#this most likely won't happen but god could you imagine

[pomefioredove]

Hi, I saw that the requests were closed, but I wanted to share with you one of my thoughts, maybe even an idea. This looks more like an AU, but let's imagine that Maleanor is alive and her son brings his partner to meet her. How do you think she would react to the fact that her son's partner is a human? Considering that she hates humans, it would hardly be a happy meeting, but for the sake of her son, I think she would try to find a compromise. Of course, on my part, this would be a romanticization of the character, but I would like to think that after some time, she will treat her son's partner like her own child.

I think more about the logistics of malleyuu than I'd care to admit. even without Maleanor in the picture, there are many influential nobles and senators(?) in Briar Valley who would surely be opposed to Malleus choosing a human

while fae/human relationships aren't "forbidden" or even that uncommon at this point in history from what we know about Sebek, this is the future king of Briar Valley we're talking about. I can't imagine that having a human queen/king/monarch etc after thousands of years of a pure fae lineage wouldn't be a problem. at least for some. it would cause considerable unrest amongst the older fae, and most of the senate would object to it. but Malleus is... Malleus. it's an unstoppable force meets an unmovable object, and would cause political unrest no matter what. even if Yuu is perfect, even if Lilia takes their side, even if Malleus throws a temper tantrum that kicks off overblot 2.0...

tradition in a place like Briar Valley is... kind of important. in canon it's stated over and over again that Briar Valley is extremely old-fashioned and traditional, to the point where basic technology isn't available to most of the population (can I assume that most don't have electricity or running water, too?). I wouldn't be surprised if there's some ancient laws preventing humans marrying into the royal bloodline that would have to be overturned just so malleyuu could happen

I'm sure not everyone would have a problem with it, like I said, fae/human marriages aren't a taboo (thank god), but there will be a lot of fae who would. not only is Yuu non-royal, a commoner, but also a human, and a human who can't perform magic. not only will Yuu die long, long before Malleus does, but there's a chance their children, if they're able to have them, won't inherit any magic (is this a problem? well, not to me, and not to malleyuu, but to the senate and people of Briar Valley, I cannot doubt it would be)

but like I said, Malleus is Malleus. he's like a toddler, stubborn and selfish, he loves his toys and doesn't want to share them. if he truly falls in love with Yuu, and they love him back, there's surely nothing anyone could do to prevent him from marrying them. I dare say he'd sooner step down as heir to the throne than to give them up. he'd at least threaten to

this is like, period-drama type civil unrest. marie antoinette type civil unrest. the political and social ramifications of malleyuu are the most interesting part of their dynamic to me tbh!

as for Maleanor? I love her. and she would 100% be against malleyuu for the listed reasons. unstoppable force vs immovable object, again. but she also loves her son, and I do think she would warm up to Yuu eventually, just... with that lingering sense of dread

[hypertranced]

i need vi and jinx to be violently protective of each other so bad yall don't even get it

[frogchiro]

virgin sacrifice reader offered to war god ghost?? prepare to be his lovely wife instead of a sacrifice with at least 10 demigods running around, he wants to raise strong warriors!

Ghost would definitely be a god similiar to Ares; a god of war, brutality, bloodshed, masculinity and virility. Men go and pray by his shrine or in his dedicated temple to give them strength in both battle and bed, to be a strong and unbeatable warrior and be able to father strong, healthy children.

One such temple, the main one, is in a surprisingly remote location, surrounded not by a major city or capital but a few villages. According to myths it was this place where a brutal battle took place millenia ago where the fearsome god Ghost defeated an army all by himself, the blood of his slain enemies served to make the land fertile and for many villages to grow and prosper...until now.

Usually sacrifaces to appease the god would be made by the men of the villages; black stallions, the strongest bulls, wine, silver and pure steel, everything that has connections to masculinity and power, however some kind of horrible fatum seems to hang over your little village. The animals either die young or are sickly and weak, the wine turns out sour like vinegar, there in so money to buy anything either and it's taken as a curse by the elders. If nothing will be done and Ghost won't have his sacrifice who knows what will happen?

So they decide on the next best thing, a desperate last choice reach in hopes to appease the brutal god-a virgin sacrifice. The prettiest, unmarried and untouched young woman is to be chosen, dressed in the finest, gauzy silks and locked inside the stone temple in hopes that the god will come down and the blood of a slain virgin will calm his fury. Luck wasn't on your side it seems, you were chosen.

All you could remember were the desperate cries of your mother, the dissapointed remorseful look on your father's face and the ritual cleansing of the old crones in the village. You were cleaned in rose water, intricate patterns were drawn with a mixture of honey, mushed up berries and flowers on your breasts, around your nipples and bellybutton, and the most intricate was drawn on the place where your womb was. You were clothed in a white gauzy dress that was a symbol of your purity and then you were bound and dragged to the temple no matter how much you struggled and kicked and pleaded until you were finally locked in the dimly lit temple, only the many candles present to lighten the main chamber and to show the powerful, majestic sculpture of the god, Ghost.

Imagine crying yourself to sleep, everything hurt, you were scared and confused, all alone to die in this forsaken temple because some old men decided on it. Falling asleep out of exhaustion, the images of your crying, terrified mother haunting you even when sleeping.

Imagine waking up and instead of feeling cold and sore from sleeping on the unforgiving stone floor, and instead finding yourself laying on and under the most luxurious furs you've ever seen, the warmth of them felt like a blanket and the smell of them, pleasant warm masculine musk made a shiver run down your spine, just where were you?

Before you had the chance of looking around the room, you felt huge, strong arms clamping togehter around you and bringing you into a powerful, broad chest which rumbled with a growl like purr and a stern voice saying:

"Stay. Don't move around girl."

And the very same arms turned you gently around to face the man behind you and you couldn't help but gasp and breath out a tiny, frightened yelp-behind you was laying a man who looked like the stone sculpture of Ghost cane to life and became human. It...it was Ghost. You laid next to a god.

[yzzart]

── ★｡𖦹°‧ KENJI SATO SEEING THE SCRATCHES ON HIS BACK .ᐟ

୭˚. ᵎᵎ content warnings: mention of sex, oral, back scratching, sexual content.

⭑.ᐟ Everything happened, properly, while Kenji was getting ready to mark his presence, alongside the team, heading to the arena for the match later on. — Coach Shimura ordered him to appear early, something that bothered the player. — Sato didn't need this, it was something dispensable, and he was forced to agree.

⤷ Due to the fact that he was unfortunately removed from your side; unable to cling to your body, cling to your touch or worship, lasciviously. — Longing to feel you once again; even though he had done this moments ago, he was still insatiated by you. — God, just by clicking his tongue, your taste reached his palate.

⭑.ᐟ Getting up from the bed, half-heartedly and with little enthusiasm, and admiring your serene and moderate image as you rested, Kenji fought the urge to ignore the order and lie down next to you; unfortunately and evidently, the sense of responsibility spoke louder.

⤷ And, knowing you like the back of his hand, Kenji knew you would disapprove of him if he did that. — Like a good boyfriend, he wouldn't make you upset.

⭑.ᐟ On his walk to the bathroom, assuming that he could put an end to the indolence that coursed through his body, Sato did not fail to feel some burning pains, small discomforts in his back, awkwardly running his hand around the area. — Ignoring, for now, the mental questions and went to the mirror.

⭑.ᐟ Kenji could already imagine the coach's voice echoing, unbearably, in his ears, scolding him for arriving at least a few minutes later than expected; and he was already reasoning out the most understandable excuse in his mind. — Or he would just say "don't worry, it won't hinder our competence", no, better not; but deep down he would like to say that.

⭑.ᐟ In front of the mirror, which showed his hair, in pure disarray and mess and his discouraged face, feeling bored, but, enigmatically, seductive, Kenji is worried, once again, about the discomforts of his back. — While uttering incoherent mumbles and swear words and directing his hand towards his skin for the second time, Sato allowed himself to turn towards the reflective glass, wanting to know what was bothering him so much.

⤷ And that's how he came across your art.

⭑.ᐟ Kenji's eyes examined, in fact, venerated with prudence and eccentric attention the marks, made by your nails, prominent and so protruding and, at the same time, deliciously burning exposed on his back; expressing an exotic, inconceivable and voluptuous sexual countenance. — The red lines, which blended into the tone of his skin, burned him both physically and mentally.

⤷ He couldn't imagine — oh, this cynical, shameless man believed it — that there was a small, furtive possessive streak coursing through your blood as you yearned, longed, to mark him.

⭑.ᐟ His fingers moved, still in disbelief, over a part of the skin he could reach, and he felt the current protuberances there and Kenji's lips couldn't stop themselves from forming a slutty, depraved smile. — He fucking loved what he was seeing, maybe more than he should have.

⤷ The moans, whimpers, and murmurs, that begged with desire for more, that came out of your beautiful mouth cried out in Kenji's mind; remembering, again, them like a song lyric he had memorized. — Sato began to identify a pulse, a throbbing in his dick and a wave of excitement flood his chest.

⭑.ᐟ Your boyfriend didn't care how fast he had to get to the arena, he would miss the time anyway, and then he contemplated what was captivated about him. — Showing off his corpulent, athletic back, wanting to see the marks better and not wanting them to disappear from view. — Kenji would beg for more of them later, he was sure of it.

⤷ Well, you better pray your nails don't break.

[pr0cyon-lotor]

AU where instead of Shen Yuan being obsessed with Luo Binghe, he's instead obsessed with the scum villain himself. I mean we all know Bingge is Very Not Good Person™ but you know who else a Very Not Good Person™? Say it with me: Shen Jiu

Like just imagine a timeline where Shen Yuan is writing paragraph after paragraph about how Shen Qingqiu might actually be a good person but Airplane is wasting his potential. The other commenters are saying he's delusional because he abused the protagonist and as all these TERRIBLE allegations towards him. So he's a clear cut villain.

But Shen Yuan is defending his fav with the vigor of a devout worshipper. He's constantly siting parts that are obvious plot holes and how they could give much needed context to Shen Qingqiu's character.

Other people are demanding for worst things to happen to Shen Qingqiu to spite him. Airplane caves. Shen Yuan actively commissions art and fics where Shen Qingqiu is happy. People tell him "Shen Qingqiu won't fuck you bro"

Shen Yuan isn't interested in that. He's a freaky little man with freaky little likes. He'd gladly take Shen Qingqiu's cold glares and even volunteer to have tea poured on him.

When he finishes PIDW, he's been outraged that Shen Qingqiu was killed off a while back. He's even more outraged that Shen Qingqiu wasn't given any mention at the end.

Now, imagine with me that he gets transmigrated into some NPC, literally Unimportant Character No°5. Probably as the head disciple for drama reasons. And as soon as Shen Jiu is brought in, scruffy and hissing as he is. He immediately hugging his thighs and saying he'll be peak lord for sure.

Please follow me into this suspicious alleyway as I continue to explain my vision fueled by sleep deprivation.

So now imagine your Shen Jiu. You're a former street rat and demonic cultivator, you aren't expecting to be liked or respected. You're expecting it, you've come to terms with it a long time ago. What you weren't expecting was for this random ass guy you have to call da-shixiong is immediately insane about you.

He met you first day, literally saw you bite a guy, and immediately started spouting out how you'll be the next peak lord and the absolute envy of Cang Qiong Mountain. You conclude he's missing a few screws because he said it in the most disgustingly sincere way.

You try to continue on with your life, trying to beat him and he looks almost... Excited about you beating him. So he's an M, you think to yourself. But then you see someone trying to beat him or you on something, and this guy immediately gets aggressive. Okay so he's just weird with you.

You continue to deal with him. He's weird but also weirdly respectful. He leaves if you tell him to leave. He defends you like it's his very birth right. He's always there to tend to you as if you were a god. He doesn't touch you and only sits around like a dog waiting for a command.

You eventually get strong enough to beat him, and this absolute buffoon is over the moon about it, already spouting about your supposed success again.

When you actually become peak lord, it isn't surprising. Your hype man has been saying it since day one, he was expecting it for some reason. He continues to spout out nonsense about how he just knew you were going to do it.

So what now? You obviously desire him carnally. What is the next step?

Okay so I know this wouldn't fix them. Almost without question this would make they both worse. But, hear me out, it would be funny. (Especially since just know Shen Yuan's entire inner monologue would be him saying he's just being a good friend as if he isn't being the gayest man in the sect and Shang Qinghua is there. That's an accomplishment to outgay the author)

[sugar-plum-writer]

Company Cam-Girl <3

Tags: Gang-bang [Toji, Sukuna, Gojo and Suguru]; Use of toys [vibrator]; slight-bondage; size-kink; camera; public-exposure; nsfw + more nsfw; porn with slight plot; manhandling; unprotected sex; spanking; over-stimulation; cream pie; c*mplay; rough sex; lot's and lot's of very dirty talk; explicit; MNDI!; (18+); smut

A/n: This is probably the most explicit thing I might have written; my hazy imagination is getting too much. This period is killing me so it's just pure filth, this is pure porn with a little plot so MDNI!

Synopsis: What happens when a slight back talk results in getting railed and over stimulated like crazy by 4 big men in the sex-toy company?

Word count: 2.6k

[Pic not mine I randomly found it on the internet; I'll change it the owner requests ]

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked, the place you worked was- explicit to say the least. You would have never expected to work in a company like this when you graduated- literally; a sex toy manufacturing company? beyond your wildest dreams

You were working here all because of pure desperation. Broke with college debts does not make life easy. The position gave good pay, insurance, good bonus, what else could you ask for? hence you continued working.

You worked in the marketing department which was a headache as it sometimes made you wonder how to advertise certain devices.

"Y/n- the manager is calling you to discuss the latest high-intensity vibrator ad!", one of your colleagues yelled giving you the papers and walking away

You looked at the paper which outlined the build, the components, the types of intensity, movements, etc normal people would look away and even be embarrassed but- after a while, it became average to you like another Tuesday.

"Alright, tell him I'll be there, " you yelled, browsing the pages as you entered the office.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"This design is so outdated… we need a new design-", Suguru muttered as he sat at his desk scrolling annoyed, the cigarette hanging off his lips

Toji clicked his tongue as he leaned back on his chair, "Damn if only we could experiment it on someone and record everything down", his deep voice sent a shiver down your spine

"I could always get a hook-up to try it out~", Gojo muttered with a smirk, "I don't mind"

"You fools", Sukuna scorned, "A hook-up won't give accurate data- her fucking brain will just be mushy, ask any questions-", he rolled his eyes, "her replies will just be fucking moans"

"Don't any of you have a girlfriend or somethin'?", Toji groaned as he grabbed his beer bottle, drowning it down, "You can get her and we can experiment"

"Nah- I asked my ex once she nearly threw a god-damn vase at my face", chuckling Gojo scrolled through his phone

"Ah, shit-"

With a groan, they collectively sighed. The atmosphere in the room was tense- after all, they were your superiors, you were just a mere girl from the PR department

"um- excuse me", clenching the papers tight you looked at them all, "T-The documents have an error-", you tried to keep your voice stable

"Oh shut up woman", Sukuna glared as he walked towards you, "Can't you read the room? or are you senseless?"

"Huh-?", rage-filled your veins, you were already annoyed with overwork- been working so hard not to let it get to you but this- this was the last straw.

"You are the senseless one!", you snapped back, "You assholes can't even design a vibrator properly! Look at you discussing this shit!", you scorned and shoved the paper on Sukunas face as you glared at the others

"What did you just say you fucking bitch-", Sukuna grabbed your jaw pinning you against the wall

"You deaf?", glaring into his eyes you scoffed, "I said you assholes cannot even design a fucking vibrator"

"Yo, calm down", Gojo yelled as he made his way towards you and Sukuna

"Fuck off-", his grip on you tightened choking you

"What a pain in the ass", Toji grabbed Sukuna with Suguru and pulled him back

"Tch", groaning he let go of you while Gojo picked up the fallen papers

"You alright?", Sugurus eyes locked with yours- something about his cold black eyes- gave you goosebumps all over your skin

"Y-Yeah" Gasping for air you coughed as you looked at Sukuna who was starting to calm down more

"You said we can't design a vibrator, right?" Toji smirked with a dangerous glint in his eyes

"Y-Yeah..", You backed away afraid. Something about his expression makes you instinctively back away as if your body subconsciously tried to protect itself

"Why not be our test subject? we lacked one anyways~", with a sneer he leaned in. The atmosphere in the room changed as all eyes were on you.

"Your fool brain finally came up with a good idea", grinning Sukuna fixed his blazer, "What do you say woman? or are you too scared?"

"W-What!? no way never!", you immediately shook your head shaking it crazily

"Awwww come on~ it'll be fun I promise!", Gojo nudged you wrapping his arm around your shoulder

"No way!", slapping his hand away you glared

"See you said we can't design good vibrators", putting out the cigarette in his mouth Suguru shrugged, "Have you ever even used one of our vibrators to know if it's bad? ever cummed dripping wet?"

You blushed hard, "W-what explicit nonsense are you even saying!?", shoving the papers on his face you scowled

"Oh~ is someone scared?" smugly Sukuna leaned in and whispered near your ears, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine

"N-No I'm not! It's just a vibrator!", shoving him away you tried to push the men away

"Great!", standing behind you Gojo wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close, "I'll even let you try out my new designs baby~"

"Hey! Bun-head, grab the newest vibrators and bring them here", Sukuna yelled, "We found a pussy to try it on!" he chuckled deviously

"What-!?" before you could say anything Toji cut you off, "Bring some lube too, I just know she's tight as fuck", smirking he looked into your eyes

"Alright, alright- I'll even bring a camera to record it. Need the data", with this- Suguru went to get all the items whistling

All while you stood stunned- how did you even end up like this? How did a small comeback develop to- well- this?!

"You did it to yourself, baby girl, ~ if only you hadn't opened that darn mouth of yours", with a chuckle Gojo whispered near your ears

"oh well, I'll look after you well~"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Is the Pussy visible?" Gojo leaned in as he looked at the screen of the camera

"Yeah, just gotta zoom in more", Suguru adjusted the camera, the RBG ratio, etc as he zoomed in

With your legs spread apart on Sukunas desk- your panties are removed as your cunt's all visible in the camera. Rather than an office it looked like a porn production set.

"Hm…she's tight", Toji looked at your cunt, "I wonder when's the last time she got fucked", Sukuna muttered

"Shut up!? what the fuck do you think you are even saying-", embarrassed you looked at both of them annoyed, "Just by looking at my- my pussy you think you can say such things?"

"Doll, I have seen enough to know what pussy has not been fucked and how well it was fucked", chuckling Sukuna smirked

Hearing Sukuna's comment Toji, Gojo and Suguru snickered

"Damn right", smiling smugly Suguru stood up and walked towards you

"You-", too stunned to speak you just lower your head, "How can they say such things!?" you think as you take a sharp breath blushing; almost embarrassed with the explicitness but it was low-key hot.

You hated to admit it but you were aroused as fuck. The cool air brushed against your cunt making the walls quiver, 4 hot guys gazing at you as they discuss what's the best way to record your pussy holding vibrators in the office. It made you get even more wet with your cunt oozing out and dripping, making a mess on Sukuna's desk.

"Look she's already dripping and making a mess how cute~ how needy", Gojo chuckled

"Well can't leave her like this can we?" with a smirk rolling up his sleeves Sukuna started circling his fingers around your clitoris- flicking it a bit making you gasp

"W-wait!" trying to stabilize yourself at the sudden wave of pleasure you try to focus elsewhere, your hands and body trembled at the way he abused your clitoris

"Where's your mind goin'?" Toji cups your breasts and starts kneading them, pinching and flicking the nipples making you squirm and moan

"T-Toji wait ah-" your eyes widen as your feel Sukunas fingers do deeper stretching you out ruthlessly, "She's tight- Fuck", he gritted his teeth

Tossing your head back you try to cover your mouth but it was instantly pulled away by Toji, "Can't have you cover your mouth now can we sweetheart?", smugly he pulled your shirt up and tied your hands with it

"Nice boobs you got here", Gojo brushed his hand against your breasts, fondling them, "I wonder how hard the nipples can get heh~", smirking he brought his lips closer to your nipples and started sucking on them making you moan even louder, "Gojo- ah! 'tis too much wait-!" earning only a chuckle from him as he sucked even harder biting it

"The Vibrator No 1 is ready~ let's see how well you take it darling", smirking Suguru stood beside Sukuna- turning the vibrator on and putting it down on your cunt grinding it, the movements so good you felt you were on cloud 9; while Sukuna continued to move his fingers deeper stretching you out.

"Smile for the camera doll", smirking Sukuna slapped your pussy which stinged a bit but also made you so fucking wet it was embarrassing

The intense stimulation from the vibrator immediately made you arch your back, toss your head back and let out the loudest moans you could muster, it was stimulating- too stimulating.

It was too much- your poor pussy could not stand so much abuse. It was all puffy, sobbing wet, begging for mercy as it dripped and oozed pre-cum. Tears stained your cheeks as you whined and moaned

Your breasts were off even worse, the biting and sucking of Gojo had swollen your nipples so much. The bite marks covering your breasts stung but also gave you so much pleasure wanting more

"Fuck- who knew we had such a natural cam-girl?", licking his lips Toji just watched your expressions hungrily wanting to devour you

"I know right? Should have fucked her and filled her up first", chuckling Suguru increased the intensity of the vibrator to it's highest limit making you gasp and moan, squirm all at once, "Let's see how loud she can scream eh?"

"Oh my God! it's too much ah-" tossing your head back you squeezed your thighs shut as your eyes rolled back and you climaxed instantly because of the intensity

"Stay still, how bratty", slapping your thighs Sukuna spread your legs open forcefully holding them down, his fingers covered in your release, "Heh- who said the vibrator was bad huh? look at the amount of cum", smirking he licked it off his fingers making you blush harder and be even wetter.

"D-Don't-!" you frantically tried to wipe your cum off his fingers too bad Toji held your arms down all tied up

"I wanna taste some too~", licking his lips smugly Gojo with a quick movement shoved his fingers inside your cunt and licked it

"How sweet I can eat her out forever~ Try some Suguru"

"Oh don't mind if I do~"

Seeing them taste your cum from their fingers made you almost lose your mind and your brain felt mushy. The camera still recording everything that they were doing to you. It was so crazy

"Hah- finally stretched out, what a good fucking pussy", Sukuna smirked satisfied

"We can finally put the vibrator in~ shall we put two?", Gojo chuckled as he gazed at your cunt

"I think she can take it~" smugly Toji looked you in the eyes, "She's such a good girl after all. Aren't you baby?"

"Well" with a sneer Suguru finally put the vibrator inside you with the highest intensity, "Let's see what she can do, go at it girl show what you got~"

Hungrily they all gazed at you, their eyes those of starving wolves who wanted to completely devour you, fill you up- breed you so fucking well like the way you deserve. You had no idea what a raging boner they had seeing you and your cunt.

"Oh my god- ah- hah~", moaning you squirm as the vibrator continued to hit all the right spots- making your whole body-shake, your walls clenching so tight- holding on for dear life; "Fuck it's so good!", biting your lips you closed your eyes as you felt your brain going numb.

It felt like it was designed specifically for you, the way it hit your G-spot was driving you mad. It kept pushing you over the edge again and again.

"Shit", biting his lips Sukuna approached you, his hard-on evident, bulging fully, so big it made you wonder if it would even fit.

"Moaning like a whore just from a mere vibrator", unbuckling his pants he removed the vibrator making you sequel and whimper

"Guy's let's give her the best fuck of her life shall we?", smirking he positioned himself to your entrance and slammed in without warning, doing deep, hard and fast thrusts- hitting your G-spot again and again

"Fuck, so good, shit how was I missing out on such good pussy"

The vibrator already broke your brain in the beginning and now feeling Sukuna fuck you, so big- so hard- filling you up so well drove you even more over the edge. Your throat had gone dry from all the moaning

Toji, Gojo and Suguru also unable to keep their hand to themselves any longer; unbuckled their belts with their hard on started jerking off standing beside you, letting out grunts and moans imagining fucking you. Making you suck on their dicks like the good girl you were.

Seeing how big they all were you wondered how your poor cunt will ever be able to take them all inside.

Your vision was going white with all the pleasure as you clenched around Sukuna's dick, squeezing him so tight he tossed his head back pussy drunk just wanting to feel you all around him.

You don't know many hours went by all you know is they all took their turns fucking you- in all positions, filling you up with their cum; praising you and telling how much of a good girl you are, how well you are taking them.

You were fully- completely knocked out and brain fucked. The office fully messy from the desk to the couch and all vibrators gone.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The next moment you wake up, sharp pain shoots up and down your body as you groan.

"Oh look who woke up, our cam-girl", chucking Toji sat beside you while the others crowded around you

That's when everything hit you all at once and you look down finding yourself completely and utterly naked.

"You took us all in so well baby~ my dicks never been more satisfied", Gojo lifted you making you sit on his lap and kissed your neck

"S-Shut up! I need to go!" you blushed hard and tried to stand up but tripped

"What a brat, you really think you can stand? how annoying, you were better brain fucked", Sukuna immediately grabs you supporting you to not fall

"You!-" feeling your blood boil you immediately try to open your mouth to yell all kinds of profanities

"Oh she's awake", Suguru entered the room smirking, "Still naked is she? are we going for another round? Because I am down"

"I'll die if we do another round!?" in panic you look at them all in the eyes earning a chuckle and a light slap on your ass from Sukuna making you whine

"Shut up you aren't going anywhere from today onwards you are our girl"

"Huh!?", you gasp in shock

"Everything we did is recorded", Gojo chuckled grinning, "Suguru even finished processing it darling~ thank you for your-", he tossed a vibrator to you and winked, "lovely data"

You stand utterly stunned knowing there is no way out from this, they'll eat you alive whenever they please. You are officially the company's cam-girl and test-subject.

Congrats on your promotion~ <3

My Masterlist!

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

Imagine: Taking the Pennyworth name instead

(just short for now I'll work with this after I finished my deadline)

I'm thinking of a small AU for this but I always thought what could happened if Reader was an Isekai or regressed in a Neglected batfam fic?

Reader knowing what happens to the story or her future life with these people and they just straight up planned something to stay far away from the family without causing them to become yandere or obsessed with them.

If reader think it through and most possible solution is to stay at the mansion and be discreet as possible.

And the most I could think of is just get adopted by Alfred instead, bcs why not? You get to stay at the mansion, you won't have the Wayne name on you for reasons that maybe you resent the thought of being called a Wayne.

And even if for a short while you can feel like you belong, not as a child of a rich asshole who becomes a vigilante that runs around 'his' city to do his nightly fight with criminals that just keep multiplying because god only knows he has more patience and time for them that his neglected child who rots in an old house that makes the child feel it's their own Arkham Asylum.

Not to be related to a bunch of bitchy brothers and sisters who thinks they're far more important or involved in the family and never thought that just because they 'died' multiple times your trauma weights lesser than them, just because yours is far more tame doesn't mean you don't get to deserve a little love too.

(This is just me putting myself in the reader's shoes because that's really what I do to most of the x reader fics I make)

Imagine reader just straight up ask Alfred is they could be his child or grandchild instead.

"Adopt me". Alfred stop himself from tipping the teapot when he heard a small tiny voice below him.

The butler looks down and sees the old yet younger addition to the family stare at him from below holding an- wait a minute is that a real adoption papers??

--- Tune in next time to when will I finished this fic before another sh8y day intercept this again---

ALFRED PENNYWORTH SUPREMACY RISE UUPPPPPPP!!!!!!

(some of you might wonder why I'm fixating on Alfred being reader's grandfather/father, it's very simple I just miss my grandfather and Papa so now u know, I'm pretty sure no one wondered but here you go anyway hahahaha)

[ceoofglytchell]

Butterfly

Summary: That fateful night on Driftmark Aegon has made a promise to you, one that he has even once never forgotten, while you were gone. However now six years later you return to him and- gods be good- he is going to make that promise a reality and he most certainly won't let you leave him another time.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader

Word count: 4214 words

Warnings: incest, Reader is described of having Strong like features, Reader is Rhaenyra's and Harwin's second child, fluff, angst, longing, thoughts of major dubcon (it’s only a thought and does not really happen), kinda miscommunication, hurt/comfort, allusions to smut, aegon being miserable, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I was not feeling good last week, but I am back now with this piece here, but I’m not sure if it’s good. But, as always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated and please remember that english is not my native language. Enjoy 💛

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"I promise that one day I will marry you."

Never once in your life have you forgotten the promise that your uncle Aegon had given you six years ago on the shores of Driftmark. Yes, he was drunk, and yes, he knew that your families would never let a union between the two of you come to be, but a boy could dream. At least that was how he had justified the vow later on when you had to separate the following morning.

You have always wished that your beloved uncle would fulfill his very promise one day, but unfortunately the chance got slimmer and slimmer the more years passed and the more protective your mother has gotten over you, because as Rhaenyra's first and only daughter nothing was easy.

You were born with brown curls and hazel eyes like your brothers, making the sin your mother had committed all the more obvious to anyone else, a walking reminder of her carelessness. However you were born much smaller in comparison to your brothers and even as you grew you remained petite and delicately looking, which caused Rhaenyra to fuss over you like a mother hen constantly, as if she feared you to be a porcelain doll that could shatter into a million pieces with just a touch. She certainly treated you this way.

Aegon however has always seen the watchful eyes and silent warning glances of his half-sister to be more of a challenge than an actual prohibition.

The prince had always been enamored with you, his little niece, but he has always bottled up all his hidden feelings for you within himself so it was only natural that one time where he had swallowed down cup after cup of dornish wine and you sat by him and held his hand after he had been scolded by his grandsire, the words spilled out of his mouth like a river.

He had barely been able to remember it the next morning, but as he saw the flush on your cheeks when he stood before you to say his goodbyes, he knew that you knew. It was either a curse or a blessing, but even as he had watched you leave with your mother, brothers, and a few of the servants, he had known that he would see you again one day and if he did, he would take you as his wife.

You were not sure what you had imagined when you and your family returned to King’s Landing after so many years to assure yourselves that Lucery's claim to the island of Driftmark was defined and would not be contested, but no matter how easy this task seemed to be on the first look, you quickly learned that this was not the case. Vaemond Velaryon and your great-aunt Rhaenys had also come.

However, their presence brought you less out of the concept than to see Aemond beating Ser Criston during sparring on the courtyard as if the man was nothing but a normal knight and not a loyal and trusted member of the King’s Guard. His cold look, when he had seen you and your brothers, made a shiver run down your back and a spark of fear set its roots within yourself, even if you had nothing to do with the tragic loss of his eye.

On that dark night you were with Aegon when it had happened. The older prince had drunken too many cups of wine and stumbled down the stairs that led down to the beach and hit his head. You had sat with him afterwards and watched over him, while he had clung to you as if you were the very last thing that kept him rooted to this world and that kept him from loosing himself to the darkness within his heart.

And then he had given you that promise. That one terrible promise that has been on your mind every single day, which had taken a special place in the depths of your heart. He had promised to marry you and you knew that he would do it, if you would get permission, which you doubted, however, because your mother wanted nothing to do with her half-siblings whatsoever.

You were reminded of said promise when you faced him again in the throne room after six long years; He and his family dressed in Hightower green and gold and you with yours in Targaryen red and black. The difference could not be greater and the tension that lay in the hall could be felt by everyone.

You tried to stick to your mother's words, you really did, but over and over again your warm gaze found his and every time you caught him staring right back at you, an unknown glimmer in his amethyst colored eyes, which you neither could nor wanted to explain.

However, things escalated quickly and your mother quickly pulled you out of the throne room by the arm, leaving the headless body of Vaemond Velaryon behind on the cold stone floor, for which your stepfather was responsible, the word 'bastards' echoing in your ears. It was not easy to be confronted with the truth after all these years, which your mother tried to hide so convulsively, although it was obviously in everyone's eyes and the entire realm knew the truth of your parentage.

Your shocked eyes found those from Aegon before you vanished behind the doors and you immediately knew that this was not the last time you would see him that evening- and you were right.

Your maids, who were also some of your closest friends at the same time, were currently dressing you for dinner when it suddenly knocked on the heavy wooden doors to your chambers, which still looked exactly the same before you had been forced to leave back then. Without having allowed him to come inside, Aegon stepped into the privacy of your old chambers, which were illuminated with flickering candles, whereupon the servants stopped tugging uncomfortably on your hair and stepped away from you, bowing their heads as was custom.

"You may leave us," you told the other women, whereupon they all looked at you with a questioning frown.

"But princess-" "Please, I can do it."

Neither you nor the maids knew really whether you meant your hair or the prince who stared at you without having lost a word so far, which was extremely untypical for your uncle. However, the cup of wine in his right hand was familiar and you immediately became painfully aware of how much you had missed him.

The moment the doors fell shut again and you both were alone in the room and actually stood in front of each other for the first time again in six years, a bright grin broke out on his face and he slowly took a few steps to get closer to you. "Welcome home, little butterfly."

You didn't know exactly what it was; the nickname, his voice, which had matured, or the fact that you finally looked at him again after such a long time, but you couldn't help but close the distance between you two and jump right into his arms.

Aegon was surprised for a brief moment, but he immediately returned your gesture and wrapped his arms around you as well and pressed your slender body tightly against his, burying his nose into your long brown curls, which were half put together into a braid, which was not finished, because you had sent your handmaidens out of the room as soon as you had laid your eyes on him.

He could hear how a quiet, content sigh escaped your lips, whereupon he felt himself relax in your embrace and he felt his grip around his golden cup of wine loosen slightly as if you were the sole cure for the addiction he had developed. After all these years and although you both have grown and changed, you still fit perfectly against him like the last piece of a puzzle that had finally found its rightful place.

"You cut your hair," you noticed with an audible smile in your gentle voice and you immediately snuggled closer to him as if the sole thought of being parted from him for a second time was unthinkable for you.

"And you have grown- if only a little."

You hit him playfully against his shoulder and leaned back a little so that you could look him into his lilac eyes, which you noticed no longer held the same glint as they had back then. In addition, deep dark circles under his eyes adorned his handsome face and he had become even paler, which was why you feared that you needed to worry about his health. He also looked very much tired. However, these little details did not change the fact that the man in front of you was as beautiful as he had been back then if not more.

"Still feisty, I see, butterfly."

"You did not forget it," you noticed with an almost melancholic smile on your rosy lips. Ever since you were children and a small white butterfly had landed on your head in the Godswood, which would happen two or three times more over time, he called you by the name of the animal, since you were probably just as fragile and delicate, you mused. At the beginning you did not really enjoy it, but over time you wanted to hear him say it over and over again- now too.

"Of course not. I would never forget you, my darling."

"Stop it." You looked down onto the ground so that he would not see the obvious blush on your cheeks, but he did regardless. As for you, he paid attention to everything, every little detail.

"I did not forget my promise to you either." The prince said and stroked with one hand over the length of your arm, which was covered by a silken red sleeve. Actually, you did not want to wear a red dress to dinner, as it would only illustrate the fronts between the two sides of your families, but your mother insisted on it. You personally have always preferred lighter colors.

"Really? You appeared to be very much... drunk when you gave it to me, Aegon." You carefully replied while you hesitantly grabbed his hand, the contact igniting a feeling of warmth in you, which you had been longing for as well.

"I was drunk, that much is true. However, I always am and I remember very well that I said that I would marry you."

"This was so long ago-" you said with a quick shake of the head, because you knew that time did not change anything about what he felt for you and what you felt for him. A marriage between the two of you would never be agreed to, even if you could not imagine marrying someone other than him. The hatred between the two sides of your family was just too big and your love would not mend the crack again.

"No, I am serious. Be my wife, please. There is no day that I did not think of you and wanted you to be by my side." He reached for your hands and held them firmly in his own as if that alone could convince you to marry him without further ado and preferably that evening right after having had dinner. He would not allow you to get betrothed, because then he would lose the opportunity to have the only person who has ever taken care of him and who has actually listened to what he had to say. If you were not there, he was miserable- the last few years have been proof of it.

On the other hand, you were completely perplexed and overwhelmed with the situation. You wanted him. He was the only one who had never treated you like a fragile doll or a mindless duckling, but just like a girl like any other and you liked that. You did not want to be considered weak by everyone- of all the dragons you rode Silverwing, by the gods, you were not weak. It was bad enough that you were a dragon rider and your mother did not allow you to ride as much as you would have liked.

Unfortunately, the truth was that Rhaenyra and Alicent would never agree to a union between him and you. They would rather die or burn in the seven hells and you wanted to save yourself the pain that would follow if you asked and the two older women would vehemently forbid it even if nothing spoke against it and it would actually serve to strengthen House Targaryen for future generations. Unfortunately, it was more likely that at some point he would marry one of the daughters of Lord Baratheon or his own sister Helaena and that you would have to marry Lord Cregan Stark eventually.

"You don't know me anymore. If you excuse me, my prince, I have to continue preparing myself for dinner now.”

With a jerk you pulled your hands out of his and sat down at your dressing table, trying to ignore him and push him away from you, because you would not be able to allow your feelings for him to bloom now and in the end you would have to spend your life with another. You would not be able to bear it. The prince looked at you with an expression of utter disbelief on his features, until then a flicker of anger crossed his gaze and he stormed out of your chambers without hesitation, the door falling shut so loudly that it made you flinch.

You just wanted to protect him as well as yourself.

Later at dinner you watched Aegon drowning himself in alcohol and staring at his plate without touching the food at all. Aemond, who sat on the other side of the table, stared at your siblings and you at all times, not letting you out of his sight, until it suddenly escalated and a single toast made everyone become aware of how fragile the bond that held your family together actually was.

Shortly afterwards, your mother informed you that you would return to dragonstone the very next morning and you felt right in your decision to have pushed away the man for whom you had deeper feelings for. It was better for both of you. At least that was what you kept telling yourself.

You told that to yourself when you came back to your rooms and found them empty and dark, you told yourself when you sat alone in front of the fireplace and loosened your braids, when you undressed, put on a light nightgown, and you kept repeating it to yourself when you climbed in bed at last and slowly began to fall into a peaceful sleep. You would not be able to bear the pain that would follow if you allowed yourself to actually be with him.

Aegon still felt the taste of dornish wine on his tongue and its effects clouding his senses when he stood in the middle of the night in the darkness of your bedchambers and stared down at your sleeping form in your bed, the moonlight that fell through the windows illuminating your soft features like you were the very image of the Maiden. He was slightly shaky on his feet and he was well aware that he should not be here, but he just could not control himself. Your rejection before dinner and the way you refused to speak a single word to him while you had sat beside each other had robbed him of his last bit of sanity and he just had to know what you felt.

He had a simple plan; slipping inside your rooms unnoticed, tainting your honor and showing his mother the proof of it in the morning, because then she would have to agree to a union just like his half-sister, since you would ruined for any other man. His plan had been so simple, he would just have to tear the blanket right of you, push your nightgown up to your hips and take his pleasure, but when he approached the edge of your bed and saw how peaceful you looked like sleeping, he could not bring himself to do it.

The prince felt a lump forming in his throat, his heart becoming heavy and he could not help but kneel on the floor next to the bed, while he buried his face next to yours in the pillow in the hope that you would not notice the tears of shame burning in his eyes. You should just sleep on and never find out that he was even here. He was a monster for even thinking of ruining you.

He sobbed into your plush pillows, his hands fisting the silken bed sheets tightly when he suddenly felt something stirring beside him on the mattress, but he did not raise his head just yet. He did not want to look you in the eye after what he had originally come for.

"Uncle? What happened?"

Your gentle voice was like a balm for his soul, but he still continued to quietly sob into your pillows. You did not even ask why he was here, but what had happened. Even now you took care of him, although you had wanted to distance yourself from him a few hours ago for a reason that he simply could and would not understand.

"What have I done? Why are you pushing me away from you? What has changed?”

You quickly rubbed the remnants of sleep out of your eyes and you began to caress his back with your small hands, which made a shiver run down his spine and the tears on his wet cheeks slowly started to dry because no new ones fell, at least not right now. Like always, your touch calmed him.

"Why are you here?" You asked him instead of giving him an answer to his previous questions, because you could not tell him the truth. To see how the man you loved cried on the edge of your bed because of something that you had done when you had actually just wished to protect him from that very pain was making your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. You did not want to feel this pain nor did you want him to experience it. What have you done?

"Don't go," he murmured and finally raised his head slightly again to look at you with his reddened, swollen eyes, even if the room was dark and both of you could barely make each other out in the dark.

"Don't leave me a second time, please. Not again... don’t do this to me."

You sighed and sat up in bed, because this was exactly what you had not wanted to happen. His sensitivity was no secret to you and you knew how much you meant to him and how much he meant to you. Your mother had decided that you would return to dragonstone and you could not argue against her decision after what had happened today at dinner. Your house was more fragile than ever and if the others were to find out what you felt for each other, it would be the stone that would set a giant chaos into motion. It would be the end of Haus Targaryen as you knew it.

"Go away, Aegon," you murmured and sat down in such a way that your knees were pressed against your chest and your arms were wrapped around your legs as if you wanted to give yourself a hug to comfort yourself.

“No, please ... darling, don’t," whimpered the older prince and climbed next to you on the soft mattress, desperately searching for your gaze and your closeness. He wanted to pull you into him, love you and never let you go again even for a small second, because you were the only thing in this world that gave him something akin to a glimmer of hope, a light in the deepest darkness of his broken soul.

"Butterfly…"

"Don't call me that!" You suddenly spat at him loudly, which immediately made him wince and made hot tears burn in his eyes once more, threatening to spill over his pale cheeks.

You have never been angry with him before. Never.

"I love you! Don't you see that? I love you so much, but I cannot live with the pain of loving a man that I cannot call my own.”

That was it. The words and the truth were out and he had heard them. His suffering broke your heart, but he deserved to hear these three words from you at least once. You loved him, you truly did, but a miracle would need to happen so that you would be able to live out your love. It was not his fault, nor was it yours, as it was the hatred that has been burning between your mothers for years- a hatred that would probably never vanish.

Aegon was speechless. For a moment he just shook his head in disbelief, which made his white curls fall over his forehead, but it did not prevent him from looking into your beautiful face and seeing in the desperate look in your dark eyes that you were serious. "But I already am yours, am I not?"

"Aegon..." Your shoulders sagged even further down and you pushed your legs even further against your upper body, the sight of it making him miserable, because he did not want to imagine what would have happened had he actually went through with his plan and he would have taken you without your consent and made you his without warning. You would probably have shouted and fought back and he could never have forgiven himself for it and you would never have forgiven him either. No, he was glad that he had not done it.

He carefully approached your trembling shape on the bed and he tenderly wrapped his arms around you and pressed you against him as firmly as he could. Now you started to sob into his shoulder bitterly and he started to slowly rock you back and forth, while he buried his nose into your brown hair like he had done earlier, because your scent always seemed to calm him down, but your hair was also a sign for everyone else that you should not exist and that you, being a bastard, would be monstrous by nature, but he could not care about that in the slightest. You were beautiful on the inside and outside and one day he would prove it to you- perhaps even tonight.

"Marry me?" Back then it was a promise, now it was a serious question and he meant it with every fiber of his body. You were meant to be his wife, even if your love would be a scandal in the eyes of the gods, but he has never been a religious man anyways.

"I can't, uncle, I can't."

Aegon started to place soft and slow kisses on the top of your head. He began his exploration on your hair, then wandered down to your forehead, brushing his lips over your eyebrows, over your cheeks, which were wet from the tears that you shed for him until he reached your own lips, which looked so soft and inviting that he could hardly hold back.

"Marry me." He whispered against your lips and he looked for your gaze to see what was going through your head. Your eyes had always been the mirror to your soul.

His voice, his pleading tone, his warm breath that stroked your face, and the sudden closeness to him was just too much for you.

You do not dare to say it, but a simple, barely noticeable nod on your part was enough and the prince kissed you as if his life depends on it, his hands wandering over every centimeter of your body while he gently pushed you to lay on your back and he hovered over you, not separating his mouth from you for even a split second.

The rest of the night you both drowned in a sea of desire and pleasure, years of wanting and yearning coming to its climax. At some point, his hands had sneaked under the fabric of your nightgown, undressed you, while you had returned the favor at the same time, whereupon he had not lost any time to show you what it would mean to be his wife and you enjoyed every single second of it.

Neither Aegon nor you really listened to the argument that followed the next morning after your maid had told Rhaenyra who she had found laying next to you in your bed and what had to have happened at night based on the red stain on your sheets. Insults got thrown around, voices became louder, but you merely snuggled closer to your lover, who protectively wrapped an arm around your waist and leaned his head to yours while a feeling of happiness flooded him.

You were his now and neither his mother nor yours could ever take you away from him ever again. It was too late for that now.

Love was often said to be the death of duty and Aegon Targaryen would not give a single shit about duty for the rest of his life if it meant he got to forever hold you in his arms like this and love you like you deserved.

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[wonbriiize]

bestfriend!Anton who puts you on his lap to give you affection, touches your hair, kisses you on the neck...being super clingy and fluffy :(

pairing; anton x reader

genre; fluff, best friends to lovers

note; i thought this was such a cute idea so i wrote something based on it.. hope u like it anon ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

listen to your heart

while working in retail isn’t all that horrible most of the time, you despise it over the holidays. everyone goes crazy as they search for last-minute christmas presents for their loved ones, friends or anyone else.

today was one of those days when everything was so annoying that you really thought about quitting your job right then and there.

luckily, your shift has ended and you are now on your way back home. you seem to be forgetting what a terrible day it has been so far as you imagine yourself curled up in your warm bed while drinking hot choco and watching your comfort movie.

“*y/n*, someone is waiting for you in your room,” your mom says after giving you a big hug when you arrive at home.

you‘re confused as to who it could be, until you recall that your best friend anton texted you saying he‘d drop by later as you were spamming him with messages about that one costumer who was extremely rude to you.

you run up the stairs to your room. you’re not so sure why you’re so eager to see anton, but you can’t help yourself. being with anton after a tiring day makes you feel at ease. he just has that effect on you.

“ohhh, slow down,” anton sits up on your bed. you can tell he made himself feel at home because just a second ago he was laying in your bed as if it was his own. “why are you running? is the rude customer after you?”

since you can’t tell anton that you hurried up to your room because of him, you just throw yourself on your bed. “no, i just really missed my bed. it has been an exhausting day.”

“and here i was hoping that you were running because you couldn’t wait to see me,” anton pouts, leaning back on your bed.

you’re right, you think. but i can’t let you know..

“well, apparently you were missing me because how are you at my house when i’m not even there?”

anton shrugs. “so what if i missed you, is it so wrong to miss your best friend?”

you’re shocked at how casually anton can say things like this. does he truly not realise how much of an impact his words have on you? it irritates you that he's saying these things and acting so dreamy when you're already trying to shake the thought that you like him — much more than you could ever imagine liking someone.

you sigh, laying down on your back. “i just really need to rest.”

“hey, come here,” anton pats next to him. “we can rest together.”

for a second, you’re not sure if you should really go and sit down next to him, because your feelings are all over the place today and you don’t know what could happen, but you push those thoughts aside and just go for it.

“you can lay your head on my lap. i will give you a head massage. i‘m a pro,” anton softly smiles at you.

god, he really isn’t making it easy to not fall in love with him, you sigh. your head is telling you not to do it, but for once in your life, you decide to listen to your heart instead.

you place your head gently on anton‘s lap. you’re afraid you won't be able to resist kissing anton if you open your eyes and see him staring down at you, hence why your eyes are closed.

anton starts massaging your head softly and you’re surprised at how good it actually feels.

“i didn’t expect you to be actually good at this,” you say.

“i told you i‘m a pro,” anton chuckles. hearing him giggle put a smile on your face and usually you would try to hide that, but right now, you’re just letting it happen.

“there it is,” anton whispers softly as he touches your cheek, causing you to open your eyes immediately.

“what?”

“your beautiful smile.”

you start laughing nervously. what’s his deal? why is he being extra sweet today?

“don’t say such things, anton.”

“why not?" his hand returns to your head, but instead of giving it a massage, he plays with your hair, twisting it around with his index finger.

“best friends don’t say that..” what you just said has a sad undertone, but you don’t care. maybe if anton knows that he’s kind of playing with your feelings, he will stop being like that.

anton shakes his head. “no, they don’t.. but here’s the thing, *y/n*..”

the sudden change in the atmosphere makes you nervous so you sit up. still close to anton, but there’s a little distance between the two of you now.

“i‘ve been trying to tell you for the longest time that i don’t want to be just best friends with you,” anton blurts out. “i thought it was obvious that i like you.”

world stop. anton likes me?

“but everytime i try to make a move you put me back in the friendzone, saying things like ‘best friends don’t do that..”

with a sincere expression of sadness that makes your heart hurt, anton glances down at his hands.

“i guess you really don’t like me in that way and i was just stupid to to think that-”

refusing to let anton continue, you take hold of his hand and place it directly over your heart.

“do you feel this?” you whisper.

anton nods unsure.

“my heart beats this fast everytime i‘m with you.”

“is that a good or a bad sign?” anton pulls his hand away and looks questionably at you.

his question makes you laugh. “of course it’s a good sign.. it means that you’re the reason why my heart feels so alive.”

“oh,” anton nods, a little smile forming on his face. “so you do like me.”

now it’s you who’s nodding.

just a while ago you didn’t want anton to know how you really feel about him because you were so afraid that the feeling was one-sided, but now that you know it’s mutual, you’re ready to take the initiative.

you slip closer to anton and sit down on his lap. first he’s surprised at your sudden move, but then you feel his arms around your waist, holding you close to him.

seconds later, your lips meet his. not only was your heart racing faster than before, but because your bodies were so close, you could literally feel anton‘s heart racing as well.

you weren't expecting it, but as anton plastered kisses all over your face and neck, things heated up quickly. you didn't want him to stop, but knowing that your parents could walk into your room at any point made you want to go slowly.

“maybe we should continue this when we are alone, like completely,” you whisper as anton was kissing your neck.

“hmmm,” kiss. “maybe..” kiss. “you‘re..” kiss. “right.”

he stops, looking at you with the biggest smile on his face.

“this big smile looks good on you,” you put your arms around antons neck.

“and you know why i’m smiling like this? it’s because of you,” anton softly whispers before he plants another kiss on your lips.

[cutieeva]

God Of The Chisel

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 Female Reader

Warnings : Manipulation. Detail Sex. Rape.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

��� 見る人 目の ❜

Sculpture. Molding soul into a form, where art meets emotions. That's the definition for (Y/N), the reason of her learning it, the motivation of her creating such art because she can release her emotions through it yet what happens if she has to create the most beautiful sculpture in the entire world, a sculpture who fell for his own sculpturor.

"So, (Y/N) senpai what sculpture are you going to do this time ?" Itadori Yūji asked clearly excited for his senior's new otherworldly addition to arrive.

"I have no idea this time". She answered, a deep sigh slip her lips as her (E/C) eyes continue to stare at the thin poster of competition.

"Why though ? You are a genius in our major or should I say in Cutieeva university". Kugisaki Nobara replied, chewing the thin end of her paintbrush. "Right Megu-chan ?" The said boy, Fushiguro Megumi nod senselessly busy creating his own carving.

"Look, the competition has clearly said the participators has to sculpture the most beautiful creation the world has yet to seen out of their perspective imaginations and the winner would only be who's sculpture is most well loved by the audience not even judges or critics !!" (Y/N) explained re-reading the poster. "If my art didn't seem beautiful enough to normal eyes than it will be pure humiliation ! Not only for me but for other participators too ! Because it indirectly suggest that us all elite students of art isn't yet good enough to be approved by daily to daily audience only capable to approve to the mediocre judges who stuck by rules and that we are worthlessly wasting money". She expressed her further worries.

"Oh ! I didn't knew it was that deep". Yuji glib laughed.

"Shut up !" Nobora nudged the boy seeing (Y/N) dug fingers on her scale as if she desire to rip hair from the roots.

"(Y/N)-san do not worry. Art is a way to release your emotions not for others to ridicule". Getō Suguru smiled, walking into the art studio earning all four student's attention. "No pressure should be felt or else the art won't be as nearly beautiful as it could be if you do it like you did in the past".

"But Suguru sensei I can't stand the humiliation of losing in front of others so bluntly". Shamefully she down her head.

"Then mold it". (Y/N) tilted her head.

"What do you mean ?" Geto smiled wider.

"Mold your frustration, anger, disappointed, fear on the clay. Use your vivid imagination of horrors and your version of beauty on the sculpture. Use this gift of sculpting to release your emotions so you can at least create something because without creating how can you refine it in the first place ?" The art teacher thoroughly described his most talented student who nod feeling a bit light yet uncertain.

"Also those monkeys are called monkeys for a reason if they don't understand your brilliant art". He added causing Yuji to chuckle.

"They are humans as you, sensei". Megumi mutter loud enough for each to hear.

"Also Fushiguro-San not forget I will be there to inspect your sculpture".

"I know".

"I am reminding it. Just in case". Geto merely smiled at the black head boy glaring at him making other three laugh.

"Ha ! Thank you Suguru sensei and megumi-Chan ! I will do my best". She raised her closed fist in the air.

"Thank us too !" Yuji yelled.

"Thank you Yuji-chan and nobara-chan too". She added giggling at their childish antics finding a new spirit to work with even though in the back of her mind she wonder what will be the result of her emotions molding the clay will be.

In a quiet, isolated white room (Y/N)'s fingers wrapped around the cool, damp clay, she felt an surge of creative energy coursing through her veins. With unwavering focus, she closed her eyes, surrendering to the depths of her imagination. In the darkness, a vision began to take shape— the most breathtakingly beautiful form her mind could conjure. With each gentle touch, the clay yielded to her will, as if alive and responding to her every thought. Her hands moved deftly, sculpting the body, hands, arms, and every delicate detail, just as she envisioned. Time stood still as she became one with the creative process, lost in the pool of her imagination.

Hours passed, or perhaps only moments – (Y/N) was oblivious to the world around her. Her entire being was consumed by the artistic expression unfolding beneath her fingers. Finally, she opened her eyes, and her gaze fell upon the emerging masterpiece. Almost half of the body had taken form, and she gasped in wonder, grasping the clay as if to ensure it was real. A soft smile spread across her face as she realized that whatever she was creating was going to be breathtakingly beautiful – a true reflection of the vision that had possessed her. The clay seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if infused with the essence of her imagination. (Y/N)'s heart swelled with excitement, knowing that she was crafting something extraordinary, a testament to the transformative power of art.

As the day succumbed to the allure of twilight, (Y/N) remained entranced, her fingers moving with a life of their own. The setting sun cast a warm orange glow upon her workspace, but she didn't notice. The stars began to twinkle like diamonds in the night sky, and the moon rose high, bathing the world in a soft, ethereal light. Yet, she continued to create, oblivious to the passage of time. Hours melted away, and the night deepened, however (Y/N)'s focus never wavered. Her body seemed to forget its needs – hunger, fatigue, and thirst became distant memories. Her sole purpose was to bring forth the masterpiece unfolding before her. The clay appeared to respond to her every touch, as if a divine force had taken residence within her.

With each delicate stroke, the sculpture evolved, gaining refinement and nuance. (Y/N)'s hands moved with a precision that bordered on reverence, as if she were channeling the essence of the divine. The air around her seemed to vibrate with creative energy, and the clay itself appeared to pulse with an otherworldly life. In this state of flow, (Y/N) became one with her art, transcending mortality. Her soul merged with the sculpture, infusing it with a spark of the divine. The boundaries between creator and creation blurred, and she became the deity, shaping the clay with an omnipotent touch. Time lost all meaning as she worked tirelessly, sleepless and unrelenting, driven by an insatiable passion to bring forth perfection.

As the next day dawned, her fingers moved with a newfound sense of purpose, her fingers deftly shaping the final details of her masterpiece. The sculpture stood before her, a magnificent form born from her unwavering dedication. Yet, one crucial element remained— the face, the window to the soul, where expression and emotion would breathe life into her creation. Thus, she was about to move to add details when the sun's warm, golden light danced across her art, her (E/C) eyes gaze locked onto her creation, and she felt the weight of reality settle upon her. The world around her snapped into focus, and she beheld her masterpiece in awe.

Transfixed, she reached out a trembling hand to touch the sculpture, as if to ensure it was truly real. However her body finally acknowledged its limits, her legs buckled, and she sank to the ground, exhausted. A soft cry escaped her lips as she left a voice message "Nobara... food... water..." she whispered, voice barely audible.

Despite her physical collapse, an overwhelming sense of joy and pride swelled within her chest, threatening to burst forth. Tears of happiness pricked at the corners of her eyes as she gazed upon her creation, now radiant in the warm sunlight. The sculpture seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if infused with the essence of her being. (Y/N)'s heart overflowed with a sense of accomplishment, knowing she had poured her very soul into this masterpiece that is yet to be finished.

Moments later Nobara approached Y/N with a gentle smile, carrying a tray laden with food and water, the aroma of nourishment wafted through the air, enticing Y/N's senses. Nobara's eyes sparkled with warmth as she helped Y/N sit up, cradling her head as she offered a refreshing sip of water.

Meanwhile, Yuji's excitement burst forth like a pent-up torrent, his words tumbling out in an effusive stream: "Wow, (Y/N) senpai this is... this is... incredible! The detail, the emotion, the sheer beauty of it! It's like nothing I've ever seen before!" His gaze darted between his senior and the sculpture, his eyes aglow with wonder.

Geto, beaming with pride, nodded his head in approval, his smile stretching from ear to ear. "(Y/N)-san, my student, you have truly outdone yourself. I've never seen such imagination, such skill, such... life breathed into a creation. You've surpassed even my expectations!"

Megumi, usually a silent observer, stood transfixed, his dark blue eyes fixed upon the sculpture as if mesmerized. His gaze seemed to hold a deep reverence, as if the artwork had awakened a part of him long dormant. For once, his quiet nature was not a result of reserve, but rather, utter captivation.

(Y/N) sipped the water and nibbled on the food, her strength slowly returning, she smiled weakly, basking in the praise and admiration of her friends and teacher. The warmth of their words enveloped her, filling her with a sense of pride and accomplishment.

"I know. This year's grand prize will also be rewarded to our university, won by none other than you, (Y/N) !" Geto's eyes shone with warm and paternal pride. His smile radiated deep satisfaction like his heart had been poured into the sculpture. Unspoken awe. Golden pride.

(Y/N) blush from all the showers of compliment yet she remained a little doubtful as the expression of the face is yet to be crafted dwelling whether the window of the model's will ruin her almost masterpiece.

"Hopefully I can create his expression. I still do not know how or what to shape his expression, hair". Nobora chuckle, sitting near her.

"Do not worry ! We all believe in you. Do your best !" She raised her fist in the air, trying to cheer her friend which she succeed because (Y/N)'s tension dissolved, chewing the food.

"But ! Do not forget to take food because forget award you can't even move your hands if this is how it goes on". Megumi calmly advised.

"Right ! (Y/N) senpai ! Please rest your body". Yuji cheerfully agreed, still captivated by the art with his eyes.

"Thank you. I will". And she did heed to their advise taking full three hours break while laying on her bed with jumble of confusion, thoughts tangled in a web of uncertainty inside her mind. She stared blankly at the clay, her fingers poised in mid-air, as if waiting for the familiar spark of inspiration to strike.

However it didn't come.

For the first time, her natural gift seemed to be faltering. She felt like a novice again, fumbling in the dark, unsure of how to mold his expression. The ease with which she usually shaped clay into breathtaking works of art had deserted her. Her eyes, once closed in confident intuition, now snapped open in frustration. Reaching for a sketchbook, (Y/N) began to scribble down ideas, trying to coax her elusive creativity back to the surface. The pencil scratched across the paper, a staccato rhythm that echoed her racing thoughts. She was forced to confront the possibility that her imagination, once a boundless ocean, might have limits after all.

This unfamiliar struggle was like reminiscing her beginning stage again, rediscovering the basics of her craft. The discomfort was palpable, like trying to relearn a forgotten language. Fingers moved hesitantly, as if seeking permission to create, her mind clouded by self-doubt. The sketchbook became a lifeline, a tangible connection to her artistic voice, which seemed to be whispering in a language she could no longer understand.

"I think I should sleep". Trying for hours with no avails she shut her notebook harshly, closing her eyes to drift into the land of dream in hopes of re-freshing her mind and back to her usual gifted self.

(Y/N) unusually found herself standing in a familiar sun-drenched studio, surrounded by half-finished sculptures and scattered tools. Her late mother stood before a work-in-progress, chisel in hand and for odd reasons she approached, curiosity etched on her face, and asked "Mother, what are you doing?"

"I am creating a sculpture, sweet one. I'm bringing this clay to life." A smile curve upon her frown look

(Y/N)'s gaze wandered to a nearby model, posed with elegance, yet lacking an upper torso. "Mother, why is she like that?" she asked, her voice tinged with innocence.

"Oh, my child, I couldn't complete her". Her mother burst into laughter

"Then will it always be like this?" Her younger self tilted her head.

Her mother's expression turned gentle, "No, my dear. Creating art means being patient. When I feel stuck, I pause, enjoy life, and give time for creativity to return to me. It's like a river, flowing and ebbing. I must learn to wait for the tide to come back."

And suddenly the image turn distant and faded into burl letting (Y/N) open her eyes with tears gliding her sides and reality welcome her, a world without her mother.

The memory of her mother's words lingering like a whispered secret with other bitter memories of her coffin flood too spreading a bittersweet taste on her lips. "Mother you never left me. Did you ?" Smiling to her herself she understood the truth : patience was the key. She needed to wait, to let her imagination recharge, and trust that the muse would return to her when the time was right rather than forcing the art to flow.

From the moment on she let go the weight that had been pressing upon her by abandoning the almost-finished sculpture, leaving it to stand silently, a testament to her temporary surrender.

With a newfound sense of freedom, she wandered into the garden, her fingers trailing across the soft petals of blooming flowers. The gentle rustle of leaves and sweet songs of birds enveloped her, calming her mind. Next, she found herself lounging on her bed, surrounded by pillows, lost in the world of games on her console. The vibrant colors and soothing music transported her to a realm where worries didn't exist.

As the day wore on, (Y/N) continued to indulge in the joy of doing nothing. She lazily flipped through the pages of a book, savoring the feel of the paper between her fingers. The words blurred together, but she didn't care – she was too busy basking in the serenity of the moment. Time lost all meaning as she drifted from one leisurely activity to the next. The competition, the sculpture, and her doubts all faded into the background, replaced by a sense of tranquility and release.

Until the creativity flowed back to her motivating her emotions to meet her clay giving birth to the sculpture's expression she always think is the true definition. With renewed inspiration, (Y/N) approached her sculpture, her hands moving with deliberate purpose. She carefully crafted the expression, etching a window to the soul onto the cold, clay body. The eyes, once blank, now sparkled with a deep, inner light, as if the very essence of life had been breathed into them.

The subtle curve of his lips, the gentle tilt of the head, all conspired to reveal the depths of the subject's being. The clay, once mere material, had transformed into a vessel for the human experience and the sculptor stepped back, her gaze swept across the masterpiece, drinking in the nuances of her creation. The world, with all its complexities and emotions, seemed to emanate from this single, silent form.

With a final, gentle touch, she completed the sculpture, infusing it with a sense of vulnerability and strength. The cold body now pulsed with a quiet, inner radiance, as if the very soul of the subject had been laid bare for all to see. In this moment, (Y/N) knew she had created something extraordinary—a window to the human experience, crafted with precision, passion, and patience. The world would soon behold her masterpiece and she was ready to be crowned as the winner of all, surrounded by claps of people.

"But what the name of this model will be ?" Deep in thought she grab her notebook looking at her male utter beautiful sculpture posed in the very same pose she choose before a name pop in her mind and she bestow the name sought to capture the harmony of opposing forces that her sculpture embodied. "Gojo" represented the balance of the five elements or more like five attributes of the human body such as head, body, arm, torse while "Satoru" symbolized the enlightenment and comprehend of his unworldly creation.

"Good". Smiling, she name her creation, granted him an identity, a sense of self that transcended the mere clay and stone even creating a inexplicable connection to herself with the art. "Is this how mother felt granting her pieces names ?" A chuckle escape her lips remembering how the old woman usually call her pieces her children along her own breathing child, (Y/N).

The competition host's voice boomed, "Welcome to the Grand People's Award Choice! Today, you will decide which sculpture reigns supreme!" The crowd murmured in excitement as they began their journey through the exhibition hall.

Sculptures of varying shapes, sizes, and materials dotted the landscape, each one unique and breathtaking in its own right. The host deliberately omitted the artists' names, allowing the art to speak for itself. Amidst the sea of onlookers, the creators themselves blended in, anonymous and eager.

(Y/N) fidgeted, her mind racing with doubts despite her teacher's encouraging words and her friends' reassurances and the crowd flowed around her, something remarkable happened. People would pause, glance at her sculpture, the Gojo Sataru, and then stop dead in their tracks. They couldn't help but be drawn back to the majestic male form, as if an otherworldly deity had been captured in clay.

Whispers spread like wildfire: "This one...this one is something special." Strangers would nod in agreement, their eyes locked on the sculpture's serene face. Even those who attempted to move on to other pieces found themselves inexplicably returning, transfixed by the beauty before them.

As the hours ticked by, a sense of certainty settled over the crowd. It was as if the winner had already been chosen, not by the judges, but by the people themselves. (Y/N)'s anxiety began to dissipate, replaced by a cautious optimism. She crossed her fingers, hoping against hope that the next hours would fly by, bringing the voting to a close and confirming what the crowd had already decided in their hearts.

The countdown clock struck its final moment, and the host's face ignited with a triumphant smile. "The moment of truth has arrived!" he declared, his voice electric with excitement. "The votes are in, and the winner of this Supreme competition will be revealed!"

(Y/N) held her breath, her heart racing like a wild stallion. Her friends offered reassuring pats on the shoulder, but she was too entranced by the host's dramatic pause to notice.

The room hung in suspended animation, the only sound the soft hum of bated breath. And then, a sly smile crept onto the host's lips, like a whispered secret. He parted his lips, and (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat.

"(L/N) (Y/N) from Cutieeva University... Congratulations! You are the champion!" he announced, his voice thundering through the hall like a victorious fanfare.

Pandemonium erupted as (Y/N) stood frozen, her eyes wide with wonder. Her friends screamed with joy, hugging her tightly as tears of elation streamed down her face. The host approached her, a congratulatory envelope in hand, and (Y/N) felt like she was soaring on the wings of triumph, her dream finally within grasp. She still can't believe out of all the brilliant universities around the globe did her sculpture won, granting her the award. (Y/N) felt like she was living in a dream, where time blurred and moments merged into a kaleidoscope of emotions. One instant, she was standing frozen, her heart racing with excitement; the next, she was beside the host, basking in the glory of her triumph.

The award felt heavy in her hands, a tangible symbol of her achievement. Thunderous applause enveloped her, a deafening roar that threatened to consume her. She opened her mouth to speak the speech, but her words were lost in the chaos, barely audible even to herself.

Before she knew it, she was swept away by a tide of well-wishers —friends, classmates, teachers, and even her principal — all beaming with pride, cheering her as the pride of their school. The celebration was a whirlwind, a colorful blur of laughter, tears, and congratulations.

And then, suddenly, she found herself alone, sitting on her bed, surrounded by the quiet of the night. The moon cast an ethereal glow, illuminating her room with an otherworldly light. She breathed in deeply, the stillness a balm to her frazzled nerves and she gazed out the window, a slow smile spread across her face. It had happened. She had won. The realization dawned on her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

"Mother ! I have achieved what I wanted". She said gazing fondly at the frame of her mother, settling the golden award beside it. Everything is perfect and will be. Right ? Because little did she know, this moment of triumph was only the beginning of a dark and twisted journey.

From that moment on, (Y/N)'s sculpture became a global sensation, drawing thousands of tourists to the university gallery. At first, she was ecstatic, basking in the glory of her creation's viral fame. She had won awards before, yet never had her work resonated with so many people worldwide. With pride, she showcased her masterpiece to art enthusiasts, critics, and curious onlookers. She reveled in their admiration, laughing and joking about being a "deity" who had created such a stunning work. However as time passed, a creeping sense of unease began to shadow her joy.

The whispers started innocently enough of

"How handsome he is!"

"I wish he was real!"

"Oh god, why couldn't I meet such a man?"

"Why the god didn't create such wonderful man ?"

"Hopefully he come to life".

"If I could then I would sacrifice my everything to see this man alive".

"Ah ! Why can't he come alive".

Hoever soon, the comments took on a life of their own, echoing in her mind like a mantra. She began to feel like she was losing control, as if her own creation had taken on a persona of its own. The praise, once music to her ears, now felt like a dark omen. She started to wonder if she had unleashed something sinister into the world. The constant attention, the endless scrutiny, and the obsessive admiration began to suffocate her. The deity joke wasn't funny anymore. It felt like a haunting prophecy.

A desolate realm of darkness she could see along the suffocating void that crushed her beneath its oppressive weight. The air was heavy with the stench of malevolent presence, and she sense of eyes upon her, boring into her very soul. In mist of that a voce came, first the voice was a distant whisper, a faint rustling of dry leaves that seemed to carry on the wind however it grew louder, more urgent, until turning a maddening chant that echoed through her mind. A single, raspy voice, repeating a phrase that seemed to draw closer with each iteration, its words indistinguishable but its sinister intent clear.

The voice was a cold breeze on the back of her neck. (Y/N) tried to flee, but her legs were leaden, her body trapped in a living nightmare. And then, the voice whispered a single, chilling phrase, its tone a masterful blend of malice and seduction "Gojo Sataru."

The name exploded in her mind like a firework of terror, shattering the fragile remnants of her sanity. (Y/N) jolted awake, her eyes wide with horror, her lips frozen in a silent scream. Sweat dripped from her brow like blood from a wound, her heart racing with a fear that threatened to consume her whole. For a moment, she lay there, paralyzed with terror, the darkness of her dream still clinging to her like a shroud. Then, she sat up with a gasp, her eyes scanning the room frantically, as if searching for an escape from the terror that still lingered in her mind, waiting to pounce.

"What is going on ?" (Y/N) ask feeling alike an mad woman slowly descending into madness. In fear she didn't closed her eyes for moment, staring blankly at the ceiling or sometimes sketching a new art mindlessly to distract her disturbed mind.

In no time sun made it's presence known, offering bit of warmth to all and each even to (Y/N) who felt comfort to the golden rays before her ringtone took her attention. Answering the phone she greeted. "Good morning, Geto sensei".

"Good morning, (Y/N)-San, but could you please come to the university gallery ?" Hearing this a frown knitted her brows and she check her wrist watch. 5:00 am.

"So early if I may ask ?"

"Actually". He paused as if unsure what to speak "Please it's urgent". Understanding the hastily tone she agreed, doing a brief wash and clothes change she went to the location asked and oh dear, (Y/N) wasn't expecting the overwhelming amount of crowd standing outside her art gallery. Spotting her teacher she stood nearby.

"Sir, what's going on ?" Her (E/C) eyes dart from the crowd to her teacher.

"Well". Sheepishly the teacher tilted his head. "They came to see your sculpture". Earning a loud grasp from her.

"T-They ? You mean all ?" She stutter.

"All". Geto smiled nervously as if he finding his own words strange.

"So early in the morning and so many ?" Geto nod again.

"What in the world..." (Y/N) tailed off unable to comprehend the situation of what's going on, yes, she admits herself this particular art is special, a living masterpiece basically yet the amount of spotlight seems unnecessary, uncomfortable and— her thoughts went back to the nightmare she woke up— and strange.

"So, (Y/N) please guide the people. I have no choice but to let them in, you know". His smile strained and the girl knew there was not much say she has so she nod wordlessly standing in front of the glass door, a wall between the people and her. The glass door slid open with a soft whoosh, unleashing a torrent of humanity into the gallery. Hundreds of people poured in, their faces alight with excitement, smiles, and eagerness. The air was electric with anticipation, a palpable sense of wonder that was almost tangible.

(Y/N) stood at the forefront, a forced smile plastered on her face as she greeted the throngs of visitors. She waved her hand graciously, guiding them towards her sculpture, the centerpiece of the exhibition. Her eyes darted back and forth, her mind racing with a growing sense of unease and she stood before her creation, a strange, unsettling feeling washed over her. She couldn't bring herself to look at her own creation, her gaze skittering away like a frightened animal. The sculpture, once her pride and joy, now seemed to loom over her, its presence oppressive and menacing.

(Y/N)'s smile faltered, her lips trembling ever so slightly. She felt like a puppeteer whose strings had been cut, her control over the situation slipping away. The crowd's excitement and admiration only added to her growing sense of discomfort, their eagerness to behold her creation now feeling like a suffocating weight. With a Herculean effort, (Y/N) raised her eyes, her gaze finally meeting the sculpture's serene, enigmatic face. Rather of pride, she felt a shiver run down her spine, as if she was staring into the abyss itself despite his face turned to the other side.

"Miss (L/N), with what thought you created this masterpiece ?" A young woman asked within the mist of people.

"Masterpiece ?" (Y/N) mutter under her breath tasting a bitterness. "Well, it came naturally". She replied smiling and staring at the woman's eyes.

"Amazing !" One of them compliment.

"Then Miss (L/N), had you thought the model will be this viral ?" A young man this time asked.

"Never". She answered holding her tremble.

"Then, what motivate you to create such man ? Is he a real man or a part of your imagination ?" Another asked who's face (Y/N) unable to see.

"As the rules of competition. All of the participators had to bring their imagination out into the clay so did I". Calm her voice and confident her (E/C) eyes.

"So Miss (L/N) how long did it take to make you ?"

"Miss (L/N) were you always inspired to make someone of it ?"

"Miss (L/N) are you aware of the name we call you ? The deity ?"

"Miss (L/N), any hint of inspiration in process of making him ?"

One after another the questions jumped from one man to another to another that (Y/N) lips didn't had the time to even open eventually the cacophony of voices and laughter merging into a distant, muffled din. The room began to spin, and she felt herself becoming detached, as if floating above the chaos. The excitement and admiration of the crowd now seemed like a distant hum, a buzzing in her ears that threatened to consume her. With a sense of morbid curiosity, (Y/N) dared to glance at her sculpture, the root of all the chaos. Her heart raced and from the tail of her eyes locking onto its serene, enigmatic face.

And then, she saw it. Or thought she saw it. His eyes, once mere clay and stone, seemed to flicker with life. They moved, ever so slightly, as if connecting with hers. The room froze, time standing still as (Y/N)'s heart sank like a stone.

She felt a chill run down her spine, her mind reeling in horror. It was impossible, yet she swore she saw it. The eyes, once lifeless, now seemed to hold a spark of consciousness, a glimmer of awareness that was not of this world.

(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat, her voice trapped in a silent scream. She stumbled backward, her eyes fixed on the sculpture, her mind racing with the implications. The crowd's din returned, but she didn't hear it. She was lost in the abyss of her own terror, staring into the eyes of her creation, which now seemed to stare back.

"Miss (L/N) ?"

"Miss (L/N) ?"

"(Y/N) senpai ?" Snap ! (Y/N) looked at the familiar call of her best friend Yuji running towards her, holding her hand worried. "Are you alright ?" His voice ringed yet her care is about the sculpture, about the man !

Slowly she turn her head, finger point to his face only to blink twice and find the lifeless eyes as it belonged unlike the glimpse of terror she saw.

Confusion.

Betrayed.

Madness.

Alone.

Did no one saw that ? Did even she saw that ? But it's liveless right ? It's a mold of clay, a non-living thing yet why ? How ? What is going on ? (Y/N) mind spin threatening to burst any moment.

"Yuji, I-I am not okay". Her words stutter and she lean on his strength.

"Understood". Yuji sprang into action, bellowing at the crowd to part and make way unlike (Y/N) who couldn't process the commotion, her mind reeling like a maelstrom. She felt her grip on reality begin to slip, her thoughts spiraling into a vortex of doubt and terror. Was she truly seeing things, or was her own sanity unraveling? The world around her became a blur, as if she was trapped in a never-ending nightmare. Yuji's voice grew distant, a fading echo as (Y/N)'s consciousness teetered on the edge of collapse.

"High blood pressure, high stress level and sleep deprivation". Ieiri Shōko said, with a sigh looking at the chat. "It's a dangerous combination, (Y/N)-san that's why rest your body". Before glaring at her teacher Geto. "And you ! who even gave you the permission to be a teacher huh ? If you can't act like one ?" Her raspy voice and judgmental eyes send daggers in his way.

"I am sorry, (Y/N)-San, I didn't know I was creating pressure for you". Guilty written over his face as he ease his frown.

Megumi commented "Well, you as a teacher should know yourself". Right away avert his gaze to not meet his glare.

"It's alright. My fault. I should have voiced out my problem but I really think I need rest". Indeed (Y/N) felt the need to relax after seeing the movement never will she ever recover the horror her heart felt.

Nothingness. No hint of light, nothing at all. A silent void of nullity only suddenly, two glints of light materialized, like sapphires bursting forth from the shadows. The brightest blue she had ever seen, piercing and vivid, locked onto her. Eyes, hidden until now, stared directly into her soul. A whisper, a murmur, a voice she couldn't decipher, grew in intensity, swelling to a deafening crescendo. The words remained elusive, but the urgency was unmistakable. She strained to comprehend, her heart racing, until the sound shattered the darkness, jolting her awake with a silent scream, as if her own soul was being torn from her throat, leaving her gasping in terror, her breaths coming in ragged, desperate gulps, like a dying thing clawing its way back from the abyss.

"What was that ? I never saw those eyes—" She pause recalling the vivid eyes. "I didn't or did I ?" Oddly enough her mind went to her own sculpture. "His eyes, his lifeless eyes". Repeating the thought in her mind, She threw off the covers and got out of bed, her bare feet making barely a sound on the cold floor.

"It can't be". She hoped. "It shouldn't be, it must not be". Like a protection mantra she chanted it sprinting to the exhibition where her once masterpiece to nightmare stand on and she somehow unlock the door and run to stand in front of her model, Gojo Sataru in the darkness she was begin to spiral and to her denial the moon cast an eerie glow through the window, illuminating the sculpture's face. (Y/N) felt a shiver run down her spine as her (E/C) eyes bore into its eyes and saw nothing. No color, no sparkle, just emptiness like it should be. "Ha ! I knew it. It was another my imagination working too much". With a scoff she breath properly ignoring her intitution of feeling not being alone in this room so she walk away quietly yet quickly escaping from the burning empty eyes of the sculptures.

The night wore on, a sleepless vigil, as her fingers held the pencil scratched across the paper, trying to capture the haunting blue eyes that lingered in her mind. The memory of their piercing gaze refused to fade, fueling her creativity as she sketched into the wee hours. Just as the first light of dawn crept in, her friend arrived, bearing the missed class lessons and a gentle smile.

"Here, I am giving you all you need". Nobara pat her head, able to point out dark circles in her friend's eyes.

"Thank you a lot". Gratitude mingled with exhaustion and her hands accepted the offering, placing it in the wooden desk where her eyes caught the shining golden award she forget to keep somewhere else due to the chaos happening.

"By the way (Y/N) I also wanted you to know today your sculpture would be the model for beginner students to learn how to create the perfect body, arms and you know basics". Her hands move with the notion earning a smile over (Y/N)'s lips.

"Understood". She didn't, she didn't understood the meaning behind seeing the same art so many times anymore. Why can't people move on, go, see some other new, fresh and normal art unlike her strange, hauntingly beautiful one. That's when the curiosity to see the art awaken, for unknown reason she desperately wants to see or perhaps it was the promise of safety in numbers she asked to go along with her.

(Y/N) strolled hand in hand with Nobara towards the exhibition, the warm light danced across her skin, a comforting sensation she savored. "Let's go in". Reached the glass door Nobara said touch the doorhandle and about to open breaking the space between them when her (E/C) eyes dare peek through her lashes to the glass exterior and her her serenity, sanity shattered because for a fleeting instant, the hands of the stone seemed to twitch, fingers trembling, arms stiffening, like a macabre puppet springing to life. The horror of her nightmare resurfaced, threatening to consume her. Madness lurked, its dark tendrils creeping closer.

Averting her gaze, she felt her grip on reality falter once again. With shaking hands and a voice barely above a whisper, she stammered "I am sorry...I suddenly feel sick. I need to rest".

Without awaiting Nobara's response, she turned and fled, leaving the girl worried and tense, her eyes wide with concern as she called out however (Y/N) was already gone, vanished into the crowd, pursued by the demons of her own mind.

"This is happening again. It moved right in front of my eyes, in front of Nabora and others too !" Claps her palm to her mouth she tightly close her eyes, sitting on her bed and without a second thought opened the wooden drawer taking few pills of sleeping pills and drank in rapid speed.

"I need a dreamless sleep, I need a dreamless sleep". Repeating she lay on the cold fabric of bed and close her eyes.

Darkness enveloped her sight, a suffocating shroud that obscured all else And then, like specters emerging from the void, a pair of pale hands materialized before her. They glowed with an ethereal light, as if the darkness itself had taken on a life of its own. The hands, unmistakably male, reached out with an unsettling gentleness, his fingers tracing the contours of her body. (Y/N) felt a shiver run down her spine as the hands caressed her, his touch leaving her skin crawling with unease. She tried to recoil yet the palm tightly held her waist in it's root however she tried to move again that's when a low, velvety voice unfolded like a dark flower, its laughter echoing through the shadows like a predator's taunt along the blue eyes snapped open, blazing with an otherworldly intensity. Those cerulean orbs incinerated her defenses, laying bare her soul like a ravaged landscape despite clothes attached to her body.

"How cute you are trying to run away ?" His sinister voice carried like wind coming from behind to front or from nothing to assume.

Slowly his hands caress her visible neck, lacing with curiosity and desire. Tracing the curve of her side to the front from her chin to pausing at the collarbone unleashing a chill that seeped into her bones. Disgust and fear entwined, a toxic embrace that left her paralyzed, her heart a wild animal racing against her ribs and almost as if he could smell the fear those gleaming eyes smile into crescent moon and frosty fingers unbutton her night shirt one by one swelling tears in her eyes.

"No. Please. No. Please". She preyed to each and every god she knew the existence of, hoping to be saved by the creation she created by her own hands. Spared by the humiliation she might face by the monster and—Snap ! Her eyes jolt open to a world that is too bright, too loud. The screeching alarm pierced her eardrums, a forgotten relic of a previous night's routine. As she struggled to sit up, the harsh light overhead stabbed at her eyes, making her squint and shield her face with a groggy hand.

Tear drops silently land on her lap, soaking the fabric with her sorrows she experienced and unconsciously her hand went to her chest making her breath hitched because the two first buttons of her shirt is separated leaving her to wonder the line between her reality and nightmare erasing. "What is happening ? Why is this happening ?" Fingers dug inside her hair to the roots, only helpless questions is jumbled on her mind with unanswered and those question will remain more unanswered when increasingly she unmistakenly gets glimpse of the model and her blood run cold witnessing the torso seemed to twist, ever so slightly, like a snake slithering through grass and that very same night she is laying on her bed, inside her nothing of dream joined by the pair of hands, alive eyes, cold hard torse crawling above her warmth of skin exporling her body as if she belonged to him, violently the privacy (Y/N) wants to keep and when she teetered on the brink of death. The alarm clock screamed, shattering the spell, saving her at the same time lingering the terror.

The next time she didn't gave the chance her eyes could to see her sculpture anywhere from her phone, to her poster, she even avoiding going out frighten by the fact to see him coming alive however fate speaks otherwise accidentally letting her eyes meet the flicker of the monster named Gojo Sataru and finally along his legs twitched, its entire body began to stir, like a creature awakening from a centuries-long slumber. (Y/N) watched in pure horror, her mind reeling, as the once-inanimate object now moved with a sinister purpose. Feeling her own life force ebbing away, as if the sculpture's newfound vitality was draining her very existence and known echoed in her mind "This is the end. I'm staring death in the face."

Desperate to escape the terror from going to sleep, (Y/N) tried to distract herself. Fingers grabbed her sketchbook, but her pencils trembled in her hand, unable to capture the beauty of art amidst such evil however eyes moved to watched entertainment shows only to feel the laughter and music seemed hollow, a cruel mockery of her fear. Even old videos of her parents, once a source of comfort, now seemed distant, unable to shield her from the encroaching darkness waiting to pounch.

No matter what she did, her eyelids grew heavy, threatening to surrender to sleep despite the knowledge that if she succumbed to sleep, the sculpture would claim her. So she fought, hard and limit past her strength. She'd rather die awake, than let the darkness consume her.

Despite her valiant efforts, (Y/N)'s eyelids finally betrayed her, succumbing to the relentless pull of exhaustion and the last thing she saw was her mother smiling face holding her younger self's hand in the video.

This time when she faced the void of nothingness, she has complex layers of emotions piling one after another. Fear of what might bound to happen, confusion of why or how's this situation is even occurring to her so many times, regret of creating a monster she mistakenly did and little calm of at least knowing what's about to come in front yet she wasn't ready to face the tide like all ship captains are no matter how much they nagivate above the ocean, they fear bear fear and the darkness coalesced, swirling around itself like a vortex of ink, deepening into an abyssal void. It churned and eddied, alike creating a pathway for the entity that lurked beyond the shadows. The air seemed to thicken, heavy with anticipation, as the darkness parted like a curtain, revealing a glimpse of what lay beyond. Slowly, the entity began to take form, its presence unfolding, no longer just fragments of limbs or eyes, but its entire self, a being of unutterable horror, emerged from the shadows. The darkness swirled around it, a mad dance of tendrils, as if worshiping the monstrosity that now stood before (Y/N).

Gojo Saturu, her sculpture moving in flesh and form of an living human. A vision of devastating beauty that the viewers oh so desired. His lips in a perpetual smirk while his sapphire eyes look straight into his creator's soul.

"Hello, my creator". He mockingly greet, voice smooth flowing to (Y/N)'s ears. "Nice to meet ya". He giggle at the end as his own comment was funny. "I was oh so waiting to meet. Took so long". His long legs march forward to (Y/N) who is frozen, breathing hard to have her creation talk to her.

His face lean forward inching almost few inches apart to where her (E/C) could see his unblemished and smooth skin like she curved out of her fingers, well she bestowed him everything but flaw, a mistake on her part and a power to his. Deliberately his slender pale finger tips touch her cheek—her imperfect skin. She fully embraced to shiver by his coldness yet it was oddly warm causing her eyes wide filling questions in them.

He wordlessly smiled further, cupping her entire face on his both palm like one would to their deity. Thumps ever so slightly stroke her skin. "You must be dying to know the truth ? How I created ? Breath to live ?" His eyes flicker to hers. She choose to not say.

"Well, it's cause you, all because of you and those humans. Their hopes, admiration, wishes and your believe of me springing to live manifest into a unseen force, a force of blending your believes turning and fueling my life from mere stones. The moment you believed my eyes moved, my eyes spring into live, you believed my hands twitch it gave me life and slowly little by little you were all along bringing me life. My creator, my love. My eve of life". Stretching his lips ear to ear he close their distance, enveloping her lips.

Astonishing her and letting her limbs finally protest against the unwanted touch yet his hands larger, faster, stronger that held her both wrist in one palm, focusing solely on devouring her lips and wrapping tongue above one another, swirling like the taste of saliva and sucking breath out of her leaving her utterly surrender and vulnerable. (Y/N) suffocated by the soul draining kiss she kicked his any part only for him to remain unyielding and finally when he deem to be satisfied he seprated their lips with a glistening string of saliva linked and heavy breathing followed.

"Is this how it feels to need air ?" A husky laugh bubble out of his throat. "Then it's addicting". The sly smile stayed as he branded her skin with tender kisses, tracing a path of desire. The soft curve of her cheek, the tantalizing corner of her lips, the delicate slope of her chin, the whisper-soft lids of her eyes, and the gentle expanse of her forehead like marking her his.

"Stop. Stop all of this madness. Why are you doing this ? If you want to kill me then kill me already why torture me ?" Desperate her breath brush aganist his skin, fearful written on her eyes.

"Aww, there is a misunderstanding between us love, a grave one". He dramatically chuckle. "Why would I want to kill my own creator when you are the reason I even form an shape ? And torture ? Is this torture when I am soaking you in love. This is my passion for you. My burning desire for you". Yearning his brightest shade of eyes hold and rather of feeling moved all she felt was forced.

"But I do not want". Tears prickly down her eyes, watering her vision. "I really do not want this". She threw her head back, moving as her physical self can.

"It's okay. You do love me because if you don't then you wouldn't have created me so love me. Like you are suppose to. Bear the consequences of your actions, darling". Shushing her lips with his finger, he gently kiss the vulnerable curve of her neck and descend in downwards ignoring all of her pleads, protest and fight. Eventually his lips brush against her collarbone and ever so gently he suck the skin purple and red moving to the valley of her chest.

His free hand cup the breast through her dress ignited an fire and blood rush to his pants. Tearing her shirt scattering her buttons he came to face with her lovely bra, the only shield protecting against being bare yet he with ease snatch that away. Laying her upper body to feast by those eyes.

"Hmm" A groan slip past his lips from merely stare at those breast and the outline of her body with the way her blush expression, tears streaming, hands tied by his palm, hair spread beneath her was a divine sight than himself. Oh how he recall watching her from his stone form and yearn to touch those skin which he is now relishing.

Shamelessly his large palm cup her breast earning a sweet whimper and dive to taste if it's sweet as her lips and he was beyond ecstatic, twisting the bud as he please and sucking whole even biting with his canines enjoying the melody of her sobbing and her warmth skin. Before jumping to the another untouched one claiming his like it belonged and butterflies kisses on the entire breasts.

To lacing his tongue on her center of skin, tailing down and stopping at her stomach pecking each imperfect and perfect spots covering her whole. How couldn't he ? If he was served with a human like her, (Y/N) who is in his eyes the prettiest girl to even laid eyes on.

While she is on other end of hell, despising the kisses like an lava drops, burning with a fiery hatred that left her scarred. Every touch was a toxic assault, poisoning her senses and corroding her soul. His lips were venomous serpents, injecting deadly venom into her veins with each caress. His hands are acid, dripping with malice as they crawled across her skin. She couldn't and didn't felt a loving sense from him let alone love he was confessing about. Nightmare his life is.

And he knew about. Knew perfectly of her hatred, pain and still choose to love her because she does love him. She just doesn't know herself or he will make her. That's why he is mastering the very skill to pleasure her in ways a woman could be by ripping her only thread of cloth wrapped around her hip and fully nude her.

Viewing her lay bare, all nude couldn't conceal the heart crafting on Gojo's eyes and the madness smile heating his pale skin. Swiftly he dug his head in between of her legs, inside the clit his cum will enter. Well, for later because now his mouth was engulfed inside, tongue forcefully rip inside to taste the creamy fluids his love made of making her grasp and thrash around more harder than she could.

Even squirming underneath him only to prove fruitless while he continue to taste her juices, eating as if it's a delicacy itself, swallowing down and circling his tongue inside her tight walls, loving every bit of it however his patience comes to end making him pull out his flesh with dripping saliva and ran his fingers past his hair.

"P-Please. Please spare me. Please..." Her voices somewhere blended with her sobbed sorrows and her grasp when he impatiently without preparation unbuckle his restrictions, pulling out his shaft and pierce straight inside her walls.

Arching her back and cry out a scream she felt utter hopeless and pain coursing through her limbs. "It hurts ! I-it hurts". Dragging her air she wail. "It hurts please Gojo. It hurts". pricked at his name Gojo shush her more, whispering sweet nothings like an lover not a rapist he is and claim her lips once more. Even stealing her right to speak.

Heartlessly he slam his throbbing shaft again and again, groaning within the kiss and savouring the feeling. "Ah ! Is this what feels to have sex ? Because if it is then I would do it again and again". Tilting his head, Gojo separated his lips and eventually his hips came to stuttering as he cum inside without a care of world unlike (Y/N) who's heart rattled under her ribcage.

"No ! No ! No ! No ! No ! You monster ! What did you do ?" In disbelief she kicked her tireless legs and dug her nails on his soft skin. Anger filling her mind. "I can be pregnant !" She cried out.

"Really ?" Honestly he asked, laughing. "Then I should do it properly". With that the horrors repeated with his hips penetrate her clit deeper.

Her lips parted echoing her scream along her eyes snap open. Her body jolt up from her bed and gasping for air as if she'd been underwater for too long. Her chest heaved, and her eyes frantically scanned the familiar surroundings of her room. Her clothes clung to her damp skin, a testament to the terror she had endured. "Wai—I am wearing my clothes. Does that mean ?" As reality set in, a wave of relief washed over her—it was just a nightmare, a twisted episode of her own madness, nothing more. Smiling to herself she craved the comfort of her friends so with a sense of urgency, she rushed to their room, catching a glimpse of them at the exhibition hall. She burst in, smiling wider and navigated through the crowd. Her eyes locked onto Nabora, and she grasped her best friend's hand like a lifeline.

"Good morning (Y/N)". Cheerfully she greeted.

"Good morning to you too". She breathed. "I had a nightmare". Her voice confessed. "Believe me or not the worst one".

"What do you mean". Concern fill the girl's face and (Y/N)'s lips about to elaborate when a pair of hands— disgustingly familiar and unsettling— wrapped around her shoulders from behind. A low, husky voice whispered in her ear.

"A nightmare huh ?" Gojo's words dripped with an unsettling intimacy, his tone implying secrets shared and terrors unspoken washing cold bucket of water over her head.

How ?

What ?

Impossible ?

"Right ! Gojo senpai, help your girlfriend ! She is in need of your help". Nobara spoke in an familiar tone to which he replied "of course".

"B-Boyfriend ?" Her words stutter.

"Oh ! Sorry not boyfriend. Fiancé !" She facepalmed herself laughing. Alone. Not with (Y/N) who's questions and terrors trapped in the vice of his embrace.

Leaning closely Gojo tucked her shirt a little making her aware of the intimacy marks she was blind to miss and whispered the bitter truth. "I have become the god of the chisel".

FIN

[artytaeh]

idk if you write a lot about mattheo, but I loveee him heehehe. I feel like Mattheo is the guy that sleeps around A LOT but only has one or two girls he really dates, and is loyal to them. She's probably one of of pansy's friends too, so they are very close in the friend group. He would also make it very obvious and be very touchy, like if there's a group hangout or sleepover he's holding your thigh or waist, and when you guys lay down you're ON TOP of him, like he wants you and will make it knownnnnn. Anyways he's such a pookie even if he's a psycho he's cute.

hey love! omg i love to receive asks, thank you for interacting! 🌷 and you're so right about this.

i mainly write theodore nott, however mattheo riddle is a close second (i have many drafts about him </3) along with lorenzo berskhire, in the future.

I FEEL LIKE MATTHEO RIDDLE avoids getting attached to other people, hence why he rarely sleeps with the same person thrice. two times at maximum, really— specially if mattheo finds them really pretty or a good company.

full-on distances himself: would only stop avoiding them until he's perceived as an asshole and 'not worth it', since it saves him from a possible situationship that could turn out to be a big, big crush.

but you, pansy's friend? oh boy, that was disaster waiting to happen. pansy, from his friendgroup, who gets invited and dragged to each of their hangouts? pansy parkinson, your best friend that brings you with her each time, since the boys don't want to go out without pansy, and she won't go without you.

it's a simple equation, really. no you? no pansy. no pansy? no hangout. for the hangout, pansy must come, which equals to your presence there too. mattheo riddle sees you so many times that:

he'll give up on his friends (never happening. mattheo riddle gave his heart to them and he'd never admit this, but the closest thing he has of a family is them.) so he won't have to see you so many times,

or he will grow some pants and not steal one single glance. mattheo riddle is perceived as a very attractive slytherin amongst other students— he doesn't need your attention.

but god. you're such a cruel little minx, and you don't even notice it.

mattheo looks at you and it's like you have him bewitched, because thoughts and more thoughts silence whatever isn't about you inside his mind. and that blossoms some cravings within him.

like, listening to your voice. will nonchalantly ask pansy about something that you like, as in your favorite subject, or whatever the fuck you do as a hobby.

it could be the most boring thing for mattheo, to the point where he thinks that he might die out of boredom. however, as he smokes a cigarette, staring at everywhere but you, mattheo will find a way to get this interest of yours as the main topic.

and then you won't shut up.

mattheo smokes a whole cigarette (and even a second one, for the sake of having you talking more and more) while he listens to you.

god, aren't you thirsty? you haven't shut up. and you know what? he likes it. your voice. it might get into a very dangerous point where mattheo will smoke, staring at the wall, while imagining this voice of yours as moans. or even worse: telling him reassuring, sweet words.

he's down bad. and he'll blame pansy for it.

he'll sleep with you just one more time. this next party will be the last time that it'll happen. and then, goodbye! because mattheo riddle can deal with pansy parkinson chasing him around with the intent of ripping those dark curls out of his stupid head!

except that pansy is a scary slytherin and god, one warning glare of hers, is enough for mattheo straighten up his posture as he guides you to his bedroom, mid party.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

mattheo can look like a fucking hunting dog when he puts some effort to it. sat behind you, as you obliviously go through another boring class— those dark eyes becoming threatening as he carefully looks at each. single. desk.

trying to get one miserable unlucky fool who might have an eye on you. so that he can give a warning that would soon spread around school like a bloody virus.

mattheo waits for you to leave the classroom first. then, menacingly, mattheo will make his way to the prick who couldn't get his eyes off you— a little warning, one that the entirety of hogwarts and their mothers know to be a very serious threat, and baam. 🗯️

no more love interests. no competition. at parties, mattheo is a bloody falcon to anyone who approaches you for a dance. sometimes you might be enjoying yourself, dancing along the beat, drunk in your owm enjoyment to notice how mattheo pushes a guy away from your back, yeeting them to the other corner of the dancefloor.

just in case someone steals you away from him. mattheo justifies his actions as being selfish, because he's a bad person. and bad people selfishly keep what they like for themselves.

and god, mattheo loves your company. even if it's platonic or more than that, he'd be damned if someone got you too busy to be dragged along with pansy to their hangouts.

hangouts become smoking sessions with all the group, some smoking, others making company (and mama blaise making sure that not more than two cigarettes are smoked). smoking sessions become outings to hogsmeade, which mattheo likes to pretend to be dates sometimes.

like, 'really, fuck off theodore i can't hear that fucking accent of yours anymore'— so you'll go with him, right? there's this thing he needs to buy. oh, you need to go to the bathroom? what he coincidence, he needs too. might as well go look for one with you. ahh, so there's this bullshit you wanna buy? mattheo rolls his eyes and sure, he'll accompany you; who knows what a gal like you might stumble against if he's not there just in case.

and as you said: physical contact! will wrap an arm around your shoulders, casually, as you walk with the group or the whole lot of you are standing somewhere, while waiting for class to start. if you're sitting in the common room? hand on your thigh, squeezing it every so often, not even conscious about it as he talks with his friends. or even one arm around your waist, as his fingers feel the curve from your ribcage to your hipbone.

then comes the sleepovers as you said, love! 🌷

it started as a girls' night for gossip. obviously, blaise joins in (he's one of the girls, alright?) and lorenzo follows him instantly because this man knows gossip from many different sources.

draco goes too, hating to be one to be left out. if blaise goes, he's coming too— and theodore, well, there will be snacks; besides, he doesn't feel like being alone tonight. mattheo riddle, on the other hand, was the first one to want to join the girls (you) but was waiting for the others to say the first word, so it's less suspicious for him to join.

this first sleepover becomes a slow tradition for the group; unless there's exams preventing you to do so, then this happens weekly. even if someone has a boyfriend or girlfriend expecting some quality time during this night? nuh-huh, sleepovers at pansy's are sacred.

once, theodore left to spend the night with some ravenclaw; the whole room boo-ed him so bad that theo got seriously offended.

the only problem that might surface is how many people pansy's room is meant to take. you see, if it was only the two of you, it'd be perfectly okay; but now there's five boys expecting a good night of sleep.

nevermind if pansy's plans were to have you two sharing the bed to cuddle; a few hours later, mattheo will have you sleeping on top of him (he's warmer!) and sincerely might have the most peaceful sleep with the reassuring weight of you on top of him. should you fall asleep first, mattheo will glare and shush at the other boys, if they happen to make too much noise.

also protects your sleep. if one of them grabs a pen to draw on your face, mattheo won't let that happen. mysteriously, when the hilarious clown (who suggested this idea) woke up in the morning, his whole face was doodled. ha. i wonder who did it.

HOWEVER, mattheo riddle would also be hot and cold. yes and no, clingy and distant.

as soon as some progress is made, or things are the slightest verbalized— mattheo riddle will distance himself so well, that you'll barely catch glimpses of him for a few hours or days.

then, he's all over you; snatching you from a conversation or full-on passing by you on a hallway, picking you up with him and carrying you for some alone time. might be making out, requiring your presence as he smokes (sometimes, he won't even encourage you to talk your tongue off) or sex. this happens when mattheo can't handle how much he misses you anymore.

those days spent apart are already known by the boys. at first, he's a bit silent, overthinking and distant from conversations. then, mattheo gets increasingly moody, rolling his eyes at everything and telling them to shut the fuck up— which, okay, moody much?

it's at this point that lorenzo and theodore exchange knowing glances, and soon draco joins in to participate on the bet of how long it'll take mattheo riddle to crawl back to you.

blaise thinks the bet is stupid— and so he bets the shortest amount of time with all the confidence in the world.

( unsurprisingly he's the one who won the bet. lorenzo accuses him of having mattheo telling him stuff in secret. )

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

this is in case some romantic, possessive feelings blossom between the two of you, or at least within mattheo.

however, the idea of him having one or two girls with whom he goes out on dates or fucks more than three times, a bit more platonically—that's something i can see happening too.

so hear me out,

this one person that makes it obvious that things between the two of are reciprocated. mattheo doesn't want a relationship, you don't want a relationship. he likes to fuck you, you like getting fucked by him. and things are never blurred lines; it seems natural, really. and so it becomes a weird type of friends with benefits because it's not like a real friendship, more of that person you know, you're attracted to, yet are no feelings envolved.

which is perfect for mattheo because thank merlin he doesn't have to go full-on asshole with you and run away around school, like the other six times he did so.

will ask you out on a date a few times, and accept to go on some with you; dates, because that's what outsiders would conclude at the sight of the two of you. in reality, those are more like hangouts, to suppress that silent craving of something more than superficial attraction.

will wrap his arm around you, indulge you, probably pay for your meal or some bullshit you found cool while window shopping. definitely walks you to your dorm, making sure that you got there safely.

will let you sleepover at his bedroom or rest a little before taking his shit and flee out of your bedroom. is more careless with you (in a way that he'll indulge these little things, overstaying and not running away) than with other girls, since he's not afraid to give you hope on something that won't ever happen.

might go to your bedroom if he's having a bad day, or needing to vent. might smoke a cigarette as he does so— and have the decency of doing this near the window, so he won't get your bedroom all smelly from the tobacco or with foggy due to the smoke. should you barge in his room for something similar, well, mattheo is all ears to you, too.

i feel like mattheo would genuinely care about this girl, even if it's platonically so. sincerely sees her as a friend, even though he won't tell you— mattheo hates to sound emotional or attached.

and if you get a serious fling or someone you like?

mattheo will tell you something like, 'yeah, yeah; just don't come back to my bed.' — which might sound so infuriatingly arrogant of him, but the little smile he gives you, reveals the intention behind it: if you don't come back to him, then you won't continue this friends with benefits thing for the sake of satisfying each other's void for something more that both of you are scared to have, well, then that means that you're happy. that you finally found someone for you.

after that, you'll only exchange glances. if mattheo passes by you in the hallway, he'll greet you, or at least nod in acknowledgement of your presence. things might be over, but i feel like mattheo would still have a space for you in his heart— as in, you've become someone that he actually has a lot of consideration for.

and god forbids this boyfriend of yours turns out to be an asshole; mattheo will gladly land him to the infirmary wing, for the sake of an opportunity to think about what he's done.

hey, mattheo riddle does care about you. you're like, a strange friendship to him. might come to you and ask you if you're alright, if you need anything.

but then he'll tease you— you have the worst taste for men, cuz hey, you remember that you did more than just fuck him once, right?

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

what would be funny is if these two situationships happen at the same time. because i feel like this fwb one might give the scolding that mattheo needs.

truthfully, mattheo wouldn't admit this weird attachment to you not even to theodore; that's how in denial he is. however, mattheo will ask this fwb about her opinion, or even seek some advice.

in conclusion: i totally feel like mattheo riddle is pretty loyal to these two girls, in different ways; one of them he'd slowly work on fighting over his commitment issues, while the other is a strange type of best friend whom he'd still defend her honor— nevermind if you don't fuck him anymore.

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— tysm for interacting with me! your ask got me giggling and created a whole brainrot because seriously, i can see this 100% happening.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[marycorcaroli]

PLEASE do a blurb/fic of zoro or luffy (your choice!!) being pussy drunk!! i love your work <333

first of all, thank you for your kind words, i don’t know if i wrote it well, but i tried my best ♡

zoro & luffy as a pussy drunk boyfriends ♡

english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes ♡

zoro.

you don't need to ask zoro for anything, he'll feel it himself when you want his tongue between your legs. zoro loves licking you so much and the way you whimper and beg for him to let you cum and give you the most euphoric orgasm. zoro licks cunnie better than anyone else, he was born to give you that pleasure. zoro isn't the fastest at this, he likes to enjoy every moment and every inch of you, making sure to kiss your thighs and your breasts before he starts licking you. he will start kissing your clit uncontrollably to hear you say "please, zoro, fuck me with your tongue" and he will go crazy for it. his mouth will not be able to stop until you cover his face in your juices, he will be covered in them and his knees will be shaking, his pants will be ruined because your cunt makes him cum more than you, your taste, your smell, your everything. he can't stop after two of your orgasms, he needs more. he wants to burrow into you while his hands hold your waist so you can't move away from him or push him away, he won't let that happen. zoro loses control of himself, his head spinning before his eyes, all he sees is you and your cunt swollen with endless orgasms. eventually he lets you go and gives you hope that that's it, but the next second you're on his face and zoro tries again to make you cum in a minute to feel your juices, he licks you all over and after hours of orgasms, he kisses you, but he wants more.

luffy.

luffy doesn't care where and when to lick you, he will lick you only because he wants to, he doesn't care who is looking at you, he is flattered to let everyone know that he can give you euphoria with just his tongue. he is the dirtiest and drooling, your cunnie is like air to him and he literally gasps when you try to move away from him and starts crying. he will beg you to let him lick you all day, it's only morning and luffy is so needy. he will stain all the sheets with his cum just from the sight of your cunt, in his head he has already seen what will happen to him, once he tastes you he will go crazy. he will start out very rough, luffy has waited too long. he will literally dig his face deep into you, his nose will rub your clit as his tongue does its best to bathe in your juices. he will make you feel too good, but you shouldn't forget about him. oh god, this boy is already sick, imagine a man who lives to be on his knees in front of you. he can't get enough air, he will never get tired of you and your taste, don't get your hopes up, he could die while he's licking you, it's beyond praise for him, if you want to thank him in any way, just spread your legs and that will be enough. luffy is ready to tell everyone how delicious you are and how lucky he is to have you. how he wants to be between your legs forever. i don't think he will ever be gentle, haha he just can't enjoy it and wants to take you all over. everyone has seen his nose, right? luffy is waiting for you to ride his face, your juices running down his chin while the two of you go crazy with your orgasms and can't stop whimpering, your eyes will be red and your face swollen with tears but luffy is even more turned on, i don't think he can stop.

[qrrieterisunnq]

Eight stages of pregnancy – Dawson Mercer

dawson!mercer x pregnant!reader Summary: the journey y/n’s and Dawson’s pregnancy during the hockey season, the most important milestones in every pregnancy Requested: yes/no A/N: This is the longest fic I have ever written so I hope you'll like it! Especially the one who requested it! Everything I write is a figment of my imagination! likes are good, reblogs are better <3 gif, not mine word count: 9,0K warning(s): pregnancy, moody y/n, birth-giving, mentions of suicide (not in a bad way but just in a soft, cute? way I think), soft and sweet Dawson, pure content, gender reveal

masterlist | wip's

1. FINDING OUT YOU’RE PREGNANT – SEPTEMBER

“Please, be negative,” you mumble to yourself. You’re sitting on the bed in your shared bedroom with a plastic stick in your hands. You’ve been having morning sickness for a few days now, and with the fact that you and Daws sometimes forgot about condoms, you decided to do the test. “Please.” You whimper, tears stinging in your eyes.

You take in deep breath as you look down at the stick. Pregnant. You let out a shaky breath as the tears start falling down your cheeks. You don’t really know if the tears are happy or sad.

You and Dawson never really talked about this stuff. Yeah, you asked him If he want kids in the future, but with his third season in nhl only, you both agreed that you want to wait at least a few years.

“Oh my god!” you choke on your sob, trying to hold it in you. Dawson was down the hall with the boys playing games. They probably won't hear you, but you can't take the risk.

You crawl into the bed under the blanket, holding the stick in your hand, while the other is in your mouth trying to silence your sobs.

When you calm down a little, you let your mouth free and place the hand on your stomach, caressing it slightly.

“Hi there,” you whisper a quiet sob leaving your mouth. “I'm you, mommy.” You lightly caress your still-flat belly.

Watching your hand moving over your belly you completely forgot about the time and the fact that the boys are still over at your place. The sound of the door opening snaps you out of your thoughts. You hold your breath in waiting for someone to start speaking or something to happen.

“Baby, are you okay?” Daws’ voice sounds next to you and the bed dipped down under his weight as he sits behind you.

You let out a shaky breath, swallowing the sob. “Yeah!” you say in a shaky voice, trying to sound convincingly.

He lets out a sigh. “Can I see your face, my love?” he asks softly, his hand running down my back over the blanket.

You close your eyes, you wish you could say no, but you have to tell him, and the best opportunity to tell him is probably now.

You pull the planet off your head and sit up, clinging the plastic stick in your hand.

“Why are you crying my love?” he whispered, turning to face me, his hands making their way to your face wiping the tears away.

You look down at your hands before you take a deep breath in look into his eyes.

“I...uhm...I know we said we want to wait a while...but a...uhm,” you let out a shaky breath before you place the stick on his lap. In the corner of my eye, you can see his shocked expression as his shaky hands take the test in them.

You let out a sob, as you watch him tilt his head back, eyes screwed shut and the test firmly clenched in his left hand. You watch him as he takes in a deep breath before he looks your way with teary eyes. You want to say something, but the only sound that comes out is your sob.

“We are having a baby?” his voice croaked as a quiet sob left his throat. I nod wiping away the tears. He looks down at the test and then back at me. “We are having a baby!” he says, this time with a smile on his lips as he pulls me in him, lying on top of me. You let out a laugh, wrapping your hands around his neck as his lips press on your neck, peppering it with kisses.

“Yes, we are!” still laughing, he turns you around, so you’re lying atop him. “Wait,” you stop laughing, pushing your hands against his chest to get some distance between you two. “You aren’t mad?”

“Why should I be?” he looks at you with a confused look, brows arched.

“Because I-I thought you didn’t want a baby.” You whisper with a sad look. He sits up with you on his lap as he cups your cheeks.

“Yeah, I probably didn’t want it a few years ago, but I want to have a family with you.” He smiles pressing a small kiss on your lips.

“Okay,” you nod, a smile lingering on your lips. “I want a family with you too.” His smile grows wider as he leans in to kiss your lips this time with more passion.

“I love you so much, love!”  

“I love you too!” I smile at him my lips grazing over his as I speak.

Just at that moment, his lips are pressed to yours, your bedroom doors open Jack and Luke standing in them bickering over something, but they stop as soon as they see you in this position.

“Oh sorry, we wanted to know, if you’ll come down, but as we see, I think we’ll probably leave,” Jack says scratching his neck in nervosity just like Luke.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea,” Dawson says sarcastically, his hands resting on your ass cheeks.

“Yeah, bye!” Luke shouts, shutting the door behind him. In a few minutes, the front door shuts too. You look at Dawson, letting out a laugh at the two of them.

2. DAWSON’S FIRST DOCTOR APPOINTMENT – OCTOBER

“Baby, come on. We’ll be late!” Dawson whines watching you put on some makeup while he’s lying in your bed, dressed in a simple black tee and suit pants.

You’re sitting behind your makeup table applying your red lipstick, watching him lay on the bed, his hands under his head making him flex his arm muscles.

“Jesus, Daws, we have like an hour before we have to be here, and the way here took us only ten minutes so calm down.” You groan at his eagerness. You continue to apply your makeup this time mascara trying not to get it on your eyelids.

“Sorry, I’m just looking forward to it so fucking much! We’ll see our baby, maybe hear his heartbeat. Oh man, I want to see him so bad!” he smiles at you happily, your lips quirking up at his expression.

“Him?” you let out when you realized what he actually said.

“Yeah, I have this feeling it’ll be a boy.” He nods, his gaze glutted on you through the mirror.

“If you say so!” you surged your shoulders looking at him through the mirror with a smile.

“You look beautiful,” he says after a while looking at you through the mirror. “I’m so lucky to have you!”

“I am so lucky to have you,” you smile at him through the mirror. “Okay, I’m ready, we can go.”

“Finally,” he groans getting up from the bed, almost tripping over his foot as he gets to you. You let out a small laugh earning a glare from him. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I am not laughing at you,” you say through your laughs. His hands make their way to your waist tickling you. “I’m not!” you squeal hitting Dawson in the ribs accidentally.

“Oh,” he groans letting go of you. “What was that for?” he looks at you, rubbing his ribs.

“I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to.” You say through laughs hand resting on your bell.

“Yeah, sure.” He says in a sarcastic tone moving away from me.

“Where are you going?” your laugh stops as you see him approach the door.  

He turns at you, his lips in pout making you laugh. “Away from your aggressiveness,” he says like a baby. You stand up, and walk toward him, making grabby hands at him, knowing he won’t resist you.  “Jesus woman.” He groans, pulling you in his chest and kissing the top of your head.

“Okay dad, you wanna hear the baby's heartbeat?” the doctor asks while he’s doing something on the monitor.

“Yeah, hundred percent. Please.” He let out avidly. The biggest smile you’ve ever seen is now dancing on his lips while his hand is holding yours in a tight grip.

“Okay, here we go.” The doctor fastens a belt over my belly so we can hear the heartbeat, and then he clicks something on the screen. A while later, the room is filled with the sound of our baby's heartbeat. “Shit,” Dawson lets out, bringing your hands to his mouth. You look up at him, tears in your eyes just like in his. He’s looking at the monitor with adoration in his teary eyes.

“Sorry,” he chuckles when the doctor looks him in the eyes. The doctor just shakes his head laughing at his reaction.

“That’s okay, I heard worst.” You laugh with the doctor looking at the monitor where is your little baby.

His little fingers are clenched in fists, in front of his face and his little legs are raised up. You look back at Dawson, melting at the sight. His eyes are glutted to the screen as he’s listening to the heartbeat. Your interlocked hands are still at his mouth, kissing your knuckles, tears running down his cheeks.

“Don’t cry, baby,” you coo, your thumb running along his knuckles.

“I’m not crying,” he whispers his voice croaking in the middle.

“Yeah, you are.” You chuckle bringing your hands to your mouth this time, kissing his knuckles. He bends down, kissing the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a while.

“Okay, if you are done with the listening, I can print you the photos and that would be all for today.” The doctor looks at us, a questioning gaze on his face.

You both just nod your heads, his lips still pressed against my forehead. The doctor looks away from you with a smile on his face and clicks something on the monitor then turns at us again.

“Two are enough?” you nod your head but Dawson's hand in the air stops us.

“No, twelve, please, and if it's possible in digital form too.” He yelps, covering his mouth with giggles.

“Yeah sure, I can send it to Miss y/l/n's email if that’s okay.” he looks your way cocking his brows.

“Yeah, that’s completely fine.” You nod your head, taking the tissue the doctor hands you to wipe your belly from the gell.

“Thank you.” You mumble cleaning your belly. When you’re done, Dawson helps sit up and cover your belly.

“Okay, here you go.” The doctor hands you the photos with paper with the date of another control. You shove it in your handbag standing from the bed.

“Thank you so much, doctor, really appreciate it,” Dawson says almost bowing down for him.

“It’s alright, that’s why I’m doing this job.” He smiles at us as he shakes our hands saying goodbye to us.

With interlocked hands, you make your way out of the ordination to your car. The walk is quiet which is weird for you because he’s never quiet, he always has something to say.  

“You, okay?” you tug at his hand your brows furrowed, but you don’t get your answer. You look at him his gaze at the floor as you’re walking towards your car. “Dawson?” you tug at his hand again this time harder for him to get out of the trans.

“Yeah...uhm, sorry love. I got lost in my mind.” He lets out a sigh turning your hands around your neck, so his hand is resting on your shoulder and yours is still interlocked with his in the air next to your head.

“Yeah, I saw,” You chuckle kissing his hand. “Everything’s alright?”

“Yeah, I’m totally fine. I just still hear the sound of the heartbeat in my ears. I-I know you heard it before but…” he trails off, the sparkle in his eyes as he talks about your baby making the butterflies in your belly go crazy.

“I know that feeling, hon, I felt the same.” Smiling up at him, you earn a cheeky grin from him and a kiss on the tip of your nose.

He nods his head and stops in front of your car. He opens the door for you helping to get in.

“I love you so much. I’m so grateful you are the woman who is carrying my child.” He leans down pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. You smile at him softly leaning in for another kiss.

3. TELLING THE DEVILS – DECEMBER

Three months. For three months you were listening to Dawson’s complaints about why you can’t tell the devils and family about the baby.

Of course, you told him, that the first three months are risky, and no one should know about it, but he’s been so excited about it, that he wanted to tell the world.

You get that, you wanted to tell the world too, but not now. Everything could happen in the last three months. You have a week till the end of the third month so then you can finally tell everyone.

“Baby!” you shout in from the kitchen as you are making snacks for yourself.

“Comin’,” you can hear some shuffling coming from the living room, the sound of bare feet hitting the floor following. “I’m here. What’s going on?” his voice is full of concern, his hands resting on your hips probably to support you from stumbling. Even though you're in the third month you have quite a big bump. The doctor, even if you think that you might have twins, you won’t be able to find out until your control in two days.

“Uhm, nothing really, just wanna tell you that maybe next week we can tell the devils and family if you want?” you smile at him over your shoulder, pressing a quick peck on the corner of his mouth.

“For real?” his eyes wide just like his smile. Quickly he turns you around a knife still in your hand as you look up at his eyes. You just nod your head smiling up at him. His eyes fill up with love and happiness. He bends down, pressing a firm kiss to your lips. “I love you, jeez I love you so fucking much y/n,” he mumbles in your lips, causing a laugh to escape your lips.

“I love you too,” mumbling in your lips you carefully press the tip of your knife to his chest, making him shiver. “But if you ever leave me, I’ll kill you and you know I will.” You whisper in his earth, tongue running over his earlobe.

He groans at the feeling of your warm tongue on his skin, stepping close, the knife pressing more into his chest. “I’d rather kill myself than ever leave you.” His hands travel up your hips as they land on the sides of your breasts.

You smile up at him, the hand with the knife slowly sliding down his torso and stomach ‘till it’s by your side. “Well, then,” you turn back to the food, you were cutting, with a smirk on your face when you catch a glimpse of his dropped jaw.

“Oh, you little teaser,” he lets out a chuckle tickling your sides and making you shriek with laughter as you drop the knife down. “I’m gonna tickle you until you say you love me and that you  know I would never leave you.” He laughs in your ear his hands not stopping in their job.

“Okay!” you manage to get out between laughs. “Okay, I LOVE YOU!” you scream out laughing as he doesn’t seem to stop. "I LOVE YOU." you laugh nudging Daws in his ribs. “And I know you won’t leave me!” you say out of breath from the laughing. This makes him stop his tickling. He turns you around pulling you into a tight hug rocking both of you side to side as he’s pressing kisses to the top of your head.

„I love you too, my pretty girl.“

“What’s going on with you, y/n?” Jack’s girlfriend asks you nudging your shoulder with hers, as you’re standing behind the glass watching the Devils having later morning practice.

“Oh, nothing just tired.” You look at her from under your lashes trying to resist the urge to yawn. At night you couldn’t sleep. Your back has been hurting for a while now and the only comfortable position to sleep is on the back. Dawson somehow managed you to fall asleep, but sleeping only five hours isn’t something you’re familiar with.

“Busy night?” she wiggles her brows giggling. You just shake your head chuckling. The whole team is still wondering how someone like her is with Jack. She’s the most innocent person you met, yet she’s with the dirtiest man on this planet.

“No, but you seem glowing, what’s up with you?” you nudge her arm this time smiling at her.

“I’m feeling so happy. Like I never did in a few years. Jack and I are doing amazing, And I think I’m starting to find my way to Luke which is awesome because I want his family to like me, which I know is kinda hard with my personality.” She chuckles the biggest smile sitting on her lips. You’ve never seen her this happy, and you have what to talk about. You knew her even before she started dating Jack and she never smiled like this.

“I’m so happy for you, love!”

“Okay, guys! Practice is over, you can go now, take a shower, and then you can leave.” Nico shouts just when you stop talking, making you both turn your heads at the ice. Dawson is already looking at you, a nervous smile lingering on his lips. “But before that, Dawson here would like to tell us something.” Nico turns at him, nodding at him as he skates over to other guys.

“Okay, can everyone, you girls too, come on the ice, please?” he asks nervously shuffling his skates over the ice.

“What’s going on?” Jack’s girl asks you, with furrowed brows, you just shake your head ushering her to get on the ice.

“You’ll see.” You smile at her as soon as you step on the ice. Jack hands, both of you, hands so you won’t slip on the ice. As soon as you’re on the ice, Dawson skates toward you helping you walk over the place he was standing earlier. His hands wrap around your waist, making sure you won't slip.

“Okay, if everyone’s here, I and y/n have something big to tell-” However, before he has a chance to finish his sentence, Jack interrupts him.

“You proposed?” he shouts, eyes wide.

“No,” Dawson shakes his head chuckling. “But that might happen soon.” he smiles down at you squeezing your hip.

“So, what is the big news?” Luke asks this time, confusion written all over his face.

“I and Dawson,” I look up at him with a smile, making sure I can speak. “We’re having a baby.” You shout together raising your hand in the air with a big smile on your face. Within a second, everyone skates towards you pulling you in hugs as they scream in happiness for you both.

“Oh my god, I am so happy for you, y/n.” Nicole, Jesper’s girlfriend, pulls you in a hug, jumping carefully with you.

“Y/n! You bitch!” Jack’s girlfriend shouts at you when Nicole lets you go.

“Sorry?” you laugh tightening your grip on her.

“I am so happy for you, my love!” she smiles at you pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Oh my god, I feel your bump!” She giggles, her hand wants to touch your belly, but she hesitates, knowing damn well that pregnant women don’t like it when someone touches their belly.

“It’s okay, you can,” you smile at her nodding her head.

“Oh, my goddess,” she whispers caressing it slightly. “You must be at least in the sixth month, right?” she smiles up at you.

“Uhm, no, I’m at the beginning of the fourth.” You laugh when you see her shocked expression.

“You know, our boy is a little bit bigger.” Dawson’s voice echoes next to your ear, his hands wrapping around you.

“I bet he is.” She laughs, and Jack appears behind her hugging her from behind just like Jesper do to Nicole.

“Congratulations, y/n, I’m so happy for you.” Jack smiles reaching his fist to you. You let out a laugh fist bumping him and then Jesper.

After everyone congratulates you on the pregnancy, they leave the ice, leaving you, Daws, Nicole, Jesper, Jack, and his girl, Luke, and Nico on the ice alone.

For the next ten or so minutes you talk about your pregnancy, and everything connected with that. The girls enthusiastically suggest that when you know the gender, they will organize a gender reveal for you.

“Thank you, my love,” Dawson whispered in your ear kissing your neck. “For keeping up with me these past three months.”

“Well, I have to keep up with you, right?” you laugh at him, kissing his cheek.

4. TELLING THE FAMILY – DECEMBER

Five years, that’s how long you know Dawson’s family. Five long years, yet you are afraid to tell them about the baby. The same fear you have of your family. Your mother is a strict one, she was against you and Dawson from the beginning of your relationship.

It’s December now, Christmas Day is tomorrow to be exact. This means your families are here, in your house for a week, during the whole Christmas.

They wanted to stay till the new year, but you told them that you and the guys would be celebrating together.

Now, you, your mom, and Dawson’s mom Charlotte are in the kitchen finishing the food you will have for dinner today. You are in your fourth month, so your belly is visible now. You’re wearing, a pink fuzzy dress with long sleeves which ends below your knees.

“Can I help you somehow?” Jennifer, Dawson’s sister, appears in a kitchen, fiddling with her fingers.

“Sure honey, can you stir the soap, please?” you look at her over your shoulder with a big smile. You love his family so much, but the feeling of telling them, you’re having their son's child.

“Okay.” She nods her head, walking over the stove.

“How’s hockey, Jess?” you ask with concern. Jess is like your sister you never had, growing up like an only child, you always wanted a sibling, but your mom was glad to have you, yet another kid. She was lucky to make it through your birth.

“Oh, I think I’m doing great, I’m a captain assistant, now, since the one left for another college.” Her voice is full of happiness, and you can hear the love for the sport in her voice. This is the thing that she shares with her siblings.

“That’s cool! And how’s college?” you smile at her as you walk over to the table, to set it up for dinner.

“Great, my GPA is 3.9. I messed up one of the tests.” She sighs shaking her head, disappointed.

“Hey, that’s amazing! I never had this GPA; I was always around 3.7 as I was a nerd.” You chuckle, hoping this makes her feel better.

“Really? I thought you always had 4.0.” she looks at you surprised.

“Never,” you chuckle shaking your head while you’re setting the table. “I was always so nervous during the exam.”

“Wanna help?” Dawson asks as he stands in the doorframe. You look up at him with a soft smile on your red lips.

“No, that’s okay,” smiling up at him, you squeeze his biceps, leaning over the table to place here plates. “We’ll call you when the food is ready.”

“Okay,” he kisses your forehead, a smile lingering on his lips. “Don’t be nervous my love.” He whispers, looking down into your eyes.

“The dinner was perfect, ladies,” Dawson’s dad, Craig, smiles at us, as he’s wiping his mouth with napkin. “Delicious.”

“Yeah, it was so delicious, I’d eat more, but I’m so full, I’m afraid my stomach will explode.” Dawson chuckles, caressing his belly. You pat his tight leaving your hand there. Dawson looks at you with a smile, patting your tight in return, taking his hand away and resting it on his belly.

“Y/n, your dress looks so cozy, where is it from?” Your mom asks, looking at you from head to toe.

“Oh, I don’t, know, I bought it on the internet, I’ll send you a link!” your free hand grasps the glass with water. You sip from it, resting it back on the table.

“So, if you’re done, we can move to the living room, to watch some movie or something?” you suggest watching everyone’s reaction. They share looks as they nod their heads in yes.

“Okay, you can go, I’ll make some popcorn and take chips,” standing from your seat, Dawson follows you right behind, his hand on your lower back. You look at him, smiling, but you stop as soon as you see your mom's and Charlotte’s faces.

“We’ll help you.” They say at the same time, your brows pulled together in confusion.

“That’s, okay, Dawson will help me, I need to talk to him for a while.” You give them a tight smile, dragging him to the kitchen as soon as they leave.

“What’s wrong, love?” Dawson asks you, stopping your hands from opening the chips.

“They know,” you whisper, looking over to the living room, watching your moms gossip about something, probably your pregnancy. “They know I’m having your baby.” You look at him, tears threaten to spring out.

“Hey, ‘s okay, we wanted to tell them anyway,” he shushed you, his hands making their way to your cheeks. “And if they know, they look excited, so you don’t have to worry, okay.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” You wipe the tears away, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his lips.

When you’re done opening the chips, and popping the popcorn, you make your way to the living room, placing it on the coffee table.

“Okay, everybody, listen up!” Daws claps his hands together and draws all the attention to himself. “Me and y/n have something important to tell you.” His hand wraps around your waist pulling you closer to him.

Your mom looks up at you, a wide grin on her lips just like on Charlottes.

“So?” your dad looks at you his brows cocked. “Speak?”

“I and Daws, uhm,” you breathe out grasping onto Dawson’s biceps. “We’re having a baby.” You let out, a soft smile on your lips.

“Oh, my god! Congratulations!” Jessica shouts, jumping at both of you and pulling you in a hug.

“Thank you!” you smile at her, tightening your grip on him.

“I’m going to be an uncle!” Riley, Dawson’s brother yells, pulling Dawson in a hug and spinning him around, making all of us laugh.

“I’m so happy for you, my babygirl.” Your mom pulls you in a hug, kissing the side of your head. Dad comes up to you, pulling you both in his embrace.

“So proud of you, y/n,” he whispers in your ear when mom leaves to hug Dawson. “I’ll try my best to be the grandpa he or she won’t forget.”

“You will, dad. You already are.” You smile up at him, kissing his cheek. You pull away from him, only to be pulled in another warm embrace this time by Craig and Charlotte.

“Thank you, honey,” Charlotte choked out, tears running down her cheeks. “Thank you, for giving me a grandchild.”

“Thank you, for giving me your son.” You smile at both of them. Soon you’re, pulled out of their embrace, and spun around by Riley.

“Oh my god! Riley! Stop!” you shirk out a laugh as you grip hard his shoulders.

“Asshole, putt her down!” Daws laughs. He pulls you in himself as soon as your feet touch the ground kissing the top of your head. “It wasn’t that bad right?” he whispers in your ear chuckling.

“Oh, shut up.”

5. GENDER REVEAL – JANUARY

It’s here. Today is the day we got to know our baby's gender. You and Dawson are sitting in the locker room of Prudential Center, your hands interlocked as he draws small patterns of heart on your skin.

Your leg is bouncing with anticipation. You’re so excited about the gender reveal. You knew this was going to be big when Nico and Jack were the ones to organize it.

“Y/n! Dawson!” Jack’s shouting comes closer with each second until he shows up in the room. “Come with me.” He says with a big smile urging you two to come.

“Not so fast, Jack! I’m pregnant!” Jack is at least two meters ahead of you when you call after him. He turns around waiting for you impatiently as you and Dawson slowly approach him. “Thank you.” You smile at him and hook your arm around his.

“No, ‘s okay!” he looks down at you grinning. Soon he stops both of you, holding two bandanas in his hands. “Put it on, I and Nico will get you on the ice.”

Quickly you look at Dawson, his eyes are already on you as he’s chuckling and shaking his head. “Okay. But be careful with y/n.”

“Don’t worry, Daws, I’ll be the one to lead her.” Nico laughs walking over to us, dressed in sweatpants and a shirt, skates on his feet, just like on Jack’s and Dawson’s.

“Thanks, at least the more responsible one.” He teases, watching Jack’s face turn into a shocked expression.

“Okay, put it on, we don’t have all day for this.” Jack urges us, slowly jumping in one place.

“Okay, grab my hands tightly, I’ll make sure you won’t fall.” Nico squeezes your hands, pulling you lightly to him. You stumble over your feet, but Nico catches you, his hands squeezing your hips.

“Sorry.” You mumble stepping away from him with a small laugh.

“No worries. Now slowly okay, step by step, I’ll tell you when we approach the ice.” He says slowly and distinctly, slowly starting to move towards the ice.

“Okay,” you let out a deep breath slowly walking towards the ice. You can hear Dawson swearing, as he crashes in the bench.

“Shit!” he lets out again. “Jack, where the fuck are you!” he yells.

“In front of you!” his laugh carried through the rink.

“Son of a bitch!”

You and Nico let out laughs at them, knowing damn well, Jack is probably on the ice, laughing his ass off. You squeeze his hands when you stumble again, this time, you don’t fall on him, continuing in your walk. Soon you’re on the ice, Nico leading you carefully somewhere, probably to the net.

“Okay, you can take off the bandanas,” Jack shouts at you. You pull it off of your eyes, adjusting to the light. “Now, Dawson, in front of you are seven pucks. In the net is a plastic glass. The pucks are filled with colors. Black for boy, red for girl. The puck is not as hard as a normal puck, so it will be easy to break as soon as it hits the glass. The color that will be in four pucks is the winning one!” a proud smile lingering on Jack’s lips. Nico skates over to us, handing Dawson his stick and gloves.

“To make it not so fast, we have two more attractions here,” Nico announces, skating in the middle of the rink. “Here we have tic-tac-toe, You Daws, you’ll be shooting the puck where y/n tells you.” The circles are colored on one side only, so now they are all turned with the wood side on us. But the first color that has three in a row, that’s the winning one. If the first winner is a boy and the second is a girl, then we have the last, but that later.”  He skates back to us. Other guys and family members are sitting on the bench or the boards or just standing on the ice watching you two.

“Okay, you start whenever you want!” Luke shouts this time, his voice full of excitement.

Dawson skates over to you kiss your lips. “I’m so excited!” he whispers excitement in his voice.

“Me, too.” You smile up at him, your hands around his chest as you slowly walk to the pucks.

“Okay, you choose the pucks, okay?”

“Sure,” you nod your head, looking down at the pucks. Your hands shot to your belly resting there, a smile spread on your lips.

Dawson can’t take his eyes off of you. You look so stunning in black leggings and his jersey, his name written on your back, the jersey loose on you, but your belly still visible.

“Okay, this one!” you skate to him, pointing at one of the pucks. He uses his stick to take the puck and skates far from the net so he can shoot. You smile at him and nod your head, that's a signal for Daws to swing his stick and shoot the puck into the glass. The puck breaks, and red powder flies through the air.

A sound of cheers is carried through the rink as Dawson skates over to you wrapping one arm around your waist and leaning down to your ear. “See, girl.” He laughs kissing your temple. You just shake your head, pushing him slightly away from you, so he can shoot another puck.

You point at another puck, hoping, this time it’ll be black powder. You have talked about this before all the time. Everyone was surprised when they found out that you were the one who wanted a boy. On the other side, there is Daws who wants a girl so he can spoil her.

Dawson swings his stick, hitting the puck. This time black color. You shout in excitement doing a little dance, causing laughs to escape guys’ lips. You skate over to him, chest to chest. “See, boy!” you grin at him pointing your finger to his chest.

“Fine 1:1 we'll see who’ll be next.” This time he picked up the puck and shot it in the net. Another black. You look up at him wide grin on your lips. You pick him another puck, this time red. Two other pucks are shot, and the score is 3:3.

“Okay, last puck, then we get on the other part of the gender reveal.” Jack’s voice sounds through the rink, his face shines with happiness and joy that his friend is happy.

“And the winner of the first round is,” Nico clapped at his tights as drums, waiting for Dawson to shoot the last puck in. “GIRL!” he shouts just like all guys and Dawson too.

“Okay, before the last round, our score is tied. 1:1 for both, girls, and boys. For the last, we need you, to change into these white shirts,” Nico holds the shirts above his head motioning to us to skate over to him. “Go to the locker rooms, change then come back, the last one will be quick, so you won’t freeze.” He smiles when he sees your expression.

You make your way into the locker room, with Dawson hot on your tail. You both changed in the shirts, glad that Nico bought you a XXL.

“You look amazing!”

“Thank you, love.” You smile at him, tucking the shirt in your leggings on the back.

“Ready to find out, the gender of our baby, dove?” he walks over you, hooking his arms around your waist.

“Yeah, I can’t wait. I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, I just want them to be healthy.” You sigh looking him in the eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” He nods kissing the top of your head. “I just wish it’ll be girl, so I can call her my little princess and treat her like one, so let’s go find out what we have, okay?” interlocking your fingers, he leads you out of the locker room.

You squeeze his hand, as thoughts about what type of gender reveal is going to be this. You are so excited to find out the gender of your baby. You can’t wait to hold your baby in your arms. Just the thought of it makes you cling more to Dawson and makes your heart melt.

“Okay, for this you have to be blindfolded the whole time,” Luke says with a smile on his face, tying the bandanas around both your heads. “Now, we placed a rug on the ice, where you’ll sit the whole time,” he clears his throat. “The point in this reveal is following. You’ll be sitting across from each other the whole time. We put painton your hands. The color is the color of your baby's gender. All you’ll have to do is put the color on each other's shirt and maybe skin. Here is our photograph, he will take pictures of you two, then when we say, you’ll take off the bandana finding out what your baby is!” he ends his speech leaving you speechless. This was the most sensitive and emotional gender reveal you heard about.

You were surprised they were able to come up with this idea. You’re sure the wags had to help them come up with the idea because this is so emotional and the cutest gender reveal you’ve ever heard of.

The guys slowly take you on the ice, sitting you down on the rug. You’re glad you took warm leggings today because the ice is really cold.

“Okay, now, we’ll squeeze some paint on your hands, then you can start putting it on each other,” Luke says as he squeezes cold and wet paint on your palm. You spread the paint on your other hand and slowly stretch your arms out in front of you to place your hands on Dawson’s chest. He shivers under your touch, causing a laugh to escape your lips. His hands find their way to your boobs, squeezing them. You just shake your head laughing together with the guys, who whistle and shout.

“Like college boy!” you shake your head, a soft laugh escaping his lips.

“Okay, do some cute poses, so our photographer can take pictures of you!” you hear Nico say, his voice somewhere in your close presence.

After a few minutes, of touching yourself and laughing, Luke allows you to take the bandanas off. You look into his eyes, catching a glimpse of bright red color, staining Dawson's shirt, and your hands. Your eyes well up with tears, sob escaping your lips. Dawson’s eyes are wide, just like his smile. “We are having a baby girl!” he shouts, pulling you into him. He stands up with you, spinning you around, a laugh coming from your mouth. When he puts you down on the ground, his hands cup your cheeks, wiping the tears away. You look in his red eyes as he tries to hold the tears in. “I love you.” He sniffles, tears finally rolling down his cheek.

“I love you too, Dawson!” you sniffle, pulling his face closer you place your lips on his. The kiss is salty from the tears of joy. “We’re having a girl.” You say between kisses.

“Okay! Enough!” you look in the direction from where Jack’s voice comes. “There are kids!” Jack shouts, covering Luke’s eyes, and causing John and the other guys to snicker.

6. FIRST KICKS – FEBRUARY

Laying on your couch just in Dawson’s shirt and black shorts, an ice cream pack sitting on your belly as you watch Full House. Dawson is in the kitchen with John, Nico, and Jack talking about hockey, while Luke is sitting next to you, eating ice cream with you, and laughing at Michelle's quotes.

It's five weeks later after the gender reveal, you’re in six month, and your belly looks like watermelon. The baby should start kicking any day, which is why Dawson is by your side at every free moment he has. The only reason he’s not next to you right now is that boys are here with him, and you are really glad.

“Sup? You’re quiet today,” Luke nudges your shoulder, causing a drop of ice cream to drop on your shirt. You glare at him, wiping the white substance away.

“Nothing, just my back hurts like bitch.” You complain, groaning when you try to sit up.

“Wait, let me help you.” He puts his ice cream on the coffee table just like yours, helping you up in a sitting position.

“Thanks,” you send him a grateful smile, reaching for your ice cream. There is silence for a while between the two of you, but suddenly you remember how he talked about this girl a few weeks earlier. “Did you ask the girl out?” you probably caught him off guard by the question, because the ice cream he was eating got stuck in his throat, causing him to cough.

“Ugh… no, uhm. No, I didn’t. I was too afraid to ask her and when I wanted, two days ago, she was out with some guy, so…” he shrugs his shoulder, taking a full spoon of ice cream in his mouth.

“And who was the guy?” you cock your brow at him, taking a full spoon of ice cream in your mouth, immediately regretting it because of the freezing feeling in your brain.

“Have no idea, probably her da-“ he didn’t even finish the answer, when you grasped his hand, putting it on your belly. He’s confused for a while, but he smiles as soon as he feels the movements. “Oh my god!”

“DAWSON!” you shout, making Luke flinch.

“What's wrong!” you hear his voice before he even gets in the living room, just like Nico, John, and Jack. They stop in front of you, confusion and horror written in their eyes.

“Gimme your hand.” You wave your hand in the air, signaling him, to reach his hand towards you. You pull him towards you, shoving Luke’s hand away, and you place Dawson’s shaky hand there, waiting for his reaction.

“Oh, my-“ he choked on his words and let out a chuckle as he pressed the other hand there too, crouching in front of you. “Is that?” he looks up at you, tears in his eyes and a big wide smile on his lips.

“Yeah, she’s kicking,” You smile at him, a single tear running down his cheek when your baby girl kicks him again. With a laugh he sits next to you, pulling you to his side. You look at the boys, urging them to come closer, they kneel in front of you, their eyes glutted to yours. “Here,” you place Nico’s hand on the right side of your belly, waiting for the baby to kick again. He lets out a chuckle when the girl kicks him in the hand. In a moment, he’s shoved away by Jack, whose hands are already on both sides of your belly waiting for her to greet him.

“Hi, baby girl! I’m your uncle Jack, the coolest one!” he says slightly caressing your belly when the baby kicks him.

Nico shakes his head shoving Jack away, talking to the belly. “No, I’m the coolest one!” John looks between the two of them, shaking his head as he shoves both of them away, his hand carefully pressing on your belly. “Hi there, pretty girl! I’m your uncle, John, I’m pretty sure we’ll be best buddies when you’ll be there with us.” His thumbs caress your skin over your shirt, a smile on his face just like on yours and Daw’s.

“Okay, none one of you is right,” Luke sighs rolling his eyes. “I’ll be the coolest uncle for her, so…” he shrugs, causing a laugh escaping your lips.

You move your attention to Dawson, his eyes already on you. You cock your brow at him, your head tilted to the side.

“You look gorgeous,” he whispers, kissing the side of your head. “Thank you, for carrying my baby.”

“Thank you, for being the best boyfriend-slash-bestfriend-slash-daddy in my life.” You smirk up at him, placing a soft kiss on his jaw.

You rest your head on his shoulder, enjoying the atmosphere here. The sound of boys bickering in the background as you listen to Dawson's heartbeat and concentrate on his hand on your belly.

These moments are rare, but you enjoy them so much. Being able to spend time with Dawson’s friends are the best days and nights of your life.

7. THE BABY'S NAME – MARCH & APRIL

“No!” you shook your head, pushing Dawson’s hand away from your tight so you could stand up. "I won't name our baby girl Junpiter, mom." you sigh squeezing the bridge of your nose.

“Come one, y/n! It's a beautiful name. You know, you were supposed to be named like that?” you can lively imagine the smile she's wearing now.

“Yeah, and I'm glad I don't. Can you imagine the bullying she'll get if I named her Junpiter? So no, mom, thank you for your tip, but I think I and Dawson can come up with a name that would suit our girl.” you say quickly, so she doesn't have a chance to interrupt you.

You stay on the call for a few minutes before you bid her goodbye ending the call.

“Junpiter, huh?” Dawson's hands sneak around your waist, his lips brushing on your neck as he speaks.

“Shut up!” you groan, tossing the phone on the couch. Dawson pulls you more into his chest, his hands making their way under your big belly, lifting it slightly, to relieve you from the weight. You let out a breath, your head falling on Dawson’s shoulder. “Thank you.” You whisper, kissing his neck.

“For you anything, my love,” a smile tugged at his lips when he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “But we really should come up with a name for her.”

“I already have one, but I don’t know if you'll like it.” You say quietly waiting for his reaction. Gently, he lets go of your belly, disapproving whimper leaves your mouth. He turns you around so you’re looking at him and walks you over to the couch to sit you down on his lap.

“Tell me.”

“Okay, I have a few names, but I like this the best,” you start, moving on his lap, to find the best position for your sitting. “Avery Charlotte Dawson.” You let out, biting your lower lip.

“You want to give our girl, a name after my mom?” he looks at you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.

“Yeah, I like your mom a lot, and when we have another baby, she’ll have a name after my mom.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Another baby?” he chokes on his saliva, coughing.

“Yeah, but not like right after this is out, maybe three or four years later, so they have some age gap, you know.” You grin up at him. He shakes his head, his hands playing with the hem of the shirt you’re wearing.

“I like the name,” he smiles after a while of silence. “A lot, thank you.” He leans in kissing the tip of your nose, then your cheeks, and the last kiss is finally on your lips. ”Our Aver Charlotte Dawson.” He presses his hand on your belly caressing it slightly.

“I love you,” you say dreamily, looking at him with a smile full of gratitude.

“Love you too.” He leans down, his forehead on yours smile painted across his lips. You tilt his head, meeting his lips in a quick, but delicate kiss.

8. THE BIRTH GIVING – MAY

“Where are my keys!” Dawson hurried into the kitchen looking for his car keys as you were standing at the door to your apartment, holding onto the wall to support your weak legs.

“Where you dropped them last night!” you snap at him, taking deep breaths in. It’s game day tonight, the devils made it to the playoffs and are playing the Panthers in the semifinal, but your baby girl decides that today is the day, she has to come to the world.

“Got them!” he yelps out, running to you. He takes your bag from the ground, tossing it over his shoulder. He wraps his hand around your waist, guiding you out of the apartment. “you’re doing amazing, my love.” He praised you when you got in the elevator. He pressed the button impatiently, waiting for it to move.

Your breathing quickens as soon as another contraction comes. You grip Dawson's hand, trying to control your breathing and the pain in your abdomen.

“Come on!” Dawson whines, watching the numbers on the elevator change, announcing you are finally on the last floor. “Okay, here we go.” He pulls you out, carefully as if you were some kind of porcelain doll.

“I’m not friangle Dawson! Get me in that car, or I’ll give birth here and you’ll be the one, getting the baby out!” you warn him, glare on your face. You know this is his biggest fear. He told you multiple times, that he’s afraid, that he’d be the one who’ll have to give birth to your girl with you. That you won’t make it to the hospital in time.

“Okay! I'm sorry!” he says in horror as he drags you down in the garage to get in a car and then in the hospital.

The ride to the hospital felt like hours for you, but it was only fifteen minutes. Dawson parks his car in the hospital parking lot, gets out, jogs to your side of the car, and helps you out of the car. Slowly you make your way into the hospital, your hand clutching your belly, when another contraction comes through you.

“My girlfriend is giving birth!” Dawson says to the nurse behind the reception, his breaths are heavy. You are sitting on the chair, your hands on your belly as you try to keep your breaths steady. “We need a room. VIP room!”

“Sir, we can’t give you a VIP room just like that.” The nurse shook her head, looking at him.

“I’m Dawson Mercer, the Devils hockey player!”

“Oh, yeah, sorry Mr. Mercer,” she swallows and starts typing something on the computer. “The room is ready, I send two nurses with you, they’ll help you with everything!”

“Come on mommy,” the doctor says from between your legs. “I already see the head. A few pushes and she’s out!” your breaths are heavy, sweat dripping down your forehead. Dawson is standing next to you, gripping your hand tightly, pressing kisses on your head.

“You’re doing amazing, love, just a few more minutes! You can do it!” he whispers in your hair, hissing when your grip on his hand tightness. You take in a deep breath and start to push.

“Here we go, momma! Keep pushing!” the doctor says. You can feel your pussy outstretch, pain shooting through your body. You let out a whimper, not wanting to scream.

“Last one push, mom! You can do it!” the doctor says, looking at you to make sure, you’re okay. You just nod pushing for the last time. The moment, the baby’s crying fills the room, you let out a sob, closing your eyes. You can feel Dawson’s lips on your forehead, while his tears drop down on your forehead.

“I’m so proud of you, my love!” he whispers in your ear, kissing your lips. “So fucking proud of you, baby.” His voice is shaky from the sobs he’s holding inside him.

“I love you!” your voice is trembling, from the exhaustion, and the pain that is shooting up your body.

“Here you go mom, the girl is healthy, she’s 19 inches tall, and she has a beautiful 7 pounds,” The nurse says as she places the baby girl on your bare chest. “You can try to give your breast if she wants your milk. If not, it’s completely okay!” you just nod, taking your breast in your hand, and moving your nipple to the baby's mouth. She’s lying calmly on your chest, her big brown eyes, are looking curiously at you, a small smile resting on your lips. The baby immediately sucks on your nipple, focusing on getting the milk.

“You did amazing, Mrs. y/l/n. One of the most quick and amazing patients I had. We’ll get you your room when we clean you and run some tests on the baby, to make sure the baby is really healthy,” he smiles at you, and then at Dawson, who’s eyes are focused on your baby. “Your family can visit you in a few hours, and by the way, congratulations, on the devil's win tonight.” The doctor directs his voice at Dawson who snaps his head toward him, a surprised look on his face.

“They won?” A smile is resting on his lips, just like on your lips.

“Yeah, 5:2. The boys said, the goals were scored for your daughter.” That makes tears well up in your eyes. You love the devils so much; they are your family.

“Oh my god, I have to text them as soon, as we’re in the room.” Dawson looks back at you, a big smile on his face.

“We have to take a picture,” you say, a hoarse voice coming from your throat, because of the last few hours without water. “And send it to them.”

“Here, drink it up.” The doctor hands you a glass of water. You drink the whole glass, laying your head back on the pillow.

“Thank you.” You mumble, a small smile on your lips when you look down on your girl.  

“Okay, now, we run the tests and clean you, then you can go to your room and your family can visit you, but I encourage you to be quieter because the baby will probably sleep, just like you.” The doctor says the last thing he wants and makes his way to do his job again.

[byfulcrums]

Seeing people saying that Satoru doesn't actually care about Suguru and that the only reason Kenjaku caught him was bc he was surprised to see a person he killed alive is fucking wild, man

Like. Gojo's entire life revolves around Geto. The entire series happens because he loved Suguru too much to kill him, even though he knew he would have to do it eventually. The world literally went to shit because he wasn't over him

Geto Suguru's life would be completely unimportant to the story without Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru's would be completely unimportant without Geto Suguru. They complement each other. They need each other

Two male betta fishes can't coexist. They will fight and one will die. They can't see each other — even if they're in different tanks, they won't be able to live. They'd eventually tire each other out, resulting in death. The only way for Satoru and Suguru's lives to be able to continue without the other would've been for them to never have met at all. And they can't be together. Not now, not ever again. Not while they're still alive. Not after everything that's happened

The entire story revolves around their relationship. Yuuji is a boy who ate a curse('s finger[s]), and Megumi is the prodigy who befriends him. Satoru is a prodigy, the strongest, and Suguru, the boy whose technique is eating curses, befriends him. The Jujutsu Kaisen story is all about parallels and they all connect to fucking Satosugu. It's all about them

The only reason Kenjaku's plan worked is because the body he used didn't belong to some random person Gojo killed, it worked because the body he used was Geto Suguru's, Gojo's one and only, his best friend. He must be thinking “Thank god they're gay” right now lmao

Gojo fucking hesitated. He hesitated multiple times when it came to Geto. He was supposed to kill him, yet he let him go. He has the Six Eyes, he could've easily tracked him down. He probably could tell if he was nearby (he can recognize Suguru from his scent) and just didn't go looking for him. And he could've so very easily escaped the trap that was set up for him, he was going to run away from it because we see him about to take that step but then Suguru's body shows up and says “Yo, Satoru!” with Suguru's voice and Satoru freezes and hesitates

They weren't able to let go of each other even after years of being separated (like a decade). When they meet, Suguru still greets Satoru warmly

Suguru is pretty much Satoru's moral code. He was the only person Satoru took at least mildly seriously pre-Toji (and we know Satoru just didn't do serious back then). He actually took his words to heart. He was kind, of course (especially from Suguru's PoV, since he's the person that knows him most), and not a bad person, but he wasn't nice. Suguru was always the ‘nice(r) one’, the one who actually had a moral code, while Satoru was more of an asshole to literally everyone and everything (some more, some less), thinking he and Suguru were above everyone else

When Suguru finally snaps (which, honestly. Fair) and goes genocidal (not so fair), Satoru slowly starts to be somewhat nicer and starts applying Suguru's old moral code to his own being — their roles weren't exactly reversed, but now they're not together anymore, so they might as well be. And Suguru was shown for having faith in the school and its system while it was Satoru the one who absolutely abhorred the higher-ups and all kinds of authority, but then it ended up with Suguru being the one to leave and become a cult leader with the blood of hundreds on his hands while Satoru was the one that stayed behind in the same place of the people he despises so much

(Imagine someone saying something like “Sometimes I doubt you even have a moral code” and Gojo answers with “Oh, my best friend my one and only is pretty much my moral code. He went homicidal a while back but it's okay haha” “...Actually, that explains a few things”)

Gojo doesn't have a god complex, but I wouldn't blame him if he did. I mean, he might as well be the closest thing to god human beings have ever seen. He used to put himself above everyone else, when he was a teenager. He thought that, the higher he was, the more he could do. And no one was better than him. But not Suguru. Back then, it wasn't “I'm the strongest” it was “We're the strongest and “We're the best” and “We're the ones that will beat you” and “We're the duo” and it was all about “us, us, us, us, us” instead of “me, me, me, me” like people thought it was — they were a pair. They still are

We know people thought and still think of Gojo as a weapon. As something that must be controlled, because on the moment he decides he doesn't want to be around them anymore, he could just straight up kill then without any effort (but getting rid of people in positions of power only gets other people in positions of power and it'll be a neverending story, and Gojo knows this so he's trying to do his best to fix it all through the younger generation, by letting them live). And we also know that Suguru is one of the very few people who did not believe that at all

Like their personalities and characters and stories and literally everything, their names complement each other. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru are such similar names, I get them mixed up all the time (the amount of times I've called them “Gojo Suguru” and “Geto Satoru” is embarassing. Also, “Saturu”. “Goto”. “Gejo”. Ugh). Both of their last names start with a G, end with an O and have 4 letters. Both of their given names start with an S, end with an U and have 6 letters. They complement each other. They need each other

The only times we've seen Gojo with an expression of actual pure, raw emotion is when it's about Geto. When he finds out about what Geto did, when he realizes how thin and wrong Geto looks, when he sees him again for what we assume to be the first time in years, when he dies, when a thing wearing his corpse and using his voice greets him (“Yo, Satoru!” oh my god)

Suguru was able to fight back when in Kenjaku's control after Satoru said his name. Kenjaku himself says that had never happened before

And you don't even have to see them as romantic. You don't have to ship them if you don't want to. But you can't deny that they care about each other more than they will ever care about anyone else

[mtchee]

[IMAGINE] Living with Cat! Gojo | GN

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, cat! jjk au, non sorcerer au, cat! gojo, kitty satoru, fluff, he's a little shit, love my cat series aww

[1.6k]

| masterlist | jujutsu kaisen collection |

Imagine living with cat! Gojo Satoru. You have no idea where he's from, or who his owner is--but apparently it's you now.

You first saw him loitering obnoxiously outside your region's specialty sweets shop, and he was pawing at the window display longingly. Then suddenly, his head turned to you and he hasn't left you alone since.

When he sauntered over, you cooed and gave him some attention before heading on your way. The strange cat followed you for a bit, and you gently shooed him off a few times before he relented. It was only when you finally got home that you realised he actually hadn't.

He popped up in front of your door bright and early the next morning, sitting all poised and beaming at you before letting himself in.

His fur was too clean to have been out in the streets for long, and he was much too well groomed to be a stray.

But he was yours now, it seemed. Or maybe you were his.

Either or.

Imagine living with cat! Gojo Satoru, one of the prettiest cats you have ever seen.

He's fat.

Or at least, it looks like he is at first.

He's incredibly fluffy, with pristine white fur and the most darling baby pink paws. His eyes are an entrancing cerulean blue, though hidden behind a pecular pair of rounded blackout specs that fit perfectly proportionate to his kitty face. He didn't have a collar--still doesn't with you.

Instead, you had found his name engraved in tiny elegant lettering on the temple of his accessory.

Cat! Gojo Satoru is long. You had been fooled into his thickness from the look of all his fluff, but then when you held him and let him dangle, he just extended.

You had been kneeling when you had first done so, holding him out at arms length from under his shoulders and his hind legs were comfortably touching the ground. You were shocked, all the whilst he went slack and let you manoeuvre him however you wanted.

Imagine living with cat! Gojo Satoru, who fucking yaps nonstop.

He's a chatty little thing, and awfully entitled too.

Just like when he first appeared and walked into your house like he'd always lived there, he abides by his own whims no matter what.

While you buy the prettiest decorative pillows, he kneads them and pokes holes in them like it's nobody's business while shaking off his fur all over. Now, along with his furballs, you see tuffs of the pillows stuffing sticking out from his claw marks.

When you buy him the best kitty bed that you can afford (accompanied by the softest blanket), he turns up his nose and rolls himself around on your clean bedsheets.

He ignores his scratching post in favour of the leg of your dining table.

He would rather starve than eat any of his dry food.

He will not just be drinking tap water--it must be served nice and cold from the fridge. He will also not drink any sort of cat-safe milk. He wants it fresh and full cream. If you have any sort of milk substitutes (whether it be skim, almond, whatever), that won't fly. No, you have a full-cream carton just for him.

Also, whipped cream. He loves it.

God forbid you run out.

He will find a way into your kitchen cabinets and pantry, and he will be eating any and all of the sweets you have stored. Sour gummies? Devoured. Hard boiled candy? Those sugar rocks are done for. Complimentary chocolate? Not a single crumb left behind.

You have no idea how he isn't dead yet.

Imagine cat! Gojo Satoru constantly starving for your attention. He'll yowl, mewl, trill, scream--anything for just a lick of your time.

Imagine cat! Gojo Satoru frightening away your creep of a neighbour who was trying to force his way into your home.

With your eyes slightly glossy from fear of what could happen to you, features perpetually frozen in an expression of discomfort and fright--your cat weaves between your legs with a sweetened "mreow?" before taking seat by your feet.

He tilts his head at the sight of the unwelcome disgrace of a human being leering in towards you, leaning threateningly against your door frame. Despite cat! Gojo's light hearted trill, his fluffy tail swishes agressively from side to side behind him.

A quiet panic latches onto your heart--you don't know if you could bear it if anything happened to him too. "Satoru, inside please," your voice trembles as you whisper at him.

Your neighbour glances down, puffing a condescending laugh at the fluffy cat before taking a step forward and reaching for your arm.

You don't really remember what happened after that. You don't recall blacking out, or maybe it all happened in a blink? Either way, by the time you regained your senses, the offender was scattering off with a series of wounds littering his form, and a scorch mark was left where he once stood in his wake. You swallow wearily, processing everything.

Cat! Gojo plants his fluffy butt back down by your feet, licking at his front paw indifferently before looking up at you with his big, sunglass clad eyes.

When you let out a soft breath of relief and incredulity, he sticks out his little pink tongue with a dopey cat-grin.

Imagine cat! Gojo Satoru, escaping and wandering off for hours at a time, only to come back with some sort of (rather expensive) gift in his clutches.

He's the adventerous sort. Although he loves to laze around the house, he gets the urge to be up and off, and he'll annoying weasel between your legs and make you trip up before heading on his way.

He might leave for the day, but by the evening he always returns. Sometimes you'll find him waiting patiently at your door like you did when you first found him, this time with something akin to an offering sitting at his paws.

Other times he'll already be back in the house, awaiting you leisurely with his present sat nearby.

He's popped up with a paper bag of pricey chocolates (perhaps in replacement of the ones he ate in your pantry?), a pouch of authentic ginger and tea leaves (you'd been complaining about getting migraines recently...), a cashmere scarf (winter is getting closer, where the HELL did he nick a CASHMERE SCARF from!?), and a thin, 22-carat gold chain from GOD KNOWS WHERE.

Whenever you scold him for stealing, he never looks abashed. If anything, he goes out the next day and returns with something even more expensive for you to panic about.

Imagine having a bad day and indulging in your most bed-rotting desires with cat! Gojo Satoru.

Normally you wouldn't eat in bed. You don't like the feeling of grain or bits and pieces poking you in your sleep. Aside from the occassional, mostly able to eat clean meal, you wouldn't eat in bed.

But today--today is an exception. What started as a decent morning turned into an annoying afternoon and a shitty evening. A flurry of emotions battle within you: frustration, irritation, sadness, confusion, annoyance--it ate up at you.

So after getting home and foregoing a shower to change into some old, tatty pyjamas to make you feel even more miserable, you'd picked out your most unhealthy snacks to take out your upset on.

When you get home, normally you'd greet cat! Gojo happily, or at least with a cuss after he trips you up in his excitement, but after a simple sigh and sad, passing smile, he knew something was up.

And so the graceful feline joins you on your bed, padding softly over the covers to stare at you uncomfortably. And when you notice and wave him away with a scrunched nose, finally he scoots closer and rolls onto his back, wriggling up to you with a gentle playfulness that you can't help but indulge.

You poke at his paws when he stretches them out at you, and for once, you decide to share your pile of treats with him. Together, you crunch down on some chips, chew on some candy, eat all your chocolate, and gradually spoon away all your ice cream.

And even when it's all gone, cat! Gojo lays with you some more before gently coaxing you up and guiding you towards your bathroom, urging you to wash the crappy day away.

And when you're done, he's waiting for you on the bed with the messy doona dragged off and replaced with a clean one, pillows fluffed and his favourite plush toy placed as an offering.

Imagine cat! Gojo Satoru taking up a majority of your bed at night because he refuses to sleep elsewhere. Not only does he take over your bed, but also your space.

Where you go, he goes.

When you decide to nap on the couch, he'll flop himself onto your tummy and crawl up to your chest, splaying himself over your body like a weighted blanket.

If you decide to take a nap outside on the grass, he'll lay tummy-up with his head pressed against yours, the both of you soaking in the warmth of the sun. Or, shoulder the weather be a little chilly, he'll cosy up to your side, flopping across your arm and nuzzling into your neck.

On your bed, if you shift so much as an inch, he follows. Where this might lead you to balance precariously on the edge of your side of the bed, eventually he'll just flop on top of you since you keep moving away.

He's a clingy little shit.

But to be honest, you wouldn't have him any other way.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Bankruptcy is very, very good

On THURSDAY (June 20) I'm live onstage in LOS ANGELES for a recording of the GO FACT YOURSELF podcast. On FRIDAY (June 21) I'm doing an ONLINE READING for the LOCUS AWARDS at 16hPT. On SATURDAY (June 22) I'll be in OAKLAND, CA for a panel and a keynote at the LOCUS AWARDS.

There's a truly comforting sociopathy snuggled inside capitalism ideology: if markets are systems for identifying and rewarding virtue, ability and value, then anyone who's failing in the system is actually unworthy, not unlucky; and that means the winners are not just lucky (and certainly not merely selfish), but actually the best and they owe nothing to their social inferiors apart from what their own charitable impulses dictate.

It's an economic wrapper around the old theological doctrine of providence, whereby God shows you whom he favors by giving them wealth and station, and marks out the wicked by miring them in poverty. And like the religious belief in providence, the capitalist belief in meritocracy is essential to resolving cognitive dissonance: it lets the fed winners feel morally justified in stepping over the starving losers.

The debate over merit and luck has been with us for millennia, and even the hereditary absolute monarchs of the Bronze Age had to find a way to resolve it. For the rulers of antiquity, the way to square that circle was jubilee.

Bronze Age jubilees were periodic celebrations in which all debts were canceled. Different kingdoms had different schedules for jubilees, but imagine some mix of "every x years" and "every time a new ruler takes the throne" and "every time something really portentous happens." To modern sensibilities, the idea that we would simply wipe away all debts every now and again is almost inconceivable. Why would any society practice jubilee? More importantly, how could a ruler get the wealthy creditor class to countenance a jubilee, rather than seeking a revolutionary overthrow?

The best answers to this question can be found in the scholarship of historian Michael Hudson, who has written extensively on the subject. Hudson doesn't just write for a scholarly audience, he's also a fantastic communicator with a real commitment to bringing his research to lay audiences:

https://michael-hudson.com/

Hudson's most famous saying is "debts that can't be paid, won't be paid." It's in this dense little nugget that we can find the answer the the riddle of jubilee:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/29/jubilance/#debt

Let's start with a simple model of debt and credit in an agricultural society. In agricultural societies, everything exists downstream of farming, which is the core activity of the civilization. If the farmers succeed, everyone can eat, and that means they can do all the other things, all the not-farming work of your society.

To farm successfully, you need credit. Farmers enter the growing season in need of inputs: seed, fertilizer, labor; they need still more labor during the harvest. Without some way to acquire these inputs before the farmer has a crop that can pay for them, there can be no crop.

No wonder, then, that the earliest "money" we have a record of is ancient Babylonian credit ledgers that record the debts of farmers who borrow against the next crop to pay for the materials and labor they'll need to grow it. Debt, not barter, is the true origin of money. The fairy tale that coin money arose spontaneously to help bartering marketgoers facilitate trade has no historical evidence, while Babylonian ledgers can be seen in person in museums all over the world.

Farming requires an enormous amount of skill, but even the most skillful farmer is a prisoner of luck. No matter how good you are at farming, no matter how hard you work, no matter how carefully you plan, you can still lose a harvest to blight, drought, storms or vermin.

So over time, every farmer loses a crop. When that happens, the farmer can't pay off their debts and must roll them over and pay them off with future harvests. That means that over time, the share of each harvest the farmer has claim to goes down. Thanks to compounding interest, no bumper crop can erase the debts of the bad harvests.

That means that, over time, "farmer" becomes a synonym for "debtor." Farmers' productive output is increasingly claimed by the rich and powerful. No matter how badly everyone needs food, the whims of the hereditary creditor class come to dictate the country's agricultural priorities. More ornamental flowers for the tables of the wealthy, fewer staple crops for the masses. "Creditor" and "debtor" no longer describe economic relations – they become hereditary castes.

That's where jubilee comes in. Without some way to interrupt this cycle of spiraling debt, society becomes so destabilized that the system collapses:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/08/jubilant/#construire-des-passerelles

In other words: debts that can't be paid, won't be paid. Either you wipe away the farmers' debts to the creditor class, or your society collapses, and with it, the political relations that made those debts payable.

Jubilee is long gone, but that doesn't mean that debts that can't be paid will get paid. Modern society has filled the jubilee gap with bankruptcy, a legal process for shriving a debtor of their debts.

Bankruptcy takes many forms. The most important split in bankruptcy types is between elite bankruptcy and the bankruptcy of the common person. The limited liability company was created to allow people with money to pool their funds to back corporations without being responsible for their debts. This "capital formation" is considered "efficient" by economists because it creates the backing for big, ambitious projects, from colonizing and extracting the wealth of distant lands (Hudson's Bay Company) to spinning up global manufacturing supply chains (Apple).

Limited liability means that companies can take on debt without exposing their investors to risks beyond their capital stake. If you buy $1,000 worth of Apple stock, that's all you stand to lose if Apple makes bad decisions. Apple may rack up billions in liabilities – say, by abusing its subcontractor workforce – but Apple's owners aren't on the hook for it.

Economists like this because it means that you can invest in Apple without having to be privy to its daily management decisions, which means that Apple can accumulate huge pools of capital, "lever them up" by borrowing even more, and then put all that money to work on R&D, product development, marketing, and, of course, "incentives" for key employees and managers.

But limited liability also does a lot of work in the political sphere. Once an individual crosses a certain wealth threshold, they become an LLC. Accountants and wealth managers and financial planners insist on this. For freelancers and other sole practitioners, the benefits of forming an LLC are modest – a few more tax write-offs and the ability to get a business credit-card with slightly superior perks.

But for the truly wealthy, transforming yourself into the "natural person" at the center of a vast pool of LLCs is essential because it allows you to accumulate and shed debts. You can secretly own rental properties and abuse your tenants, accumulate vast liabilities as local authorities pile fine upon fine, and then simply dispose of the LLC and its debts. Plan this gambit carefully enough and the debtor LLC will have no assets in its bankruptcy estate apart from the crumbling apartment building, and its most senior secured creditor will be another of your LLCs. This lets the slumlord move an apartment block from one pocket to another, leaving the debt behind.

For the corporate person, shedding debts through bankruptcy is an honorable practice. Far from being a source of shame, the well-timed, well-structured bankruptcy is just evidence of financial acumen. Think of the private equity looters who buy a company by borrowing against it, pay themselves a huge "special dividend," then wipe away the debt by taking the company bankrupt (which also lets them shed obligations to suppliers, workers, and especially, retirees and their pensions). As Trump (a serial bankrupt who has stiffed legions of contractors and creditors) would say, "That makes me smart."

The apotheosis of elite bankruptcy is found in massive corporate bankruptcies, in which a corporation kills and maims huge numbers of people, then maneuvers to get its case heard in one of three US federal courtrooms where specialist judges rubber-stamp "involuntary third-party releases" that wipe out the company's obligations to it victims for pennies on the dollar, while the company gets to keep billions:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/29/impunity-corrodes/#morally-bankrupt

This process was so flagrantly abused by companies like Johnson & Johnson (which spent years knowingly advising women to dust their vulvas with asbestos-tainted talc, creating an epidemic of grotesque and lethal genital cancers) that it is finally generating some scrutiny and pushback:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/01/j-and-j-jk/#risible-gambit

But the precarious state of elite bankruptcies has more to do with the personal corruption of the small cabal of judges who run the system than public outrage over their rulings; like that one judge in Texas who was secretly fucking the lawyer whose clients he was also handing hundreds of millions of dollars to:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/16/texas-two-step/#david-jones

Certainly, we don't hear much about the "moral hazard" of allowing the Sackler opioid family to keep as much as ten billion dollars in the family's offshore accounts while walking away from the victims of their drug-pushing empire, no matter what bizarre tricks they deploy in pulling off the stunt:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/11/justice-delayed/#justice-redeemed

But when it comes to canceling the debts of normal people, the "moral hazard" is front and center. If you're a person who borrowed $79k in student loans, paid back $190k and still owe $236k, we can't cancel your debt, because of the message that would send to other people who want to (checks notes) get an education:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/04/kawaski-trawick/#strike-debt

The anti-jubilee side also wants us to think of the poor creditors: who would loan money to the next generation of students if student debt cancellation was a possibility? Of course, these are federally guaranteed loans, risk-free, free money for people who already have money, a kind of UBI for the people who need it least. The idea that this credit pool would dry up if you were limited to only collecting the debts that can be paid – rather than insisting that debts that can't be paid still be paid – elevates the hereditary creditor class to a kind of fragile, easily frightened, endangered species.

But the most powerful arguments against bankruptcy are rooted in the idea of providence. In an efficient market, anyone who goes bankrupt was necessarily reckless. They were entrusted with credit they weren't entitled to, because they lacked the intrinsic merit that would let them manage that credit wisely. Letting them walk away from their debts means that they will never learn from their mistakes, and that their fellow born-to-be-poors will learn the wrong thing from those debts: that there's an easy life in borrowing, spending, and discharging your debts in bankruptcy.

As it happens, this is an empirically testable proposition. If this view of personal bankruptcy as a personal failure is correct, then people who go bankrupt and live to borrow again should end up bankrupt again, too. On the other hand, if we accept the jubilee view – that debt is the result of accumulated misfortunes, often including the misfortune of birth into poor station – then bankruptcy represents a second chance with an opportunity to dodge misfortune.

In a new study from IZA Institute of Labor Economics's Gustaf Bruze, Alexander Kjær Hilsløv and Jonas Maibom, we get just such an empirical analysis. It's called "The Long-Run Effects of Individual Debt Relief," and it examines the lives of people for a full quarter-century after a bankruptcy:

https://docs.iza.org/dp17047.pdf

The study follows Danish bankruptcies following the introduction of continental Europe's first modern bankruptcy system, which Denmark instituted in 1984. Prior to that, the Danes – like most of Europe – did not allow for a discharge of personal debt through bankruptcy. Instead, a debtor who went bankrupt would be expected to have about 20% of their lifetime wages garnished to pay back their creditors, until the debts were repaid or they died (whichever came first).

After 1984, Denmark bankruptcy system imported features of US/UK/Commonwealth bankruptcy, including the ability to restructure and discharge your debts. Not everyone is eligible for this kind of bankruptcy: there's a bureaucratic system that verifies that people seeking bankruptcy discharge don't have a lot of assets that could go to their creditors.

But for the (un)lucky people who qualify for bankruptcy discharges, there's a fascinating natural experiment in which the fortunes of people who see debt relief can be compared to bankrupt people who couldn't get their debts wiped out.

It turns out that the Bronze Age has a thing or two to teach us. Here's the headline finding: people who discharge their debts in bankruptcy experience "a large increase in earned income, employment, assets, real estate, secured debt, home ownership, and wealth that persists for more than 25 years after a court ruling."

After people are given the benefits of bankruptcy, they are less likely to rely on public benefits. They get better jobs. Their families live better lives. Their creditors get some of their money back (which is all they can realistically expect, since "debts that can't be paid, won't be paid").

As Jason Kilborn writes for Credit Slips, "the benefits of debt relief are not only substantial but robust, as debtors learn their lesson (if there was one to learn) about managing their finances, and they capitalize (literally) on their fresh start."

Score one for the luck-based theory of wealth, and minus one for the providential meritocracy hypothesis.

Americans should take note of these findings. After all, Danes are insulated from the leading American cause of bankruptcy: medical debts. In America, breaking a bone or getting cancer or even kidney stone can wipe out a lifetime of hard work, careful planning and prudential spending. The US refuses to seriously grapple with this problem. The best we can come up with is the (welcome, but tiny) step of banning credit bureaux from trashing your credit score because of your medical debt:

https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/statements-releases/2024/06/11/fact-sheet-vice-president-harris-announces-proposal-to-prohibit-medical-bills-from-being-included-on-credit-reports-and-calls-on-states-and-localities-to-take-further-actions-to-reduce-medical-debt/

Millennia ago, everyone understood that debts that can't be paid, won't be paid, and they created a system for discharging debts and freeing productive people from the tyranny of accumulated liabilities, to the benefit of all. Dismantling that system required us to invent an elaborate theological system and dress it up in economic language.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/17/lovilee-jubilee/#debts-that-cant-be-paid-wont-be-paid