#wednesday dividers

[dreamland-gallery]

Wednesday dividers

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[n109hunter]

WIP Wednesday - 'first kiss'

pairing: sylus x mc word count: 720 summary: *chanting* first kiss, first kiss, first kiss tags/warnings: first person, first kiss! a/n: I have a good several dozen scenarios in my head at any given time for a 'first official kiss' for SyMC but lo! I've finally started writing one of them! Like Sunday's Snippet, it's technically incomplete, but I think a nice stand-alone treat for now on it's own.

Sylus’s finger brushed my lips with such a slow and delicate touch that if I closed my eyes I might have thought I was dreaming. I couldn’t close them though, instead my focus was locked entirely on his face, the rest of the world fading to a blur. The only clear thing I could see, there was no way I could miss the aching look in his eyes, or the way his gaze scanned down to my mouth and lingered there, his own lips tightening almost imperceptibly - if I’d blinked I would have missed it.

My chest ached and I knew without a trace of doubt the pain was the same as the one I could see in his eyes. I needed this distance between us gone, need to touch him and taste him without any more restraints.

‘Kiss me.’ I couldn’t make myself speak, half-afraid I’d startle that sweet look of longing from his face, or otherwise ruin this moment, but every fiber of my being was pleading with him. ‘You can read my thoughts and desires so easily every other time, so read them now.’

His thumb trailed down over my chin, and I knew in the next instant it would fall away completely. He would stop touching me, and with each second the distance between us would grow. In fierce resistance, I lifted my hand to grasp his, holding it there in the space between us before he could slip any further. His brow arched slightly, gaze returning to mine in question - searching.

Then he smiled, that soft half-smile that carried a tinge of bittersweet. Bending his fingers around mine he held it against his chest and leaned closer, our foreheads a hair away from bumping.

“You look like you want to say something.” His voice was an intimate whisper, a hungry growl barely restrained in the back of his throat and smoothed into something closer to teasing. Yet again he was holding back, encouraging me to step forward.

Well, fine then. If this was how our song and dance went, I knew exactly what my next step ought to be: One I won’t regret.

I shake my head. No, I don’t want to say anything.

Slipping my hand from his I bring both to the sides of his face, holding him steady as I tiptoe up to press my mouth to his, closing my eyes. I feel him tense briefly, and then ease with a quiet sigh.

The ache in my chest transforms, elevating from pain into a thrilling joy that sings in my heart and fills my lungs with a clear warmth. As if every part of my being is saying: Yes, finally. As if acknowledging that this was the truth I’d been denying, the simple joy I’d deprived myself of.

When I pull back his eyes are still on me, and I can barely read the look on his face. The warmth and relief I see isn’t entirely foreign, but it’s on a level I can’t recall ever witnessing before. It’s almost… dreamy, like maybe he thinks he’s dreaming. But only for an instant until I see clearly that some key restraint has been released, and he is kissing me again. Hard, hungry, my mouth parts for his without hesitation, yielding just as eagerly to the depth of his wanting.

His arm circles around my waist, pulling me up flush against him and his hand cradles the back of my head. My fingers rake back through his hair and hold him fast as his tongue flirts with mine. We savor each breath that passes between us, the radiant warmth that threatens to melt us into one. I have never felt so hungry and so satisfied at the same time, a constant want for more that is constantly answered with his own desire. We take and we give unraveling at our edges and re-weaving together. Whole.

“Sylus…” Panting, my voice is a whine when, at some blurry point, we finally part, lips wet and sweetly aching for more. I understand the word ‘insatiable’ more than I have ever before. In and of itself kissing him is almost overwhelmingly satisfying, I can barely get my thoughts straight beyond wanting to keep kissing him. But the need in me is searing, echoing a chorus: ‘More, more, more.’

[catholicfacade]

are you ever gonna post the whole fic u posted the wip of ? 🥺🥺

hiiii, so im still working on it :(( im a suuuper slow writer unfortunately and im genuinely like +10k words deep into just chapter one and its probably only halfway done !!! real slow burn enjoyers rise !!! i might end up splitting chapter one into two parts because of this, i appreciate everyones patience who's cared about my work thus far !!! i know it's not what you want but i'll post another snippet since it is wip wednesday ! i hope you enjoy it in the meantime🤍 -ego⋆♱✮

WIP

pairing: joost klein x f! OC

content: RPF!!!, yearning, pining, slow burn, miscommunication, angst, anxiety, insecurity, val is so sensitive

word count: 2.4k

authors note: still chapter one except things are not so happy rn and they wont be for a while after this :(( my first wip 🤍

It shouldn’t sting, but it does.

Valentine has tried to brush off the moments of painful self-awareness where it’s clear, at least to her, she doesn’t entirely fit in here. All of these new friends in her life are nice! An unexpected but welcome addition to life in The Netherlands. But sometimes, it is so excruciatingly obvious she is not as welcome in their lives as they are in hers. She tries not to feel guilty about being the introvert in a group full of extraverts, it just always hits her so hard at the worst times.

Some nights the conversations are easily flowing, Stuntje, Appie, Lyon, and Daan telling stories, upon stories, upon stories of crazy things the group has done together. Joost is of course standing a little too close to Val for her liking, she can smell his cologne and his cigarettes, it’s making her light headed in the best way. He’s smiling so brightly at his friends, his arm nearly grazing Val’s every time he doubles over with laughter. And then all of a sudden the conversation switches to Dutch and Val gets thrown off, she can maybe understand half of it, but she feels so lost all of a sudden, like she disappeared. Then she feels guilty about feeling guilty, understanding that she is the only non-Dutchie standing amongst this group of people. Of course they’re all going to speak Dutch together. It wouldn’t be fair to make them speak English.

And yet there’s this unavoidable wave of loneliness that washes over her whenever it happens. It’s isolating to be standing amongst friends who are so deep into a story, laughing together, nodding and smiling at one another, while Valentine is forgotten, sometimes even unintentionally pushed out of the circle, doing her best to sneak away quietly to hide in the bathroom. It’s childish, she thinks, to be on the verge of crying because no one is talking to her. It’s selfish to think she’s invisible. But she feels like an intruder in these peoples lives, suddenly aware of how much she doesn’t understand about them. Maybe will never get to understand about them.

When Valentine goes home early, she feels like she’s just doing what’s best to mitigate this awkward situation. She tries to collect herself in the bathroom, swallowing that empty feeling down as far as it will go and walks back out with a fresh excuse made to end the night early. It’s always work, “I just remembered I have a blouse that needs stitching,” or “April needs me in the store early tomorrow, gotta go sorry.” It was only a matter of time before someone caught on that this was her only way of getting out of things, and it was only a matter of time before they stopped caring to have her around. She just wished it wasn’t Joost who would make it so obvious.

Standing all togther in their private section of the club, Apson is in the middle of telling a story about how he almost got beat up for filming a tik tok in front of some guys store, “I tried to say, ‘it’s for a video, it’s for a video’, but he kept cursing at me in Romanian, man! I put my hands up, right?” He recreates the gesture, “I said ‘I do it for tik tok, you ever heard of tik tok, man?’ And he went berserk!”

Everyone begins losing it over the way Appie starts mimicking the store owner’s yelling. Joost seems like he can hardly breathe he’s laughing so hard! As Valentine stands directly next to Joost, she can’t help but sneak a few looks at him, the way his whole face expresses joy, it lights up instantly, there’s no emotion he could try and hide on that face. She thinks it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. His laugh is so genuinely infectious. The butterflies she feels in her stomach flutter, happy that Apson is the star of the show right now so no one can see her stealing glances at Joost every couple of seconds.

After a minute everyone begins to calm down, including Apson who even managed to make himself laugh super hard. Something in Val’s memory clicks for her as she speaks up, “I guess that’s why you had to get permission from April, huh? Didn’t want her to beat you up?”

“Jesus, Val—” Joost genuinely seems taken aback by her presence, brows lifted and eyes widened as he turns to her, “You’re still here? You’re so quiet—I thought you would’ve left hours ago!” He looks immediately to his friends who laugh in loud validation at Valentine’s expense. Joost laughs the hardest of them all.

Is that really it then? She’s so insignificant to him he hasn’t even realized she’s been standing next to him the entire time? No one even bothers to acknowledge what she said. They just keep laughing as Joost starts telling them another story of his own.

Val feels weak, the cup in her hand suddenly weighing 20 pounds, her knees are wobbling. Alanis is the only one not laughing, she catches Valentines eye and gives her a soft, sympathetic smile, probably having suffered some burns herself at some point, being the only girl in the friend group. Val smiles back, though the feeling of smiling is currently foreign to her, she’s just going through the motions.

Once Alanis looks away, Val slips away from the group quietly, grabbing her bag and her coat, heading out the door as quickly as possible without full on running.

The deep January freezing temperatures hit her like a ton of bricks but maybe it’s what she needs…or deserves. Fucking Joost—she thinks to herself. Valentine starts walking in the direction of her apartment.

Why did she have to feel so drawn to him? They clearly have nothing in common. He clearly doesn’t even think about her. She is this invisible little thing to him. Fuck fuck fuck Joost! Why does she care so much about him? It shouldn’t matter anyway, it was just a joke. She’s being such a sensitive little bitch about everything. And now all of her “friends” are going to think she’s super weird and melodramatic for leaving like that. If they can even be bothered to notice she’s gone that is.

Tears prick her eyes as she tries to blink them away, to no avail, they fall, freezing almost instantly on her face, leaving her so unbearably cold. It happens the entire walk home. Valentine is genuinely freezing half to death by the time she makes it back to her apartment. She sighs deeply once inside, cupping her face in her hands. Her teeth are chattering, her fingertips are frozen, and so are her cheeks, the tears she cried having turned into little flecks of ice.

Her body barely has enough strength to strip herself of her frosty clothing and run herself a bath, but she somehow manages it. Sitting against the edge of the bathtub, running the hot water, Valentine reaches into her discarded bag and takes out her phone. Battery dead. Oh well. It will have to wait until after her bath to be charged. It’s not like she stupidly believes anyone will reach out anyway, she’ll never get her hopes up like that ever again. It ends up forgotten on top of the pile of clothes now adorning the bathroom floor. 

-

“—daarna boekte ik altijd mijn eigen optredens!” [after that I always booked my own gigs] Joost nods while finishing his story, Appie and Stuntje laugh, Daan shakes his head, and Alanis has gone off somewhere.

“Heyyy jongens,” Stuntje calls out suddenly, “Who wants another round~?” He says in a sing-song tone while shaking his empty cup.

“I need one, man.” Daan says.

Appie shakes his head, “Ik ga naar huis. Waar is Alanis?” [I’m going home. Where is Alanis?] Appie walks away toward the bathroom, the other three guys just shrug at each other.

“A drink, Joost?” Stuntje asks, pointing to Joosts cup.

“Nee, man.” Joost shakes his head, swirling around his cup which sits half-full.

Daan and Stuntje head to the bar leaving Joost by himself in their section. A familiar, lingering sweetness in the air makes his lip twitch unconsciously into a smile, only one person enters his mind now that he’s alone. Joost searches for Valentine in her usual places, he wants to have a good sit down with her, watch her eyes light up when he gives her all the attention in the world—completely undivided now, he wants to hear her laugh because he hasn’t heard that sweet noise even once tonight! He wants to casually throw an arm around her and watch her blush, offer her a friendly rub on the arm as he innocently tucks her closer to his chest. But Valentine’s not sitting at the table or on the couch, she’s not standing in her corner or getting a drink at the bar. Joost furrows his brows, she couldn’t be on the dance floor could she? He strains his eyes trying to search the jumping crowd from afar but there’s absolutely no sign of that fiery head of hair anywhere.

Joost stares into the crowd of moving bodies for a while and then looks down at his watch, barely a few minutes past 10pm, where could she be? Out of the corner of his eye he catches Alanis coming back to grab her bag.

“Hey, is Valentine still in the bathroom or something?” Joost asks.

Alanis frowns slightly as she swings her purse over her shoulder, “She went home, Joost. I think your little comment made her feel stupid, she looked upset.”

“What?” Joosts heart nearly stops beating. He’s genuinely confused. “But I was joking…why would she leave?”

Alanis shrugs, “She never says anything, and that was the first time she decided to speak up, and you really embarrassed her for it.”

Joost goes red in the face, blinking rapidly, realizing that he had unintentionally probably fucked up Valentines entire night by humiliating her. And that was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Shit.” He breathes out, a weight crushing his chest.

“You coming?” Appie calls to Alanis from outside of the section, loud music still pumping through the club even though it feels like mere noise to Joost right now.

“Ja!” Alanis yells back, reaching out and giving Joost a squeeze to the arm, “You didn’t mean it and I’m sure she’ll get over it.” She tries to cheer him up but Joost only replies with a weak nod. “Goodnight Joost.”

“Night Alanis.” Joost watches her walk away and he waves one last time to Appie as the two head home.

-

Exhaustion. It hits Valentine so hard. Her eyes feel so heavy it hurts. The hot water still stings her previously frozen flesh, that hurts too. And so does her head. The image of Joosts face haunting her, replaying back his words and his laughter, the shocked look in his eyes when he acknowledged her…it almost looked like he’d never seen her before. Valentine cringes physically, shoulders coming up close to her ears, she hugs her knees to her chest and hides her face as though it’s all happening again. The water splashes around her with her repetitive movements as she rocks back and forth. She just wants the laughing to stop.

And she wants Joost to disappear.

She stays like that until her body can no longer bare still being awake. Her obsessive, circling thoughts have turned her brain to mush. And everything that happens after her bath goes by in a haze. But at least she’s warm.

The last thing Valentine does is fumble in the dark for her phone charger, slipping it into her phone before instantly passing out in her bed. Not a single thought passes through her mind that someone would want to call her tonight. She easily falls asleep feeling forgotten.

-

Stuntje and Daan have gotten into a heated conversation over at the bar, drinks sitting forgotten in front of them as they drunkly converse loudly with the guy sitting next to them. Joost is now completely alone in the section, heat still sitting under his face and heart still beating wearily.

He goes and sits in his usual spot, right next to where Valentine would usually be this time of night. He looks at the empty space next to him and realizes again that he’s been so stupid with his mouth when he hadn’t meant to be. If only Valentine could know that her absence is being noticed, more than that, it’s hurting him. Joost is alone. Friends are not far away, but he feels more alone now than ever. He hurt the girl he’s been admiring for months, she should be here, she should feel like she belongs, that she isn’t going to be embarrassed because she’s different, that she isn’t going to be made fun of by some stupid Dutch guy that’s actually so enamored with her.

It’s a cold night, snowing, she was definitely wearing a skirt…and heels. Joost is sick to his stomach, he pulls out his phone and quickly pulls up Valentines contact, their previous messages flashing in Joosts eyes, filled with brief small-talk, niceties, and nothing more.

22:18

J: Did you leave? :(

J: Sorry if I said something wrong. Really didn’t mean it.

J: Please call me.

J: I just want to know if you got home safe, I’m worried :(

J: I’m really really sorry Valentine.

--delivered--

Joost watches his screen for any sign of Valentine reading his messages, his leg bouncing up and down rapidly, he re-reads his own words over and over again, wondering if it’s too forward—not that he really cares actually—his stomach is twisted with anxiousness and nothing could stop it unless Valentine called him.

Joost hates waiting more than anything so five minutes passing, watching that little delivered icon never change, it feels like a fucking lifetime. He has to step out to smoke and standing there in the heavy snowfall just makes him feel even worse. The cigarette barely eases his mind so he tries to call Val. No answer. There’s not much more he can do, he assumes she really hates him now, and he just wants to know if she’s okay.

Reaching the last long drag of his cigarette confirms his decision, tomorrow if Valentine still hasn’t replied, he will go to April’s store and check on her in person.

[voxofthevoid]

Tis Demon/Hunter Horror Wednesday #13.

Sukuna is back and traumatizing Yuuji with hole (...many holes this time) as usual, but as per yesterday's poll, this week's offering is also goyuu—specifically, Gojou taking a big dick and almost regretting it. The almost is load-bearing.

Eat up 🍨

Satoru bottoms out with a grunt that shudders in his throat like it’s caught on something bigger and meatier than the wet muscles there. When he swallows, he can almost taste it.

Under him, Yuuji’s all tightly shut eyes and clenching fists, and with the way he’s clenching his jaw and panting through his nose, you’d think he’s hurting. But the cock lodged inside Satoru tells a different story, throbbing its heat with a ferocity that seeps into his muscles, into his bones. Satoru can feel it in his goddamn spine, a gnawing ache that’s left him in cold sweat.

He shifts, telling himself it’s to find a better, kinder angle, and his body proves the futility of it by clenching tight inside and out.

Satoru doesn’t make a fucking sound, but Yuuji groans like a gutted thing.

“That’s my line,” Satoru says dazedly.

Yuuji’s eyes flutter open, satisfyingly glassy. “W-what?”

Satoru considers it. It’s rather hard. His thoughts keep scattering, his mind trying to slip down his spine to writhe in his asshole. It should really stop. There’s no space down there. Satoru’s not sure there’s enough space for what he has crammed up in there. It feels like Yuuji’s shaved off some flesh and maybe some bone to make that thing fit, and maybe it’s a good thing that Yuuji’s only other lover is a demon because Satoru can’t imagine your average teenager surviving this dick. Cute little Megumi would get torn in half.

That’s unfair. Satoru’s the one who pinned this boy down and sat on his cock. But at the end of the day, he’s the one with his ass split open; he’s allowed an uncharitable thought or ten. What Yuuji doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

Satoru, meanwhile, is being hurt by something he knows quite well. He knew what he was getting into: He’s seen and held this cock. It’s pulsed against his own length and slid maddeningly over his clenching asshole. He’s had it in his mouth just yesterday, down so deep that his lungs ached with it, and his throat didn’t stop hurting until Satoru healed it when the hot ache of it became more irritating than sweetly filthy.

But it always feels more like this—the heat, the length, the girth.

“—you—Satoru, please—”

Satoru blinks, his vision shifting from a hazy mix of energy lines and solid colors to resolve into the pretty curves of a violently flushed face. Yuuji’s staring up at him almost pleadingly, his eyes gone all big and dark.

“You say something?” Satoru asks.

“Move,” Yuuji chokes out, his fingers fisting the sheets tighter till the knuckles turn white, “please.”

Satoru almost laughs. “You want me cryin’, kid?”

Yuuji’s eyes widen almost comically. “N-no, no, what—”

“Gimme a moment here.” Satoru experimentally shifts his arms without moving an inch elsewhere. It’s a good thing he keeps his nails blunt; he’d have sunk them right into Yuuji’s chest otherwise. “I did just take your monster cock.”

A high-pitched noise rends the air. Yuuji looks like he’d sink right through the mattress and also the floor underneath if Satoru wasn’t keeping him safe and snug inside him.

“I didn’t mean…” Yuuji finally pries a hand off the mattress—and promptly covers his face. “Didn’t mean it like that. Take—take your time?”

“Look at that, you’re a gentleman after all.”

Yuuji whimpers.

A part of Satoru wants to keep teasing him, but every word he says still feels like it’s fighting past the tip of Yuuji’s cock, like it’s stabbed in so deep that it’s cut him open all the way to the throat, and Satoru’s whole spine aches like it’s feeding that dirty illusion. And it’s hot—hotter than the entire rest of Yuuji, even the inside of his mouth, as if this boy runs cold just so his cock can hoard all his heat. Now it’s all pouring into Satoru, scorching him from the inside.

There are worse ways to burn.

Satoru settles his palms over the indents his nails made in Yuuji’s flesh, shifting his weight forward. Sharp pain bolts up his back, and again, Yuuji’s the one who makes a noise, but the tone’s all wrong—delight bordering on delirium. Satoru’s not quite there yet.

But god, sat on a cock like this, he fucking will be.

He breathes out slowly, forcing himself to relax. It mostly works. The tension seeps out of his shoulders, and his thighs feel less like they’re trying to shatter his own bones. His ass is a lost cause, stretched to its limit and then some. All Satoru can feel there is the shape and heat of Yuuji’s cock, but even that’s a nebulous mass of sheer sensation, its edges and ends melting into the clench of his gut and the curve of his spine and the hollow of his throat.

Yuuji’s still covering his face, fingers flexed like they’re poised to tear off whole chunks of flesh.

“Look at me, Yuuji,” Satoru orders softly. “I want you to watch this part.”

Yuuji makes a noise like Satoru’s hurting him, but his hand moves up, gripping his hair instead of his whole face, and with his forehead bared like this, Yuuji looks older and sharper—or maybe that’s the expression on his face, that hot-eyed hunger.

Satoru very slightly shifts his hips. His insides ripple in a molten rush.

“Satoru,” Yuuji gasps like a plea.

And Satoru’s body answers of its own volition, repeating that minute movement, and it’s no less vicious, the way his muscles flinch and flex around that claiming cock, but it’s not all pain, if it ever was. It’s fullness, first and foremost, his flesh sleeved on a burning bit of this boy’s body, but there’s pleasure too, throbbing with the ceaseless pressure against his prostate and even the more piercing sensations further in, where Yuuji’s reached so deep that the touch alone feels violating.

There’s just something about it—a perverse thrill in being touched where he shouldn’t be, like there are blistering fingers prying open his flesh to grope him gut-deep.

It’s also what’s keeping him here, breathless and trembling. He can move through pain, but pleasure’s a different beast.

But Satoru will mount that too.

He slides his hand from Yuuji’s chest to his shoulders, gripping tight. The muscles there tense under his palms, but their solid heat is pleasant to cling to, like the reluctant give of flesh is a sign that this body can take him well.

Satoru promptly tests it out, rocking his hips with real intent.

Excruciating pleasure bolts up his spine, and Satoru does it again before his body can grow shy, gasping sharply as the sensation doubles and triples in intensity, every lash of pain-pleasure chasing after the one before it, colliding into a scorching mass somewhere at the base of his spine, and it spreads and spreads, heating his guts and his lungs and his bones, and the source of the heat throbs inside his ass, no less devastating despite Satoru’s insides trying so hard to accommodate its size.

Below, Yuuji’s stiff all over, muscles pulled taut. He could be a marble statue if not for the warm flush gleaming under a fine sheen of sweat.

“It feels very good, doesn’t it,” Satoru says, not quite a question.

Yuuji just lets out a thin, whistling breath, a word trapped somewhere in it.

“Nothing you don’t know,” Satoru infers, admittedly unconnected to anything Yuuji’s said or done—he just remembers those claw marks, bloody and vicious. “That means I should make this memorable, hm? I do hate coming in second.”

Yuuji shakes his head, just a single frantic motion.

“Oh?” Satoru breathes, bearing down with his whole body, and there’s nothing left for him to take, his ass flush with Yuuji’s groin, but the cock impaling him still digs into whole new swathes of flesh.

Yuuji moans softly, and his lips quiver around words that make no sound. Then—

“Y-you’re not. Already, it’s—you’re always—shit, Satoru—”

Satoru smiles, unclutching one of Yuuji’s shoulders to pat his cute face. “You’re such a sweet boy.”

Yuuji��s hips buck, bouncing Satoru on his cock, and it’s a weak motion, between Yuuji’s legs being flat on the mattress and Satoru’s weight pinning him at the pelvis, but weak from someone like Yuuji is still enough to make Satoru shudder and clench, caught in a motion that’s less about movement than shifting, searing pressure, his rim screaming around the girth spreading it and his sore insides rippling around a cock that manages to find new ways to abuse what it’s already claimed.

His own cock throbs in answer, jutting out in front of him the way it has this whole time, forcing Satoru into honesty even as he writhed and grunted his way down Yuuji’s cock.

“Don’t make me take it back,” Satoru warns breathlessly, putting more weight on Yuuji’s shoulder like that’ll still the rest of him. “Stay.”

“Trying,” Yuuji gasps. “You’re just so—”

Yuuji doesn’t finish that, but Satoru’s willing to forgive him as long as he keeps looking at Satoru with those dark, burning eyes, and he’s only too willing to give Yuuji more and more reasons to keep looking, clutching him close and pinning him down and moving until they’re both plunged into an exquisite hell.

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags earlier this week @loki-is-my-kink-awakening and @kcscribbler (excited to read your latest piece).

Sharing a snippet from Chapter 5 of Dividing Lines, co-authored by the incredible @lgwilt. More silliness as Verity trains Loki to do data analysis. (As they say in Severance, the work is mysterious and important; no they don’t know what they do).

“You see those letters in the bottom left corner?” Verity’s voice drifted above the partition. “Focus on that group. How do the letters make you feel?”

“Is ‘bored’ a permissible response?”

Mobius barely withheld a smirk at the sarcasm dripping from Loki’s voice, as much as he knew he shouldn’t laugh. It was only a matter of time before Verity lost her patience. She’d been training Loki for an hour. Today was the day they introduced Category Five files.

“No,” Verity replied, her voice strained. “Try harder.”

Loki let out a dramatic sigh. “Enervated? Depressed? Exhausted by the mind-numbing tedium and existentially absurd pointlessness of the so-called ‘routine data analysis’ I’m required to complete?”

Verity lowered the height of the adjustable divider to glare pointedly at Mobius. “Now would be a great time for you to exercise those team leadership skills.”

Very behind today but no-pressure tagging those who tagged me back + a few others to share whatever they’re working on whenever it makes sense for you: @blackbirdofasgard @queen-of-meows @wolfpup026 @andthekitchensinkao3 @thosegayoldmen @devilbearingtrouble @impulsemuppet

[raventrigonsdaughter]

Hmmmm thinking about Agathario wenclair crossover fic happening after wednesday season 1 and canon divergence with the ending of aaa... i have many thoughs

[allmyey3s]

Wip Wednesday

Well it's been a while since I posted any writing here, huh? I've been dragging on this side chapter thing I'm working on since January. It's already over 4k words and they haven't even really started yet 😭

But after way too long our favorite monster boy is back! Well, not really. But you'll just have to figure it out on your own hehe :)

Anyways this chapter is gonna be extremely fucked up so this is your warning!

Have a little sneak peak as a treat (because you won't hear from me again until October)

"You know pretty girls shouldn't go in the woods all by themselves," the monster purred tauntingly. They suddenly yanked him lower so his now once again hard dick is level with their mouth. Swiss grunts and shakes his head in order to clear his swimming vision. "I'm not a girl," he hisses, baring his teeth when his eyes finally focus on the beast again.

The monster is staring up at him, that content smirk still on their face. "Oh really? And what makes you think that?" they asked in a sarcastic, almost mocking tone, raising an eyebrow.

Swiss scoffs and twists violently in his bindings a few times. "I don't know, maybe the lack of tits and feminine behavior? What makes you think I am one?" he spits and snaps his teeth at them with the last sentence.

The beast laughs loudly with a full chest. Their eyes glint with mischief, but something darker could be seen beneath it. They run their tongue over their fangs bared in a smirk before speaking. "Well, that can be fixed, can't it?"

Before Swiss can question what they mean or come up with something snarky to bite back with, a slightly unpleasant tingling sensation shoots up his thighs and further into his body. His eyes widen with confusion as he looks down only to find a green glow emanating from the creature's hands, where they're wrapped around his thighs. He doesn't really have time to focus on the glow though, because next thing he knows his raging boner disappears.

He doesn't go soft, no, it just vanishes. His entire dick disappears into thin air, well, a trail of quickly dissipating green sparkles. His balls follow suit, and just for a moment his crotch is nothing but a flap of taut skin.

That moment doesn't last very long though. Just before he can really take a good look at the smooth bump that remained, the skin splits into two. Swiss gasps loudly, twitching away yet unable to tear his eyes away from the sight. He doesn't feel any pain, it's all just weirdly numb and tingly, but it's not like he can really pay attention to the sensation while he grows a full vagina before his very own eyes.

He snaps his head back up to look at the beast with a mix of bewilderment, disgust, and borderline panic. "What the actual fuck?" he chokes out, and to his surprise, it comes out high-pitched. His voice sounds higher than it did just a minute ago, not squeaky, but high and girly.

This new discovery only serves to fuel his shock and confusion, and the beast seems to have taken note of the additional reaction. They once again laugh with a full chest, the cackles dripping with amusement and satisfaction, as if they're receiving just what they've been craving for months.

Much to Swiss' dismay however, his transformation is not yet finished. When he finally forces himself to look down again he finds another pair of surprises on his chest.

He's grown tits.

They're not small either, his estimate would be a solid C cup and growing.

His eyes dart from his crotch to his chest repeatedly, brows furrowing and face distorting with disgust. Only then does he register the discomfort in his hips. It's a faint, dull ache, settled deep in his bones. He's felt it before, it's similar to.... growing pains?

His eyes narrow as he focuses his attention to one of his hip bones, and not so unexpectedly, he figures it's moved. His hips have visibly grown, widened and stretched to a typical, perhaps slightly more shapely woman's build.

"What the fuck..." he whispers again, voice breaking a little on the curse, as he slowly raises his head back up to hesitantly meet the beast's gaze. He recoils at the sound of his own voice, all feminine and wrong.

The monster laughs again in return, then leans down and forward slightly, invading the ghoul's personal space. "Well, I think we've taken care of 'lack of tits'," they purr smugly, tone dripping with satisfaction. "What else did you say? Feminine behavior?"

Once again, before Swiss can snark something back, he's being moved, the vines around him shifting and creaking slightly. He's suddenly hanging with his belly exposed to the ground. The position is more uncomfortable than moments ago, the vines digging into his sore hips and his equally tingling stomach.

A clawed hand sneaks into his hair, grips it tightly and forcibly tilts his head down in order to look into the water of the nearby lake - since when is there a lake in this part of the forest?

"I can teach you how to be a good girl, alright."

He stares off into the depths, eyes squinting as he tries to make out whatever the creature wants him to see in the pool of turquoise. "I don't-" he mumbles, then cuts himself off with a gasp upon finally seeing it.

Staring back up at him from the pristine lake surface is his own reflection. Except it looks virtually nothing like him.

With horror he realizes he's wearing the body of a fully developed female. Shoulders narrower than before, two massive tits on his chest, slimmer waist, wide birthing hips and large thighs. His skin is all smooth and soft, only emphasizing the rough texture of the vines holding him captive.

His wide eyes finally travel up to his face and his bewildered expression. He quickly takes notice of his newly moulded face. His mustache and stubble have disappeared, giving way to soft, supple skin. His lips are slightly more puffy and pink-toned than usual, his nose smaller, his face overall more soft and feminine.

Everything is in extremes, there is no subtleness. He looks like a hyper-feminine curvy girl. Once again, as if it's the only thing he can muster up to say, "What the fuck."

Once again, for the hundredth time, the beast gives a booming laugh in reaction. "Like what you see I presume?" they question while making a show of snaking their hands up the ghoul's body. They look so large splayed over his stomach, up on his ribcage, until both wrap around each of his newly grown tits. They grope and knead, causing Swiss to squirm in an attempt to get away from the strange new sensation. They suddenly pinch and pull hard on the nipples, making him flinch and hiss. "Ow- hey!"

The sound of liquid splashing onto the unmoving surface of the lake makes his tightly shut eyes open. At first, he sees nothing, until a faint opaque fleck in the water catches his eye. The beast repeats the action, and with his very own eyes, he can see pearly white droplets drip from his nipples, splashing down into the water.

"Woah- hey! What the-"

"What the fuck," the creature mocks him and tweaks one of his nipples again. "If that's all your pretty little mouth can say I'll put it to a better use."

"Do not dare make me deepthroat a vine again!" Swiss bites, making sure to let all of his frustration bleed into his tone.

The creature hesitates for just a second, and he swears a speck of confusion washes through its expression. But it's gone just as quickly, and just to be more petty, they do exactly that.

"Thank you for the idea, little girl," they purr as they flick their wrist, causing a vine snaking up the ghoul's sternum to plummet straight into his mouth, right past his lips, teeth and tongue.

Swiss feels tears well up in his eyes.

[krembruleed]

[beri-allen]

wip rec: wyler edition - part 1

so, i was going through my bookmark on ao3, and i realized that some of the fics are wips that haven't been updated for a long time. that's why i'm making this list of wip fics that i love and haven't been updated for a long time: wyler edition!

disclaimer: while i do hope that they're not abandoned, i understand if the authors don't feel like continuing their fics or if they don't have time to do so. i didn't make this list to force anyone to write. i just want to share a few stories that i love and hope that other readers will appreciate them as much as i do <3

without further ado:

my unconquerable soul by melpomenemuse summary: an insight into wednesday and tyler’s relationship through the season finale and post season 1. my commentary: probably one of the earliest wyler fics that i read? back when there were only 2-3 pages of fics under the tag lol.

euphoric in some stranger delight by dandybear summary: 30-year-old wednesday and tyler preparing their upcoming nuptial + flashbacks of their relationship throughout the years. my commentary: i LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE this future fic so much; i can never shut up about it. bi4bi wyler and wednesday/bianca enthusiasts should read this.

a girl and her monster of woe by cryinlikecassandra summary: post-s1 wednesday learning how to become hyde's master. tags include: domme wednesday addams. my commentary: enid/bianca enthusiasts should read this.

grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt series (kudzu, draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man, the way i wear my noose (like a necklace)) by pansexual_intellectual summary: the series started with pre-s1 tyler, then continued with post-s1 wednesday in the addams manor and tyler's trial. my commentary: another one of my ultimate faves. all 3 parts are finished, but there's no follow-up yet. kudzu (and cat eye) can be very triggering to some. please be advised and read the tags wisely.

haunted heart by mistresswinter summary: another future fic. started with wyler's wedding, followed by a flashback to their tumultuous relationship. my commentary: so clearly, i have a weakness for future and/or domestic wyler fics lol. i don't usually like fics with oc but the author's writing is very engaging, i don't mind the oc in this fic at all.

PART 1 | PART 2

[chairwritexv]

ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ | ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ ɢᴜɪᴅʟɪɴᴇs | ᴡʜᴏ ɪ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ғᴏʀ | ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

☏﹏﹏﹏[ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ sᴛᴀᴛᴜs

❥ ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛs :: 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 ❥ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴs :: 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 ❥ ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇs/ʙʟᴜʀʙs :: 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 ❥ ᴍᴀᴛᴄʜᴜᴘs :: 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍

[patchworkgargoyle]

wip wednesday ♠

Tagged by @cuoredimuschio, thanks friend!!

This will be... almost entirely OC wips (with two that feature at least one of the Corroded Coffin boys from Stranger Things), sorry folks. But also not sorry. The OC brainrot is strong.

rules: send me the name of one of the wips below, and i'll write and post three new sentences for you! (I encourage anyone to send multiple if they want!)

the wips:

samdom: mic check (pom!verse)

freakdom: the boy whose bass is big and bold (pom!verse)

samdom: dinner n a show (pom!verse)

Songwriting (pom!verse)

rory x river: river rock (fey!au)

non-obligatory tags: @steves-strapcollection @tboybuck (solely just in case you want to see some snippets) and @nullshocked (idk if you do tag games though so feel free to ignore!!) If anyone else wants to join, please do!! You can say I tagged you!

the snippet: mic check

(Note: Tig and Sam belong to Ger!!)

A large hand grabbed him by the shoulder. Tig tucked Dom into his side so he could bend to shout into Dom's ear. “Come on, you flirt,” he teased over the noise.

“Jealous?” Dom shot back, smirking up at Tig and letting him pull them away. Tig laughed fondly. He wasn't jealous. Dom really fucking wished he was.

The roar of the crowd faded, replaced by the buzz of the crew getting ready to pack up their gear. He and Tig handed off their instruments to the roadies waiting for them, and after that Dom was more than content to let Tig guide him back to the green room to decompress, though his energy was still at its peak. He wanted to bounce around, be a nuisance, burn it off in a flash fire.

Dom spotted a familiar figure about to pass them. Sam had that smear of black under his chin still, now smudged a bit down his throat. Dom wanted to bite it and learn what Sam sounded like when he felt the points of his teeth in his skin.

Tilting his own chin up, Dom gestured at it and purred, “Got a little something, darling.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, a small upward tick to his lips. “I know,” was all he said.

They held each other's gaze as they passed. Dom swore there was a palpable tension pulling him in.

“I could help you get it off.”

Sam's gaze was heavy, unhurried, as he looked Dom up and down, and it was driving Dom insane. He slowed down, forcing Tig to match his pace, but Sam didn't stop.

“I bet you could,” he said, a little extra something in his voice.

But then he turned onto the stage and out of sight. Dom wanted to scream, but just gave a heavy, frustrated huff.

“Struck out once again,” Tig said, laughing, and Dom elbowed him in the ribs for it, making him grunt.

[h-i-raeth]

Hello I forgot how to be human for a while but I am back to microdose a Shadow of Dust please :)

(WIP Wednesday) (a week late but here you are. feel free to ask for one for this week as well)

Even after they clear off to give her some space to eat, she doesn’t talk. Doesn’t murmur assurances or debate the situation with her daemon, who stays wrapped around her neck and whose name Miriam still doesn’t know, for all that Benny got the girl to identify herself as “Eleven.”

[auburnlaughter]

Hi! Please work on The White Tayra Stellaka Aiylla for WIP Wednesday.

This is one I definitely need kicking to work on lately so thank you!

WIP Wednesday The White Tayra (original story)

"Yes, ma'am. Anything I can do here?"

"For starters, you can stop calling me ma'am," Olivia said, laughing as Knapp flushed slightly. "This is a pretty informal engine room and most everyone else calls me Olivia. You can stick with Castillo Rodriguez if first name feels too weird and I'll also answer to CR or even "engine boss lady" which, yes, that has happened."

More than once in fact, but then that was Gabe for you.

[catholicfacade]

WIP PREVIEW

pairing: joost klein x f! reader, joost klein x f! OC

word count: 3,572

synopsis: Joost Klein accidentally meets the love of his life through a tik tok. Valentine. She’s his complete opposite; quiet, reserved, and a bit cold, whereas Joost is bright, bubbly, and extremely outgoing, almost obnoxiously so. But opposites attract and the art of balance is delicate. Getting to know each other without interference proves difficult at first, but the minute Joost and Valentine realize their pining is mutual it’s full speed ahead for the two of them. Like puzzle pieces, they become inseparable, fitted together like it’s always meant to be. Everyone around them is convinced no two people in the world love each other as much as Joost and Valentine do. But Joost’s growing fame sends him down an unexpected spiral, one Valentine is desperate to pull him out of. It changes everything. The two who were once attached at the hip learn to no longer even speak each others names, desperately still in love, but the damage is unbearable. If only the puzzle pieces can come together again to realize just how perfect they are for each other.

authors note: tagging this as both x reader and x OC because this is written in 3rd person POV, i find writing 2nd person difficult for me because i just tend to write “reader” as self-insert, and i know i am a VERY specific type of person 😅 soooooo lowkey self-ship??? but i think it’s best to just make reader an OC and you can simply swap out her name, pronouns, and traits for your own when it’s necessary. and so i would say Valentine [who i named after my own last name, this is just the name i use for ALL my protagonists in my writing actually😅], she’s implied to be autistic/neurodivergent and generally just socially awkward, quiet, introverted. again, self-insert. she is also goth. i always write protagonists with really heavy, angsty, traumatic backstories so i think that’s also why i turn readers into OC’s because i don’t want to force a traumatic past upon you as reader 😭 there is also “April”, who is a second OC i made for this series, she is Valentines best friend who owns her own alternative clothing company and is very important to the story along the way:))

content: RPF, awkwardness, slow burn, pining, yearning, hint of angst, mention alcohol consumption, masturbation, kissing, fantasizing

!!18+ & RPF, DO NOT REPOST OR INTERACT IF RPF MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!!

how it started:

At 12pm on the dot, two people walk in, Valentine greets them smiling, “Hallo! Hoe gaat het?” [Hello! How are you?] Her Dutch is limited but she tries her best.

“Hallo, is April hier?” [Hello, is April here?] The girl with dark curly hair asks as she approaches, she’s followed by what Valentine assumes to be her boyfriend.

“Nee, maar kan ik jullie helpen?” [No, but can I help you?] Val offers them a gentle smile, unsure if her Dutch is even grammatically correct or not.

“Oh-“ The girls eyebrows shoot up, “You’re Valentine, right?” She suddenly switches to English, Valentine is simultaneously embarrassed but also thankful for the switch.

A blush rises on her cheeks as she nods, “Yeah that’s me, sorry about my Dutch.” She waves her hand apologetically.

“I’m Alanis, and this is Apson.” Alanis smiles and holds her hand out and so does Apson. Val shakes their hands, “Nice to meet you guys, you wanted to film in the store right?”

“Ja, just a little skit about being emo. I wanna seem like a guy who is a total poser and then run out of the store crying when I get called out.” Apson said, maybe blushing a little from having to explain his stupid bit.

It made Valentine chuckle though, “Do whatever you gotta do, man! April told me you have permission from her already so you’re good to do your thing.”

“Thanks,” Apson and Alanis said in unison, which made them giggle at each other.

“Can I borrow some clothes?” Apson said looking around.

“Sure,” Val nodded, “Let me open the changing room for you.” She grabbed the keys and unlocked the changing room at the back of the store as Appie and Alanis brainstormed what the character should be wearing. They ended up picking out a stereotypical e-boy outfit, a black and white striped long-sleeve shirt, a Metallica t-shirt to go on top, some fingerless skeleton gloves, baggy Tripp pants, and a studded belt.

Appie went into the changing room a few minutes later to get ready, leaving Valentine and Alanis outside together.

“How long have you worked here? It feels weird we haven’t seen you around yet, we’re in here all the time it feels like.” Alanis asked, tilting her head slightly to examine Valentine.

“Not long, only a month now. I think we must’ve just narrowly avoided each other this whole time.” Valentine chuckles and Alanis nods in agreement.

“How long have you known April then?” Valentine asks Alanis.

“I got one piece of jewelry here like a year ago,” Alanis shows Val her gemstone necklace, “And now I get all my jewelry from here, look!” Alanis smiles, showing a few silver rings on her fingers and a beaded bracelet.

“Oh, is that moonstone?” Valentine asks excitedly.

“Yeah! Isn’t it so pretty?” Alanis moves the beads around so they flash their colors brightly in Valentines eyes.

“I love it, and it goes perfectly with your outfit!” She said and Alanis thanks her, “My favorite gemstone is—“

“Done!” Apson calls out suddenly, making both of the girls turn, he looks a bit ridiculous, but that’s the point. The pants are definitely a size too big and the belt definitely isn’t helping because they are practically hanging off of his body.

“Let me put some eyeshadow on you.” Alanis mumbles as she approaches Appie, she looks through her bag until she finds the small compact, taking it out to apply the black shadow loosely around Apson’s eyes. He ends up just looking more tired than emo, but again, it must be what works for the skit.

Val just watches from afar with an amused smile on her face, she likes them, Appie and Alanis, they seem like good people. There’s some footsteps behind her and she turns to see a few customers coming in, “Goedendag!” [Good day!] She greets them, they say it back before looking around at some of the shelves at the front of the store. Valentine returns to her earlier work, stitching by hand some stars onto the corner of a skirt.

“Okay, like this—“ Appie talks Alanis through the scene first, he’s speaking Dutch again so Val can’t pick up most of what he’s saying, he’s just gesturing for how and where Alanis should hold the camera when they go to film. He’s quietly rehearsing the lines with her when he perks up a bit, “Wait���Valentine?”

Val looks over at Appie, “Do you mind saying a line for the tik tok? Just the one about me being a poser?”

She grows a bit nervous, “Oh uhhh…I’m probably not very good at acting… I don’t really post on tik tok like that…” She rubs the back of her neck and looks between Apson and Alanis awkwardly.

“Don’t worry, you just gotta go like ‘ew, fucking poser’ and that’s it!” Apson gives the line a little scoff and a little attitude to it. He grins at her, clearly enthused with his new idea.

“Okay…” Val agrees weakly, coming around the counter to stand by Alanis’ side.

“Okay so like this,” Apson says, rerunning through his lines once more while Alanis practices getting the best angles for the tik tok, “And then camera turns, and you say…?”

Alanis turns the camera on Valentine, who scoffs while looking at Appie, “Such a fucking poser…” She says with all the vitriol she can muster.

“Perfect!” Appie shoots her two thumbs up as Alanis turns the camera back on him, “Then, I’ll begin to cry like this, wahhhh!” Appie cries exaggeratedly, then turns and takes a few steps towards the door. “Then I’ll run outside and that’s it, got it?”

“Got it.” Val and Alanis both say.

The three of them get into position, Appie with his back to the door, standing amongst all the clothes, Alanis starting the recording on her phone, and Valentine just off to side, waiting to deliver her line.

“Aaaaaand action!” Apson claps loudly. Alanis zooms in quickly to Appies face, he’s slouching, neck bent at an awkward angle to seem more depressed, the face he’s making makes him look dead inside, it’s exaggerated by the deep black makeup Alanis brushed around his eyes.

“Ik ben zooooo emo….” [I am soooo emo] Apson delivered the line as flatly as he could, adding a bit of a vocal fry to the ‘zoooo’. Alanis snaps the camera back to show his full outfit before zooming in on his face again for the next line, “Ik ben zoooooo depressief…” [I am sooo depressed]

Valentine held back her laughter, perhaps it wasn’t exactly her type of humor, but it was fun to watch!

Apson gave a big eyeroll to the camera, then looked into it, “Niemand zal mij ooit begrijpen…” [No one will ever understand me]

He suddenly grunts loudly, his expression growing more angry, “Ik zit de hele dag op mijn kamer naar muziek te luisteren, niemand begrijpt het!” [I sit in my room and listen to music all day, no one understands!] He yells.

The camera whips around to Valentine, she puts a disgusted look on her face and scoffs like she did the first time, “Such a fucking poser.” She shakes her head lightly.

Alanis whips the camera back around to Apson, he looks like he’s about to scream, “NEEEE!” He bursts into faux tears, and suddenly he turns to run out of the store. Alanis follows, and they pass the customers Valentine had completely forgotten were even in here! They seem completely and utterly confused and Val feels a little bad for them.

As Appie and Alanis cross the threshold onto the street, still filming, Appie still making wailing noises, he trips on his baggy pants and falls. Valentine gasps, Alanis keeps filming, and someone nearly hits Apson on the ground with their bike.

“Ik ben geen poser!” [I am not a poser!] Apson yells his final line, sobbing crying, clutching his elbow, and Alanis stops recording. She helps him up, they’re laughing as they walk back inside but it seems Appie actually got hurt.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Valentine comes up to them, slightly stunned but also laughing.

“I’m okay,” Appie nods, then turns to the people at the front of the store who are just frozen in shock, “I’m okay!” He waves at them, and they slowly return to what they were looking at in abject horror.

“You’re bleeding a little,” Val frowns when she sees Apsons elbow, “Here, I’ve got a bandaid in my purse.” She moves over to the counter again, opening her bag and pulling out a bandaid for him.

Alanis takes it from her and opens it, “Thanks Valentine.” Appie says warmly.

“You’re welcome.” She smiles.

“I think I should pay for the shirt,” He says while wincing as Alanis applies the bandage to his broken skin, “Pretty sure I got blood on it.”

“Probably a good idea,” Valentine agrees, “April said you could film in the store, not bleed all over her products.”

“Want anything while we’re here, babe?” Apson asks Alanis, who brightens up immediately at the idea of getting herself a little something. “I’ll go get changed while you pick something out.” He says and walks into the changing room to get back into his clothes.

“Can I see your rings, please?” Alanis asks Valentine brightly.

“Of course!” She unlocks the jewelry case behind the counter and pulls out the rack of rings for Alanis to inspect. She picks up one and tries it on, examining her hand afterwards.

“So when will that video get posted?” Val asks.

“I think Appie will post it on Friday.” She studies the ring on her finger before putting it back and picking up another one. “We should be mutuals!”

“I’d like that,” Valentine grins at Alanis and pulls out her phone, opening tik tok and handing her phone to her. Alanis lets her follow both her and Apsons accounts, Val asks to be mutuals on instagram too.

“There!” Alanis says while handing Val’s phone back to her, “You can message me whenever you want to.”

how it’s going:

The sun shines bright outside of Joosts window, he stirs back and forth for a few minutes before finally opening his eyes. The first thing he sees is his Stitch plushie sitting on the other side of the bed, staring at him. He reaches out and grabs it, bringing it to his chest and squeezes it in a bear hug.

“Goedenmorgen.” Joost grumbles while stretching, his head hurts slightly from a long night of drinking but mostly from the way the sun won’t leave his face.

He rolls over onto his back, picking up Stitch again, he stares at the plush toy for a while with his tired eyes, wondering if he’s weird for talking to it or cuddling with it every night. Wondering if that even matters at all. Wondering if it secretly means something about how lonely he is.

But Joost would do anything not to think about that subject, so he tosses Stitch aside and grabs his phone from the nightstand. It’s already passed 2pm and he’s missed at least 15 text messages between his friends.

Stuntje: “You coming out tonight again?” Stuntje: “Bro? U good?”

Tantu: “Beat coming along nicely👍” *1 image attatched*

Apson: “Made a banger post on tik tok! 😂” Apson: “Please leave me a like boys, I bled for this one! 💀” -tap to see more notifications-

Joost sighs through his nose, opening the tik tok app, his therapist has been trying to get him to stay off tik tok first thing in morning but he can’t help it, especially not when his best friend just posted. It’s also not technically morning anymore.

He watches the funny dog video that pops up on his FYP first, liking it and scrolling to the next video. It’s some level 99 brain-rot meme about skibbity rizz in Ohio, he chuckles and leaves a like before scrolling. The next video is an ad and he instantly scrolls. Apsons video finally pops up:

@ apsonarmy posted 1hr. tagged: @ v4lent1ne @ aprilsclosetNL

emos be like 😂💔💀🤘 #emo #poser 10k likes

202 comments

1k shares

There’s big text on the top of the screen that says “EMOS BE LIKE 🧛”, and there’s Apson, fully looking like an e-boy, pretending to be moody and mysterious.

“Ik ben zooooo emo….”

Joost smiles, immediately liking the post. He watches his friend act on screen as the video plays, chuckling as his friends line delivery keeps getting more and more over-the-top with each sentence. And then the camera pans and he sees this girl on screen, she’s wearing tight, leather, flared pants, a grommet belt with a silver star belt buckle, a cute little cropped graphic tee that shows off her midriff, and some silver chains hanging around her neck.

“Such a fucking poser.” She sneers, her voice ablaze with attitude.

Joosts eyebrows shoot up, she has the most beautifully sharp eyes he’s ever seen, and this head full of thick, fiery hair, glossy lips, and gorgeous makeup. She was undeniable, whoever she was. The type of beauty that would end up in every magazines “Top 100 Most Beautiful Women Of All Time” list—No, Top 50, maybe even Top 10. And yet as soon as she was on screen, she was off. The camera points back at Apson’s dramatic reaction. Joost watches as the chaos unfolds when Apson begins running, trips, falls, nearly gets hit by a bike, screams “no” while lying on the streets of Amsterdam, and clutches his bleeding arm.

The video loops…and Joost watches it again. And again. And again. He’s actually not sure how many times he lets it play before the low battery notification snaps him out of his daze. He quickly taps it away, using his thumb to scroll back to the part where the girl calls Appie a poser. He pauses the video when her face is fully in frame and clears the tik tok display. She was breathtaking—literally, Joost was unintentionally holding his breath. He sat there enamored for a while, then brought the display back, checking the “tagged” portion of the caption to see her there, @ v4lent1ne.

Joost clicks on her profile so fast, just to be severely let down when he sees she only has one video available on her profile. He reads her bio;

“Valentine, 27, Designer, Amsterdam.”

221 32 101 Following Followers Likes

Followed by a link to the April’s Closet website. She hadn’t bothered to link her instagram to her tik tok. He clicks on the video, it’s just a cute little tik tok of her lip syncing to Korn in a nice outfit and beautiful trad-goth makeup, the date says it’s almost a year old. She doesn’t seem to have as much of that spark within her as she did in Appies video, maybe it’s because she was just acting for that, but she looked thinner in this old tik tok, maybe more tired somehow. He scrolled away once it looped.

“Valentine…” Joost sighed out loud, letting the name roll off his tongue while admiring her in her tiny profile picture. He went back to Appie’s video and opened up the comments, typing out “I agree, bros not emo, bros a POSER 🤣😂👍🔥” He immediately liked his own comment upon sending it.

Joost realized it was suddenly stiflingly hot under his blanket and that damn sun was still shining brightly on his face. He tossed the blanket off of him, letting the cool air of his room hit his skin, he looked down and saw he was half hard. “Shit…” Joost groaned.

He hopped out of bed and headed into the bathroom, he caught his own gaze in the mirror, messy bedhead, stubble growing in, dirty blonde roots showing through his bleached hair. A mess. But nothing a good shave and shower couldn’t fix.

Joost turned the faucet on in the shower, letting the water run for a minute while stepping out of yesterday’s boxers. His cock sprung free, hanging somewhere between half limp and nearly hard. His pink tip was blushing at him, begging him to give it a little attention. It’s been a week since he last jerked off anyway, might as well take care of it, Joost thought as stepped under the warm water.

He let the water run down his body, rinsing away yesterday’s sweat from the bar, yesterday’s arguments with festival bookings, yesterday’s dull thoughts that kept him numb and unhappy. All that mattered right now was his pretty dick perking up under the warmth of the water and what he was going to do with it.

Joost ran his fingers through his pubic hair, scratching lighting at the forest of hair there, slowly moving down to squeeze it at the base. He had no intentions of teasing himself today, but he couldn’t think of anything worth fantasizing about just yet. Perhaps a familiar pair of lips came to mind but he quickly stubbed out that thought. Too fresh. It was one video. He shouldn’t.

But as Joost slowly pumped his fist around his length, his mind kept wandering back to those same features, he couldn’t help but picture her—Valentine, apparently—gazing at him, watching him jerk off. Her eyes squinted at him, watching him jerk his cock faster now at the thought of her, she’d sneer at him the same way she did in Appie’s video.

“What a loser…jerking off to some random girl you just found on the internet? Pathetic.” He pictured her saying.

Joost wondered what her skin would feel like, what her skin would smell like—he stopped touching himself and pumped some body wash into his hand and lathered it on his cock, careful not to get any inside. The smell was obviously familiar to him, masculine and clean and filled the steam around him with its scent. It would do for now. He could picture Valentine smelling like this as he closed his eyes. He pictured himself standing in front of her, nude, while she was in that same outfit from Appie’s tik tok. He approached her, towering over her, though he couldn’t possibly know how tall she is, he looked down at her and her eyes flicked to his lips.

It’s barely even a lewd fantasy but Joost is stroking himself so fucking fast to it, the soap forming slippery suds under his hand with every long pump he takes. He wants to lean in and kiss her neck, right against her pulse, fuck—he can feel his own pulse in his cock right now. Valentine’s would match his. He cups her jaw and sticks his thumb in her mouth, she gladly suckles on it, it makes him moan out loud, “Fuuuck-“

Valentine sinks, slowly, so slowly, to her knees and looks into Joosts eyes. Joost is massaging the head of his dick now, he’s so close to cumming, just needs a little more. In his mind she takes him into her soft hand, enjoying the weight and warmth of him in her palm. And finally, she leans in to capture his tip between her gorgeous lips. Those fucking lips. With that, Joost is moaning and stroking himself so fast he is coming undone. His white ropes hit the bottom of the shower and get slowly washed away into the drain. He fucks into his fist, mind erratically imagining Valentine in a number of situations as Joost cums. Rapid flashing of doggy style, cowgirl, her tits covered in his cum, she’s just as breathless and red in the face as he is!

He uses his other hand to prop himself up against the wall, panting as the last beads of cum roll down his reddened tip. Breathlessly, Joost returns to reality, he drops his cock from his hand and lets the water beat against body. He’s less tense that’s for sure, but there’s a weird sense of guilt about it, Joost promises himself to never fantasize about her again. And he doesn’t. At least not while jerking off.

The first few days after Appie posted the tik tok, Joost would sometimes go back and watch it, but after a week, he became too busy. He forced Valentine out of his head. The weird, unfinished picture of her he created would still materialize from time to time, but she altogether slipped from his mind as the weeks and even months had gone by.

how its going to go:

“Fuck,” Joost pants looking down at V, her lips are swollen and wet with their combined spit as Joost had all but swallowed her whole, the flavor of her grape lip gloss coating his tongue. Joost’s cock twitches in his boxers, “You know, the first time I saw you in Appie’s video you gave me a boner?”

Val lets out a strained laugh from her breathlessness, “Really?” Her fingers reach up to trace his mustache, the pads of her fingers barely grazing the skin of his lips. It feels like the touch of an angel.

“Ja.” Joost nods, still staring, kissing at her fingertips.

A low, erotic hum emanates from her chest, “I guess it was meant to be then.”

Something flashes in Joosts eyes when she says that, something so deep, it was like watching his brain chemistry change in real time. “You were made for me…” He whispers before dipping his head into the crook of V’s neck and teething a hard bite into her soft skin.

[more coming soon ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜] -ego⋆♱✮

[voxofthevoid]

*banging pots and pans together* Goyuu gremlins, come get y'all fucking juice.

I say this as if I'm not inundating you in goyuu every week, but Gojou has been conspicuously absent from my current WIP for...10 chapters and over 70k words. A major character and one half of the endgame ship, and he shows up halfway through the story—JJK has got me making more and more novel (in terms of my writing) narrative choices with each fic.

Gotta say, it feels great to get back into writing Gojou. Last time I tackled him was at the end of September, for the fem!Gojou no-powers oneshot. The necrofic from October beginning has a lot of Gojou, sure, but he's a...well, a corpse. Sinking back into goyuu banter and interactions felt like coming home.

Now, here's Demon/Hunter Horror Wednesday #9, featuring Gojou Sluttoru Satoru in the flesh.

There’s a man on the platform.

It’s the height that startles Yuuji first. He’s freakishly tall. The tallest person Yuuji’s seen—unless he counts Sukuna, which he won’t. Besides, this guy’s all legs, and it’s weirdly fascinating how they move, smooth and graceful under shiny pants reflecting the platform lights. They eat up the platform with long, languid strides, getting closer and closer and—

Yuuji blinks, dragging his eyes from the man’s legs to a face that’s a lot closer than he expects, even though he has to crane his neck to make eye contact—kind of. The man’s wearing sunglasses, those thick black ones that show nothing of what’s underneath, so Yuuji just ends up staring at his own distorted reflection.

His eyes are wide, his mouth a little open. Yuuji closes it, his teeth clicking together.

The height isn’t the only startling thing about the man. His hair is a shock of white, messy strands covering his forehead and even falling over the sunglasses. And Yuuji’s got no leg to stand on when it comes to people with eye-catching coloring, but there’s still something about this man that makes it hard to look away.

“Hi?” he offers warily.

“Hello,” comes the answer, immediate and cheerful. “You a local?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”

A tilt of the head. Those snowy strands shift with mesmerizing motions. “That’s not very reassuring.”

“Why…am I reassuring you?”

The man claps, once. “Good point! You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

Yuuji’s so confused. “No?”

“Hmm, you don’t sound very sure about that either.” The man leans closer, which involves a lot of bending. Yuuji blinks at his reflection in the glasses, which blinks right back. “Nah, you’re too cute to be a serial killer.”

“Thanks, I think. Who are you?”

“Gojou Satoru!” The man declares, straightening up and sticking out an arm. “And who are you, my young, uncertain friend?”

Yuuji takes the proffered hand. It’s big, almost swallowing his whole hand when it closes around it. There’s warmth too, seeping boldly into his flesh.

“Itadori Yuuji,” he introduces himself. “I’m very confused.”

“I did get that impression.”

“No, I mean, you’re—” Yuuji shakes his head. “Never mind. Why are you asking weird questions?”

“Hey now,” the man says, his lips pressing into a pout. They’re very shiny. And pink. “Those were very sensible questions. There’s no point asking for directions from a non-local, is there? And it’d be very unwise of me to put myself in the maw of a murderer.”

“Well,” Yuuji says, slightly less confused, “I’m not a murderer. And I do live here. Moved here a few months back. Pretty sure I can give you directions. To where?”

“A recent transplant. I see,” Gojou murmurs, his head still tilted slightly down. Despite the opaque glasses, Yuuji has the distinct sense of being looked at. “Would you happen to know the way to the Fushiguro household, Itadori Yuuji-kun?”

“Fushiguro?” Yuuji repeats. “You know him? Or are you here for Tōji-san?”

“Both,” Gojou says, his smile widening. The glossy gleam of his lips doesn’t hide how sharp the expression is, and for the first time, Yuuji really takes in the rest of his face—the chiseled jaw, the straight nose, the prominent cheekbones. A sharp face, but pretty too. Like Fushiguro’s, except that while Fushiguro’s soft around the edges, this man looks like he’ll cut if touched. “—to me?”

Yuuji blinks back to himself, trying and failing to make sense of what Gojou just said. “Huh?”

That smile grows even bigger, flashing a hint of very white teeth. “I asked if you’re listening to me?”

“Oh. No,” Yuuji admits. “Sorry?”

Gojou hums, tilting his head like a curious cat. “I don’t think you are. But I’ll forgive it if you’re a good boy and take me to the Fushiguros.”

Yuuji swallows, his throat very dry. “I could, but…”

“But?”

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer, Gojou-san?”

Gojou snorts. It’s an ugly sound, rough and nasal. Something inside Yuuji unclenches, like that’s the proof he needed that this guy is human and not some abnormally pretty dream he conjured up. It’d be a kinder dream than usual, but Yuuji can’t trust his imagination anymore.

“I’m too handsome for that, don’t you think?” Gojou asks, his grin grown lopsided.

“Yeah, but—” Yuuji makes a sweeping gesture with his free arm, covering Gojou as well as the rest of the platform. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“So there is a brain under all that pink fluff,” Gojou says, his tone weirdly approving.

“I don’t think you get to talk about anyone’s hair,” Yuuji points out, eyeing Gojou’s snow-white strands again.

But Gojou just tosses his hair like he’s in a shampoo commercial. “It’s all natural.”

“So is mine,” Yuuji says drily. “Not the point.”

“Oh? What is your point then?”

“Serial killing. I think.” Yuuji shakes his head. “Whatever. Yeah, I’ll take you to the Fushiguros’ place. Do anything weird and I’ll punch you.”

“Careful,” Gojou purrs. “I might be into that.”

Yuuji just looks at him for a moment, before taking in the rest of the platform with half a mind to foist this guy off on someone else. There’s no one, obviously. It’s not like this place is bustling even during what was the rush hour back at Sendai. Nanami and Yuuji were alone the entire time they waited, and he’s pretty sure no one but Gojou got off from the train.

Plus, he probably shouldn’t inflict this guy on anyone else. Yuuji doesn’t think he’s a bad person or anything, but he’s kinda weird. And Yuuji’s pretty immune to stranger danger.

Except when he walks into cursed churches.

“Come on then,” Yuuji says. “It’s getting late, and Tōji-san usually turns in early.”

Gojou’s lips and cheeks do something very weird. “Fushiguro Tōji has a bedtime.”

“Uh, not exactly—”

Yuuji’s cut off by demented laughter—full-on cackling, filling up the open air of the empty platform. All he can do is watch, nonplussed, until Gojou calms down, and even that’s startlingly abrupt, the noise stopping so suddenly that the resulting silence seems to boom.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gojou says, not sounding all that sincere. “That was just too funny. Guess the single dad life suits him.”

Yuuji thinks of what Fushiguro sounds like every time he has to talk about his dad. “I…wouldn’t say that. Anyway, you coming?”

“Sure,” Gojou says easily. “You going to let me go first, or are we holding hands the whole way?”

“What’re you—”

Yuuji realizes the answer before he even finishes the question, blinking down at his own hand—still clasped firmly around Gojou’s bigger one. He lets go quickly, snatching it back. For a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with it. Wiping it on his pants would be rude. And it’s not like Gojou’s palm was sweaty or anything. It was just warm, and Yuuji’s whole hand sparks like it’s stolen that heat for itself. He settles for folding his arms across his chest. 

Gojou looks entirely too amused. “Pity.”

“Don’t tease me,” Yuuji grumbles, hoping the heat on his face doesn’t actually show on the skin; he knows his odds though, and they’re not good. He’s about to march off, leaving Gojou to choose whether to follow, when something occurs to him. “Wait, are you…”

“Yes?” Gojou prods after a moment, that curling grin still in place.

Yuuji squints up at him, specifically the sunglasses. He doesn’t think Gojou’s blind. People wear sunglasses all the time, though he’s rarely seen ones so dark. And Gojou navigated the platform pretty easily earlier, no cane or anything. Still, the thought won’t leave his head, and Yuuji’s mind refuses to accept the vague sense of being watched as enough proof, so he asks, “Are you blind?”

“How blunt,” is Gojou’s response. “I like that in people.”

“That’s not—”

—an answer, Yuuji doesn’t say because Gojou proceeds to give him an answer, raising one long-fingered hand to pluck his sunglasses off.

A maelstrom of blue slams into Yuuji.

He’s seen blue eyes more than a few times. People he knew, people he passed in the street. Bright ones, dark ones. Then there’s Fushiguro, whose eyes act like some deep-sea trench, shifting from dark green to depthless blue based on the lighting and his mood.

But he’s never seen eyes like these.

It’s not just one shade of blue, but every blue, all at once. Thin threads of shuddering color, spreading out from pupils that swallow all light. It’s breathtakingly bright, like the colors are reaching out of the eyes to claw at the air. Or maybe they’re just swirling inside, chasing each other inside the confines of those irises.

A part of Yuuji knows that he’s imagining it, that Gojou’s eyes aren’t actually nuclear ghosts. But that logic doesn’t quite penetrate the blue haze in his head.

Gojou blinks, cutting off that stream of color, and Yuuji sucks in a breath like a drowning man.

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

WIP Wednesday

Hello! Tagged by the always lovely @loki-is-my-kink-awakening last Sunday to share.

So sharing a snippet from Chapter 6 of Dividing Lines, the Severance AU in co-authoring with @lgwilt. Introducing Rebecca Tourminet (Don’s neighbor or Ravonna in disguise).

“We used to go to Atlantic City every summer when we were kids.” Don took another sip of whiskey, letting memories float unfettered through his mind. “I loved looking out to the horizon to see nothing but blue. I would swim and swim and swim – just to see how far I could go. There’s something about being in the wide-open ocean. My sister was always too scared to swim out that far but to me… it felt like freedom.”

Don let his head fall back and shut his eyes. If he focused, he swore he could still feel the soft tug and pull of the ocean, the sounds of the waves crashing far away on shore.

“That sounds nice,” Rebecca whispered. Don opened his eyes. She sounded almost wistful – like she too were trapped in a cage of her own making. He wondered when was the last time she’d taken a vacation. He suddenly realized he hadn’t seen her leave her house beyond work – not for a weekend trip or to visit family over the holidays. Did she even have a family? If so, they’d never been over as far as Don could tell.

It’s late in the day but no-pressure tagging people to share however you’d like to on a future day @blackbirdofasgard @queen-of-meows @wolfpup026 @andthekitchensinkao3 @devilbearingtrouble @kcscribbler @lgwilt (and back to you @loki-is-my-kink-awakening of course!)