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gemma-devereux · 1 year ago

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-> Gemma ⋆ jones ⋆ DEVEREUX

Nickname/s: Jonesie

Face claim: Candice King

Career Claim: Carrie Underwood (loosely)

Gender: cis female

Date of Birth: December 27, 1991

Age: Thirty One

Hometown: West End, Nashville, TN

Current Location: Downtown

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Accent: Slight Southern accent

Astrological Signs: Capricorn sun, Cancer moon, Gemini rising

Personality Type: ESFJ

Enneagram Type: 3w2

Height: 5″8

Allergies: Peanuts and all tree nuts

Tattoos: None

TW: child neglect, alcoholism, drug use

✨ AN: Helloooo, this is Gemma, my argumentative, antithetical dream girl. warning: this post is *LONG*, but, top to bottom, has literally everything you could want to know about Gems (aka Jonesie). However, for your convenience, below is a TLDR and quick links if you want to jump to one specific page! My discord is jess_linkedpinkies and I'm always open for plots or chats!

✨ Quick Links:

full biography

about Gemma

relationships

wanted connections

instagram

☆ TLDR ☆

Gemma Jones Devereux is the second oldest in her family, growing up as her mother's favorite due to her strong resemblance to her mother. As a child, she tried to play the role of peacemaker during family drama and fights, protecting and herding her younger siblings off to their rooms while going to comfort her older sister, who often clashed with their mother. At 17, Gemma became the first child in the family to be signed to the label and quickly erupted into stardom. While she loves what she does, Gemma's true passion is in songwriting, but her mother and the label would never let her write for other artists. However, it's a very well-kept secret among some people that Gemma does write for other artists all the time using a male ghost name, Drew King. All of the Devereux's are competing for ownership of Deverocks, but Gemma has been considering leaving the label and switching to a more mainstream label in order to capitalize on her success and see how big she can really be. Her end goal is to accumulate enough wealth and fame to possibly buy Deverocks from her parents, or at least accumulate enough wealth to put an end to the family drama and ensure all of her siblings are set for life. Currently, Gemma is on a break from her tour and is back in Nashville, TN.

☆ Full Biography ☆

EARLY LIFE (age 0-7):

Ahead of the birth of his second child, Gemma’s father was convinced they were having a boy - absolutely desperate for a son, who he was planning to name George Jones Devereux in homage to one of his favorite stars.

On December 27th, 1991, Gemma Jones Devereux was born at Ascension Saint Thomas Hospital West, the second Devereux daughter, three years younger than her sister Maggie. Mr. Devereux never got his son George, but he, and her entire family, always fondly called Gemma Jonesie anyway.

Born into the Devereux empire and looking every bit as blonde and blue-eyed as her mother, Gemma can remember her earliest memories of the sparkling lights of Broadway in and the bright lights of the spotlights that shone down on her when her father would bring her out onstage and hoist her onto his hip at the end of a show.

Back then, everyone cooed and fawned over the Devereux children at their parents shows and signings, and Gemma was happily toted along like a little show pony, as if one of her mother's greatest accomplishments was producing adorable little children (it wasn't a surprise then, that three more siblings followed).

Gemma’s early life was playing backstage at her parents shows and loving all the attention she got from her parents’ fans.

CHILDHOOD + EARLY TEENS (age 7-17):

She couldn't distinctly remember when she really caught onto her parents substance abuse, or the first time she distinctly thought "my parents shouldn’t say that to us," but by the time she was in the second grade, she was keenly aware of the way her mother's moods swung like a pendulum, the way she could get angry over anything, and the way her anger wasn't taken out on anyone rationally, just whichever one of the children was closest.

She could plainly see that Maggie, her oldest sister, took way more of her mother's aggression than any of their siblings, and when she thought about it, she realized that it was quite possible that Gemma herself was on the receiving end of the least amount of her mother's anger and manipulation, although even she got her fair share.

There were always comments (mostly from her mother) about which little Devereux would grow up to be the very best, who would be the best singer? who would grow up to take over Deverocks? It was dangled in their faces like candy, and, to Gemma, she took that to understand that she had to be the very best... at everything.

Whether it was because she'd grown up in Maggie's shadow or because she was simply driven, Gemma tried hard at everything.

She got stellar grades in school, was a varsity swimmer all of high school, and, most importantly, she could sing and write music.

She’d been singing and performing since she remembered, guided by her mother and obediently following along to all the lessons she was sent to.

ADULTHOOD + THE SPOTLIGHT (age 17-now):

She didn’t expect to be signed to Deverocks at 17 years old, before even her sister had - but that was their mother, constantly trying to pit her children against each other, particularly her two oldest girls.

Gemma signed the dotted line, realizing her life was going to change forever, and even knowing that, she couldn’t have been prepared for what her life became.

Gone were her dreams of going to an Ivy League or getting a swim scholarship in college - she didn’t even go to college. Instead, Deverocks capitalized on her as America’s Sweetheart, a young, sweet country girl with Country Music Hall of Fame in her blood.

It wasn’t that Gemma didn’t like the success- she did, but was it what she wanted? She couldn’t say. She liked singing, she loved touring, and she knew she was doing well at Deverocks, but the underlying turmoil of her family was something she could never escape.

Being exposed to celebrity so young, Gemma had a brief partying phase, experimenting with drugs that got passed around at parties, that her boyfriends always seemed to have access too, but she hated the way they made her feel, and, above all, she feared becoming her parents. She cut the drugs out, but not the drinking.

Above all, while Gemma was pumping out album after album- she was observing the business, making connections, and trying to figure out how, if she could, make sure her siblings and herself could escape the toxicity in their family and skirt out from under the pressure of one day possibly owning Deverocks Records.

She knows she’s doing better and better with every album, but at the same time, part of her knows she could do more, could do better. She wants more control over her career, more than she has a Deverocks.

She wants to write more, she wants to do other things, branch out into pop and see how successful she can really be. But that would mean leaving Deverocks Records for a competitor, which is a move that she knows would change her life forever once again.

☆ Relationships ☆

Older sister: @maggiedereux - Maggie and Gemma are two and a half years apart, and Gemma has idolized her older sister since her earliest memory. As the two oldest Devereux children, and both girls, their relationship was a rollercoaster of competition and codependence, made worse by their mother, who pit them against each other at all opportunities. Gemma, more mild-mannered and younger, got the least of their mother's wrath while Maggie got the worst, and they spent a large part of their youth flipping back and forth in which one was acting as the "older sister." Gemma stepped into that role whenever Maggie and their mother were having a particularly bad fight, shepherding their younger siblings into their rooms and then fishing a bobby pin out of her jewelry box to pick the lock on Maggie's door, crawling into bed with her older sister and wiping her tears. Maggie did the same for her too many times to count, always trying to protect all of them from their mother. Gemma was signed before Maggie, even though, to Gemma, Maggie's always been more talented. Gemma harshly disapproves of Maggie's drug use and drinking, and constantly tries to pry and see if her sister really is okay, because truly, she never really believes her.

Younger brother: @callumdevereux - Growing up in the Devereux family, Gemma and Callum were polar opposites. While Callum was shy and quiet, Gemma was the opposite, unbothered by the twinkling spotlights in her eyes when her parents carried her onstage at the end of their shows. As the designated protector and peacemaker, Gemma kept an eye out for her younger siblings, always trying to shepherd them off to their rooms when the fighting escalated, trying to distract them with toys and games so it wasn't as upsetting. Gemma maintains a close relationship with all of her siblings, even Callum, and fully supported him selling his shares of the company and cutting ties with the label.

Love affair: @rowan-dashner - Gemma and Rowan are currently sleeping together/seeing each other in secret. Rowan is married, and Gemma never intended to be someone's mistress, but one of the talents he manages was an opener for Gemma on tour and they ended up spending a lot of time together until they hooked up one night, starting a tour romance. Rowan would sneak into Gemma's trailer or hotel room every night. They truly have fallen in love with each other and although she knows it's wrong, she craves the stability and peace Rowan brings her. Rowan has become the inspiration for several of her songs, including her single I Can See You, which heavily references secret hookups and romances.

Situationship: @tylermason - Tyler Mason, another person Gemma should not be hooking up with. Tyler is her musical rival and, in the public eye, they're enemies, their singles and albums constantly vying for number one. However, behind the scenes, whenever they're both in Nashville and not touring, they're usually staying at each other's places and hooking up. Their relationship is incredibly secretive because their labels would be furious if they knew, and Gemma's incredibly conflicted between Rowand and Tyler, two hookups that developed into something much more, and two men that she has feelings for but she has to keep secret.

Publicist: @emiliamcdden - Emilia is Gemma's publicist, someone responsible for maintaining her image as America's sweetheart and cleaning up any media messes. Beyond that, Emilia has grown to become someone Gemma trusts beyond a professional relationship, especially since their is so much drama and betrayal in the industry. Gemma's incredibly grateful to Emilia and considers her a friend.

Best friend: @colton-reynolds - Colton and Gemma are an unlikely close pair, having bonded over their shared hard times and witnessed each other at their worst. Now that they've both stopped using (at least, for the most part, on Gemma's part), she'd drawn to Colton because she doesn't have to try around him and she knows he doesn't judge her or view her as Gemma the celebrity, rather, Gemma- the person.

Friend and mentee: @chloecampbell - On paper, Gemma and Chloe are rivals. Blonde, successful, with similar aesthetics, both marketed as all-American sweethearts. Gemma was told Chloe was her competition, but when Chloe collapsed onstage in LA, Gemma saw too much of herself in the younger girl and showed up at her house in Nashville shortly after she canceled her tour. Instead of acting like her enemy, Gemma took on the role of mentor and friend, keeping an eye on Chloe and helping her, even co-writing together and pushing Chloe to try her hand at writing.

☆ Facts ☆

Her drink of choice is bourbon (a nod to TVD, iykyk). She drinks it straight and will drink it after a long day or when she needs something to take the edge off, but when she's out, she'll order a whiskey coke, a Paloma, aperol spritz, or skinny margarita. She drank way too much vodka as a college student, and isn't a picky drinker, although she tries to avoid anything overly sweet.

Gemma is severely allergic to peanuts and all tree nuts. She carries an epipen and Benadryl with her almost always, and goes to an allergist every six months (so far she's failed every test and hasn't outgrown any allergies).

She is a big reader, when time allows. She loves the world of books and is prone to crying at the end of books because she's sad there over. A bad habit Gemma has is beginning a book and then staying up all night to finish it, and she has a notebook full of all her favorite quotes from books that she's handwritten over the years.

Gemma keeps diaries. She knows it's stupid and old fashioned and she'd probably be totally fucked if anyone found them, but something about keeping diaries and writing down all of her thoughts is incredibly therapeutic to her. This hobby goes hand in hand with her love of reading, and, in a way, Gemma likes the thought that she's writing the story of her life, as it happens. Of course, her emotions and thoughts change all the time, but if she didn't have an outlet to get her feelings out, she'd probably never sleep, or be even closer to perpetually losing her shit than she is on a daily basis.

She is absolutely addicted to coffee and prefers iced coffee to hot coffee. Gemma's convinced it doesn't actually affect her anymore and she's still so tired all the time but still drinks it out of habit and loves the ritual of making coffee every morning.

She is a terrible sleeper. She's a constant worried who is absolutely awful at turning her brain off at night to rest because she's constantly thinking about work, her family, her relationships, and her life-at-large. She sleeps much better when she's sleeping next to someone, and also sleeps better when the sun is out and she can take naps.

When it comes to values, Gemma is very traditional, honest, and true, despite the emotional turmoil that was her childhood and upbringing. She values her relationships with her family, friends, and partners above all else and when she does something, she'll stick to her word. She's never cheated on a partner and rarely ever lies or sneaks around the truth. She's a terrible liar to begin with, but also hates the feeling it gives her and she automatically feels bad about it. However, when it comes to protecting her family, she'd lie or do whatever she needs to do for her parents and siblings, even though her relationships with each of them are incredibly complicated and nuanced.

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miercolaes · 3 months ago

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️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️WEDNESDAY ADDAMS ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️( repost, don’t reblog ! )

BASICS

full name. wednesday morrigan addams

nickname. wends / weds / little (noun)

gender. entity cisfemale

height. 4ft 11 / 151cm

age. 18 - 30+ , in most threads in early 20s

zodiac. scorpio sun , virgo moon , aquarius rising

spoken languages. english , spanish , french , italian , german , modern standard arabic , latin , sanskrit , korean.

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

hair color. ebony black

eye color. obsidian

skin tone. deep cool olive tone

body type. athletic

voice. deadpan , monotonous , slightly raspy

dominant hand. right

posture. composed , standing straight with her shoulders rolled back , chin usually aimed inwards towards her chest , gaze forward and usually upward which mimics the infamous kubrick stare , although she always looks stiff , resembling a corpse

scars. many throughout the years , all have healed leaving no apparent mark , although you're encouraged to make one that lasts

tattoos. lilith's sigil at the back of her head / base of bottom hairline , eye of ra at the crook of her right elbow

birthmarks. none

most noticeable features. tiny frame adorned with sharp jawline that could cut , eyes wide enough to stare into your soul , hair so dark in contrast to her natural pallor

CHILDHOOD

place of birth. westfield , new jersey

hometown. thread dependent , the addamses are all over the place (including hiding in your basement or walls)

siblings. pugsley , pubert , but most importantly thread dependent given the fact the addamses would adopt about anyone

parents. morticia gomez (nee frump) , gomez addams

ADULT LIFE

occupation. private detective , forensic pathologist , secretary at some random corporation

current residence. verse dependent

close friends. eddie , janessa , nancy (on the top of my head, but thread dependent)

relationship status. verse dependent , and keep in mind this blog is multi everything

financial status. wealthy (family inheritance & investments)

driver's license. acquired here , but she wouldn't drive unless it's vital , she'd rather have someone else drive

criminal record. everything's checked , a weird bucket list if you ask me , but she did it before her 18th bday

vices. smoking cigars , getting into trouble , violent tendencies , obsessiveness

SEX & ROMANCE

sexual orientation. pansexual , but most importantly demisexual

preferred emotional role. submissive | dominant | switch

preferred sexual role. submissive | dominant | switch

libido. none for most of the time , but can go high with the right partner in a pretty much morbid environment

love language. a blend of acts of service (supporting her interests & demonstrating reliability) , physical touch (subtle gestures & respecting boundaries) , shared experiences (memorable experiences) , quality time (listening to her thoughts , engaging in discussions , non-verbal communication , standing by her side) , making restitution (action over words). to truly connect with her , one must appreciate her dark , introspective nature and be willing to engage with her on a deep , meaningful level. respecting her individuality , supporting her unique interests and creating memorable experiences are key to understanding and expressing love in a way that resonates with her.

relationship tendencies. faithful to the point of obsession , jealousy rooted in her soul , would die & kill for you

MISCELLANEOUS

character's theme song. bury a friend , billie eilish

hobbies to pass time. taxidermy , playing the cello , writing , breaking and entering ?????

left or right brained. left trained , right born

fears. heliophobia (sunlight phobia) , necrophobia (death phobia) , agateophobia (insanity phobia) , anthropophobia (society / people phobia) , fear of losing her loved ones , fear of rejection , haphephobia (touch phobia) , agoraphobia

self confidence level. high & through the roof

vulnerabilities. anything that requires emotional intelligence , not understanding her own emotions , trying to rationalize emotions , did i say emotions ???

#♱ character study.#i forgot who tagged me in this but i loved writing it ; i adjusted wends' story #i also had this for like 2-3 weeks

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totallyboatless · 1 year ago

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my new game is "take an edible before dinner and then start writing a tumblr post and see when it hits" so let's go

It's been decided that in this metaphor, your sun sign is "who you are when you're just chilling with people you like"

Here's what I think about moon signs when applied to "in the sheets" literally. Tell me in the tags or message me (anon is activated) if I'm right or very off base lol. And if I'm very wrong I wanna know your rising and sun signs

Disclaimer, this is for fun and jokes and if you're not into sex that's okay! This one might not be for you

(Here's a link if you don't know your moon sign)

Capricorn: Either a dom top or a bratty bottom. Either way, likes to make people work for it. Probably would be legit a really good dominatrix actually lol

Aquarius: So switchy that they're not truly happy except with other switches; talks a lot during sex, mainly making jokes. Sorry, babe, "deflecting with humor" stays ON during sex.

Pisces: Oh, darling. You're such a bottom that the idea of someone calling you darling makes you swoon a little. You prefer emotional connection and a nice date beforehand. Your actual dream date might be "walking barefoot on a beach holding hands"

Aries: For sure is into kink. Like, light bondage is the lowest bar for a moon Aries. Likes rough sex and dirty talk, but also likes long, slow make-out sessions.

Taurus: Doesn't want anything too complicated, not kink averse but doesn't like to be uncomfortable physically. But like at the same time I could see being into shibari? Like from the "likes rituals" angle. Prefers a long lead-up with a nice massage.

Gemini: You'd expect me to say switch here which could very well be correct lol (update the weed friend hit hard and fast, I have no idea how it will affect these thoughts going forward lol) Anyway, I think Geminis actually might often be service tops? Or maybe more like "I get off on what you get off on and that's so awesome" types? Sex echo-chamber, you know what I mean?

Cancer: So how often have you cried during or after sex? (Jk but also very not jk). If someone says the words "I want to make love to you" your pants are already off. You prefer soft, sweet words over dirty talk

Leo: Often tops, secretly wants to bottom more. Is adventurous (partially for the stories they get to tell later). Depending on the sun and rising combo with this, they may not be braggy--but absolutely if you're close friends with a Leo Moon you get to hear the juiciest shit

Virgo: A people pleaser, sometimes too much. Goes into Service Dom mode even when they want to be bottoming. Immediately cleans up after and makes sure everyone involved hydrates

Libra: Candles, lingerie (high update: had to look up how to spell this and then spent a little while saying LINGE-ER-EEEEE out loud). Anyway, loves feeling seductive/seduced. One of the only signs that can truly pull off a strip-tease on the fly (if you're a Leo moon you're probably mad reading that second sentence bc you think I should have put that in yours)

Scorpio: Dom Bottom in a kind of pillow princess way? Likes and is good at sexting. Doesn't want anyone to stay over unless they're like really into them. Is probably upset that I said Capricorns would be the best dominatrixes....dominatrixi.....dominatrices? (WAIT is it that one for real? that's the only one without a squiggle -I was doing that as a joke because of the plural of matrix...reading that back is making me realize i'm experiencing himbo high).

Sagittarius: Will try anything once, and even if it turns out not to be for them, doesn't have regrets about it--at least now they know, right? You know in The Sims when a Sim get really happy and walk really jaunty after Woohooing? Sagittarius.

This is all, I need to find a sandwich now

explaining rising and moon meanings in astrology from now on by saying "rising is who you are in the streets, moon is who you are in the sheets"

#astrology #pip's edible essays #is what i just named this game

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manakin-guywalker · 2 years ago

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the obikin top/bottom situation is so Layered to me. like i think Anakin is a top because he’s protective and he wants to feel in control but i think Obi-Wan is a bottom not because he wants to be taken care of but because it’s how he takes care of Anakin, how he gives him what he needs. which makes him like. the emotional top.

#obikin #like i’ll still read fics with the roles reversed bc that also makes sense to me #obi-wan: bottom sun/top moon/switch rising #anakin: top sun/bottom moon/bottom rising

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temmtamm · 3 years ago

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any yandere nsfw hc’s :) ? for both sun and moon?

Too many,,,way too many

NSFW yandere Sun and Moon HC's

Sun

Oh boy- he may seem vanilla at first, as he usually only gets intimate after emotional moments, but that doesn't mean he isn't pent up.

Easily gets jealous, and like to leave small, barely noticeable marks on your body so he feels assured that your still his.

Can't go slow for the life of him. Call him sonic, cause whatever he's going to do, he's doing it fast.

Loooves giving! He likes taking too, but giving reminds him a lot that your his and that he can control certain aspects of you, which oddly comforts him.

He may not be intimate with you a lot, but he fantasies about it all day. Whenever he gets bored or his mind goes blank, it draws back to those memories and fantasies and suddenly isn't so bored.

Sun can go for hours, and absolutely will until you have to tell him to get off. He will leave you drained, and then love and cuddle on you.

His favorite part?? Aftercare. He finds your expressions of barely grasping onto consciousness adorable and will drown you in love as he praises you.

He's like a jackrabbit whenever it happens, and isn't afraid to experiment, though he needs to be assured your alright with it too. After all, he wants HIS sweetheart to feel amazing too.

Extremely flexible, so sometimes he has the weirdest positions and will burst out laughing at them.

Whenever he gets overstimulated, he let's out a glitched out, almost hysterical laugh.

God of overstimulation.

Moon

Just like sun, his sex drive isn't high, but when he gets in the mood, he's unbreakable.

He doesn't mind experimenting and even doing things in somewhat public areas, though he prefers to have you alone and all to himself in a closed off room.

Unlike Sun, he doesn't immediately over stimulated you. Instead, he'll give gently soft touches, few and far in between until you have to beg for him to continue, just so that way he can hear that you want it.

Loves to give as well, as in your first few sections, he's only ever played with you and pleased you instead of immediately going for the thing that would please you both.

I think it's practically confirmed that he does dirty talk and bondage.

Will go multiple times, just like sun. But he will wait a couple minutes in between to give you room to breath instead of it being a constant, unstopping thing, though he can do that too if you ask nice enough.

YOU CAN'T TELL ME THIS MOTHERFUCKER DOESN'T P U R R IN BED.

He doesn't like to moan a lot as he only wants to hear your voice, though he will sometimes let some low groans slip out so you know your pleasing him.

Unpopular opinion, but he bottoms harder than Sun. Sun was designed for giving, so he's more of a service top, meanwhile Moon is a switch.

Favorite part?? Climax. He adores hearing your moans highten in sound and your body shiver ever so slightly.

He's not the best at aftercare, but he'll stay next to you and even offer to get you candy as that's the only food he's allowed to carry.

Somnaphile?? He definitely gets a rise out of seeing you sleeping and vulnerable, but he gets more excited at the fact that only he gets to witness this than at the fact your vulnerable.

#fnaf books #fnaf fandom #fnaf moondrop #fnaf sunrise #fnaf william afton #fnaf security breach #fnaf sister location #fnaf #fnaf smut #security breach smut #x reader #temmer

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seijorhi · 3 years ago

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nostos.

well it’s not exactly monster fucking but um... here there be monsters.

Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader

TW implied non-con, nsfw-ish, blood, gore, minor character death, animal death, um somebody gets munched...

Every good writer needs peace and quiet. Fresh air and a change of scenery.

You’re not running away, it’s more of a… tactical retreat. Two weeks disconnected from well meaning friends, pushy family members and your eternally irritating editor, with nothing but the beautiful, sprawling forests to keep you company.

The mountains are familiar, if isolating, you think, leaning against the porch railing with a warm mug in hand as the breeze picks up and the tall maple and birch trees rustle in response. The leaves are turning vibrant reds and gold with the falling temperatures and even in the eerie quiet of the cold morning, you can’t deny that it’s breathtaking.

It reminds you of your childhood, the countless vacations you’d spent here with your family, always in autumn, always in time to watch the leaves change before the first snows of winter set in. Fond memories of running through the trees chasing after cute little bunnies, giggling even when you tripped up and scraped your knees. There was something mystical about the forest back then, something special. But it’s been years since you’ve been here last, and the first time you’ve ever come alone.

And yet it feels different somehow, colder despite the nostalgia. You’re no longer a child, looking at the world through innocent, wondrous eyes. The forest is just a forest.

Of course, you weren’t an idiot; disappearing off the grid was one thing. Disappearing off the grid without anybody knowing where you were going was another entirely. They’d been surprisingly supportive of the plan – until you told them where it was you were planning on running off to.

‘Why go back to the mountain, honey?’ your mother had asked, her smile wavering and an odd tightness in her eyes. ‘Why not go to the coast instead? Or spend some time in the city?’

But this isn’t a fun little vacation. You don’t want to be distracted by beaches and crowds, you need space to finish your book and time to work through your mess of an emotional state without any interruptions. You want to be untraceable, at least for a week or two.

God knows the last thing you need right now is your ex tracking you down to try and apologise again.

Part of you had thought – somewhat naively, perhaps – that by coming back you’d spark… something. Your memories of the mountains are full of warmth and happiness, but as you stare out into the wilderness, all you feel is a cool chill that runs down your spine and the goosebumps that prickle at your skin.

Setting your now empty mug down, you pull tighter at the thick knit cardigan draped over your shoulders. Enough reminiscing, your manuscript awaits.

—

The mountain’s too quiet. You don’t notice it so much during the day, the sound of music softly pouring from your laptop and the gentle clacking of keys as you type enough to distract you from the eerie stillness outside the cabin. Even at night, you’re preoccupied with dinner, and then curled up on the couch with a warm throw rug watching reruns of your favourite shows on Netflix.

It’s only when you lie down, burrowed into the blankets to try and sleep that you notice just how silent the forest at your doorstep truly is. At first you think it’s simply being away from the hustle and bustle of home. There’s no cars driving past, or the sound of neighbours floating through your open windows, there’s not even the distant hooting of owls or dogs barking.

But it’s more than just quiet. There’s nothing. Even the trees seem to still once the sun falls beneath the horizon. And it shouldn't bother you, shouldn’t unsettle you, and yet…

The first few nights, you don’t sleep well. Tossing and turning in bed. When you do sleep, your dreams are plagued with unpleasant things. Not nightmares as such, but an uneasiness that bleeds into otherwise pleasant thoughts. On the fourth night you wake, gasping for air. Whatever dream you’d been in the grips of fades like smoke, and as you draw in another shuddering breath your throat itches and burns.

Water. You need water.

You don’t switch on the lights as you fumble your way down to the kitchen, trying to preserve what little remnants of sleep are still in your system. Even with the moon almost full and the night sky clear, the canopy shrouds it.

And it’s in that darkness, as your eyes flicker up from the faucet, that you see it for the first time.

A shape, huge and looming, silk shadow against black.

For a moment, as your heart hammers against your ribs, a chill creeping down your spine, you don’t dare trust your eyes. Maybe you’re asleep still, dreaming, or your mind’s playing tricks on you, because there’s nothing that should be lurking in the woods outside of your window that size.

Two golden, cat-like eyes peer back at you.

They’re still there when you race to flick on the lights, unblinking, curious as you skitter backwards, hand over your racing heart.

You’re tired, emotionally drained and this–

This is nothing more than a figment of an overactive imagination, a child creating monsters from the shadows in their bedroom. Yet even as you run back to the safety of the bedroom, yank the curtains shut and huddle under the meagre warmth your blankets afford you, squeezing your eyes shut, you feel it out there still, watching.

And in the stillness of the mountains outside, you swear you hear footsteps.

—

You wake to fresh snow, too early in the year, even at these altitudes. It dusts the ground, covering the mossy paths in glittering white, clings to the branches of the trees – the red leaves looking like droplets of blood scattered across a grey sky. The snow will undoubtedly melt as the sun rises, turn to slush and mix with the dirt, but for now it’s a thing of beauty.

For a moment, you allow yourself to forget how tired you are, how unsettled, venturing out from the cabin with wide, excitable eyes. It never used to snow when you were here as a kid, and while you get the occasional snowfall back home, it’s nothing like–

You stop dead in your tracks.

There’s two human footprints imprinted on the snow – only two – right outside your bedroom window, crisp and clean, as if they’d been left just moments before.

—

Your mother sounds worried when you call her. Of course, you don’t tell her about the lone footprints at your window, or the creepy pair of eyes you’d seen through the dark, you know how that sounds. You’re not crazy, and even if some part of you truly believed what you’d seen, your mom is the last person you’d admit it to.

Once upon a time, when you were little, she’d indulged in stories of fairies and spirits, but that was a long time ago. Now she turns up her nose and sneers at the myths and legends that your grandma still spouts, dismissing them with a scoff.

It’s not the kind of thing well-adjusted adults talk about in polite conversation.

She’s a good woman, but you can’t tell her this.

And you’re not even sure you’re entirely sold on it either. The eyes could have been from a wild animal – big cats might be rare in Japan, but they do exist here. You were half asleep (half terrified) when you had seen them, you don’t want to make a fuss over nothing. The footprints are less easy to explain away. If there’d been tracks leading away, you could convince yourself that it was a lost hiker and nothing more.

But there weren’t any tracks leading away; just the two footprints. And what kind of hiker doesn’t wear shoes in weather like this? It’s possible that this is some kind of prank, a mean spirited trick designed to unsettle you – a job well done, by the way – but you can’t quite bring yourself to believe that either.

In any case, you’re hardly going to admit over the phone that you’re freaking out over some footprints in the snow. God knows she’s already worried enough about your mental state, has been ever since the breakup, and you’re not going to give her any more ammunition.

But perhaps there is something to that maternal instinct, because despite your best efforts to reassure her that you’re doing just fine, that your novel’s going great and you’re so glad you came out here, she still sounds entirely unconvinced.

“Honey, you know you can tell me if something’s wrong,” she tells you, her voice strangely hesitant. “You don’t sound yourself, are you sure everything’s okay?”

You don’t know why you called her at all. You always have been a shitty liar, and she’s always been able to see right through you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Honestly the fresh air’s doing me good,” you tell her. “It’s weirdly quiet here though, I’m not used to it,” you laugh, and even to your ears it sounds hollow and fake.

There’s a heavy pause on the other end of the line, and if you close your eyes you can almost picture it, your mom leaning against the kitchen counter, teeth worrying into her bottom lip–

“I just don’t like you out there all by yourself.”

Relax, what’s the worst that could happen?

The words almost, almost slip out, an instinctive reaction to a mother’s well meaning but overbearing concern. But it feels like tempting fate, and whether or not you’re fully convinced that there is something strange happening, you’re not that bold. Instead you begin to tell her (again) that everything’s fine when she suddenly speaks again.

“Bad things happen in those mountains. Just… just promise me you’ll be safe.”

Abruptly, the line goes dead.

Pulling the phone from your ear, you glance down at the illuminated screen, only to frown when you see the little ‘SOS Only’ flashing in the top corner. Huh, you’d had a few bars when you’d started the call, but…

The weather’s gotta be messing with your signal. Stranger things have happened, right?

Shaking your head you resolve to give her a call tomorrow. And yet, even as you try to put her parting words from your mind and throw yourself back into your writing, you can’t help but feel that familiar sense of cloying unease seeping through your skin once more.

What the hell had she meant, ‘bad things happen in those mountains’?

—

A good night’s sleep can do you wonders.

Well, theoretically speaking. You can’t remember the last actual decent sleep you’d had, but regardless, the point stands. All you need is an uninterrupted eight or nine hours, and this… paranoia will go away. Things’ll be clearer in the morning, so long as you sleep.

The mantra doesn’t help you any, of course.

You don’t need to peer through the window to feel those watchful eyes staring. And maybe it would be easier to ignore the prickling sensation at the nape of your neck if it weren’t for the noises.

Music isn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of the mournful wails, like a wounded animal crying out in pain. It’s incessant, inescapable, reverberating inside of your eardrums until it’s all you can focus on.

It’s instinctual, you think, the urge to creep from your bed and try to find the creature making that sound and help it. But even as your feet touch the cool floorboards, your gut clenches, hackles rising. Something deep inside of you warns you from leaving the safety of the cabin.

Whatever creature is making those noises, it’s not calling for help.

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but you must have because at a certain point in the morning you blink your eyes awake, exhaustion clinging to you like a second skin.

And this time it’s not snow that greets you, but the mangled remains of a doe ripped apart on your porch. Deep, jagged gouge marks run along its flank, organs spilling from the cuts and there’s little left of its neck, the whole thing torn out with teeth. Yet for the gruesome injuries, the only blood you find is congealed, pooled beneath the poor creature.

Whatever happened to it, it didn’t happen here. The knowledge doesn’t soothe you like it should – the park ranger you spoke to on the phone mentioned that while it’s rare, sometimes bears venture a little too close to buildings, though he sounds doubtful even as he says it.

He sounds even less interested when you tell him this doesn’t look like a bear attack, but promises they’ll send someone down in the next few days to check everything out. In the meantime, he suggests, it’s best to stay indoors.

Yeah, not gonna be an issue.

And so with no feasible way of moving it, you’re left with the butchered corpse of a doe just outside your front door. And the thing that bothers you isn’t so much the body, though you still can’t look at it without wanting to throw up, but the fact that it was just… left there.

Not eaten. No, aside from the missing throat, the deer’s all there. Ripped apart with its guts spilling out, but otherwise untouched. Growing up you had a cat, the sweetest little thing, but every once in a while she would get out of a night, find some poor little creature to torment and without fail, she’d bring it back home, leaving it half dead on the doorstep like a gift.

‘See what a good hunter I am?’ she seemed to say, smugly sauntering back inside.

It wasn’t about food. It wasn’t hunger that drove her, but instinct. As you stare out the window at the doe, at the milky white emptiness of dead eyes, you wonder whether that’s the same here. There’s no tracks in the dirt, no blood smeared across the ground – it wasn’t dragged here. No animal could’ve done this.

A gift?

Or perhaps something less benevolent. A threat. You’ve crossed into territory you don’t belong and the deer, cruelly ripped apart and left to bleed out on your doorstep is a line in the sand.

Either way, as tears fill your eyes, a sob tugging free from your chest, you realise that it was a mistake to come here. You don’t know whether you trust your eyes and your ears anymore, but there is something deep inside of you that tolls like a warning bell and as much as you’d like to bury your head in the sand and pretend there’s nothing wrong here, you can’t.

Bad things happen in those mountains.

You need to leave.

The next ferry to the mainland doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning, but it’ll have to do. Once you stop shaking and calm down enough to carry a conversation, you call the local cab company to arrange a pick-up first thing.

You can survive one more night, you just need to throw yourself back into your writing… if you can only just ignore that sense of foreboding prickling at the back of your neck.

—

There’s a boy running through the trees, giggling as he glances back at you. His hand’s outstretched, wrapped ‘round yours tugging you along as he laughs at you to hurry up.

It’s late, the sun dipping below the horizon, but you don’t wanna go back just yet.

You’re having fun, playing in the forest. And the light is golden, filtering in through the pretty red leaves, your sides burn a little from all the chasing and laughter but it’s a good kind of ache. You don’t want today to end.

His name is Kohsuke, you remember, and he lives down in the village by the valley. He’s only one year older than you, and you’d follow him anywhere.

You think you might be a little in love with him.

‘C’mon, hurry up! It’s only a little further!’ he calls, and you nod, scrambling over the fallen trunk of an oak tree. There’s old spirits who live in this forest, he’d told you, and today you’re finally gonna see one.

It’s dark now. Cold too. You’re tired and hungry and you kinda want to go home, but Kohsuke won’t let you. ‘Just a little longer! Don’t you wanna see them?’

You do. Of course you do. It’s just that you’re starting to get a funny feeling in your stomach… Can he hear the footsteps too? Is somebody following you?

There’s a voice in your ear, a soft, silky purr that makes a shiver roll down your spine, but you can’t make sense of the words, they’re not in any language you understand. You don’t tell Kohsuke – he can’t hear it, otherwise he would have said something. You just clutch his hand tighter, skipping closer.

‘W-we should go back, Koh,’ you murmur, wincing when it comes out in a childish whine. ‘We’re gonna get in trouble.’

You aren’t supposed to stay out playing after dark, he knows it as well as you do. ‘You trust me, don’t you? Stop being such a chicken!’ he snickers as your cheeks heat.

The voice at your ear growls, low and threatening. You need to go back, now.

You blink, and the scene changes.

You’re curled up on the forest floor, hands covering your eyes. Somebody’s screaming – Kohsuke – crying out your name through ragged sobs, pleading–

There’s a crunch, a ripping sound, a wetness sprayed across your cheek.

Kohsuke’s not screaming anymore.

Something warm and heavy touches your head, drags through the locks of your hair and you just huddle tighter, eyes squeezed shut, shaking like a leaf as more tears spill. You don’t wanna die here.

The crunching sounds continue, and you keep your eyes tightly shut. It can’t hurt you if you don’t look.

It can’t hurt you if you don’t look.

It can’t–

A loud knocking jerks you back to consciousness, your body jolting upright, almost swiping your laptop off the table as you try and gather your bearings. Right, you’d been working on your novel, sitting up at the kitchen table, you must have dozed off… A quick glance out the window tells you that you must have been out of it for a while – the late afternoon shadows are starting to creep in, the sky a golden orange.

What the hell was that dream?!

“Hello? Uh, anybody home?” a masculine voice calls, another loud knock sounding. “We got a call about a wild animal attacking deer…”

Oh, you think, trying to shake yourself out of your stupor, the wildlife people, yeah. You feel a little nauseous, feverish and trembling, though maybe that’s just the result of your erratic heartbeat.

Swallowing down the bile in your throat, you turn your attention to the door. Truly you hadn’t actually expected that they’d send anybody out to investigate, much less that they’d arrive before you left, but you can hardly turn him away now.

Especially not when there’s a freshly butchered deer corpse lying only a few feet away from your front door. Quickly, you run a hand over your hair, taking a moment to try and collect yourself before you answer.

It doesn’t work – there’s a knot in your throat and for every step you take towards the door it feels like your legs are gonna give out from under you. You move in a daze to unlock the door, only just remembering to school your features into an expression slightly less alarming as it swings open.

A ranger, tall with a shock of black, messy hair that reminds you oddly of a rooster greets you with an easy grin. “Oh good, I was starting to think nobody was home. You the one that called?”

Distantly, you nod, fingers clutching at the edge of the doorframe. The ranger glances over at the remains of the deer, still lying in a pool of half dried blood, studying it for a moment, hazel eyes sweeping over the deep gashes in its side. You can’t bear to follow his gaze, you’re not sure you can look at that thing again without throwing up.

He whistles lowly, shaking his head, “Well you don’t see that every day,” he laughs.

Your eyes snap to his, narrowing slightly. It’s not his fault, you know that, but you can’t help the flicker of irritation that sparks at the cavalier attitude. This is just his job, you get it, but you don’t exactly feel like laughing right now.

“You still think a bear did this?” you retort, the words coming out a little sharper than intended.

But the ranger takes it in stride, shrugging as his smirk widens. “A bear, huh?” Amusement glitters in his eyes, sharp and mocking. “Why don’t I come inside and you can tell me all about it?” he offers, stepping closer towards you.

And there’s no reason for your heart to skitter, your blood running cold as he looms over you in the doorway, still wearing that stupid, irritating smirk. There’s no reason for your insides to clench either, or for the tiny, jerky step backwards you take, your body moving of its own accord.

The ranger pauses, head tilting to the side as he stares at you.

Really stares, like he’s waiting for something. And as discomfited as you are (and as much of an asshole as this guy is), a weary apology is halfway to your tongue when he shifts slightly, propping an arm up against the door – the last, dying rays of light catching his face.

It’s just for a second.

A heartbeat.

But long enough for you to watch those hazel eyes shift to gold, pupils elongating into slits.

You stumble backwards, breath coming in a short, ragged gasp as your eyes widen into saucers. “What are you?”

The ranger before you chuckles and you catch a glimpse of his teeth; pearly white and glinting, sharper than they had been only moments ago. “Why don’t you let me in and find out for yourself, kitten?”

You shake your head, retreating further into the cabin, heart pounding.

“No? You don’t like this body, is that it?” he asks, a cruel edge to his smirk as he takes a half step backwards and slowly spreads his arms. “Something more familiar, then.”

And you don’t think there’s any room left in your heart for more fear, your stomach already twisting in sickening knots, but you blink and standing right there in front of you is Kohsuke.

It’s a punch in the guts, a knife slipped between your ribs, yanked ruthlessly through your still beating heart. He’s beaming up at you, those same adorable dimples, the same ridiculous bowl cut, bleeding youthful innocence. “How about now?” he asks, holding out his hand and wriggling his fingers like he expects you to take it. “You’ll let me inside now, right?”

A strangled noise escapes you as you fall to your knees. Tears fill your eyes, blurring your vision – you blink them away but more take their place.

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asks, and you wail in response.

It’s too much. You shake your head, hugging yourself tightly, as if your arms are the only thing keeping you from falling apart entirely.

He calls your name – not in Kohsuke’s childish lilt, but that deep, ancient purr that makes the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “Let me in.”

“Go away,” you gasp through tears. “Please– please go away.”

The creature shifts again, the dark haired ranger back in Kohsuke’s place. He eyes you, those unnatural gold irises watching with utter enthralment as you sob pathetically on the floor, still pleading – though you know it’ll do you no good – for him to leave.

“Last chance, kitten. Let me in, or I’ll make you come out.”

He – it – doesn’t sound nearly as put out by the prospect as it should be.

And you don’t know why giving permission matters, all you know, all you care about, is that it’s keeping that thing at bay for now. It can’t come inside and so long as you don’t leave the safety of the cabin, it can’t hurt you. The words are nothing but an empty threat.

Right?

You shake your head, defiant even as your voice hitches and trembles, “No.”

“Stubborn little thing,” the creature croons, the smirk on its face widening until the visage no longer resembles anything human – mouth splitting its face in two, rows of long, sharp teeth revealed. “So be it.”

A low growl resonates in its chest, and you can only watch, petrified, as thin, vein-like black marks begin to appear over pale skin, growing thicker, cracking as shadow curls from underneath. The creature itself starts to grow too, limbs elongating as muscles ripple and swell, claws bursting forth in place of fingernails, shoulders broadening – until it’s towering over you, wreathed in thick shadow, grinning with that terrifying mouth.

This is the thing you’d glimpsed that first night. A creature ripped from nightmares and primal fears, strong enough to tear you apart with a single hand. That’s what it’d done to Kohsuke, to the doe, what it’d do to you if you gave it half a chance.

“You wanna play, kitten?” it asks, head tilting to the side.

Slowly, it backs away from the door, keeping its gaze fixed firmly on you. For a moment, you think that it’s going to disappear back into the forest, or plant itself by your window to watch for another night, waiting you out till dawn, but instead it stops by the old oak that overhangs the porch and stills entirely, simply… waiting.

“Let’s play.”

Abruptly, the oak beside it bursts into flames. It takes only a heartbeat for the entire thing to be engulfed, red and orange flames licking along the trunk, the gnarled, spindly branches, even the leaves are alight, burning away into ash and floating off in the breeze. The heat from one tree alone is searing, the crackle of burning wood and your own horrified, shuddering breath the only sounds in the night.

It snowed only a few nights before, but the fire spreads with unnatural ease, flames racing across the canopy, embers lighting up the undergrowth, and in the space of a few seconds there’s an inferno raging through the forest before you. And through the smoke and the red, burning haze, the creature watches, smirking.

The heat from the wildfire sears painfully at your skin, the air around you suddenly thick with smoke, stinging your eyes, choking your lungs, and yet you can’t seem to tear yourself away. It’s like a dream, a nightmare, some kind of… hellscape.

And for a moment you forget that there was a purpose to this, too lost staring in mute horror as the forest you’d played in as a child burns–

At least until a single leaf from the oak tree, edges curling as it’s consumed by flames, falls, carried by the breeze and lands on the wooden railing of the porch. With a soft whoosh, the old wooden beam catches fire, and with your chest heaving, panicked breaths falling from parted lips, you rise to your feet as flames spread, the fire eating everything in its path until the entire porch is alight, burning.

Run.

You don’t know if the voice in your head is yours or not, you don’t have time to care. You scramble for the back door, throwing it open, and you run.

Run until your lungs burn, til’ your bare feet are scratched and bleeding, run, pushed forward by the sweltering heat at your back, the chilling crackle of laughter that follows. You run through tears, through pain and air so thick with smoke that it hurts to breathe.

And you know the creature’s giving chase, you know that you won’t – can’t – outrun it, nor the inferno that blazes around you. You know that it’s futile, that you’re probably running to your death, but that’s human, isn’t it?

To run when you’re scared?

The sky’s awash with a hazy red glow when it catches you, throwing you to the ground, and still you try to crawl. Desperate, choking on broken pleas and sobs, nails raking through the dirt as you try to pull yourself forward.

And when your pants are ripped from your legs, a puff of warm air ghosting over the nape of your neck as you’re shoved back down, those long, black arms settling either side of you, caging you in – you know that you’ve lost.

“Mine,” the creature growls, and you barely have time to scream before its cock shoves into you with one brutal, merciless thrust. “Mine.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kuroo tetsurou #yandere kuroo tetsurou x reader #monster fic #horror fic #tw noncon #tw: noncon #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw: minor character death #tw: animal death #i am sorry #except not really tho

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jinkicake · 5 years ago

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King of The Thighs

Let’s dig a little deeper into Bokuto’s, very obvious, thigh kink.

Bokuto Koutarou x Reader

For the lovely anon~ where my thigh kink mfs at? Stand up! (꒵꜅꒵) I just want to say that this is meant to be fast-paced, I tried writing in a different way that was super rushed so that it feels like you got off a rollercoaster by the end of it. Not sure if it worked though, LOL. I was listening to EXO’s Obsession album while writing this, can we please talk about it? Where my exo-ls at? Such a masterpiece of an album.

S M U T ~~~

WC- 1,055

~~~

BOKUTO HAS A THIGH KINK, HE LOVES THIGHS

A thick thigh king like himself appreciates thighs

He is already so touchy but instead of grabbing your hand, he’s grabbing your thigh

Sitting beside him? His hand is on your thigh

Sleeping with him? His hand is on your thigh

How his hand hasn’t fallen off at this point, because sometimes you will wake up with his hand being squeezed between your legs, you don’t know

Bokuto loves to cuddle with you, his head resting on your soft thighs

It’s the perfect pillow

He sleeps so soundly against your legs with your hand buried in his hair

He worships your thighs

If Bokuto ever finds out how sensitive your thighs are, good luck

You’d think with how consumed he is with them, he would have been able to tell

But his touches affect him just as much as they affect you, so maybe that's why he hasn’t noticed

He’d be such a tease when he finds out, it would make him much more careful with his movements

Didn’t think I could fall more in love with this man, I guess I was wrong

Bokuto Kotaro loves your thighs. He always has one of his large hands on your thighs, resting snug with his fingers brushing your inner thigh. He does it aimlessly, not aware of what it does to you. Or maybe he is aware, sometimes you can’t tell.

Even now as he’s driving down one of the narrow roads through Izu, his hand is caressing your inner thigh. The windows are rolled down and the warm air feels so nice against your skin, Jekyll blaring through the speakers. You have to refrain from squeezing your legs together at each stroke of his fingers. The feeling of his hands on you is something you love, something that you adore. But when he touches your thighs its almost like a switch flips in your mind and you're consumed with the thought of him being on top of you. His lips hovering above your own, swallowing any moans that squeak from your lips as his hips thrust into your own.

It’s times like these you think he does this on purpose, that his touches aren’t as innocent as they seem. You know he can notice the way you’re tensed, how the heat in your body is rising, how you can’t help but stare at him as he continues to drive. How does someone look so effortless while driving?

Bokuto is just driving and you’re ready to drool all over him.

His hands seriously never leave your legs, not even when you’re at the beach and laid out on towels. As you scroll through twitter his hand is still resting on your inner thigh while he naps on his stomach. When he finally throws you into the ocean and you clutch desperately to his shoulders, his hands are cheekily cupping your ass, moving lower with each second.

Yes, Bokuto Kotaro has an obsession with your thighs. He loves them, he loves how soft they are, he loves how warm they are when he buries his face in-between them. Even now when he finally drags you back to his car in the deserted parking lot, that is the only thing on his mind. When he gently pushes you back against the seats, a warm towel already laid out, he situates himself over you. The light from the sun setting makes your skin glow and the sight causes him salivate. His lips are desperately moving against yours, full of passion with each kiss, it’s anything but slow.

You think that when Bokuto looks at you like this, it reminds you of how he looks while staring at the raw meat on the grills at Yakiniku. Except with you, his face is full with adoration but that desperate hungry is still there. You don’t have to time to think its cute because he already has your swimsuit pushed above your breast, his eyes lighting up at your exposed chest. He doesn’t stop though, simply drags his lips down your stomach and to the edge of your bottoms. It doesn’t take long for him to drag them down your legs and fling them into the drivers seat. A moan rips from your mouth when his lips leave hot kisses against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, he mouths at the skin messily.

“Fuck I need you to sit on my face.” Bokuto growls and it feels like your chest closed in on itself.

“K-Koutarou.” Your head tilts back against the door while Bokuto only grabs your thighs tightly in his hands. He doesn’t push them open, he never does. Roughly he throws each of your legs over his shoulders, crossing them tightly behind his neck so that your thighs are pressed flush against your face.

No matter how many times Bokuto eats you out, worships your thighs for hours on end, it never prepares you for how intensely he throws himself into it. You never last long, it’s always quick and consuming.

You can only dig your hands into his hair and hold on tightly while squeezing your thighs around his head. Honestly it’s a surprise that he hasn’t passed out from this yet but you imagine, if Bokuto wants to go out any way its from being suffocated by your thighs.

It’s all too much, the way his tongue continuously plays with your clit. The way his hands clutch your thighs, fondling them roughly. The way he moans and you can tell he is grinding his hips against the seats for much needed friction. However when you cum just as quickly as he got you undressed, it’s not the end. Bokuto will and can eat you out for hours, he has eaten you out for hours. Barley giving you time to recover and when you finally see his beautiful face for the first time in what seems like a lifetime, you notice that he is illuminated by the moonlight. It’s always your favorite being under the moon like this with him.

Once he finally gets that initial thigh craze out of his mind, you can kiss him delicately and take it as slow as you want. Ride him until your legs give out, all in the tiny space of his backseat.

#bokuto x reader #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto smut #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

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insteadhere · 3 years ago

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So I decided to give the apps another go and thought I’d give Her a try and I’ve been on it for 24 hours and I am just experiencing one level of discomfort after another.

Starting with setting up the profile, you can add answers to various questions, many re the usual superficial dating profile things like “currently listening to,” “sun, moon and rising signs,” “my favorite movie,” “introvert or extrovert” but then there’s also “top, bottom, or switch” (third on the list) and then further down “dom or sub,” because of course. There’s a whole FAQ on top/bottom on the app’s website and just reading it made me want to delete the whole thing. I might be old-fashioned, but isn’t sex kind of about enjoying each other? WTF is this thing of ‘being the kind of person who prefers to give vs. receiving pleasure’

Then I swipe through profile after profile and there’s just a whole bunch of trans-identifying men, trans-identifying women, non binary identifying women, many profiles explicitly stating “Fuck TERFs” and I know we won’t really get along.

And overall so many profiles are just noticeably more, I dunno, over-the-top/performative (?) than I’ve seen on most other apps, where a good majority of people would post pictures of them with friends, or doing a hobby or something, and I just keep seeing very femme women with 5 super filtered selfies and 1 pic in an evening dress or butch women with 2-3 pics, one of which is a mirror pic and one of which is in a car? And like, none of these are telling me anything about a woman in question?

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bleachanimefan1 · 3 years ago

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You Are My Sunshine Part Fifteen

Rises The Moon,

Gregory swam in the balls of the pits, trying to get the other side to get out. Gregory stopped when he heard someone laughing from above. He looked up and saw an Sun animatronic came twirling out from the balcony.

"Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!" The Sun chuckled joyfully and leaped off from the balcony dived down into the ball pit. Gregory's eyes widened, scared. Great, now it's in here with him! He had to get out. Carefully and trying to be quiet, Gregory slowly moved through the balls until he was almost at the end.

As he was about to climb out, Gregory screamed as he saw the Sun animatronic popped out from the balls, grabbing him, lifting him up.

"HELLO, NEW FRIEND! YOU SURE ARE UP LATE! WHERE ARE YOUR FRIENDS? ARE WE HAVING A SLUMBER PARTY?!" Sun exclaimed, excitedly. Gregory stared back in fear at the Sun's face, seeing his permanent creepy smile. The animatronic gently plopped the small boy down onto the foam mat, near a stack of tin drums. Gregory fell back and tried to crawl away from Sun but, he picked him up putting back next to the drums.

"We can stay up late, do finger painting, and tell stories, drink fizzy fazz until our heads EXPLODE! But, there's only one rule: Keep the lights on, ON,...on!" Sun said eerily as if it was a warning. Gregory turned his head away but Sun followed his every movement, where ever he looked. Then Gregory noticed the security desk not too far off from them. He can grab the badge and get out of here! Gregory tried to get up to get away from Sun. But, Sun grabbed the boy's wrist, firmly, but not too hard, keeping him in place.

"Hey, hey, are ya having fun yet, are ya?!" Sun asked, excitedly. "We can play hide and seek! Do you want to play?!"

"Get away from me!" Gregory shouted and kicked the drums next to them, knocking them over. Sun's eyes widened in horror at the scattered drums on the floor. Messy, messy, disorderly, it was chaos! Sun released the boy and bent down and started to pick them up.

"No, No, No! What a mess! Which one's the bottom? Where's the top?" Sun cried out, then started stacking them back. "Clean up, clean up!"

Wasting not a minute, Gregory quickly ran away from Sun while he was distracted. As Sun was finished stacking the drums, he began to panic as he didn't see Gregory anywhere.

"A-Are we playing hide and seek? Okay, I'll count!" Sun covered his face and quietly began counting with slow ticking noises as he did. Gregory peeked out from the play structure not too far off, seeing him do so. What a strange robot? Gregory turned his head back to the security desk just a few feet from him. He faced out from his hiding spot, charging directly at it. Sun looked up peeking through his fingers, seeing Gregory heading towards the desk.

"N-New friend! That area is off limits, you're going to get us both in trouble!" He stammered nervously and quickly skipped over trying to stop the boy. However, Gregory had made it behind the desk, out of the animatronic's reach. Sun began to grow even more nervous now. His eyes drifted over towards the light switch on the wall, near the flashlight charging station, before turning back towards Gregory.

"D-Do you like puppet shows? I got glitter glue! Do you like glitter glue?! G-Googly eyes?" He asked, hoping to persuade the boy out. Gregory saw a security case, that looked like Freddy with a security badge inside. Maybe, he can this to get to get out of here!

Gregory opened the security case and took the badge "Got it!" He smiled.

Suddenly, the lights in the Daycare went out. Sun froze and his eyes widened fearfully. He had left Ayla's flashlight back in his room. It was too late for him to run back and grab it now. Sun heard Moon's raspy glitch chuckle, feeling him starting to take over. Sun hopped onto the desk, startling Gregory by how close he was.

"NO! Why would you do that?! LIGHTS ON! LIGHTS ON! I WARNED you! I WARNED YOU!" Sun screamed at him in horror and disbelief, his hands shaking. Scared, Gregory moved back from him. Sun groaned and growled painfully as he grabbed his head, struggling to keep at bay. He missed stepped and lost his balance, falling off from the desk.

Gregory held his breath too scared to move. Sun had gone completely quiet. As Gregory took a small step to see what happened, two hands slowly came up, slamming on top of the desk. Gregory screamed. His eyes widened in fear as he saw Moon come up. His glowing red eyes, shining, staring back at Gregory's.

"Naughty boy, naughty boy, it's past your bedtime." Moon chuckled, raspy and glitchy as well. "You must be punished." He hopped back onto the desk hopping on one foot to the other before he waved slowly, vanishing into the dark. "Nighty night!"

Gregory quickly looked around trying to find Moon but it was pitch black. Suddenly, he was startled by Freddy's voice as he called out to him on his fazwatch.

"Gregory, I don't know what you did, but the lights in the Daycare are out-"

"I didn't do anything!" Gregory shouted. "I just grabbed a stupid looking badge thing from the security desk and all of the lights went out!"

"Gregory, this is Ayla, is Moon in there with you!?" Gregory heard Ayla shouting at him.

"Yes, that creepy Sun wouldn't let me go and now that Moon thing is in here with me! He's trying to get me!" Gregory exclaimed.

"Okay, first of all, I'm going to have to stop you right there, don't call ever Sun creepy or I will make you regret it. Besides, it wasn't even his fault to begin with if you just stayed put-"

"Ayla, this isn't helping-"

"Sorry, Freddy," Gregory heard her talking to Freddy on the other end. "Gregory, there are five back up generators in the Daycare. Turn them all back on and Sun will turn back. We will try to get to you as fast as we can."

Gregory turned back to the dark daycare and saw several neon power lines strung along the play areas. He froze as heard Moon's raspy glitch laughter somewhere in the dark. There was no way he was going out there without a flashlight. Gregory took a flashlight from the charger and shined it all around the Daycare to find Moon. He still didn't see him. Now was his chance to find the generators and turn them on.

Gregory took a step out from behind the security desk. As he did, Gregory froze as he was Moon suspended in the air, swimming towards him. He detached himself from the cable and flipped down landing on his feet gracefully. He grinned maliciously and started hopping on foot to the other.

"Naughty children must be punished!"

Gregory quickly took off following the power line until he reached a play structure and crawled inside. He saw the first generator and flipped it back on. Gregory looked out from the side of the structure to see Moon stalking around outside. Quickly, Gregory ran across the bridge to the second play area. He crawled in the tunnels until he heard Moon land on top of it. Gregory froze in his tracks. This thing was worst than Sun and knew exactly where the boy was. Gregory found the second generator and turned it back on. He climbed out of the tube and jumped down landing near the third generator, switching it back on.

"Bad children must be found!"

Gregory eyes widened as he saw a bright red light above him coming closer to him through the tubes. Moon peeked out looking down at him, laughing deviously. Gregory screamed as Moon lunged at him. He quickly moved out of the way and sprinted over to the last play structure. He ran up the ramp to the top, finding the fourth generator turning it back on. Just one more to go! Gregory turned around and saw what looked like something that crawled out from a nightmare. Moon was right behind him, his body twisted at an unnatural angle, rushing towards him like a spider. Gregory let out a terrified scream and ran away sliding down the slide down the slide until he reached the bottom. Where was that last generator!?

Gregory frantically searched around for it but didn't see it anywhere. Suddenly, Gregory was grabbed and lifted into the air. He screamed fearfully as he saw Moon's face up against his. Gregory tried to get out of Moon's grasp on him, but he held on tighter.

"Let go you're hurting me!" Gregory shouted at the animatronic.

"Bad children must be punished!" Moon laughed at him. Gregory raised his leg and kicked Moon hard underneath his face plate, making him let go. Moon held his face growling painfully.

"YOU LITTLE SH-!" He almost cursed out before heard Sun yelling at him in the back of his mind.

"MOON! We don't use that kind of language here! You know that!"

"Hey, Moon!" Moon growled as he heard a woman's voice calling out to him. He turned around and his eyes widened in surprise seeing Ayla standing behind him. She actually came...

"She came! Moon! I told you! I told you that she will come!" Sun cried out, happy to see her.

However, Moon froze as he saw that Ayla was also standing next to the last generator.

"I'm sorry, Moon, but, until we get you fixed, this is for your own good!" She quickly flipped the switch turn it back on.

"NO!" Moon screamed out as he tried to stop her, but he was too late.

The lights in the Daycare came back on and Moon stopped in his place. He growled painfully as he tried to keep Sun from coming back out, but failed. The foam petals protruded back out, his face plate twisted as it turned until it locked into place, the clothes changed color, turning back to Sun.

Sun looked around confused until he saw Gregory on the floor, backing away from him, fearfully.

"On no! No, no, no, there's nothing to be scared of! See, it's me!" Sun tried to reassure him. But, it wasn't doing much to calm the little boy down who was traumatized by the whole event that he had just witnessed. Suddenly, Sun felt arms wrap around him as Ayla, pulled him closer to her, hugging him. He immensely hugged her back. He was relieved and happy to see her.

"You came! I told Moon that you would, but he didn't believe me! He said that you would forget about us!" He exclaimed. "I told him that you would!"

"I would never forget about you." She smiled and said to him, while taking Sun's hands holding them.

"Both of you."

#five nights at freddy's #gregory fnaf #sun and moon #daycare attendant #sundrop #moondrop #fanfiction #Read more #fnaf security breach #Security Breach #Fnaf OC

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years ago

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Fifth Floor Ghost

The hospital is a brick building only five stories tall, known only as Cassell College Health and Wellness Clinic. Even though it was a small facility, it could have been ranked among the top hospitals in the world for its access to expertise. Some of the most prestigious doctors were Cassell alum and with a single phone call, they could be summoned in an emergency.

Each of the five floors was dedicated to a certain practice. The bottom floor was the emergency and ICU department and pharmacy and general medicine. The second floor was rehabilitation, physical therapy and sports medicine. The third floor was an area for surgeries. The fourth floor was the lab. The fifth floor and the basement were for the more exclusive patients.

There is a rumor that the basement and the Fifth floor of Cassell College clinic were actually haunted. It’s said that at night, if you stare at the upper floor of the clinic, you’ll see the shadow of a person staring out at you from the windows. If you come close, you can hear doors opening and shutting. Or you can hear the sounds of voices floating to your ears from inside.

Some of the professors encourage such rumors, saying that wandering in will provoke the spirits there and that no one should even attempt to enter these forbidden zones for fear of being cursed. Others laugh it off and say that these floors are storage or empty and there is no such thing as ghosts.

Only a few of the oldest members of the college can remember the real dirty history of these floors. Before there were reliable ways to determine the stability of the bloodline, this is where unstable students were taken to be euthanized. The walls were reinforced with concrete and steel. The windows were rigged with traps and explosive devices to keep from being opened.

If the students were members of Hydra or the former Devil Clan, they would immediately recognize this sort of building. It was the same sort of building that was built in the remote mountains of Japan -- The Black prison that held the White King Hybrid Ghosts. The sort of facility that Lu Mingfei found so familiar and had housed Erii Uesugi when she was alive, had originated in Cassell College. They would understand that the people held on those floors were something far worse than any vengeful spirit, and wouldn’t wish to speak of it ever again.

Early every morning, someone stirred at the top floor of this building. Tigre didn’t understand himself to have migrated from one cage in Mexico to another cage at the top of Cassell College clinic. To him, this was heaven to see the light of the sun rise through the small dingy window and hear the song of the birds chirping outside to greet it.

His room is white all around to reflect the light, as though he were in a sea of clouds. He stretched and turned into it, letting the sun warm his face. His calm innocent smile was offset by the horrific scarring on his bare arms, chest and back. It was no wonder he was called, “Tigre” or ‘tiger’. Not only was he strong and deadly, the dark scars resembled stripes.

One had to wonder how someone like him survived to his age. It was frightening to think how he could sustain this many wounds and still be alive and walking.

He reaches over and presses play on a small cellphone. On the phone is the voice of Masashi Toyama. “Tigre, today be sure to shower, brush your teeth for two minutes after you shower and comb your hair well, fold your clothes into the drawer neatly like I showed you…”

These are simple life habits, but habits that Tigre had never had a chance to cultivate. Something as simple as showering and brushing teeth was something he would forget to do or only do half way before he got distracted by something simple, like flushing the toilet or trying to figure out how the light switch actually worked.

He was strong enough and had enough time to take apart everything in his room. It wasn’t unusual for the nursing staff to come and find that he had partially dismantled the furniture or undone the door. How he figured out how to remove the exhaust fan in the bathroom was another mystery. Eventually the maintenance crew went and bolted down everything they could to keep him from pulling it apart again.

He was a strange patient. He was calm and compliant as a child, but his curiosity and strength tore everything around him apart and those around him had to acknowledge that he was not a child but a grown man. Like a child, he didn’t understand that the sudden ratcheting down of everything in the room meant that he wasn’t supposed to touch those things again. He took it as a puzzle. As though he had won the game and now entered ‘Challenge mode.’ He did understand however, when he broke the door completely that maybe he had done something wrong.

It was almost time for Toyama to arrive for his lesson. He listened for his steps in the hall, standing in the middle of the room, still. When he was right at the door, he waited until the door was about to open and then leaped up from a standing start and braced his arms against the corner of the wall just inside the door. He can only maintain this position a short time, his arms and feet pushed against the texture. Toyama walked in and didn’t see him. He looked left and right. His eyes widened in a panic and called out. “Tigre? Tigre!” He hurried forward towards the bathroom to look inside. Tigre leaped from the wall and pushed him into the bathroom and shut the door!

“Tigre! Tigre! No! Bad!” Toyama scolded him.

He opened the door to an empty room again. There were only a few places Tigre could hide. Under the bed was one, but more often, Tigre would just hide in Toyama’s blind spots. He turned to his right and Tigre was standing there. He was so close, Toyama was surprised he didn’t smell him. Toyama staggered backwards with a yelp.

“Tigre! No!” Tigre said, imitating his voice and speaking at the same time as him.

Toyama adjusted his glasses. Normally, such behavior was intolerable from any patient. But Toyama was an expert in Hybrid psychology and high ranking Hybrids were all little maniacs, whether they admitted it or not. If Tigre didn’t torment him a little, he would be more concerned than not. In all frankness, given his 24 hour confinement, these little pranks spoke to his mental stability.

Toyama sighed as he looked at his patient’s sturdy muscular frame in his simple shirt and slacks and bare feet. Those golden eyes shined above his dark glasses with a certain animal intensity, the pupils wide as marbles. He was in a playful mood, but anyone looking at him right now would be absolutely terrified at the eyes of this monster.

Elsewhere in the college, students were waking up to hurry to classes and study for midterms. He was dealing with students who were stressing over dissertations and exams most of the day, so these little moments of wild madness were more welcome than before. He tried to imagine Tigre behind a desk, quietly reading or behind a keyboard typing a report and the thought was so ridiculous that he couldn’t do it.

However, weeks ago, his report to Schneider said that Tigre was starting to pace, and rub his sides against his cage. He was reaching the point where he would start to earnestly try to escape and they needed to release his pent up energy in a meaningful controlled way before they lost all control of the situation.

He expected a rejection. After all, Tigre’s blood was far over the acceptable limit to the point that he should have been considered for euthanasia. To Toyama, this was a pointless and cruel exercise, keeping him confined here, but letting him outside was madness.

He didn’t expect Schneider to respond back with a letter approving nightly outings with Tigre supervised by the Executive Board. The letter expressed that Tigre’s progress has been pleasing so far and they look forward to his continued improvement.

Toyama was speechless at this message. Schneider understood more than anyone the terrible power of unstable hybrids and that they were in a war against dragons. Dragons were the enemies of humans, like the wolf was a natural enemy to the deer. It wasn’t something that could be changed by treaties or by talks.

Some might point to some small examples, such as a lioness that had adopted a baby antelope as its cub. Even though this lioness protected the poor calf as best as it could, one day, the lioness turned her back at the wrong time, and a male lion devoured her pet. Even though the lioness might have felt some negative emotions, there was nothing she could do and in the end, she forgot about her little ‘pet baby antelope’ and didn’t mourn for it.

This was the opposite. They were adopting a lion into a herd of antelope. This young man was more dragon than he was human. Tigre was fond of Toyama now, but when his true nature took over, would he feel any remorse in killing anyone?

Schneider wasn’t a complete fool and promised him that precautions would be put in place for the outings. On the first night he went out, the area was cleared of all human presence, snipers were placed on roofs and a Predator drone hummed threateningly in the air. Tigre was none the wiser as he explored the college, his face wreathed in a smile. He looked up and leaped into the tree to pluck off a leaf and admire it in the dark.

In that unnatural quiet, Toyama walked with him alone. They passed by the statuesque architecture, worn by a hundred years of weather, looking at the stars between the branches of the trees, faint from the city lights, the moon seeming to hang low between the buildings. If one wasn’t aware of the situation, they could be excused for thinking that Toyama was walking with a close relative, like a son.

But after some time, the differences between them became more apparent, Tigre would get distracted by a sound, and his muscles and senses would key up, and he would stop, on high alert. Toyama would allow him to follow the sound, occasionally taking them both into drainage ditches and patches of landscaping, until he found what he was looking for -- a stray cat, opossum or raccoon. Soon, Toyama was getting well acquainted with Cassell College’s wildlife.

Tigre wouldn’t harass them though, he would just sit and watch their behavior, which was always growling and snarling. Tigre didn’t understand that his aura was the intimidating aura of a predator that had cornered its prey.

It was this aura that Toyama aimed to tame. He couldn’t remove that nature from him. He could only redirect it to innocent pursuits. Rather than hunting animals around the college, he took to ‘studying’ them. Rather than cornering them, he shadowed them and made observations. Then he finally taught him to make reports and turn them in to him as homework. These reports he also turned into Schneider for his analysis.

Schneider would send them back with notes, asking questions which he would return to Tigre for a response. In this way, Schneider and Tigre got acquainted with each other.

Finally, after several days, Schneider met with Principal Anjou and Vice Principal Franco at a trendy night club. Toyama wasn’t sure what was said, but the next morning it was announced that Tigre was going to be inducted as an official student at Cassell College and Toyama should preside over his 3E exam. Toyama had hoped that Tigre would be matriculated privately and quietly but in this case, it was decided that he would be enrolled normally, as though he were no different.

Toyama felt that he could argue with Schneider, but he couldn’t argue with him and the two Principals. His continued training would have to happen outside his jurisdiction.

“Tigre…” Toyama looked at him with kind and sad eyes. “Today you have a very special test. This test will take you to be one of Cassell’s official students.”

“Really?” Tigre’s eyes widened.

“I will tell you a bit about it, so that you are not surprised. You will hear music and then you will hear a voice in the speakers. This voice will speak to your heart in a way no other voice has spoken to you before. There will be a series of questions and you will write down the answers to the best of your ability. Understand?”

Tigre nodded. “Yes.”

“No matter what. Please remember… you mustn’t hurt anyone. Even if you really want to. Understand?”

Tigre tilted his head. “I understand.”

“Okay…” Toyama considered for a few more seconds and pulled Tigre into an awkward hug. “You’ve done very well. Keep doing well.”

#Dragon Raja

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years ago

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June Prompt #2- Carpe Diem

A POINT OF NO RETURN FLASHBACK

A/N: Shh. It’s still June. Couldn’t leave past Clara and Ezra in the past, so here is another flashback from those three happy years on the farm before everything fell apart. This is closer to the three year mark in the PoNR timeline. I loosely based the stream behind Clara’s farm on the photo below- it’s one I took a few years back at Enfield Falls in NY. (The darker parts right under the small waterfalls are the deeper pools)

Request: “skinny dipping” from @cannedsoupsucks

WC: 1.6k

Warning: oh just a little hint of zesty times. can’t really skinny dip without those.

Seasons turned quickly on Kamrea.

The Thulian harvest spanned only three weeks before the rains came, soaking the land and raising the water level in the streams. After the month-long deluge, there was a blip in the weather patterns lasting anywhere from a few days to a week or two when the combination of the planet’s position and the clarity of a sky scrubbed clean of clouds made for breathtaking views. During that indeterminate window, the Vernal Star was at its brightest, giving the world a golden yellow glow, but the cerulean hued ocean planet Lao and its moon Brizo were also visible to the naked eye, and at certain times of day the light refracting off of Lao’s waters made the whole sky flash green. When the winter came it did so in a hurry, too, sweeping in under the dim purple light of the Hibernal Star, flash freezing the fields and orchards, and turning the Lakelands to ice. Snow flurried lazily for a fortnight or so and melted before it ever added up to an inconvenient amount. Before long the rotation of seasons was pivoting back towards planting and tending and time to get to work before the harvest crept up again.

To an outsider, someone who hadn’t grown up there, life on Kamrea might easily seem rushed, stressful. Clocks ticked and calendar pages filled with Xs as Kamreans bustled along to keep with their constantly shifting time constraints and limitations. Nothing lasted long, and if you blinked you could miss things like the malachite color of the spring starshine bouncing off the waves on Lao or the iridescent glow Brizo gave off, even the faint but sweet smell in the air that signaled the beginning of the Thulian growing season, and you would have to wait an entire year for another chance.

But to those who had spent enough time there, whether they grew up on the fertile planet like Clara or had transplanted themselves on Kamrean soil as Ezra had done, the pace and rigidity of the seasons wasn’t something to fight or fear. Instead it was a constant reminder that life was happening now, not later, that there was beauty in catching a moment that was meant to be fleeting, in appreciating small slices of time. Each day came with the potential to see or hear or feel something never experienced before, and the potential to miss those moments seemed only to invigorate the Kamrean philosophy of making every moment count.

Which is precisely what I am doing.

Ezra looked up between the branches of the crater-oak that the swing he and Clara occupied hung from, at the thunderhead that had been gathering in the sky over the last hour or so. Kamrea was about to experience one of those split-second switches, where it would cease to be Harvest season with the first raindrop to plummet from the fat-bellied clouds. Any minute, they and the fields and the barn and the town over the hills and everything else on this side of the globe would be caught in a deluge and soaked to the bone, to the roots, to the bedrock. He moved his arm from the backrest of the wooden swing to wrap around Clara’s waist, hand resting at her hip.

Any minute now.

Looking back down at Clara, he saw that she had taken her eyes off of the rippling stream that the swing was situated on the bank of, and turned her attention skyward as well. What little daylight that hadn’t been squeezed out by the clouds and managed to make it down through the foliage lit the profile of her face in clean, green-tinted hues and he briefly wondered if other people felt this level of awe and devotion when they were with the one they cared about most in life, or if this was unique to the two of them. If they don’t then I truly pity them.

He watched her shoulders rise and fall as she sighed, the small motion one he had seen her do countless times before but still always bringing a flush of warmth to his chest. “End of another season.” She gave him a smile that quirked to one side, a mixture of pride and nostalgia and love for her farm twinkling in her eyes to make her face light up more than the leaf-filtered, cloud strangled starshine could. Oh, look at you, my Clara. Her tongue poked out then to wet her lips, and she stood from the swing, both of her hands clasping around the one of his that had been at her waist to pull him to his feet. “We should get inside before it starts coming down, or we’ll be soaked.”

We certainly will be, that’s correct.

“I think that you are absolutely right, Huckleberry.” Ezra took his turn to smirk then, catching her completely off guard as he stood only to use her own grips on his much larger hand against her. Pulling back, he yanked her into his arms, the second one swiftly enveloping her to make sure she was tucked tightly against his body, and then he jumped from the bank into the stream, plunging them both into one of the naturally formed deep pools at the base of one of the stream’s small cascades. Clara’s surprised gasp of his name devolved into a laughing shriek as their clothing suctioned to their skin, their hair dripping in their eyes, rivulets of cool, clear liquid running down their cheeks.

The pool that he had jumped into was shaped like a circular basin, cut and carved by the force of the water spilling over the tiered rocks that brought the upper level of the stream to meet the level at the bank. It wasn’t rushing with extreme force now due to the dry harvest season, but once the rains came and filled the stream past its bursting point, the water would fall in relentless torrents that over centuries had created a deeper pocket in the streambed, an ephemeral pool that was currently deep enough for both of them to be submerged when he jumped, but still shallow enough for him to be able to touch the bottom.

He set his feet down, thankful that the two of them had kicked their shoes off before sitting on the swing, both pairs still dry under the tree, and Clara wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms winding around his neck as his hands bolstered beneath the pockets of her denim shorts. Her eyes were still wide with shock, her lips wide in a laughing grin, and her sopping wet ponytail sprayed him with droplets as she shook her head. “Ezra! What are you- why did you do-”

Before she could get a full question out, ripples started appearing on the surface of the water, a slow pattering sound accompanying them as rain started to fall, hitting the leaves of the crater-oak and plopping into the stream. “Well, it’s like you said,” he leaned in and used his tongue to collect a bead of water from in front of her ear, lips brushing her skin as she shivered and clutched him closer. “It was inevitable that we would end up water-logged one way or another.”

He pulled back in time to see her breastbone sink, her breathing labored from his warm tongue on her damp skin, her light colored tank top nearly see through and plastered to her curves. Ezra had seen Clara come in from the rain. He’d seen her after a shower, Kevva, he’d seen her in the shower. He had seen her get wet when making adjustments to the irrigation system, or when he’d splashed her with soapy dishwater in the kitchen. But he had never seen this- the unexpected look in her eyes, the rush of excitement, the sheer absurdity of trying to avoid getting rained on and ending up in chest high water instead. You are the most ravishing woman in all of Kevva’s creation, Clara.

She laughed, pressing and rolling the curve of her forehead against his before replacing it with her lips. “Yes, but now our clothes are all-”

Ezra took one of his hands away from where he held her to work its way between her shirt and her body, pulling upwards until his fist with the material bunched in it surfaced, and he peeled the soaked garment over her head. Making expert work of the clasp on her bra, he rid her of that, too. Before he returned his hand to the globe of her ass beneath the water, he let it trail down the valley of her chest, thumb and pinky grazing the inside curves of her breasts and pulling a breathy sound from her throat. “What was it you were saying about our clothes, Huckleberry?”

He tilted his chin, cocking his head to one side as he switched hands beneath the water, bringing his other one between their bodies to the zipper of her shorts, yanking down as she stuck both of her hands under his shirt, running up the sides of his body as she followed his lead and rid him of his top. Flinging the olive green shirt that now looked black with how soaked it was onto the bank, Clara reached under the water to help him free her from the cutoffs she wore, their eyes meeting as their wet fingers bumped together in their hurry.

“Just that we need to get them off, Ezra.” That clean, innocent light in her eyes that was filtering through the trees just moments ago was gone, replaced with a burning desire that the stream nor the rain could do anything to quell. “We need to get them off, right now.”

*taken from JSTOR: Gathering flowers as a metaphor for timely enjoyment is a far gentler, more sensual image than the rather forceful and even violent concept of seizing the moment. It is not that as a culture we can’t understand what it means to harvest something when it’s ready—we do have related metaphors like “making hay while the sun shines,” after all. But there is something in the more Hollywood phrasing “seize the day” that has clearly resonated with people in the last thirty years. We understand the phrase to be, rather than encouraging a deep enjoyment of the present moment, compelling us to snatch at time and consume it before it’s gone, or before we’re gone.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for this or any of my stories/characters, please feel free to let me know! :)

Tags: @something-tofightfor @alraedesigns @pheedraws @shoopidly @fific7 @valkblue @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @cannedsoupsucks @tobealostwanderer @paracosmenthusiast @gracie7209 @dihra-vesa

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crypticsewerslut · 4 years ago

Text

🪐IIIkurtvalentineIII's Reading🌌

💙Your most compatible with Fire or Earth signs since that's what your chart lacks, however a water romantic partner wouldnt be the worst

💙Your "Problem" Areas are

-Chest, Stomach, titties (Saturn, Moon in the 4th)

-Arms, hands, lungs, shoulders (Saturn in Gemini)

-Feet(Pisces Sun)

-Eyes (1st house stellium)

-Calves, ankles, shins (Aquarius Asc)

*These could just be weaker parts of your body or with eyes you could need glasses yk. These could also be things that run in your family*

💙Air dominate people are WEIRD- 😭but ily

💙Your big 3 is all different elements so I picture you as having multiple personalities or like sides to you?

💙Sun in Pisces 1st house, Polite and independent these natives are known to be quite attractive. Your very romantic by nature and have a great imagination. Your in touch with your emotions and mentally strong.

💙Your moons kinda carrying that sense of stability, it's your only earth sign and it's at 29° which has gone through all the other dglegrees so its strong and mature.

💙29° also indicates being a clairvoyant

💙Aquarius risings might like to post on social media often. Or they record/take pictures often, they love capturing every moment and looking back on it :)). They're also very hard working and politically they tend to lean more progressive. Always thinking about the future.

💙Appearance: Aquarius risings might have longer arms or legs, they tend to have oval shaped faces, skinner noses, and super cool sense of fashion (piercings, tattoos, alternative fashion, indie fashion, etc.)

💙Mercury in the 12th are known to be super antisocial

💙Mercury in Aquarius- OMFG yall are just so logical. They're very progressive and intelligent. However they're also super curious and ask a lot of questions. They're also over thinkers and with the 12th house they probably space out a lot. It might be pretty easy for you to read people, even just through body language. You learn through hearing instructions.

💙Pisces Venus tend to be attractive to partners that they think they can "fix" or are "broken". Prefers more flirty/touchy partners. With intimacy it's all about the emotional bond, the hook up life style isnt for you. Connects with animals and disassociates often. Commitment may be an issue for you.

💙Mars Aries 3rd house, tbh cant tell if your a top or bottom I'm leaning towards soft top or aggressive bottom so I'll just say switch. Stubborn and always wants it their way. Has quite the ego. Strong sex drive and could be into dirty talk.

💙Jupiter in the 5th super creative and spiritual.

💙Jupiter in Cancer hopeless romantic. Just make sure the relationship is stable and healthy<3. Doesnt even have the emotional capacity to process how they feel.

💙Saturn 4th house, these natives might be more peaceful and in their household they rarely fight. Scared if opening up even when they need help. Problems with family, specifically parents.

💙Uranus in the 1st, Quirky🤪. Could indicate a unique feature like a scar or mole on the face, different colored eyes, etc. May be questioning your gender, sexuality, pronouns, etc.

💙Neptune 12th house people are great a reading others or predicting things. Great intuition.

💙Pluto in the 11th house, issues regarding control. Loyal and reliable. Value their friends alot. Super ambitious and passionate. Been through some shit.

💙Chiron in the 11th house, trust issues. And when I said earlier that you may attract "broken" significant others, you also tend to have depressed friends. (I got this from tumblr I forget the acc)

💙Your descendant is Leo. so a Leo would be a great significant other for you.

💙Sorry The blog I used to use for liliths isnt working-

I recommend you visit body's of water or just connect with nature.🌠

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gretavanfleetposts · 3 years ago

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Can I get a ship 🥺🥺

I’m 5’5 Virgo sun, Sagittarius Moon Sagittarius rising, I’m a little tiddy goth witch gf with a dump truck to haul around 🤣 my hair never stays one color but I am a natural blonde which I’m rocking currently (usually it’s pink or black or every other color at once) I have my labret, both nostrils, and my smiley pierced as well as a huge spider tat on my thigh with several small stick and pokes on my left wrist.

My favorite things to do are reading while jamming to music (of any kind really, except rap) I draw fashion designs but I don’t have the energy to actually make them lol. I love going for walks in nature and finding a spot to do yoga while connecting with the earth. I really love road trips and going on random spontaneous adventures with my friend or sometimes alone. I very much enjoy doing psychedelics and having very personal spiritual experiences on them. I have many other hobbies bc my ADHD likes to switch it up but my interest in music, art, and the meaning of life never fade. My favorite books are the twilight saga but that’s just bc I’m a nerd, but my go to favorite is actually the Ozzy Osborne Autobiography. Mans has had a crazy life 😮‍💨

My go to outfits are crop tops or tied band tees with bell bottoms bc they make my legs look 🤌🏻*chefs kiss* or skinny jeans but mostly I opt for a skirt or a dress bc I like to show off my spider tattoo and my thighs lol. I tend do go for a style that I would call fairy goth.

I have 2 cats, a small calico and a large black cat. They’re named October (tobi) and Dave respectively.

My go to song to make me feel better is either Cool With You by Her’s or Dreams by Fleetwood Mac. I have an extremely vast music taste, there’s not a lot that I don’t listen to. I tend to avoid modern music genres like rap and hyper pop type stuff just bc I prefer music made with instruments instead of computers and I’m not at all a fan of auto tune lol. My go to genres are metal, 60s-70s rock, indie and psychedelic rock, sometimes folk too if it’s not too twangy or country lol. I listen to certain pop artists but I tend to find songs I like rather than albums or artists.

There’s nothing I want more in life than to travel the world and just experience life from everyone’s perspective. I want to visit Japan and Europe the most. I’ve been trapped in a small town my whole life so all I wanna do is explore. I have no interest in being famous or rich, I just would like to be free to do what I want with people I love without having to worry about poverty anymore. When I’m old and withered I wanna be the lady in the woods that everyone in the town has different myths and legends about and every time someone stumbles across my cottage they’re greeted with tea and crystals 😋

Hey there, lovely!

❤: Little tiddy goth witch gf with a dump truck. Say no more, I ship you with me. No but really, you sound insanely cool. You clearly have great style, great taste in music, and great taste in books (I'm looking at you, Twilight saga). If you're looking for more friends, I volunteer.

Ship: Josh

Because: I think little tiddy goth girlfriend is exactly what Josh wants, to be honest. He would be obsessed with your witchy aesthetic. He would invite you on tour with the band so that you would be able to travel the way you have always wanted to. And he would love seeing you in the audience cheering him on wearing bell bottoms and a Greta Van Fleet t-shirt.

Scenario:

You weren't sure what had overcome you when you agreed to let Josh give you a tattoo but nonetheless, there you were, sitting on the table in front of him, needle in his hand, as Danny and Sam observed from a distance

It was just a simple stick and poke but something about Josh's excitement and Danny's nerves made you silently question the decision for a brief moment

Josh stretched out your leg with his hand, splaying it out in front of him

"Where do you want it, mama?" he asked, his grip tightening on your calf

You gestured to an empty spot on your ankle

He smiled and began filling the needle with ink

"You're really letting him do this?" Jake asked, having entered the room with a jack and coke in hand

Josh scoffed in front of you, as if to say 'Of course she's letting me do this' as Jake passed his drink to you for you to sip on

To Jake's amusement, Danny shut his eyes and winced as Josh moved to stick the needle against your ankle

It was a familiar pain, one that you had grown used to during your many tattoo sessions. But the weight of Josh's hand holding your calf steady dulled the pain

It warmed you. Kept you calm

Danny peeked out from behind his fingers at Josh's handiwork as he continued poking at your skin, occasionally re-filling the needle with ink as needed

Everyone other than Josh seemed to be holding in a collective sigh as he worked

You couldn't help but laugh at the tension and the nerves in the room

It was over almost as soon as it had started

Before you knew it, Josh was leaning back in his seat with a wide grin on his face

You met his eyes briefly then peered down at your newly exposed ankle, gazing down at a small heart etched freshly etched into your skin

Your heart practically did a somersault in your chest

You took a moment to file the feeling away as you returned your gaze to your boyfriend's face

He was beaming, of course

"Do you like it, mama?"

You practically jumped off the table and into his arms. You loved it

I hope you liked it! Thank you for the request!

-⭐

ships are currently closed

#anon #anon ships #ships #gvf #gvf ships #greta van fleet #greta van fleet ships #gretavanfleetpostsships

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