Mikey x reader]

Alright, it’s a thing. Here’s some more tickle play with Marshall. Laughing During Sex by @promptandpros [Marshall x reader]

Hereby I declare that hairplay is also a thing. And with curls like Henry’s..I mean..come on. Love So Soft gives you dry-humping like horny teenagers after a bad day - and yes..hairplay. By @princess-of-riviaa [Henry Cavill x reader]

Needy Henry

Sad sky eyes are in dire need of some medicine, but Rose doesn’t realise until she’s getting some action for herself that the best medicine for Henry’s malady, is probably not watery soup. In Morbus Et Salus by @fanficsrusz [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Drunk Henry is in need of a midnight snack. And it’s a good thing there just happens to be one in his bed. Drunk In Love by @angrythingstarlight [Henry Cavill x reader]

And the next morning he might just be a really, really needy bear. (My boyfriend, for one, is always EXTRA horny when he is hungover 😂) Five More Minutes by @angrythingstarlight [Henry Cavill x reader]

A few more

And five minutes is probably all you get when you have kids. But it just makes these little mommy and daddy moments all the more sacred. Close To You by @the-soot-sprite [Henry Cavill x reader]

There’s also not a lot of time when you’re in a limo, trying to get your groove on. 🎶Driver roll up the Partition pleaseee 🎶by @fanficsrusz [Henry Cavill x reader]

Now to finish off this vanilla segment: vanilla kisses! Lick Me Till Icecream by @the-soot-sprite [Henry Cavill x reader]

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Vanilla - Toybox Special 

[A special toy segment for you vanilla(ish) lovers] 

When it’s play time - long work day or no - Henry better be prepared for some frisky business. On Purpose by @wanna-do-bad-things (also hell yes for including some toys!) [Henry Cavill x one very frustrated OFC]

More toys? MORE TOYS! Command And Obey brings you dom!Henry being a terrible teasing ass, but alas..it still gets you all kinds of wet *shrugs* By @wanna-do-bad-things [Henry Cavill x reader]

Perhaps need some dom!Clark instead? With toys? We’ve got you covered. By @poledancingdinos [Clark x OFC]

Now, let’s not forget about Henry’s favourite toy of them all. His bike. In Good Vibrations by @deathonyourtongue [Henry Cavill x reader]

You find Henry pleasing himself with something you didn’t even know he owned; a fleshlight. Henry’s Toy by @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

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Henry’s Hands Special 

[I can’t be the only one who has the hots for hands]

Having a bad day? Talented fingers belonging to one caring man of a Henry are here to let off your steam. Burn The Couch by @meowpurrbooks [Henry Cavill x reader]

I’m glad I’m not the only one who has a complete and utter obsession with male hands. This fic is amazing in every way. It’s got suspense, hands AND Henry; Idle Hands by @thelastsock [Henry Cavill x Reader]

More handsy stuff is offered in this private drawing session. Draw Me With Your Fingers by @emelinelovesjc [Henry Cavill x OFC!author]

This fic? ..it’s hands-on work. I must give a disclaimer: I’m hard to please when it comes to daddy!fics, but this one I truly enjoyed. It perfectly rides (hehe) the fine balance between rough throat fucking, choking and usage of the endearing nickname ‘little fawn’. Hands by @twhstuckylover [Henry Cavill x reader]

Henry’s hands are here to warm you up on a cold day in Finger Work by @yoursecretsmutblog [Henry Cavill x reader]

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The Hook-up

[A little less established, a little more messy. But definitely h-o-t-h-o-t-h-o-t]

Changing rooms may just hide a Dirty Secret (and crotchless pantyhoses) by @foodieforthoughts [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Being toyed around, Henry can’t stand it any longer - and goodness where did he leave that darn bowtie?! Caught In The Storm by @thelastsock [Henry Cavill x Reader]

Syverson is also not one who likes to be toyed around with, especially when you’re in the same bar wearing that deliciously short dress and his favourite high heels. Mine by @yoursecretsmutblog [Syverson x reader]

Dancefloor delights and popping buttons (is this a good time to admit I have ripped some shirts like that? *woops* 😅) - this quite exhibitionistic fic is an utter delight and I’m Glad You Came  by @foodieforthoughts [Henry Cavill x reader]

Since this is steady-hook-up I wasn’t sure whether to post it in this segment or the Vanilla segment, but ..yea..it definitely deserves a read! Rules Of Engagement has Em and Henry coming to the realisation that a friendly hook-up isn’t all that easy. Especially not when one foul IUD throws baby dust in their busy lives. By @ladyreapermc​ [Henry Cavill x OFC] 

Marshall specials 

An old friend/lover shows up just when you find yourself with the predicament of a broken down car. Before you know it you’re having car sex with one curly haired police officer in..yea..a police car. A Perfect Shitty Day by @toomanystoriessolittletime [Marshall x reader]

OOPH you girls are in it for the Walter hook-ups. Forget That Asshole follows up after you had one particularly disappointing blind date. And thankfully a blue eyed sweater-bear-man is there to provide you some much needed consolation.  By @penwieldingdreamer [Marshall x reader]

Sex on set

On set things might just get a little steamy, so might as well take ..*clip scene* ACTION! Touch Me Tease Me by @deathonyourtongue [Henry Cavill x OFC]  

More on-set delights? Perhaps with a touch of embarrassing nerves? Directed By La Petite Mort by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether [Henry Cavill x reader]

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>> Looking for part 2 of this list? <<

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Artworks/edits are mine ❤️And as always: if you have more fic recs to add, share them in your reblogs/comments! 

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[justmaybee]

Feather Sensitive

Summary: Oh, Yamaguchi’s really done it this time. He should just keep his mouth shut from now on. Unfortunately, that’s the exact opposite of what Hinata wants.

A/N: Y’ello! Another off-brand one, but hopefully a fandom peeps recognize. I haven’t seen Haikyuu in a lil, but I love Yamigoops and this has been 90% done for forever so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Based entirely off the second headcanon here, by @ticklishnonsense — absolutely loved it and you can tell cuz I wrote this ages ago for no other reason than having it written down for myself~

A big thank you to OP for letting me use her work as inspiration!!

———

This was a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a mistake.

Yamaguchi can’t will his mind into more elaborate thought, because it’s all just suddenly sunken in.

Hinata’s weight, heavy but not uncomfortable, resting snug on his hips. The loose tank top, just slightly too big on him, stolen out of Kageyama’s stuff at some point during one sleepover or another. And that ridiculously giant feather Hinata’s got poised between his fingers, like it’s a quill and Yamaguchi is a trembling, twitchy sheet of parchment about to be marked up.

When had he told Hinata? Why had he told Hinata?

Tsukki had figured it out, years and years ago; during one of their many one-sided tickle fights, Yamaguchi thinks. It’s been used against him for as long as he can remember, stray fluff from down pillows and blankets brushed over his neck or feet to pull a sudden and squeaky laugh. He’s never, ever told Tsukki just how much it really tickled though, and Tsukki never asked.

So why did he have to go and mention this to a person just as skilled and merciless in tickling people—often Yamaguchi people—into boneless puddles of teary, hysterical laughter?

It’s got to be Hinata’s charm. If Tsukishima has his cold, borderline apathetic, poise to lay base for his killer teasing method, then Hinata’s strength comes in his natural curiosity. Wide eyes, a light voice, and an openness that makes Yamaguchi feel like he can talk to him.

This, apparently, is not the case in a topic involving feathers. Because Yamaguchi will apparently lose all sense of self-preservation and voice his thoughts on how unbearably sensitive he is to a thing most people will flinch at and brush away like nothing.

But of course, it’s too late for him to realize his mistake now. It wasn’t until Hinata came barreling down the hall, shopping bag in hand, to tackle Yamaguchi to the living room carpet that things started rolling into motion.

Now Hinata’s got Yamaguchi pinned, arms under his knees and a big, big smile stretched over his face. It’s so genuine and excited that Yamaguchi finds himself getting a little lost in it, at least until the feather comes back into focus.

“I mean come on, Yamaguchi.” Hinata holds the quill of the feather and traces the soft end up his own arm, dusting it over his collarbone and getting just a hint of a twitch out of his lips before twirling it between his fingers. “I almost think that you’re lying to me.”

But his face must convince Hinata otherwise, because he doesn’t look like he thinks it’s a lie. The tracing of the feather, even along Hinata’s skin has Yamaguchi twitching, breathing funny. Goosebumps rise along his arms, and Hinata is so riled up with energy—so ready to take Yamaguchi apart—that it’s practically impossible for the brunette to even try and stop the wobbly smile making its way onto his face.

Hinata is the one to burst the bubble of anticipation building slowly in Yamaguchi’s gut. He laughs, a delighted little sound, commenting on the cute pink of Yamaguchi’s blush before he goes in for the kill. And Yamaguchi has never been that great at holding back his reactions, especially when he’s already a tense and flustered mess untouched, so the result is pretty immediate.

The first giggle slips hesitantly out of his throat but clears the way for many more as Hinata gently traces the base of his neck, skimming over his collarbones like even a feather could break them if used too harshly.

It’s a little timid, a little reserved, which is a major change of pace from Hinata’s usual quick and dirty way of fighting. He’s always had a ‘take no prisoners’ sort of approach to a tickle fight; either win outright or die trying, but the new method seems to slow him down a bit.

He’s thinking, watching. And luckily, for him and most certainly not Yamaguchi, the change seems to work really well with the soft touch of the feather. Pulling giggle after giggle from his victim and making him sputter at the attention when he realizes how closely he’s being observed.

The plume travels slowly up Yamaguchi’s neck, high enough that he’s able to jerk his head to block out either side as it passes. Unfortunately, that just causes Hinata to speed up the back and forth strokes, attempting to dodge Yamaguchi’s blocks. And it’s effective and so much more ticklish, Yamaguchi chokes on his sudden snort and tosses his head back on impulse, laughter getting louder and more desperate as Hinata takes advantage of the newly exposed skin.

He keeps at it until Yamaguchi feels light-headed, a little delirious with his laughter completely unchecked. The feather strays to flick up over his ear, and the whimpering laugh that comes out keeps Hinata there until Yamaguchi’s shoulder is twitching spastically of its own accord, desperately trying to stop the light, constant brush over his sensitive skin.

He gets a break—thank God—after a few minutes of this. Being dubbed most ticklish in the house (after many, many tests) has left him with pretty high stamina. But somehow a few minutes of Hinata and a feather has him panting for breath like he’d just finished a hundred laps around the gym.

Yamaguchi is so caught up in catching his breath (and trying to calm that tic in his shoulder) that he doesn’t really think about how breaks aren’t much of Hinata’s style either.

His floaty mind comes to bite him when he feels two soft points of contact touch down on his wrists.

His arms jolt on instinct. His elbows move a smidge in either direction but stick firm to the ground. Hinata’s smile takes on a wicked gleam and...oh boy.

If Yamaguchi gets out of this alive, the others will have some real competition for scariest tickler.

The feathers sweep back and forth, back and forth over his arms. They start at the wrist, and would almost feel nice if not for the impending sense of doom that has blood rushing through Yamaguchi’s ears right now.

The swaying movement drifts up, painfully slow. He doesn’t even think it tickles that much right now, but that doesn’t stop him from physically biting his lip to stop the snickers from making their way out.

It’s when the pair reach his inner elbow that first crack appears. Yamaguchi gasps and Hinata perks up, keeping the feathers there a moment longer, letting them sweep side to side a little faster.

From there the cracks spiderweb exponentially.

The gasp ends up turning into a snort. As Himata continues his path upward, it becomes a whine. And when he’s at the faint line where his skin darkens with a tan, from long summer days spent out in a t-shirt, he decides to flick the feathers in an alternating pattern over either arm.

It has Yamaguchi rocking back and forth in a way that he guesses might look kind of funny. Hinata starts laughing anyways. And of course, it’s enough to get Yamaguchi’s lips to loosen and let out the stream of bubbling giggles he’s been suppressing for far too long already.

His arms feel warm, almost as hot as his face, even though their air conditioning has been working pretty decently lately. There’s a faint tingly feeling still left where the feathers had once brushed his skin.

Everything already feels so sensitive, and Hinata isn’t even there yet.

There are butterflies having a—a mosh pit in his stomach right now. He can’t remember the last time he felt so wound up getting tickled. Then again, he can’t remember the last time Hinata put this much...care? Is that the right word for this situation? —into destroying him.

It makes Yamaguchi a little happy, for some reason.

And sometime about that moment seems to be the limit for Hinata’s concentration, because the change from gentle, teasing touches to his usual form of attack is both quick and excruciating.

The moment after, when Yamaguchi suddenly has two feathers sweeping fast little strokes under his arms, his brain completely short circuits.

What leaves his mouth can only be called a shriek and it’s quickly drowned out by the squeaky, panicked laughter that floods the room immediately.

His chest is jerking side to side in vain. There’s hair in his eyes and a little in his mouth from how violently he’s tossing his head around, but he can’t register a thing beyond the millions of wispy, light strands fluttering a fast track over and over and over the soft and sensitive skin beneath his restrained arms.

Hinata gets the bright idea to not try and jam the delicate things towards the floor anymore. He instead tries twirling them in a circular motion in the spaces underneath Yamaguchi’s arms.

Yamaguchi didn’t think his voice was high enough to screech like he used to, but ‘Hey, you learn something new everyday,’ he thinks, entirely delirious.

His back arches off the ground, head tossing back then pressing into his shoulder as if it’ll somehow smother his hysterical laughter.

It’s bright and desperate and so, so loud. Yamaguchi would typically only reach this point when someone’s feeling particularly ruthless with plenty of time to spare, but it could be hours since Hinata first got him pinned down; it sure feels like it.

There are weird little squeaks that pierce the air when he’s got the breath. His limbs are doing this constant squirm that’s got him feeling hot all over. His lashes feel wet and he knows it’s a matter of seconds before the tears start to fall.

But nothing is more prominent than the feeling of soft, soft, so very soft; and it tickles, it tickles, it really tickles.

———

When Yamaguchi’s brain finally starts rebuilding from the mush, hiccuping giggles making their way through his gasps for breath, he feels Hinata still sitting on top of him. Thankfully—mercifully—though, the feathers are nowhere to be seen, and his hands have been let free.

Seeing Hinata’s hand in his peripheral makes him flinch, but he just wipes at Yamaguchi’s cheek, brushing away the leftover moisture.

“I had to stop because you were starting to look like a strawberry,” Hinata grins. His skin is cool against Yamaguchi’s. He leans into the touch.

“So...was that awesome or what?” Hinata continues, voice energetic though he still rubs a soothing motion over Yamaguchi’s cheek.

Yamaguchi takes a second to reflect. On the dreamy tiredness seeping into his bones, the floaty high that fills up his head.

He nods, once or twice. Though from where Hinata’s sitting, it could just be Yamaguchi nuzzling into his hand. That’s fine. Yamaguchi could use the plausible deniability.

Once he’s been declared as officially ‘not a strawberry anymore,’ Hinata helps him up. He only stumbles a little bit, but of course Hinata has to poke fun.

“You know what that means?” Hinata throws out, arm linked with Yamaguchi’s as they make their way to a well-deserved seat on the couch.

Yamaguchi hums in response.

“We’ve gotta start building up your tolerance.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes widen, but he’s pushed onto the couch with a lap full of Hinata before he can say anything. He looks up at Yamaguchi all big eyes and a bigger smile. Yamaguchi swallows.

“We’re doing that again, soon.“

[lokisprettygirl]

I'm late to the game again 😂...I was busy with looking for Priscilla 👿🪓🤣...good for her that I couldn't find her...not yet...🤣

Y/n is still in deep sadness, it's more a depression. She's traumatized because of all the things that had happend to her and without the love of her life she's barely able to keep going. Unfortunately she developed an unhealthy behaviour , she's living in dreams, consumes alcohol to forget and to dampen the pain, she uses excuses to drink alcohol and this could get very dangerous for her health. Fortunately she has her good friends ( please Bruce, call Loki soon🥺) and she got a new job she can focus on. May it help a little bit 🥺

A bitch is a bitch is a bitch...Priscilla is a manipulator and a liar, she tries to play Loki and the villagers like puppets on a string, she's playing a cruel game. And forced sex, even when you have to force yourself to do it, is the worst thing ever. What is her intention to do that? She doesn't even like his body, she wants him to change it when having sex so...bitch use someone else or get you a sextoy...WTF ? 🤬😝

It's amazing how deep Loki and y/n are joined with each other. Their minds and souls are definitely inseparable. They're doing or thinking about the same things at the same time, she dreamt about Loki showing her his house that he had built on his own, (he thought about it before to show it to her), they listened to the same song and sang along to it at the same time 📻, the pillow cuddling 🛏...they definitely belong together, they're made for each other 💙❤️

Loki got many informations about the time when he was in NY and he learned about all the lies Priscilla had told, so... thanks to Debra. I'm sure he doesn't want to stay with Priscilla any longer but there's a child involved and Loki is the only father Alvis got to know. And Alvis has to be protected, nothing of this mess is his fault.. Loki would never make a hasty decision.

'...I fe...appeared here...' this supports my theory that Loki felt from the Bifrost or he used the Tesseract (c'mon it's Loki😉😂) and this could also be a further connection to Rogers...I know my theories are always weird and a complete fail 🤣🤣🤣

'...he just wanted to get back to his home, get back to his life, to you'...and I'm sure he will , we have to be patient 😊

Christmas is such a hard time when you're utterly alone like y/n and with all the happy couples around her it's almost unbearable 🥺💔. Poor y/n and poor Loki, he feels alone too and it hurts him even more because he knows y/n is all alone with Cat. If y/n knew about how bad Loki feels and how alone he is and unloved , she would nearly die, I guess 😭😭

The christmas card she sent him is sooo cute and he guards the envelope like a treasure...' And I love you both my darlings, I'll love you forever'... and my heart shattered into million pieces 😭💔😭💔😭💔

And that's what I'm here for 🥰😍...and I bow down to my Queen of writing ❤️🧎🏻‍♀️👑

Well you have to find her soon 😏😏 I guess we all have been there where we use an outlet to numb the pain but you just have to know when to stop. In her case her pain seems lifelong because she knows Loki has a kid and he'd never be hers.

You are right Alvis is just a baby and he deserves to be protected. He is not at fault that her mother is like that :( it's like blaming loki for having Odin as a father. That's why Loki is still there, he wants to protect that child.

Well she might not like the body and the skin which is absolutely awful of her (but seriously one of my accuaintance without hesitation told me that she wouldn't fuck Jotun Loki after she watched Thor 1 because she found him scary, the marks were ugly, eyes horrified her. And I was like you dumb fuck.. Safe to say she inspired this bit). That being said Priscilla knows that dick is ten out of ten and she wants it🥶😂

We will see if he fell from bifrost or something else happened to him 👀

No you're the queen 👑

[kitty0boy]

So it’s like 2 am rn and I’m tired but can’t sleep so I wrote this down quickly. It’s a little Marichat fic that probably won’t be very good because I’m running on like 5 hours of sleep. I’ll probably fix spelling mistakes tomorrow or even just delete this but for now, enjoy.

—————————

The class decided to have a picnic to celebrate their last year at Francois DuPont high school. They were about 17 now, some were 18. Everyone lounged around, eating pastries, talking about their first day back from summer and just genuinely having a good time. Unfortunately Adrien’s father had instructed him to go home so while he packed his belongings, he listened to his friends conversations. That was when he saw a younger girl run up to Lila.

Now Adrien knew he had a lot of fans, as Chat and as himself. The older and more, how you say, well defined he became, the more fans he acquired. Though when it came to Chat, being a fangirl was much more dangerous. At one point it got so bad that Ladybug had to schedule an interview with the Ladyblog telling them to stay away during akuma attacks. They would quite literally, chase after Chat while he was being chased after by an akuma. He even saw one of them pretend to be hurt so he would swoop in and save them. Yeah very dangerous stuff. Which is why it was quite a scared to hear that Lila was a fan.

“Of course I’m a fan of his, in fact, I’m quite close with one of Paris’s superheroes.” She spoke, hiding the lying tone to her voice. As irritating as she was, he had to admit she was good. “Really?” The girl squealed. She was on the younger side, maybe 13 or 14, about his age when he first got his Miraculous. “Oh leaving so soon Adrien?” She said in a sickeningly sweet voice. “Yeah, my father again.” He replied, trying to sound friendly. “I can walk you home if you like! I wanted to speak with Mr. Agreste anyways. About our up coming photo shoot.” Damn it, he’d almost forgotten about that. He hated shoots with Lila. Adrien had always liked physical affection, but with her it was almost unbearable. “No that’s ok, I can walk him.” Marinette offered, stepping in to shield him from the object of his discomfort. And what a beautiful shield she was.

Her days of pigtails were over, instead she would wear her hair in different styles everyday. Today was a half up half down style with space buns, very reminiscent of her fight as Multimouse. She has also settled for a mint green t-shirt and a black skirt which clearly paid homage to his superhero self. It was nearly impossible to wipe the Cheshire grin off his face as she strode over, picnic basket in hand. He was visiting her while she finished the little paw prints along the hem of the skirt, but of course she wouldn’t know that. “Wow miss, I really like your outfit! Where’d you get it?” The girl squeaked rushing over. Her eyes shining with pure joy. “Oh why thank you, I actually made it myself.” She curtsied, very adorably in his opinion. “Wow that’s so cool! Could you make me one?” If she got anymore excited she would float into space. “You know, I can get Chat to stop by if you wanted.” Lila chimed in, drawing the girls attention back to her. “Really?” She turned and ran towards her new favourite person. “Of course I can, my boyfriend always seems to find me.” She faked a gasp and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “Whoops.” She exhaled. The class gasped. That was what she was looking for.

“You’re dating Chat Noir Lila?” Marinette snickered, silencing them. It was clear that Lila had more influence over the class now. As much as they all loved Marinette, Lila had successfully made herself more interesting. “Yes I am, but I wasn’t supposed to say that. Oh no, I’m going to get into so much trouble.” She delicately placed her fists over her chest for added effect. Marinette burst out laughing and that’s when Adrien slowly started to back away unnoticed by his friends.

He ran and ducked into an alley way making sure he wasn’t followed. “Oh come on kid, I didn’t even get anything from the picnic. You should have at least slipped me something.” Plagg groaned. “I will after I go sort this mess out, it’s dangerous if people think Lila is dating me, she could be targeted by Hawkmoth.” He rationalized. “Big deal, if she gets akumatized we can just purify her no problem.” “Uh yeah Plagg it is a big deal. What if Hawkmoth kidnaps her instead, as much as I don’t like her I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.” “Well kid if she gets kidnapped because she lied about dating you it’s not your fault is it? Now can I at least finished eating?” He sighed, Plagg was right. If she got kidnapped now she only had herself to blame. An idea did pop into his head. Maybe if she was proven wrong, she might stop saying things like that, and he knew the purrfect purrincess to help him achieve his goal. “Later, Plagg Claws Out!” A flash of green later and there’s stood Chat Noir, in all his leather-clad glory. Hopping onto the roof, he made to move towards them when the sound of shouting caught his attention.

“Do you realized how dangerous it is to even say things like that!” Marinette squeaked, really living up to her super identity and the mysterious multimouse. “You can’t just tell people you’re dating superheroes for attention Lila, you’re safety could be at risk.” She pointed, Lila seemed to be unphased but there was something about her posture that showed she was guilty and ticked off. “I already told you I didn’t mean to let it slip, I have a rare condition c-“ “called Liars Luny or something like that right?” Marinette interrupted. He had to hold back a laugh at her clever remark. “Marinette that was incredibly rude.” Rose intervened, and one by one everyone turned their faces to Marinette, a glared placed on almost all of them. All but Nino and Alya, who had long discovered Lila’s manipulative ways. Though they were still afraid to say anything about it, they didn’t want her to get akumatized after all.

“Look Marinette, if you’re jealous just say so, I won’t be mad. I’m sure a lot of other women would love to get their hands on my sweet kitten. I mean, considering your outfit it’s pretty obvious you have a crush on him.” You know, for a compulsive liar, Lila seemed to be good at getting the truth out of others. Marinette’s face turned pink and her fists began to clench. Her back stiffened up too, was she really jealous? Or was it just his imagination. Maybe he hoped she was, he had fancied her for a while now but he never made a move. Suddenly his classmates were surrounding her and she looked like she was on the verge of tears.

His anger from earlier started to rise to his chest as he let out a low growl and leapt off the roof. Thankfully, his years as a model made him a fairly decent actor as well.

“Fancy seeing you here my purrincess.” He purred walking over to the group. “You look radiant as always.” Lila stiffened but quickly tried to look relaxed as she confidently strode towards him. “It’s nice to see you here too kitten, couldn’t stay away from me I see.” She smiled, it almost looked genuine. It didn’t take long for her possi of classmates to follow behind, leaving Marinette standing there clearly distraught, he growled again as a tear slid down her cheek. Keeping it cool, he cooked up a response. “Umm, I’m sorry but do I know you?” He said in mock confusion. The class gasped slightly, “Of course you know me, didn’t you just call me your princess?” Lila chimed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “No. I have no idea who you are, I was talking to the lovely lady in green and black. She is radiant isn’t she, and she looks fantastic in my colours.” He replied cooly. Before anyone had time to react he ran through the crowd and picked up Marinette, twirling her in a circle. She giggled slightly, her throat a little strained. She placed her forearms on his shoulders, intertwining her fingers behind his head as he slowly lowered her to the ground. “What’s wrong love?” He reached up, gently brushing a tear from her cheek. She got the hint to play along. “Nothing I’m all good kitty.” She smiled genuinely and he smiled back. Ignoring the eyes of everyone around them. He held up his arm and gestures to her skirt. “Do you see all of these little paw prints? She sewed them all herself! It took her 4 hours too, I almost couldn’t draw her attention away from the stitching.” She blushed and buried her face in his shoulder, oh mon dieu she was so cute. “And these shoes,” he scooped her up bridal style and she laughed. “See the little toe beans, how adorable.” The girls squealed and ran over to admire her craftsman ship while the boys kept glaring daggers at Ms. Lie-la. “Ok now stand back everyone! We have to show you how it spins.” Marinette cocked and eyebrow at him. “How it spins? Excuse me sir but my pronouns are she/her.” He chuckled before pinching the black fabric of her skirt. “No I mean this, you did wear shorts today did you not?” “I did.” She confirmed. “Good,” he subtly winked at her before continuing, a little louder than necessary, “Wouldn’t want everyone else seeing what’s mine now would we.” Before she could register his words he held a hand above her head and gave her a little twirl, her skirt flowing beautifully in the wind. “See what’d I tell you? Absolutely beautiful.” He turned and smiled down at her, she blushed back up at him. Dieu, he could happily die drowning in her eyes. The two of them seemed to be in a world of their own, just looking at each other.

Until a voice snapped them back to reality. “I can’t believe you! You filthy cheater!” As well as a liar, Lila was a good actor. Tears streaming down her cheeks, arms straighten and hands curled into fists. He rolled his eyes before forcing them to look at a more revolting sight. “Like I said miss, I have no idea who-“ he paused “Oh wait I remember you! You were the liar that nearly got Marinette expelled weren’t you! The one who tried to intervene when Onii-chan was akumatized just because you disliked Ladybug.” He didn’t mean to get so angry but he couldn’t hide it anymore. His hand gripped Marinette’s shoulder a little more tightly than he would have liked but she wasn’t hurt by it. Everyone gasped on cue and turned to Lila who stood there pale. Karma is a bitch isn’t it? In his fury he barely registered Marinette’s hand on his arms. “Come on Chat, let’s get out of here.” She whispered. Coaxing him back to the present. “Yeah ok, I’m sure your friends will deal with her.” She smiled at her classmates who had turned towards Lila with furious looks on their faces. “Did you have a place in mind mousinette.” She giggled at that. “Well there’s always that spot you took me to the first time you came to visit, remember where it is?” She smiled. “I don’t think I would forget that.” He turned towards the crowd. “Welp, me and the princess will be taking our leave now, though I did enjoy seeing you all again.” Then he stooped down to pick her up bridal style as she giggled. For good measure he placed a light kiss to her temple before racing off towards that lovely spot they had just discussed.

“WHAT THE F***.” The fangirl screamed after all the confusion.

———————————

So it’s been a month or two since I first posted this and I decided to clean it up a bit and add a few more details to it. Not that this is suddenly going to blow up but I do like the impurrovement (hehe I have puns for days). So yes, if by some miracle you are reading this, I hope you enjoyed!

[monotonous-minutia]

I don't know if you've answered this before, but what would be your top 10 Hoffmann (filmed) productions?

actually I haven't been asked this question in particular, mostly general favorite opera productions that some of these always end up on. As you all know I have a probably-unhealthy obsession with this opera, so this’ll likely get kinda long. Because I’m me, I will be including brief analysis of each one on the list.

Mostly in this order, though it might change slightly from day-to-day:

1) Met 2009/2015 I rave about this one often enough it's probably fairly obvious why. I count them as one because it's the same production (the utterly delightful and incredibly gay Sher staging) so very similar, but if I had to pick between the two of them, I'd pick the 2009 one, personally. 2) La Scala 1995 Not only is this the gayest Hoffmann I've ever seen, it's also very possibly the gayest opera production I’ve ever seen, period. Like seriously, the gay just does not stop unless Hoffmann and Nicklausse simply aren't onstage, but every second they are, holy heck. It's almost unbearable. The production itself is so-so, but the cast is fabulous: Shicoff and Mentzer bringing in the gay as Hoffmann and Nicklausse, respectively; Samuel Ramey being suitably diabolical as the villains; Natalie Dessay being the greatest Olympia ever; and Denyce Graves being my second-favorite Giulietta (drop-dead amazing). Only sad part is we don’t get the trio des yeux. I would seriously die to see this cast do that number. 3) Munich 2013 This one is just delightful in every way. The edit is odd and a bit irritating at times, but the zany production, amazing cast (Damrau! Villazón! Relyea! Brower! did I mention Damrau!), and super-gayness make up for it. There's never not something going on, and there are some really unique staging choices that make it a stand-out production overall. 4) Brussels 1985 This one breaks my heart. Diana Montague is hands-down one of the cutest and gayest Nicklausses ever and the dynamic between him and Hoffmann is really something special. Production is unremarkable but the gayness level here is off the charts which I would have thought was illegal in 1985 but I am so grateful for it. Montague’s Violin Aria is unbelievable. I watch it when I feel like crying. 5) Orange 2000 Dislike the fact that it's the Choudens (abbreviated) edit, but aside from that, I love it: the cast is excellent (Dessay as Olympia yet again! José van Dam being awesome! Angelika Kirchschlager reigning as one of the cutest, gayest and sassiest Nicklausses ever! Plus: The Hair. and he gets the Violin Aria!!) and the production is pretty straightforward which is nice. The fact that it's outside on an open-air stage lends a really cool atmosphere, especially in the Antonia act. It's surprisingly gay for being the short version, though the very end is confusing and more than a little annoying. 6) Paris 2002 The production itself is not my favorite (though certain parts of it are growing on me) but I love that we get Shicoff and Mentzer again as an incredibly gay Hoffmann/Nicklausse team. Not as gay as the La Scala one, but still one of the gayest ever. You really cannot beat these two as this dynamic duo. Not to say others aren't also great, but these two just have such intricate chemistry and wonderful interpretations of their characters and their relationship, it's really on a level of its own. Plus, they're both really adorable, though this Hoffmann isn't quite as nice as his La Scala incarnation. 7) Zurich 2021 Still talking about this one quite a bit, so I won't say too much, just the basics. No huge names in the cast, but they're all pretty great, in particular Nicklausse and Antonia. It's very gay and the production is quirky and fun. Plus, it's about as close to the Kaye edit as you're likely to find, so there's a lot of really cool material you can't find anywhere else. There are some annoying cuts (chunks of recits missing, no Septet) and I am super not a fan of the very end of it, but aside from that, I love the interpretations of the characters and the fact that the sets, costumes, and staging are fairly straightforward. 8) ROH 1981/2016 This one's fun and cute, very classic, though burdened by some unfortunate cast members. Mostly I love Powell's Nicklausse/Muse. It's the short version which is also irritating, but the interpretation of Nicklausse is surprisingly gay in spite of that. 9) Barcelona 2013 This one almost exclusively for the cast--Losier, Spryres, Naouri, Kim, and Dessay (though as Antonia this time!). It's odd to say I'm not a fan of the production itself, because usually I love anything Pelly does. The aesthetic is dark and atmospheric but there are some significant staging choices I'm not a fan of. It's kind of the Kaye edit so that's cool to see, especially because it's the dialogue version which includes lines not seen elsewhere (like the Pylades/Pollux one I so adore). The very best thing about this one is Michèle Losier's Nicklausse. Though this production doesn’t make my top 5, Losier's Nicklausse does, hands-down. Her expressions, her boundless energy, the sass, the Gay, and that ethereal voice. Just fantastic and definitely one of my favorite roles for her. I could watch her as Nicklausse forever. 10) Macerata 2005 The production is unremarkable itself, and the edit is kinda odd (we get half the trio des yeux, half of the Violin Aria, and the ending Muse monologue, but no beginning Muse monologue). BUT, I adore Maurus as Nicklausse. So gay, very adorable, cheeky, and fun. And I love that outfit.

and there you have it! Probably way more information than you wanted, but here it is XD I could talk about this opera forever so I really appreciate the ask!

[unohanadaydreams]

forgot to resend it properly! sfw or nsfw relationship headcanons with male!reader x hanataro, ggio, as nodt? thank you~~

I went with sfw since I haven’t touched these characters before and wanted to flesh them out a bit. Personally, it was a delight to fanon-ify As Nodt since his character design is one of my favorites of the Sternritter! <3

Hanataro Yamada:

He’s fun to surprise. Whether you’re playing harmless little pranks or leading him by the hand to a well put-together picnic, he’ll always make a cute scene about it. Loving you makes him gullible. He trusts that you won’t lead him astray or be cruel. So the reveal of a sweetly wrapped lie, especially for romantic benefit, usually does shock him. However, if done too often, he’ll continue to put on an act, but years of awful birthdays—as he was born on April Fool’s day—has made him perceptive.

He needs someone patient to his recurring bouts of self-doubt and loathing. Not many people believe in him and he’s endured many years of getting trampled on in relative isolation. Sweet compliments and tender acts of service help most. His head may speak loudly, but your loving kiss as you steer him toward the warm bath you drew for him helps drown it out. Hanataro has a somber soul when left to stew too long.

Chivalry is dead and Hanataro killed it with a nervous conversation about how he’s capable of taking care of himself. Whether it be figuring out a cross word or reaching a cupboard. Sure, it’s not fair, but neither were the countless years of him being underestimated and treated like an incapable child by so many outside the 4th—and even some within. Give him room to prove himself…to himself. He knows when he’s over his head and rest assured he’ll call on you.

Ggio Vega:

If you’re someone who bows to other’s whims every time, you’ll be Ggio’s footstool. There’s no use being passive aggressive—you’ll just make him snarl what he wants instead of say. The only hint he’ll pick up is one blunt and plainly stated. Ggio knows what he wants and he loves having his way. Welcome to your crash course in keeping boundaries. Even with great boundaries, you’ll find yourself a contestant of Ggio Knows Best most times.

Ggio also hates small kindnesses. Open a door for him and he’ll smack the handle from your grip and call you an asshole for treating him like a child. If you want to help someone that badly, then go find a charity, because Ggio will kick you good and hard for every hand out you offer him. In Hueco Mundo, someone unable to take care of themselves is as good as dead, and plenty of hollows attempted to make him a meal on their false assumptions. Unfortunately, this means Ggio would rather die than ask for help--best to let him yell at you for assisting than watch him struggle.

He knows you love him—who wouldn’t?—but anyone who he feels is better than him is a threat he fears you’ll prefer. If someone is faster than him, he worries you’ll admire them more. Perhaps there’s someone who looks like him, but better. Why wouldn’t you pursue someone better when they’re available? Ggio is one of the best but he’s not THE best. And he genuinely loves you, enough to know you deserve the best. Let him know that’s exactly what he is to you. Big egos need a lot of maintenance sometimes.

As Nodt:

Being attached to you, he grows a new fear. What if you were to die and go to hell? If you’re irreligious, this could be such a point of contention that it might turn into the end of the relationship. Heaven won’t be one without you and Hell would be unbearable knowing you were there, but always apart from him. Don’t worry about the particulars—regular church attendance and such. It would be enough for As that you submit to the words of God and give your after life to him. Divinity is you giving As Nodt both your lives.

Because of his fear, As Nodt is extremely protective. The world is bleak and full of dangers. The ways to die that are statistically highest are what tear at him the most. His insistence on a heart healthy diet can be cute, but his tries to make you borderline agoraphobic might not be. Go only where and when he can follow and weigh the risks you take with his happiness in mind. Overbearing, thy name is As Nodt. Never before has he been so irrational than when in love.

He delights in indulging in long talks, in tempting you into joining him in experiencing thoughtful media. His mind is vast and crowded. His relationship with death makes him long to know as much as possible before the inevitable. As particularly loves subjects which are morbid or nigh unknowable. If you hate debating or passionate arguments, it’s another something that might turn into the end of the relationship. One of his great joys is hearing a perspective he hadn’t known before or being proven wrong or reaching a conclusion—whether that be an actual conclusion or an exhaustion of the topic. To disagree is to be alive, in his mind.

[anarchy-lives-eternal]

Charlastor Week Day 2: Human AU!

(This will be the start of a series of continuous one shots following Charlastor Week, all part of the same universe!)

Losing Your Soul (By Accident)

Contains mentions of Blood and Gore

Alastor LaCroix was having a strange night. The scene in front of him was something he never could have expected, and never thought possible. On the ground was the dead body of a corrupt official, bloody and broken. But for Alastor, that wasn’t the odd part.

No, the oddness of the night began with the appearance of a demon. Now, most people would maybe say this should have been expected, What with all the bloody symbols Alastor had carved into the corpse and drawn in blood on the ground, but Alastor didn’t believe in such nonsense. Well, he supposed he might have to now.

You see, Alastor is a killer. A good one at that. He had even gotten into the habit of carving religious symbols into his kills and drawing them around the area in order to throw the police off his trail, not that they were looking too hard. What with the fact that usually his victims were some particularly nasty individuals. He never expected anything to come of it; after all, he hadn’t believed in God or any religion really. His highest power was his craving for the hunt.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on who you talked to, on this night he was proven utterly, completely, wrong.

“Oh! This is so exciting! My very first one! Oh, I can’t wait to tell daddy. He’ll be so proud!”

In front of Alastor stood a woman. But not just any ol’ dame. No, in front of him stood a demoness, her ivory skin off set by onyx lips. She had long, wavy blonde hair parted with large sharp horns protruding from her head, and her eyes were the most unique of all: her sclera were blood red, her irises a poisonous shade of yellow, and her pupils were slit like a fox or snakes.

That’s when she jumped forward, leaning down and getting into Alastor’s face (which was strange in and of itself because Alastor’s impressive height of 6’4” was nothing to sneeze at, and it was a rare occurrence that a man could get in his face, much less a woman).

“You’re absolutely adorable! And positively human! I’ve never seen one before, so I’m very excited!”

Alastor took a large step back, he was not used to people actively getting in his personal space. Is this how others felt when he did it? It didn’t help any that the demon was a good few inches taller than him, “I’m sorry, my dear, there must be a misunderstanding!”

The demoness stayed where she was, but shook her head excitedly, “Oh no! No misunderstanding! You see these symbols here? This is you pledging your undying soul to me! Isn’t that so exciting? I mean, from the looks of it,” she looked down distastefully at Alastors kill, “You’d’ve come to Hell anyways, so really it’s no huge issue! I promise I’ll be a kind master!”

Alastor froze. The word “master” was replaying over and over in his head. What had he done? Was this God laughing in his face for murdering people? What cruel irony had befallen him!

“Anyways! What’s your name? Where am I? You know, I didn’t expect you humans to be this tall! Dad always talks about you like you’re absolutely tiny. Then again, this isn’t as big as I actually get... hmmm.”

Alastor latched onto the only concept he could process at that moment, “Dad?”

“Oh yes! It was rude of me to ask your name without giving mine, wasn’t it?” The demon laughed, embarrassed, “My name is Charlotte Magne, Princess of Hell, Heir to the Fallen’s Throne, but I go by Charlie for short. My dad is Lucifer, King of Hell, ruler of the Fallen’s Kingdom, or as we nicknamed it, Hell. Now, what’s your name?”

Alastor immediately regretted his question. Until a thought occurred to him, “Why, my name is Alastor LaCroix! Say, since I’m supposedly pledged to you, does that mean it’s in your best interest to keep me safe and intact?”

The princess, Charlie, narrowed her eyes, her wide energetic smile shrinking to one of cool calculation, and Alastor almost felt tempted to fidget. Maybe it was just the knowledge of who, and what, she was, but something about Charlie seemed to connect with him on a predatory level: like a lion and a tiger meeting.

“Well, there is no ‘supposedly’ about it, Alastor. But I suppose I can humor you. After all, now that your soul belongs to me, there is no where in the three realms you could run that I could not find you.”

Alastor still maintained his grin, despite his annoyance at the correction, “Well, darling, I don’t know the official rules, but I was hoping to make a deal with you!”

Alastor was praying this worked. He figured that as the daughter of the Devil, she would have a predisposition towards deals. He hoped.

“A deal? With me? You’ve already made one and lost your soul! Daddy really wasn’t kidding when he said humans were stupid little things, was he?”

Alastor felt his eye twitch wildly, “I take personal offense to that.”

Charlie once more stepped forward, leaning into Alastors space with her hands behind her back and a bright smile on her face again, “Fine then, Alastor. What deal do you have for me? If it’s something silly to try and wiggle out of your commitment, I would recommend not bothering. Also, know that if I don’t accept your deal, and counter it, and you decline my counter, I’ll be taking you straight to Hell with me tonight.”

Alastor withheld the urge to swallow, “Well, dear, on that note, I did have a single question to ask before I proposed my deal!”

“Then what is your question?”

He took a steadying breath, “Why, I wanted to know if you were going to kill me, or if I wouldn’t see you you again until I died naturally, of course.”

Charlie hummed thoughtfully, her hand holding her chin, “Well, it would depend entirely on what I feel like doing. I don’t have many friends in Hell, as you could imagine, and having some company would be nice. Then again, forty or fifty years really isn’t that long of a wait.”

Alastor nearly choked at that, ‘not that long of a wait! How old is she?’

“Of course, of course, my dear! However, I do recall you saying that you had never seen a human before. How would you like to meet more?”

Now this piqued Charlie’s interest, and Alastor noticed. His grin widened just a tad.

“What do you mean? Meet more?”

“Yes indeedy! How about this: if you allow me to live, and cut my time that I am pledged to you in half, I will let you stay with me here! On Earth! And you can see the sights, meet the people, really just have a jolly good time!”

Charlie tilted her head, and looked at him oddly for a moment, “You can’t cut eternity in half, Alastor.”

For what felt like the millionth time that night, Alastor froze again, “Eternity?”

“Well yes, Alastor. What did you think these symbols meant? And not only that, but that deal weighs heavily in your favor. Did you really think it’d be that easy to fool me? The daughter of the King of One-sided deals?”

Alastor scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile, not really willing to say ‘yes, I did’.

The princess laughed, brilliant peels of laughter seeming to cascade from her black lips, “You did! Oh, you humans are so cute! Now I believe it’s my turn to counter your deal, yes?”

Charlie grins widely, showing off razor sharp teeth, eyes glowing viciously in the moonless bayou, “I allow you to live out the rest of your fated time here on Earth, and in turn, I am allowed to come topside anytime I so please to... check on you, as my investment. How does that sound?”

Alastor’s grin dimmed a bit, “That deal does not involve any mention of my time being reduced.”

Charlie smiled slyly, “I never said it would.”

Now Alastor has a choice to make: take her deal, and live out his natural life with the guarantee of her being able to do as she pleases, so long as she isn’t the one that kills him; or die and go to Hell with her right now. Regardless of his decision, his soul was owned, and he was going to Hell for all eternity at her side.

“Well, I guess I don’t really have a choice then. I’ll take your offer.”

“Good! I was actually hoping you would!” And then she leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips. His eyes were open the entire time, so he noticed the burning red light that emitted from them when she did, as well as felt heat surround him. It felt like fire had bloomed all around them.

He reared back quickly, sputtering, “What the devil was that?”

Charlie giggled lightly, finding his flustered state rather endearing, “The deal is struck! Now, did you need any help... cleaning up? I don’t mind helping out, if need be!”

Alastor stared at her with eyes wide as dinner plates, “You would just... help me get away with murder?”

Charlie shrugged her shoulders, her smile dropping for the first time that evening, “Well, I don’t like it, and I find it rather horrid, if I’m entirely honest. But, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Alastor was silent for a few moments, staring in wonder at this demoness, “You’re the princess of Hell, but... you don’t like murder? I was only asking because I thought you’d think it below you. Disliking it though? What wacky nonsense!”

Charlie stiffened, narrowing her eyes at Alastor, and he felt the air around them heat to near unbearable temperatures, “Did you have a problem with it?”

Waving his hands in front of him he quickly corrected himself, “None at all! Just a tad bit surprised, dear.”

Immediately the air cooled down, leaving Alastor to tug a bit at his bow tie.

“So are we done here or do you need to clean up?”

“Ah, I was done anyways, darling.”

“Sweet! Then let’s go! I want to see your world. Ooh, are we in a swamp or something? This is water? It’s so cold!”

Alastor couldn’t help the chuckle as the demoness in front of him ran wildly from one place to another, marveling at all the things she had apparently never seen.

“It’s called a Bayou, around these parts. Yes, that’s water, and it’s not cold, it’s actually quite warm for water. If I may, if you want to come with me to where all the other humans are you’ll have to blend in a little more. Suffice to say, most people aren’t used to seeing demons on the streets, sweetheart!”

“Oh yes! You are right. Well I suppose I could just change quickly!” And then she snapped her fingers and now in front of him stood a woman of average height with Blond hair, pale skin, but not the ivory white it had been, and black eyes, the sclera now a normal human shade of white. She wore a black and pink flapper dress, that Alastor could admit looked rather charming on her, and a pair of low black heels.

Alastor blinked for a moment, “Well that’ll work.”

“Let’s go!” And she grabbed him by the hand, almost literally dragging him towards Lord knows where.

“Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Well, no, but I want to see everything.”

Alastor smiled. He was still peeved that this had happened at all, but at least the gal was rather charming, and had allowed him to live.

Oh, who was he kidding? He was going to do everything he could to get out of this, no matter how adorable the princess of Hell was!

‘Wait... adorable?’

Aaaaaaand Cut scene! Hope you all enjoyed!

[itachis-hoe]

listen, kiba wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote something for him. enjoy~~ feel free to request, I love writing angst and fluff and smut

inspired by “best friend” by rex orange county

i wanna be your favorite boy

Her hands were broken, no—her wrists were completely snapped, she could feel the itchiness of her fingers, the nerves struggling to connect as the dull pain shot up her arms in waves. She couldn’t do any jutsu and she certainly couldn’t free herself now. She knew the blood seeping through her pants was from the pole stabbing itself through her side, or maybe it was the piece of rubble crushing her left leg. It was impossible to move—impossible to do anything except lay there and die. Her voice long gone and hoarse from the screams of agony, the warm tears slid down the paths of previous ones. Her vision was spotty. In her condition, she was lucky to have been alive that long—the pain had been unbearable. Now?

She couldn’t feel much, an uncomfortable pinch in her back, but beyond that, she could feel nothing. She could do nothing.

Nothing, but give in to oblivion and die.

Would they find her? Put her name on the memorial stone for her friends to stare at. She wondered if he would visit her grave. Probably. He was a good person.

It’s why she loved him.

She loved...

Her eyelids felt heavy, sleep taking over her, like a warm blanket. It reminded her of falling asleep in her parent’s bed when she was younger. Her mother’s cool hand on a feverish forehead, the tender brush of hands that loved her dearly. She missed her mother.

Just a little bit...

Her eyes fluttered closed, she could hear her name on the wind, maybe it was her imagination. She was dying. It was the end. There was nothing left. She only wished she could have seen him one last time, maybe told him she loved him. But it was over now. And she was going. And he’d never know.

She thought of him one last time with a weak smile on her face, and his name creaking out from her chapped and bloodied lips.

~

~

~

Her eyes shot open, her whole body felt light, and when she shot up from the ground, it felt like she was coming up from underwater. The first thought she had was that she was dead and that this was the afterlife. But as her senses came back one by one, she blinked and realized she was somewhere else entirely. Her hands went to her body, almost on instinct to try and free—

She was using her hands, her body was light...she wasn’t trapped...

Her surroundings came into focus. The village was still in ruins, but her comrades—the ones with broken bodies and glazed over expressions...they were up. Up and helping others like her. She shifted, whipping herself around and blinking quick as if everything would go away. Maybe it was all a genjutsu... but then...no, she would have been able to break something...

“_______!”

Her head whipped in the direction of her name, a bark echoed the exclamation and as soon as she could blink, a blur of white fur cane crashing into her chest. A warm tongue lapping excitedly at her face, as she fell onto her back, from the force of the large dog’s attack. She pushed on the creature’s fluffy mane and a laugh bubbled out of her lips, before a sharp whistle.

“Akamaru! C’mon, let up,” the boy in his familiar war paint and leather jacket ushered his companion to relax. When the dog responded almost instantly, she pushed herself back up, resting on her forearms, a lopsided grin on her lips. She stared up at her childhood friend, Kiba Inuzuka with a wave of relief washing over her. The raw emotion of seeing him squat down beside Akamaru, a boyish smile as he ruffled the panting dog’s mane. He was like fresh air after holding your breath for forever. Her eyes watered and a sob erupted from her chest, she went to lay back down her hands covering her face as the sounds around her blurred into white noise.

“_______!? What’s wrong?!” Kiba and Akamaru rushes to her side, and she felt him propping her back up, an affectionate hand rubbing her back through the ripped chuunin vest. She let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her eyes, looking mad, “I-I’m fine, I’m fine, really. I’m...I’m just so relieved, Kiba.”

When she calmed herself to look at her cute as sin best friend, her arms went to wrap around his neck, “I’m...s-so glad we’re okay, Kiba.”

His arms went around her waist and she could feel Akamaru judging his way in between them as if to say he was jealous enough to want to weasel his way in to the embrace. The two friends gave into the emotions of the whole day and sat quite exhausted from the weight of the battle. She moved her legs slowly, unsure of her every move and testing how her body would react. The damage had seemingly disappeared and she was still in shock. If Kiba noticed, he made no effort to acknowledge it. The Shinobi was quick to break the silence, a solemn expression on his features. It was foreign, but in these circumstances, you said nothing, “I...we thought you were dead.”

You couldn’t possibly fathom a suitable response.

“Akamuru found you...in the rubble. I-I...they said you were...they told me you were g-gone...I—“

“Kiba...I’m okay now,” she said with a gentle smile, and a hand over his clenched fists that had taken residence on his thighs. He was so emotional it almost made her worry—he was usually much cooler than this. “And I don’t know what happened but I’m glad to have seen my best friend first.”

She didn’t notice the way his lips tugged down for a microsecond, the knee jerk reaction at her proclamation of friendship. Instead she nibbles on her bottom lip. Deep in thought about her next words.

He loved when she did that. It was cute.

“Kiba...did...is Naruto okay?”

She had a red tinge to the top of her cheeks when she asked. Her crush for Naruto had rivaled that of Hinata. He’d known her for all his life and she was a smart girl—smarter than most girls he’d ever met. She wasn’t overtly cute, or brash, or even flirtatious. In fact, if anything, he realized she was very different than the girls in his class. But they were neighbors and had been friends since they could walk. A simple beginning stemming for the fact that she wandered into his house chasing one of the many family hounds.

When they’d finally become aquatinted after her mother and father were apologizing for their daughter’s curiosity. He realized she was like a cat. Wandering around town as a little kid, climbing into places she shouldn’t be and observing in silence. He steamrolled into her life with a boastful greeting and she accepted him almost too easily—but she was curious. He thought that maybe she’d end up liking Shikamaru. He was almost exactly like a cat. Bristly and brooding, but cool as a cucumber and a genius to boot. Or maybe Sasuke—every girl loved Sasuke. (Now that seemed crazy...)

But her sights had been set on Konaha’s infamous hyperactive ninja—Naruto Uzumaki. She would always say he was interesting—an orphan with no one else, but a smile to brighten a room. He saw her fall hard for his bright blue eyes and her curiosity probably blossomed into romantic feelings when she grew older. It didn’t help that Naruto left for three years and came back a whole foot taller. It was almost unfair, he thought. She blushed so hard when he came back he’d punched a wall.

She was head over heels for Naruto but so was his teammate, Hinata. Stuck in the middle of that little awkward fact, he chose to say nothing about it.

Except now...

She’ll cry if I tell her.

Then, I’ll be there for her.

She’s not gonna fall for me, just quit dreaming. Dumbass.

Kiba wanted her. She liked Naruto. Hinata loved Naruto. Naruto was...well, he was Naruto. (It was all very unfortunate.) Akamaru responded with a bark and she laughed, one she hid with the back of her hand. He would had let out a sigh if he weren’t already beaten down by life and love and everything else.

“Naruto’s...last we heard Naruto went off to fight Pain himself. But...I should tell you—“

“Why would he do something so stupid? This is Naruto...of course he would...” she held a hand to her forehead, shaking the bad thoughts away. No, he was fine. Naruto was always fine.

“Hinata...”

Her eyes found his, warm, but painted in different desires. She blinked at his incomplete thought. Her attention fully focused on him. “Is Hinata okay?”

“She’ll be alright, but...Hinata tried to protect Naruto, and Pain...he hurt her. Naruto kind of...he flipped out. It’s why he chased Pain down. ______, she told him. She told him—“

“Stop...stop talking, Kiba,” he noticed the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. She felt herself bubbling up inside. It was...relief.

To Kiba he was seeing the girl of his dreams weep over the boy of hers. That wasn’t him. It was Naruto. It was always Naruto.

“Are you okay...?”

She wiped at her eyes. He felt powerless and Akamaru whines at the sight, wiggling closer to her shoulders, nudging himself into her face, trying to lap up her sadness.

“I-I’m f-fine,” she said. Akamaru wagged his tail, at the sight of her looking back at him with a smile. She was bruised and exhausted and absolutely stunning even in her state. And Kiba wanted to hate Naruto. “I’m crying because I’m glad she’s okay.”

“_______, you don’t have to be strong. I know...I know you have feelings for Naruto. And it’s alright to—“

“What?”

He stopped when he saw the confusion etched on her features. He repeated himself. And she furrowed her brows together.

“I don’t have feelings for Naruto. I mean, I love him but like a sister loves her brother. I’ve been worried about him for as long as I can remember.”

“But...you’ve always liked Naruto.”

“No, I might have thought he was cute. But, Kiba, I wouldn’t do that to Hinata.”

Her hand went back to his and she pulled it into both of hers, filling the space between them. Her smile blossomed into a full blown grin, reaching her watery eyes. They were close. Close enough...

“I always thought...”

Without hesitation, she pulled his hand to her face, her cheek directly in his now sweating palm. He had never been that close to her face—always maintained a respectful distance between him and her. Never crossing that boundary—he was a loyal friend. A friend. She relaxed into his hand, closing her eyes and relishing his warmth. “Kiba.”

“Y-Yeah?” He was unusually quiet in his answer, shocked by the events unfolding too quickly before him.

“It was always you.”

Cue the fireworks in his heart. The absolutely blackout of his brain. From the moment she had smiled up at him at four years old, to the time when she decided she’d be the best kunoichi, to the time she cried about being on another team than him in their genin years. He was so sure that she’d never liked him. How could she...

“It’s always been you, Kiba. I wanted to see you one last time when I thought I was a goner. Gosh, I’ve been in love with you since I was six—“

He was so quick to kiss her. Kiba moves his free hand to cradle the back of her neck, pulling her up, his kiss was tender but passionate. Innocent but teetering on indecent. When he pulled away, her own hands flew to the brown of his hair, lacing together with his headbands long strips, she was nearly as frantic as he was as if they both felt that this was their first and last kiss before the end of the world. When she opened her mouth, his lips mirrored the action, their tongues shyly touching and tasting each other. It was embarrassingly tender.

And when they finally broke away, Kiba rested his forehead against hers, pulling her closer into his chest, she all but fell into him as they tumbled backwards against the earth. She fell into his chest and they stayed that way before Akamaru wriggled underneath Kiba’s head, propping his up like a giant fluffy pillow. His tail wrapped around them.

“I think Akamaru approves,” he smirked.

“I would hope he did.”

“______...”

“You don’t have to say anything right now Kiba.”

“I just...”

“Kiba,” she looked up at him through her dark lashes, “it’s okay. We’ll talk about it later. Right now I just want you to kiss me.”

“If you had told me sooner, I’d have done it a long time ago.”

[bubonickitten]

Summary: Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Previous chapter: tumblr // AO3

Chapter 6 full text & content warnings under the cut:

   CWs for Chapter 6: some ableism &internalized ableism (re: ADHD & anxiety); panic attacks; one (1) swear, because Jon is BORED and he CAN'T HANDLE IT and it is A MOOD. SPOILERS through S5.

   Chapter 6: Rude Awakening

   Jon is back in that blank vacuum, and time is doing that thing where every moment feels like an eternity. He suspects it might have just as much to do with his innate intolerance of boredom as it does with sensory deprivation. The lack of any sort of stimulation in this place is unbearable. He never has been able to sit still for long periods of time, and he can’t even fidget here, for fucks sake.

  It’s like he’s a child again...

  ...seven years old and lying face-down on the kitchen floor, swinging his legs in the air, complaining loudly about how there’s nothing to do. Normally, his grandmother might snap at him to go outside and stop pestering her, but a vicious thunderstorm is passing through and she won’t let him play in it – and besides, he’s technically grounded.

  Just two days ago, he had wandered off after being forbidden from leaving the yard. Again.

  In his defense, there was a cat sunning itself just beyond the fence, and he wanted to say hello because he loves cats but his grandmother won’t let him have one, and then the cat stood up and yawned and trotted off, and obviously he had to follow it, and then – before he knew it, two officers were escorting him home. Again.

  His grandmother had been shocked to find the police on her doorstep with her intractable grandson in tow – she hadn’t noticed he was missing – yet again.

  After they left, she was furious with him for embarrassing her like that. Again and again and again. 

  So, now he’s under house arrest – a new term that he had picked up from the officers: “Your grandmother is going to put you under house arrest if you keep wandering off like this, kid.” The first couple times, they had found his meanderings and adventurous nature cute, albeit worrisome; by the third time, the charm had worn off and the weary indulgence vanished along with it; by the fourth time, he received a stern dressing down about safety and recklessness and making things difficult for his poor grandmother; and now, the fifth time, there had been a not-so-subtle warning about contacting social services to investigate neglect....  

  With each scolding, Jon would feel appropriately abashed in the moment, but it never took long for it to fade into the background, drowned out by a mind understimulated and screaming for some novel distraction. Somehow, courting negative attention was preferable to receiving no attention at all. When adults were being charitable, they called him precocious and clever. When he was testing their patience, though, he was a difficult child, a nuisance, a bother – and he had a tendency to exhaust even the most tolerant adult’s patience very, very quickly. He's always been... difficult.

  God, why is he even thinking about this? Is he really so starved for something to occupy his attention that he’s digging into the annals of his childhood?

  (Yes. Yes he is.)

  He throws his head back with an aggravated sigh. Or he would, if he had a body here, but whenever there’s no dreamer around to witness him, he’s an incorporeal mind floating in nothingness.

  What he wouldn’t give to be able to just jiggle his leg right now. Tap his fingers. Play with his hair – or better yet, Martin’s; his hair was always so soft and he would always lean into Jon’s touch like a cat. It will probably be awhile before Jon gets to touch him again. If ever. What if –

  Stop, he tells himself. You’re only going to catastrophize, and then you’ll get depressed, and then you’ll be useless. Why are you always so difficult? You –

  He throws the brakes so quickly he can almost feel the screeching halt. Crashing a train of thought like that is like ignoring an itch. Itch, itch, itch, the word echoes in his head – and now he wants to scratch at his worm scars.

  Wait, no, don’t think about them – it’ll just make you itchy, and you don’t even have a body, which means you won’t be able to scratch, and – and, yes, now you’re itchy, and – damn it, can’t you just sit still and clear your mind for five sec–

  “Um. Hello, Jon. Do you… mind if I call you Jon?”

  Wait. Is that…   

  “I mean, you don’t actually know me. It’s just, well. ‘Archivist.’ It’s so formal, isn’t it?”

  Oliver! Finally, Jon thinks with relief.

  “Dreams are like that, you know. No matter how lucid you think they are, there’s always that part that just drags you along. Guess I don’t need to tell you that. At least, not right now.”

  Oliver. Oliver, can you hear me?

  Oliver sighs. “Wish I could tell you why I came here.”

  Apparently not.

  “Wish I knew why I came here.”

  When in doubt, blame the Web.

  “Sorry to go on, I – I don’t talk to many people these days. Putting my thoughts outside myself, it gets a bit, er, clumsy.”

  Jon knows the feeling.

  “Be easier if you could talk back, right? Ask me questions, have it tumble all out?”

  Easier, sure. But far more unpleasant.

  “But no. It’s – it’s just me. Wish there was a better way, but touching someone’s mind, it’s not as simple as that? Doesn’t always make things clearer, you know?”

  Again, Jon does know.

  “Still, I gave the old woman a statement, so maybe I owe you one as well. That’s how it works, right? Give your terror, give your dream?”

  Unfortunately.

  “It’s not like I don’t have them to spare.”

  Preaching to a choir, Oliver.   

  “Let me tell you about how I tried to escape.”

  No – let’s – can we just move things along?

  “So. My name is Oliver Banks. In my other statements, I used the name Antonio Blake, but…”

  Guess not.

  This probably counts as a live statement, and Jon had been keen to avoid those this time around. He wishes he could cover his ears, shut his eyes, block it all out – but then again, even if he could, would he? That familiar single-minded fixation is settling over him like a heavy fog, and it’s as unnerving as ever – a craving that he doesn’t want to indulge, but once he has a taste, it feels right. The guilt never comes until after the need is satiated.

  It’s nearly impossible to stop a statement once it starts. His mind starts to go fuzzy, restless, full of static and pressure. He’s always wondered: is this what compulsion feels like to the ones he turns it upon?

  The static fades then, everything becoming sharp and clear and real, like a picture coming into focus. The Archivist is hungry, intent on every single word like a cat, motionless and unblinking, watching a moth beat itself senseless against a light.

  And the Archive – the Archive is ravenous. Its presence looms in the background in a way that it hasn’t since before Jon passed through the rift, weighing heavily on the back of his mind.  

  He gives up on trying to reach out and touch Oliver’s mind for the time being, gives in to the need, and listens as the story twines itself around and through his thoughts.

  When Oliver finishes his account several minutes later, Jon feels brighter, more alert, reinvigorated. The disgust and shame will creep up on him later, he’s sure, but for now, it feels right. He feels whole. 

  “Right,” Oliver says. “That’s, uh, it, I suppose. Maybe you heard me. Maybe you’ll dream.”

  Oliver, Jon tries again. This time, for the briefest of moments, he thinks he can hear a subdued hum of static. Can you hear me?

  “Then again, maybe I just wasted my breath – but I don’t think so. Honestly, I’m still not exactly sure why I’m here. But you know better than anyone how the spiders can get into your head.”

  You don’t need to rub it in, Jon mutters to himself. 

  “Easier to just do what she asks.”

  I beg to differ. The static picks up again, more of a persistent buzz this time. Oliver, listen –

  “The thing is, Jon, right now you have a choice. You’ve put it off a long time, but it’s trapping you here. You’re not quite human enough to die, but still too human to survive.”

  Yes, yes, I know. The buzz becomes a shrill whine. Oliver!

  “You’re balanced on an edge where the End can’t touch you, but you can’t escape him. I made a choice. We all made choices. Now you have to –”

  Oliver Banks.

  “Um?” 

  Finally, Jon thinks, exasperated.  

  “Jon?” Oliver ventures. “Or, uh – Archivist?” 

  I prefer Jon. 

  “Huh.” Jon can pick up a soft squeaking noise, as if Oliver just leaned back in his chair. “I’ll be honest, I’m not sure how you’re even doing this.”

  Neither do I, but I don’t exactly have time to contemplate that right now –

  “I suppose it’s similar to Elias’ ability to broadcast knowledge into another person’s mind,” Oliver muses, almost to himself.

  Oh. It… it is, isn’t it? That’s… not a comforting thought.

  “I didn’t realize it was something the Archivist could do as well. I thought your job was more… acquiring knowledge, pulling answers out of people, not impressing it upon them.”

  I’d… really rather not dwell on it, Jon says, tamping down the burst of fear that surges through him at the thought of comparing himself to Jonah. His mind has gotten trapped in that particular rut many times before, and it's never a good place to be.

  Either Oliver respects Jon's wishes or simply doesn't care to waste energy pressing him on the matter, because he drops it and moves on to the main reason for his visit.  

  “Have you made your choice, Jon?”

  I made my choice months ago. I just couldn’t figure out how to – how to act on it. How to actually wake up.

  “I confess, I’m surprised to hear you declare your choice with such confidence.” Jon hears fabric rustling – Oliver crossing his legs, maybe? “I was led to believe that you were… almost pathologically indecisive.”

  I… usually am, Jon admits, though Oliver’s phrasing is too incisive for his comfort. But I made my choice, and I’d like to follow through on it now.

  “Ah. Well.” Oliver sounds uncharacteristically perturbed. It almost reminds Jon of himself when he's unable to Know something. “Not sure why you couldn't before?” 

  Jon wonders if it has something to do with being newly well-fed. Or maybe he just needed direct contact from the End? Speaking of – he can feel Oliver’s eyes riveted on him, quietly observing and calculating as if trying to get an accurate estimate of the Archivist.   

  “But – but you definitely can now. The roots are...” Oliver falters, and Jon thinks he can feel him lean in closer. “There’s something… off about you. The roots, they look… sick. Wrong. And the threads are – are tangled.” Another pause. “Can you explain it?”

  Not here. I don’t want Elias listening in.

  “Doesn’t he have eyes everywhere?”

  Almost everywhere. The tunnels under the Institute are… a blind spot, sort of.  

  “And you would discuss it there?”

  Within reason, Jon says warily.

  He doubts whether Oliver would ever be an ally – judging from the statement he gave during the apocalypse, he’s too fatalistic to intervene one way or the other – but he doesn’t feel like an enemy, either. Maybe he would be interested in sharing information, or even just letting Jon bounce strategies and theories off of him? It might be helpful, having a mostly-neutral Avatar to consult.

  Also, there's just something… lonely about Oliver.

  If nothing else, it would be a break from the monotony for you, Jon adds.  

  “I don’t know how I feel about visiting the Institute again. Not out of fear for my safety, mind. Just don’t like the feeling of being watched. Feels… I don’t know. Slimy.”

  That’s one word for it.

  “Apologies. I’m not a wordsmith, if you haven’t noticed.” Jon can hear Oliver shifting uneasily in his seat now. He really is awkward, isn’t he? 

  I don't know, I’m sure you could put together a decent sermon on… existentialist philosophy, or macroeconomics, or the inevitability of death and taxes, or – or something.   

  “I’m not exactly pleasant company.” He says it matter-of-fact, but Jon thinks he can detect a trace of melancholy underneath the customary impassiveness. “People tend to be… unsettled when they meet a walking, talking memento mori.”

  No more unsettling than talking to an incarnation of paranoia and terrible knowledge, Jon says sardonically. Also, the vulnerability inherent to being seen. Maybe some of the more vexing aspects of academia as well. 

  Oliver chuckles at that, but cuts it short. It's almost like he didn't expect it. Jon thinks maybe he can understand. Go long enough without laughing, and when you finally do, it will come out sounding all wrong to your ears. Like an out-of-tune piano, Martin said once. You have a nice laugh, Jon. You just aren't used to hearing it, and right now it's a bit rusty from disuse.  

  “I don’t know that I was ever good company,” says Oliver after a moment. 

  Can’t be any worse than I am, Jon says lightly. Maybe you’re just out of practice.

  “Perhaps,” Oliver says evasively.

  Well, consider it an open invitation. Just... I don't know. Keep it in mind.

  “Not like I can forget anything.”

  Quite a curse, isn’t it?

  “I’ve made my peace with it.”

  I know, Jon replies. If he’s honest with himself, he can’t help but envy Oliver to an extent – how secure he is in his role, his tranquil embrace of his destiny.

  Jon isn’t being fair, though, is he? Oliver went through hell to achieve his current level of humble acceptance, and regardless of either of their current perspectives on fate and free will, the fact remains that they were both forced into making impossible choices under duress. They’ve both become something they never expected or wanted or asked to be, and... it doesn't seem like Oliver deserved it. On his good days, Jon thinks maybe he didn't, either.

  “I’ll… consider the offer.” Jon can detect just a hint of curiosity beneath the reticence.

  Before Jon can reply, though, he hears the door open and close.   

  “Can I help you?” Georgie’s voice, slicing through the quiet like the crack of a whip.

  “Oh, I – I’m a friend,” Oliver says quickly, clearly taken by surprise. “Of Jon’s.”

  “Are you, now.” The hard edge to her tone turns icy, and Jon can’t help feeling sorry for Oliver, pinned under that uncompromising stare of hers.   

  “Uh, y-yes.”

  “Right. Just haven’t seen you visiting before.”

  “Um, I’ve… been out of town!”

  If Jon had any control over his body, he would put his head in his hands right now. Apparently Oliver is just as bad at lying on the spot as Jon is, and unfortunately for him, Georgie happens to be a natural lie detector.

  “Right,” Georgie replies flatly. “The nurse didn’t say anyone else was here.”

  “Oh! Oh – oh, well. Sorry if I surprised you.”

  “It’s fine.”

  It’s not.

  “I’m Antonio!” Oliver blurts out, and Jon cringes with secondhand embarrassment.

  “Sure,” Georgie says, voice dripping with disdain. “I think you’re done here.”

  “Oh. Uh, right…” Oliver’s chair scrapes against the floor as he stands up. “Have I upset you, miss –”

  Bad move. Georgie hates being referred to as 'miss.'

  “No, you just remind me of someone.”

  “Ah. I’m sorry. Were they –”

  “Evil. Yes.”

  “Uh. Okay, then.” It’s almost funny, an Avatar of death itself shrinking under Georgie’s scrutiny. Then again, she would likely be a force to be reckoned with even if she hadn’t lost her ability to feel fear. “Well, I just – well, I guess I should just go.”

  “I guess you should.”

  “Um. Goodbye, Jon. I guess I –”

  “Goodbye!” Georgie says, putting on a transparently false cheery tone, and Jon can make out Oliver’s harried footsteps as Georgie ushers him out.

  Once the door clicks shut, Jon hears her approach him again.

  “Sorry about that, Jon, but you really don’t need friends like tha– wait. Did…?” More footsteps; then the door opens again, and Jon hears Georgie’s voice echoing distantly down the corridor. “Hey! Hey, get back here! I need to talk to you!”

  Jon wonders if Oliver's already gotten away.

  Oh, Jon thinks suddenly, she’s… not going to be pleased if she finds out I tried to make friends with the grim reaper. Neither is Martin, come to think of it.

  He feels a twinge of guilt and worry. He’s not yet woken up, and already he’s doing things that Georgie might see as careless and self-destructive. Still, though… he doesn’t think Oliver is evil, or even particularly threatening. If anything, Jon thinks he knows now how Naomi must have felt, watching some eldritch monster fumble a conversation like any other mundane human grappling with social anxiety.

  Well, what’s done is done. Oliver might not even take Jon up on the offer. No use worrying about it at the moment.

  He needs to focus on waking up.

       Unfortunately, Oliver didn’t explain exactly how Jon should go about waking up.

  His first instinct is to think of Martin. With practiced ease, he reaches out for a memory, and –  

  Jon has always had an unexpected sweet tooth. He never really mentioned it to any of his coworkers. It’s not that he’s self-conscious about it; it’s more that he just never thought to share unsolicited facts about himself. Most people would take one look at Jon and either assume he takes his tea black, or that he’d prefer to fix it himself – and the latter wasn’t an unfair assumption. Martin, though… somehow, he figured it out.

  It took some trial-and-error, though at the time, Jon never noticed that Martin was deliberately trying to puzzle it out. Eventually he settled on the exact right formula, and Jon – well, by the time he realized, it felt like too much time had passed to remark on it. He was never very good at compliments anyway, giving or receiving. From that point forward, though, w henever Jon was having a particularly rough day – which, by their standards, was saying a lot – Martin would make Jon’s tea sweeter than usual. It was such a small gesture in the face of the horrors that permeated all of their lives, but in retrospect, it spoke volumes.

  Jon took forever to notice all those little gestures. He still feels like an ass for how ungrateful he was back then, but it just never occurred to him that anyone would put that much time or effort into learning his preferences, especially something so mundane as how he takes his tea. Jon barely put any thought into his own comfort, let alone that of others.  

  But Martin isn’t like Jon.

  Jon has long marveled at how kindness seems to come so naturally to Martin. As much as it might seem like he just preternaturally knows the exact right things to say and do when he sees someone hurting, though, it was never effortless: Martin cares deliberately, painstakingly, actively. He prides himself on that attention to detail, on all the little acts of kindness and consideration that, when put together, make him the most thoughtful person Jon has ever met. 

  Of course, Jon also feels a wrench in his heart every time he thinks about how and why Martin cultivated that caretaker skill set in the first place. They talked about a lot of things, after the Lonely, and the truth had come out little by little: Martin had never had anyone in his life who loved him unconditionally. From an early age, he tried desperately to curry favor with a mother who resented him for reasons he could not help and that she would never explain. It bled into all areas of his life. Every adult role model, every passing friendship, each of his few short-lived intimate relationships was a link in a long chain of giving and sacrificing and carefully policing himself to meet others’ expectations at the cost of his own vivid inner life – and never once did he receive anything meaningful in return. For too long, Jon was a link in that chain himself. 

  Martin had learned to measure his worth by whether and how he could be of use to others, and always found himself wanting. Jon could relate to that unhealthy preoccupation with making himself useful, but for him, it manifested as workaholic tendencies, harsh self-criticism, and a fear of letting anyone get so close that it would actually hurt when they inevitably grew tired of him – though at the time, he would have said he just had a preference for his own company. (Funny, in retrospect; he's never been good company for himself.) Martin sought to be noticed and loved; Jon ran headlong in the other direction, unable to tolerate the vulnerability of being known or the risk of being abandoned.

  He suspects that Martin would be compassionate regardless, though. And it's admirable, it's beautiful, it's brave, and Jon loves that about him – but Martin shouldn't have had to go through hell in the process of nurturing that trait. Trauma didn't help him grow; it only twisted his definition of caring until it became an instrument of self-harm. As they navigated their relationship, Martin did get better at setting boundaries and communicating his needs. It never made him any less compassionate towards Jon or anyone else. He just learned that he deserved compassion as well - from others and from himself.  

  Jon will always be in awe of how after everything – how Jon treated him in the beginning, how Jon left him alone and grieving in the aftermath of the Unknowing, how thoroughly the Lonely pervaded his life – Martin never once lost that instinct. He admitted to Jon that by the time Peter threw him into the Lonely, caring didn’t feel natural anymore. He was too numb and isolated to really feel a connection to other people. His empathy had been drained away. But even in its absence, Martin still made the effort to care. He still believed that human connection was important, even if he believed that he couldn’t experience it himself.

  And after the world ended, when Jon was deep in his grief and hopelessness, Martin stayed by his side. Jon told him that this was no longer a world where they could trust comfort – but Martin responded with patience and kindness. He put comfort into a world where it seemed like none could exist, and Jon will always be in awe of how Martin could just… do that, and with such confidence – stubbornness, almost.

  Even after Jon lost him, the memories of these moments anchored him. To hope, to care, to try – it was worth it. Or, as Martin told him more than once: “The fog doesn’t go on forever, even if sometimes it seems like it.”

  Martin will be okay. He has to be. Jon just has to find his way back to him. He’s done it before; he can do it again. He just has to wake up.  

  “–m trying – help – came to me.”

  Lost in thought, Jon almost doesn’t register the voices. They’ve been there in the background for a few minutes now, he realizes belatedly – they just hadn’t penetrated his conscious awareness. It’s like listening through six feet of soil – he curses his brain for immediately reaching for that mental image – and he strains to translate the dampened noise into coherent words.

  “I came to Melanie.”

  Georgie!

  “Well, sorry. Right now, I’m it.”

  Distantly, Jon can hear the steady ticking of a clock, and he spares a moment to be thankful that he couldn’t hear it the entire time he was asleep. It would have made his restlessness even more intolerable, and – as his thoughts veer off track, the voices go muffled again. Damn it.

  It takes him a few seconds to refocus his attention.

  “– don’t know why this guy would have left a tape recorder?”

  Basira.

  “You’re the detective,” Georgie says.

  “And you’re sure it was him who left it?”

  Jon didn’t hear this part the first time around, but he can safely assume they’re talking about Oliver.

  “I mean, the nurses said there were no others visitors, so…” Georgie takes a breath. “Unless it appeared by magic?” A pause; Jon can practically hear Basira’s eyebrows raise. “What, seriously?”

  “I don’t know,” Basira sighs. “The whole tape thing is… I don’t know.”

  To be honest, Jon doesn’t Know, either. That was always one of the things that the Beholding kept to itself, much to his chagrin. 

  “Right, well… I showed you like you asked, so –”

  Breathe, Jon tells himself. Time to wake up.

  “Shh,” Basira interrupts. Jon can hear movement nearby. “Down here.”

  Come on. Inhale –

  Jon can feel his lungs expand ever so slightly.

  “I told you.”

  Good. Exhale, now.

  Jon’s lungs contract, and some of the feeling starts to come into his extremities. He experimentally tries to move his hands and one of his fingers twitches, brushing against the coarse hospital linens. At least it's something. 

  “This is the one?”

  Wake up, Jon, he tells himself, attempting to overlay his thoughts with compulsion. He tries to wiggle his toes, but it doesn’t seem like they’ve gotten the memo just yet. Come on, this is the part where you woke up before. Just – just wake up –

  “Sure.”

  Jon feels a brief stab of panic – Why can’t I wake up? – and then he feels his heart stutter in his chest. A telltale pins-and-needles sensation begins to spread in his fingers and – this is probably the first time he’s been relieved to experience the precursors to a panic attack.

  It’s a good sign, he tells himself. You’re connected to your body again, so just – 

  “You don’t sound very sure,” Basira says.

  It isn’t working. Why isn’t it working?

  Come on, open your eyes –

  “I mean – I don’t know. It might be a different model, maybe? I thought it was plastic – but yeah.”

  Just sit up, just – wake up, Jon.

  Nothing.

  Neither Basira nor Georgie speak.

  The tick of the clock is deafening.

  Wait, Jon thinks. What if…

  “So what does it mean?” Georgie says eventually.

  Open your eyes, Archivist.

  His eyes fly open and he sits bolt upright with a gasp.

  “Jon!” Georgie yelps, jolting backwards as Basira simultaneously breathes, “Jesus.”

  Clutching his throat with one hand, Jon continues to struggle for air in deep, rasping gulps. Each breath comes with a sharp pang and an uncomfortable tightness in his chest, his lungs protesting after months of disuse and refusing to completely expand.    

  Eventually, although he can still only manage half-breaths, he looks up at Georgie and Basira. Intending to apologize for frightening them, he opens his mouth and – 

  The tape recorder under his bed clicks on with an earsplitting, static-leaden whine.

  Both women startle again, and Jon’s posture goes rigid, his other hand coming up to rest against his throat.

  Sorry, he tries to say again, but nothing comes out, and the tape recorder emits another blast of white noise.

  Basira and Georgie are watching him closely now – Georgie with concern, Basira with suspicion. Jon looks back with terrified eyes, panic blanketing him with all the weight of the Buried.

  No, Jon thinks to himself, not again –

  As his vision starts to blur, both trembling hands leave his neck and reach up to cover his mouth.   

  “Jon,” Georgie says gently, approaching his bedside again, “what’s wrong?”

  Jon’s eyes squeeze shut, sending two streaks of tears trickling down his cheeks, and he shakes his head frantically. He tries desperately to stifle the whimper building in his chest, but it’s creeping up on him anyway.

  “Breathe, Jon.” When Georgie rests her hand gently on his shoulder, he flinches violently away. She pulls back, holding both hands up palms-out in a pacifying gesture. “Okay,” she says evenly, “okay. No touching.”

  Jon has had these episodes for most of his life, and Georgie had witnessed more than a few while they were dating – though they were nowhere near as frequent then as they are now. It's been awhile, but Georgie easily slips into the same soothing tone she would always use. 

  His brain is already tuning her out, though.

  I can’t – I can’t –

  The Archive prowls forward and settles in just behind his eyes, an opportunistic vulture watching intently for its next meal. If he really needs to use his voice, the library is available for reference. He just has to –

  No – please, no –

  Who is he even talking to?

  Jon draws his knees up and locks his arms around them, curling his shoulders in and hunching forward to hide his face. He takes a shuddering breath in. It comes out as a strangled sob.

  What am I supposed to do now?

     End Notes:

Shorter chapter than usual this time since it was originally part of the previous chapter, BUT that kind of felt like a good place to end it for now. I hope to have Chapter 7 ready to go by early next week. Now we REALLY get into some S4 canon divergence.

Oliver's dialogue (up until the point where he starts having an actual conversation with Jon) is from MAG 121; Georgie & Basira's dialogue (up until the point where Jon wakes up) is from MAG 122.

So! For those who like Archive-speak Jon: yes there will be more of that starting next chapter. For those who don't: there will still be original dialogue too. I like writing him both ways too much, so expect a mix from here on out. (Some chapters may have more or less depending on what state Jon's in at any given moment. I'm playing around with some concepts.)

I should probably note at this point that a lot of how I write Jon's ADHD, anxiety, and other mental health stuff is heavily based on my own experiences with neurodivergence. It doesn't mean everyone experiences these diagnoses/symptoms in the same way, though. c:

[homeforchristmas-au]

Character bios/descriptions

Here’s some descriptions of the sides in this au cos i wanna talk about them like all day lol

Patton Sanders (formerly Shepard):

Age: 29

Pronouns: he/him

Height: 5’6”

Straight chestnut brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, hint of a tan but nothing too extreme, rectangular glasses with black frames, usually wears clothes that are comfortable (especially oversized jumpers), loves wearing beanies (often steals Logan’s, who hesitantly allows it) (mostly cos he’s really freaking cute in them)

Really good with kids (ofc) and is such a people person, but can get shy around older people (specifically men old enough to be his dad)

Very good at reading emotions and knowing what people need, whether it’s a hug or alone time

Has asthma, but it’s not nearly as bad as it used to be

Is an only child to a mother and father, but ended up running away cos his dad became really overly aggressive

His uncle on his mothers side is Emile, who is married to Thomas, and they both took Patton in once it became clear that emiles sister and her husband were unfit parents (although Patton’s mom was much better with Patton and actually helped him run away) which was when he had his last name changed to Sanders

He met Logan when he ran away and they both went to emile and Thomas’s house together (I actually wrote the story of how they met for 25 Days of Ficmas on my main blog uwu)

They started out as friends for a long time until Patton found himself falling for Logan, who revealed that he had been crushing on Patton for quite some time

Their relationship started out rocky as neither of them knew exactly how to date (theyd dated other people before, they were just remarkably bad at it) but they made it through in the end

Logan Sanders (formerly Adams):

Age: 28

Pronouns: he/him

Height: 5’11”

Curly, light brown hair, amber eyes, moderately fair skinned, a lot of freckles on his face and arms, round glasses with silver frames, dresses much differently depending on if he’s home or in public - at home he’ll wear T-shirts and casual lounge pants and beanies and stuff, but in public typically sticks with a polo shirt and jeans, sometimes with a necktie depending on the setting

Has a tendency to put up a cold exterior around strangers or when in a public setting, but around loved ones he’s much more relaxed and casual, but still usually struggles to express his feelings.

He’s an amazing father, although sometimes he doubts this despite how much his kids absolutely adore him (he also has a tendency to doubt his own intelligence, even though he’s incredibly smart)

Is autistic, on the high functioning end of the spectrum, and has worked with professionals for basically his whole life to work on reading social cues and such, which he’s much better at now

Has three younger sisters - from oldest to youngest, Ellen, Renae, and Ashley. Logan being the oldest sibling, he’s always felt quite protective of his sisters. Can and will physically fight the whole planet for them

Their father died when Logan was 16. He was completely distraught over this and ran away from home. It was the most reckless, impulsive thing he’d ever done, but he doesn’t regret it for a single second, because that was how he met the love of his life

He did end up going back home to his family, because he knew they needed him

Virgil Sanders:

Age: 4 (birthday December 19)

Pronouns: he/him

Height: idk however tall four year olds are

Floppy black hair, gunmetal blue eyes, about as pale as a vampire, always wearing something purple (most notably the light purple polo shirt Logan couldn’t resist getting him, as well as his dark purple jumper that’s a size too big)

He’s fairly shy, though Patton and Logan tend to avoid calling him as such (they typically say introverted), but once he warms up to new people he’s a delight (it took him quite some time to fully trust Janus, but even from day one it was clear they connected on some level). He adores insects and arachnids, and much to Patton’s dismay, his favourite is spiders. He wants to be an entomologist when he grows up, but he can never remember the word for it, so he says “bug scientist”

Is suspected to be autistic but has yet to be tested for it

He was adopted by Patton and Logan when he was an infant. His mother was sixteen years old and had to give the baby up, due to her parents insistence, plus she knew she was unfit anyway, and it didn’t help that the father completely abandoned her. Patton and Logan matched with her in the adoption process when she was three months pregnant and it was quite the journey from start to finish

Roman & Remus Sanders:

Age: 8 (birthday June 14)

Pronouns: both he/him

Height: uh average

Both fairly tanned having spent over half their childhood in the sunlight, Roman has short dark mahogany brown hair and forest green eyes, Remus has longer, curly dark mahogany brown hair with jade green eyes, they both have dark freckles, Roman’s mostly on his cheeks while Remus’s are basically all over his body, and Remus has a gap in his extremely crooked teeth as well as green braces. Roman has all manner of Disney apparel, but he especially loves wearing his white Mickey Mouse shirt with the long red sleeves, and he’s also unafraid to wear traditionally “feminine” clothes like dresses and skirts. Remus... prefers not wearing clothes at all honestly but Logan and Patton insist on it, so he tries to wear as few clothes as possible, usually his neon green tank top and dark brown cargo shorts

They’re very different from each other but they do have similarities and can work well together. They pretty much never admit it but they do love each other despite their differences and near constant bickering.

They’re both dramatic, but in somewhat different ways. Roman is dramatic in that way that’s like “I’m literally tinkerbell because you have to give me attention or I’ll die”, while Remus is more like “this little tiny thing inconvenienced me so I’m gonna overreact and formulate murder plans against whoever/whatever dare make my life unbearably difficult”. They’re also both very creative, but of course they have different views on creativity (I doubt I need to get into specifics). They also both love Disney, but roman is more into classic Disney while Remus prefers Pixar

They both seem to exhibit traits of ADHD but haven’t been tested for it yet

They were around three years old when their mom and dad both died in a car accident. It was two years after that that Patton and Logan decided to adopt them both, despite only planning on adopting one child. Virgil was a year old at this time, and they wanted an older kid, and they ended up with two. And really that was fine by them, they just knew that this was it; no more kids, at least for a little while

Janus REDACTED

Age: 15 (birthday February 3)

Pronouns: he/him/they/them

Height: 5’7”

Medium length light golden brown hair, two different coloured eyes (right - cognac, left - chartreuse), fair skinned with a red birthmark taking up most of the left side of his face, missing right leg where he had to get an above-the-knee amputation, which causes him to need forearm crutches, he usually wears clothes that cover as much of his body as possible, and he oftentimes - if not constantly - wears foundation and concealer to hide his birthmark, although Patton and Logan insist it’s not necessary

He tends to avoid people when possible, since he’s developed quite the trust issues over the years. Going from foster home to foster home has made it difficult to allow himself to get close with anyone. In spite of this, he always seems to find himself bonding with the kids in his foster families. Especially the Sanders family when they first took him in (their original plan was to simply foster him... that plan fell through as they very quickly decided they wanted him to be part of their family)

Overall they’re a sarcastic cynic with a knack for storytelling, and while they seem cold and reserved on the outside, completely uncaring about the world around them, really deep down they just want to feel loved by someone, they want to feel accepted and like they’re really part of a family, like they’re actually wanted

They developed a bit of trauma from their birth family situation but a lot of it has been worked out, although they still have issues to work through even after all this time

They were ten when their dad got blackout drunk, forced them and their mom into the car, and started driving. Janus still has no idea where he was trying to go, but they never made it. They got into a monumental car accident, and Janus was lucky they made it out alive, although it costed them their leg. Their mother died unfortunately and their father was on life support last they heard. They never found out if he woke up or if he was taken off of it, so they have no idea if their dad is dead or alive. They tell themself they don’t care, they don’t wanna know either way, but they do. They feel like they shouldn’t, since their dad hurt them and got their mom killed, but they did have fond memories of their dad, which made the entire situation that much worse

So yeah on the happiest of notes there’s the main fam-ILY!!! :,)

I might continue this post with descriptions of the entire extended family, who knows!!!! :D (let me know if I missed anything in the tags btw, although I reached the limit so oof if I did)