#what we'd give ourselves

[lee-blogs]

Still packing stuff and now i'm looking for a box for this.

My dad and i made it a few years ago for halloween, probably 2015/16 if i'm remembering right. It's made from a lays can, a wipes container from his work, and paper maché. I don't remember what the wires and front metal bits are from, but the middle actually lights up! It has one of those long battery-powered emergancy lights in it and some colored tissue paper

[bluesey-182]

the vet today really tried to talk me into paying $600 for the same service they provided for my mom and her dog a few months ago for under $100

[thethingything]

also shoutout to the hospital for sending us a bunch of PDFs with information about preparing for surgery and what to expect, except the information was all generic stuff where most of it does't actually apply to wisdom tooth removal, so I had a huge panic attack where I nearly threw up because a bunch of the stuff mentioned in there is extremely triggering for us, only to then find out that stuff literally doesn't apply anyway, but now I feel like I have even less of an idea of what to actually expect because it's so hard to figure out which information does apply

[simmer-until-tender]

the sims 2 community is like a potluck

we bring food, we share it, and we don't discriminate against people who don't/can't bring anything themselves - they can eat here too! if someone wants recipes or ingredients, we can provide those! we have a free community pantry with all kinds of stuff! we just want everyone to enjoy the potluck!

the sims 4 is like a fast food franchise that opened down the street from where we hold our potluck. it's fast, it's tasty, and a lot of people really love to go there! and that's okay! the number of people who come to our potluck has gone down, but we still enjoy ourselves. and a lot of us enjoy both!! some people even bring fast food to the potluck to give out, and that's great!!

but to bring fast food to the potluck and sell it here, while eating the food everyone else brought to share for free and taking stuff from our free community pantry, is tacky. it completely disregards the culture we have created in which sharing has nothing to do with what people can afford, and it pushes the culture of a larger entity upon us, threatening to replace our space with a fast food franchise as well.

please, just let us have our little potluck without monetary infiltration. we are not here to grind, we are here to share our food freely and enjoy each other's company. we'd love to have you at our potluck and you can bring whatever food you want, or bring nothing at all. but don't come into our community and force the culture of another upon it.

sims 2 cc is free cc.

[hedgehog-moss]

I meant to go admire a frozen waterfall yesterday, but I'm scared of driving on slippery roads so I ended up abandoning my car and my dreams and just wandering about by foot, following random roads.

(These first two photos are a little bit blurry because I took them while walking, but it does give them a certain je ne sais quoi... They look like childhood memories)

The soles of my boots had zero grip and were therefore great for sliding, so I ended up taking two sticks and using them like cross-country skiing poles to propel myself forward on the iciest portions of the road. It was fun! Pandolf thought I was insane. He was being extremely prudent on the icy patches, testing each step:

At the beginning of our walk he was prancing as usual but then at one point his front paws slipped forward without warning, turning him into a very long slinky dog. It was pretty funny. I laughed. I admit. He wasn't hurt but definitely a bit vexed.

We did leave the icy road on numerous occasions, to slip under fences and cross promising pastures (promising = lots of footprints; potential friends.) We met several creatures! Like this adorable shetland pony—I tried to take a photo from afar, with Pandolf nearby for scale, to show how scandalously tiny he was, but that turned out to be impossible because he was too friendly. Every time I took a step back he took two steps forward. Clearly he thought he was even better-looking from up close.

We also ran into the darling goat I mentioned yesterday, and I was told by several people on here that she looked more like a ewe.

Sorry for the mistake! But also I tried to look further into this and became more and more confused, as every source that mentioned a foolproof way to tell goats from sheep was disproven by another source—I found one that said sheep had a split upper lip while goats didn't (and my mystery friend didn't), but then another website contradicted it. I ended up with 32 tabs open with photos of goats and sheep of all kinds, some of which looked downright bizarre (what's with the Jar Jar Binks ears), and I began losing my grasp on the concept of animal species altogether. I understood how Darwin must have felt when he tried to figure out the differences between species of barnacles and asked people to send him various specimens and ended up with giant teetering piles of wet smelly boxes full of barnacles in his study that threatened to collapse and bury him alive. Then I closed my 32 tabs.

Honestly ever since learning that some sheep have horns and some goats don't, I've been lost. Not to mention, our mystery girl had a sheep-like tail but a goat-like beard. Are there sheep out there with beards and if yes, how do we make sense of the world? We should be able to point at a mammal with a goatee and say "goat" without doubting ourselves. That's my manifesto.

Whatever she was, the goat-ewe was very sweet, and she baa-ed a lot—at first I thought she was making conversation and I politely baa-ed back, before realising she was calling her horse bodyguards, just in case. Two horses soon showed up from behind a tree, very "What seems to be the problem ma'am?"

I offered nose scritches to the friendliest of the two and she went to report to the goat like "We've neutralised the threat."

Let me insert another (blurry) photo of a travelling Pandolf to symbolise the passing of time before moving on to our last encounter:

... I also had trouble taking photos of this one at first, because she kept coming closer to inspect my scarf—I thought she wanted to explore my pockets for potential treats like Pirlouit often does but no, she was very interested in the smell (texture?) of my scarf specifically.

The sky had cleared as we went down from 1300 to 1100m, as if we'd slipped under the clouds, so I tried to take a photo of this nice late-afternoon sky, and the horse finally stopped focusing on my scarf and instead started insistently positioning herself between me and my beautiful landscape.

Look at this lovely golden light in the snow over there which I was almost able to capture!

Meanwhile her pasture mate was eating a whole broom plant, slowly and thoughtfully, which makes me jealous because my llamas are supposed to eat brooms and they mostly don't, they think they're too good for brooms. They eat the very young ones but not adult brooms, so I have to do the work of three llamas and cut them myself. I wish I could send the Pampses as interns in this pasture, to learn the art of brush-clearing from this wise old horse.

I tried to take one last landscape photo and gave up when the aspiring model came to pose again.

Where was Pandolf, you might ask? Pandolf doesn't trust horses, especially large farm horses, and was quietly and insistently trying to convince me to leave. When Model Horse tried to greet him (it looks like she's chasing him but no, she was just stretching her neck to sniff him) he beat a hasty retreat toward the icy road, his former enemy. Some guard dog.

It may sound like Pandolf didn't have a very fun time on this walk, slipping on ice and running from horses, but don't worry, he found plenty of suitable empty pastures to practise his favourite hobby! Though I think at this point he has moved beyond a hobbyist and is ready to play in professional leagues. He does this thing now where he jumps up a bit to gain momentum; I don't remember him doing this last winter. He's an entirely self-taught dog (in the art of snow diving) and I'm proud of him.

[canihaveacalmtime]

What's the experience growing up with a playboy and a spoiled brat? You will them wear a very different personality in front of other people and take it off when you three go hangout together.

Getting related to them is already tiring enough but being their childhood friend? You must tolerate them a lot, thats how others think but in reality, you really cherish your friends as they have been there with you ever since you learn how to speak and walk.

But ever since you three enter college, they have.. changed, not a lot but it's very noticeable because they begin to avoid you. Like, avoid avoid you, they do talk and make conversation with you but right after the conversation ends, they leave immediately. Do you feel hurt or sad? Of course you do, you even start to questioning yourself what you did wrong.

Turns out you did nothing wrong, the problem isn't even because of you, it's because of them.

It's because now that the size gap between them and you have significant change with you look completely smaller than them as they now look much bigger than you. Whenever they look at you or stand next to to you, to simply put it, they can not stop their dirty minds or get those images of you looking weak on the bed off of their minds.

For you, you just kinda accept the fact that your relationship with them is probably wittering away while as for them, they are thinking about how they going to express their feelings for you because they just... can't take it anymore.

-----------

One late night, Isaac (the play boy) and Evelyn (the spoiled brat) have just returned from the bar after probably hitting up with some newcomers, what they didn't expect to see is the TV still running and a small sleeping figure laying on the couch.

"(Y/N) looks so cute when they're letting all their guards down, huh.."

Evelyn said while playing with your hair and caressing your cheeks, Isaac slowly and carefully lift you up in a bridal style, bringing you back into your room and lay you down on the bed.

"I wish we could just lock them up somewhere for ourselves."

"Wow, what a crazy thought of yours, sac. But I guess I also want to do something like that, too."

They standing there, silently, by the sleeping figure on the bed when suddenly Evelyn climbs onto your bed and start kissing you. Isaac was shocked as he stands there, dead in place until he also climbs onto the bed as he holds your back and give you some bite marks on your neck.

Feeling uncomfortable, you open your eyes and immediately make eyes contact with Evelyn, Isaac also noticed as you three just suddenly froze in place like they just got caught in a bad act and you are just.. shocked.

"Guys- what are you two d-"

You were pushed down onto the bed with both of your hands tied with a ribbon, without time to even react to what just happened, you are force kiss again but this time by Isaac as Evelyn begin playing with your nipples.

Isaac let go of the kiss and the moment he sees your face all red, tears rolling down on your cheeks and the mess he made? The urge to ruin you is never so hard to resist like now and Evelyn seems to notice the signs too as she let go of you, making you fall down on the bed due to dizziness but the moment you see them begin taking their clothes off, you knew that running is your only option left, before you can even make a run for it, you are pinned back on the bed as you look at your friends in fear, tears already falling, while they look back at you with full of lust in their eyes.

"Maybe if you weren't so naive, we'd have ruined you long ago, (nickname)."

"Don't worry, we'll be as gentle as possible."

[oneforthemunny]

oh oh let me seeee

🪩🪄🧺

older!dilf!eddie, smut, domesticity.

smut. minors dni.

"You look pretty tonight." Eddie hummed, looking at your through thick lashes over the table. "Really like that dress on you, baby."

Your cheeks burned at the compliment, shaking your head with a grin you tried to hide. "Stop." You hummed, rolling your eyes lightly. "I've wore this dress before."

"Have you?" Eddie's eyes rolled down your frame, what he could see of it.

"Yes," You scoffed lightly. "I wore it to Steve's forty-second party." Your hands smoothed over the skirt of the dress under the table. "Surprised it still fit after the baby." You muttered.

"Fits really well." Eddie muttered, tongue running over his bottom lip, eyes fixed on you in a darkened look you hadn't seen in a while. It made you squirm with excitement in your seat.

"When did you tell the babysitter we'd be back?" Eddie hummed, nodding at the waiter gently before his eyes fell back to you.

"The babysitter my sister?" You snorted lightly. "I told her ten or eleven. Why?"

Eddie looked at his watch, a gold one fixed on a leather band- his nice watch. Ones he wore to special, dressy occasions, passed down to him from Wayne.

"Gives us... About an hour and a half to ourselves." Eddie hummed, lips twitching with excitement.

"Yeah? You wanting to go somewhere else?" You twirled the last bit of wine around your glass. "Wanna go to The Hideout?"

Eddie's lips curled, tongue running down the inside of his cheek. "Not exactly."

You found yourself pressed in the backseat of your car twenty minutes later. Eddie slotted between your legs, feverishly kissing you. He'd flung the seats down, flattened them so he could lay you down with him. This car, your new mom car, was a lot bigger than the tiny one you had when you first met Eddie. Much more room.

"I missed you." Eddie muttered, his breath hot against the skin of your cheek, fingers tickling down the side of your leg, shoving your dress' hem up.

"I missed you." You whined, breathy and needier than you would have liked. Your sex life had decreased drastically after the arrival of Delilah. Even after you were cleared, even after she had started sleeping through most of the night, it still wasn't back to what it was before.

And you missed it.

Clearly, Eddie had too.

His fingers toyed with the edge of your panties, a finger pressing over your clothed clit, grinning at how you arched, breath caught in your throat with pleasure.

He would have preferred his bed, maybe a nice hotel room, somewhere he could really work his magic on you. But he'd take advantage of what little time you two had without the baby, even if it was in the backseat of your car, parked behind an abandoned shop. The car rocking and shaking with every snap of his hips, windows fogging up from your labored breaths and cries of pleasure, scratching at his nice dress shirt.

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Stirring the Quiet - Sweet Mistakes

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: In the bustling streets of Hollywood, The Daily Grind café offers solace to those seeking peace—famous or not. Y/N, co-owner of the cozy shop, wasn't expecting a masked Jenna Ortega, a regular, hiding in plain sight. Is it just you, or did the spilled sugar not turn out to be the only thing that sweetened your day?

Word Count: 1.1k

The smell of espresso hit me like a warm hug the second I opened the door to The Daily Grind. We'd only been open for three weeks, but the place already felt like my second home. Wilma, my best friend and now business partner, had really nailed it with the cozy vibe— mix of warm lighting and cushy chairs that practically begged you to sit down and spill your deepest secrets into a cup of coffee. We were doing pretty well for ourselves. A lot of it had to do with how we ran things. We prided ourselves on being a low-key spot where even the biggesr stars could come in and out without anyone batting an eye. No paparazzi, No instagram Stans, just people famous—or not trying to enjoy their coffee.

We've had a few people challenge our "No photos, videos, or interrupting other customers of any caliber." rule—a sign clearly displayed at the top of the menu and outside the café. The moment a camera was raised, we'd calmly walk over and politely ask them to leave. If that didn't work, we had a quiet agreement with the boutique's security guard next door—one glare from him, and they usually scurried off. Our café was a sanctuary, and no one would ruin that for our customers. After all, our motto was "We serve coffee, not fame. Take a sip." Today had been like any other day: customers trickling in, ordering their usual, and leaving with smiles. But something was different tonight. Maybe it was the way the door chimed a little softer than usual or the quick sound of shuffling footsteps. I didn't look up right away, as I was too busy balancing a stack of to-go cups while trying not to trip over that corner of the rug that always seemed to curl up, which, let's be honest, was my usual struggle. But I felt it—a shift in the atmosphere. Someone was trying way too hard not to be noticed. I peeked over my shoulder just in time to catch a figure in a hoodie, sunglasses, and a face mask slipping into the booth in the back corner.

I chuckled lightly, nearly knocking over the cups I had stacked. Of course, someone who tried not to stand out only made them stand out more. But hey, this was Hollywood; people like to stay incognito. I walked up beside Wilma as she finished giving a customer their order. She was also watching the spectacle; Wilma leaned in, wiping her hands on a towel. "That hoodie's been here three times this week. Any hunch who it could be?" We, of course, leave celebrities alone here, but we like to talk between ourselves to try and figure out who it is. I shake my head. "No, but they're definitely someone. No one hides like that unless they're trying not to be recognized." Wilma smirked. "Duh—You can tell by how they keep looking over their shoulder." Our eyes met, and she gave me a knowing look. Her smirk grew into a giant grin. "Your turn, mascot," she said, tossing her towel over her shoulder as she walked away. I blinked, confused. "Wait, what? What is that supposed to mean?" She stopped briefly. "Maybe you'll have better luck talking to them. After all, you are the people's favorite barista and a great icebreaker. She looks anxious, so work your little charisma magic." And with that, she disappeared into the back, leaving me staring at the mysterious figure, wondering how I'd gotten roped into this.

As I walked over, I flipped to a new page in my notepad and repeated my mantra when serving customers: Treat everyone the same, whether they're the guy from down the street or some A-lister hiding from the world. No fuss, no fanfare. I tried to stay calm not to scare them out of the café. There was no need to be weird or awkward about it I'm just going to—oh. As I slid up to the table, I managed to knock over the sugar container. Smooth, Y/N. Real smooth. With a quick glance, I crouched down to pick it up, hoping I hadn't drawn attention to either of us. When I stood back up, the figure in the hoodie had their head down, but I could feel them watching me. Great, now I spooked them. "Uh, sorry about that," I chuckled nervously, brushing the sugar off my apron. "That usually only happens on Wednesdays, more than I'd like to admit." A soft giggle escaped from under the mask. Before I could attempt to piece the giggle to a voice she pulled down her mask just enough for me to see her face.

Jenna Ortega.

I blinked, not sure why my brain of all times decided to short-circuit now.

Jenna—freakin'—Ortega was sitting in my café, laughing at my stupid joke.

"Don't worry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've seen worse." I swallowed, trying to play it cool, even though my hands were suddenly very sweaty. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't expecting..." I trailed off, realizing how dumb I sounded. I mean, who was I expecting? Jenna looked around cautiously, lowering her mask completely once she realized no one had recognized her. "I just...needed to get away for a bit. You guys are pretty discreet." I nodded, my heart still racing. "Yeah, absolutely. This is a judgment-free zone. No one here will treat you like, you know...you." A soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and I tried not to stare. "Good. I could use a place like that right now." "Well, you found it," I said, sending her a warm smile. "Is the other barista not here today?" she asked, fumbling with the strings of her hoodie. "Wilma? Yeah, she's hiding in the back. I can go get her if you'd like?" she softly cleared her throat, "No, that's alright, she just knows my usual." "Well, I promise not to screw it up." I smiled, flipping back to a blank notepad page. "Alright, I'll hold you to that. I'll have an iced coffee with caramel and whipped cream." She smiled back at me. I nodded, jotting it down and turning back to the counter. "Coming right up." As I worked on her drink, I couldn't help but glance back over. There she was, sitting quietly, reading a book with her headphones around her neck, looking a lot more calm. Just another person needing some space and quiet in a world of phones, lights, and cameras 24/7. It felt great that our little café was something special for people. Not just because of the stars who might show up but because we somehow created a space where people could just be. And that? That was worth all the spilled sugar in the world.

[estellan0vella]

Robbery Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU Pt2

You sit at the counter of the parlour, sketching random designs in your notebook while chatting with Gojo. Your best friend since high school, Gojo recently joined the shop as a piercer, and his cheerful banter has become a daily highlight.

"Hey, Y/N/N," Gojo says, leaning over to peek at your sketches. "That's some good stuff. Ever thought about doing the tattoos?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "Nah, I'm happy just doodling. Leave the ink to the pros."

Gojo grins, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe I'll just have to convince you one day."

Across the room, Sukuna is working on a client's back piece, his concentration intense and unwavering. His presence is commanding, even when he's completely focused on his work. Toji and Geto are busy with their own clients, exchanging jokes and stories as they ink intricate designs.

The door chimes as someone walks in, and you glance up out of habit. A man stands in the doorway, looking out of place and nervous. Your eyes narrow slightly as you take in the sight of the gun he's trying to hide under his jacket.

"Uh, everybody freeze!" he shouts, pulling the gun out and waving it around.

A tense silence falls over the room, but only for a moment. Then, to the man's surprise, laughter erupts from all of you.

"Wow, seriously?" Gojo says, rolling his eyes. "Compensating much?"

Toji smirks, not even pausing in his work. "Yeah, buddy, did you lose a bet or something? That thing's tiny."

"Is that a lighter in your pocket or are you happy to see us?" Sukuna taunts.

The man blinks, clearly not expecting this reaction. His face flushes with embarrassment and frustration, his grip on the gun tightening nervously.

Sukuna leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "I gotta say, if you're here to rob us, you could at least bring something more threatening. That little pea-shooter won't get you far."

Toji chuckles, glancing over at Geto who nods in agreement. "Seriously, man. Did you think we wouldn't notice you sneaking in here with that?"

You, still seated at the counter, can't help but join in. "And here I thought I'd seen everything in this shop. Turns out, we're now a comedy club."

Gojo, with his usual irreverence, adds fuel to the fire. "I mean, look at you. You look like a marshmallow"

"What does that even mean?" You ask with a giggle and Gojo shrugs.

The man’s face contorts with a mix of anger and humiliation. "Shut up!" he yells, waving the gun again. "I'm serious! I'll shoot!"

Toji raises an eyebrow, his tone still teasing. "Oh, are we doing threats now? How about this: put that thing away before someone gets hurt. Namely, your ego."

The man looks flustered, his grip on the gun tightening as he points it at you. "Shut up! I'm serious! Give me all your money!"

You roll your eyes, unable to contain your sarcasm. "Sweetheart, I have epilepsy. My brain doesn't work right on the best of days. A gun doesn't scare me. Just don't mess with my face or my tits, alright? They're my best features."

Sukuna leans back, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Can confirm. I'm extremely fond of them"

Geto nods solemnly. "Seriously, those are top-tier assets. We should put them in a museum."

Gojo nods solemnly as you laugh. "We'd have to hold a memorial service for the girls. It'd be tragic."

Toji finally looks up, his expression one of mock seriousness. "The worst crime you'd commit today would be damaging that rack."

Gojo grins wider. "We'd put ourselves in the line of fire to protect those honkers."

Sukuna gestures lazily towards you. "Hey babe," he says with a grin, "don't worry, I'll protect those masterpieces," nodding towards your chest. "Can't have this guy ruining what I get to enjoy every day."

Gojo nods sagely. "He's right, those are national treasures."

Toji nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'd cry real tears if something happened to those."

The man's face turns bright red, his hand shaking as he tries to regain control of the situation. "Shut up! Just give me the money!"

"Is it an innie?" Toji asks, feigning genuine curiosity. "You know, your... equipment?"

The robber's frustration grows as the room continues to be filled with laughter and teasing. He finally lowers the gun, looking completely defeated. "You guys are crazy," he mutters before turning and bolting out the door.

As soon as he's gone, the room erupts into even louder laughter. Sukuna sets down his tattoo machine and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Glad our national treasures are safe," he murmurs, planting a kiss on your temple and you snort.

Gojo is still chuckling, shaking his head. "That was priceless. Best robbery attempt ever."

Geto nods in agreement. "Yeah, we really should thank the guy for the entertainment."

Toji stretches, leaning back in his chair. "Who knew our biggest concern today would be protecting Y/N's tits?"

You grin, feeling the warmth of Sukuna's embrace. "Well, they're glad to still be here."

"We're all glad they're still here," Sukuna says with a grin. 

The next day, you come into the parlour with a new sign you’ve created. It's bright and colourful, with bold letters that read, “No Guns Allowed. Seriously, We'll Laugh In Your Face.” Gojo takes a marker from you and neatly writes 'We will protect the honkers with our own bodies' making you laugh as you hand the sign to Sukuna who takes it from you, chuckling as he hangs it in the window for everyone to see.

Sukuna steps back to admire your work, a proud smile on his face. “Looks great, babe.”

Gojo, standing next to him, nods in approval. “Perfect. Now we just need someone dumb enough to test it.”

Toji and Geto walk in, glancing at the sign and chuckling. “I give it a week,” Toji says.

“Three days, tops,” Geto counters.

You all laugh, knowing that no matter what happens, you’ve got each other’s backs—and that’s more than enough to handle anything life throws at you.

The rest of the day goes by without a hitch. As you sketch, chat with Gojo, and watch Sukuna work, you feel a deep sense of contentment. Life may be unpredictable, but with this group of misfits, it’s never boring.

The bell above the door jingles, signalling a new customer. You glance up. “Welcome to the madhouse,” you say with a grin. “How can we help you today?”

[pseudowho]

Infiltration, Chapter Four: The Rumbling Shrine

Nanami Kento and the reader must pretend to be married to infiltrate a deadly Curse-user cult and take it down from the inside.

*SMUT/NSFW/18+ BEGINS HERE*

A slow-burn fic with fluff/comfort, angst, smut and heroics from our favourite salaryman.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

A rumble, as deep as the earth and centuries old, shook through the Shrine. The inhabitants of the Temple below treated the monstrous groan with casual indifference; a pair of caretakers barely paused in their conversation as they held wobbling effigies in place, and the cleaner grumbled as he fetched his dustpan and brush to collect the drifts of plaster tumbling from the ceiling.

Inside the Shrine, the man who had lost his wife to battle, fought the desperate fight of a man who had lost everything. Covered in blood and standing over the shattered body of a Shrine attendant, his Shikigami fled from him as an ancient roar shook his bones. Devastated by his abandonment, The Fathers restrained him once more as he cried out, thrashing, legs flailing in a mad dance.

A second man, whose wife had forsaken him, was paralysed with terror, sweating and shaking as he stared down the barrel of a gun, knowing he was next.

As the widower was dragged, still crying out for the ghost of his wife, the rumble grew deep, and hungry.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

It felt like you had cried into Kento's chest for hours. The smears and splatters of your blood in his shirt were now watered down by your tears, pale red and sickly-looking. Patiently, and needing to hold you as much as you needed to be held, Kento stroked your hair, his chest occasionally giving low, consonant words of reassurance that you drank in, soothed.

Eventually, with a shaky sigh, you sat up, and wiped your eyes with conviction.

"I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm just...angry. Annoyed. If I'd been able to fight properly, I might have been able to take her."

Kento's frown was deep and ominous, "You shouldn't have had to. These people are monsters and I...I should have stepped in sooner," his voice grew tight. You shook your head, conviction remaining.

"You made the safest choice. I made the safest choice. If I'd have fought with my abilities, if we'd refused the fight, if you had called for help or stepped in too soon...we'd have given ourselves away. Things could have been so much worse."

Kento hadn't yet let go of you, allowing you to sit up, but still holding you tightly between his parted thighs. He looked away from you, face grim, with a thousand-yard stare. You held his face gently between your hands, pulling him back to you.

"I mean to see this through, Kento. I have to. I need to." Kento's expression grew momentarily pained as he swallowed hard, nodding.

"Anything else like that, though," he urged, "and I will end this and call for help. Whether you agree to it or not." Pausing for thought, you nodded slowly. Kento squeezed your upper arms, but let go quickly as you winced.

"Shit, I'm sorry. We need to fix you up," Kento grumbled, heading to the kitchen and searching through cabinets. Not finding what he wanted, he continued grumbling while you watched him fondly, imagining him as an old man, smitten at the thought of his liver-spotted hands and comfortable cardigans.

You crawled gingerly to your suitcase, and, grabbing your keys, hacked through a fabric panel in the casing, revealing a host of first-aid and medical supply items.

"Kento," you beckoned. He stood over you, looking down at your suitcase. His eyes crinkled at you in a soft smile.

"Clever girl," he said, kneeling and rummaging as you blushed furiously. Kento surveyed you, crouched on his haunches, his thighs looking deliciously thick as the fabric of his tuxedo stretched around them. You gulped, his eyes burning holes through your dress; your wounds were still filled with dirt and gravel. Kento cleared his throat.

"Can you get cleaned up alone, or...?" You flapped your hands at him, blush deepening as the tips of his ears turned pink. Mumbling reassurances to him, you took yourself to the shower, washing your tender wounds to the best of your ability. Your arms and legs were laden with grazes, and a huge purple bruise blossomed over your ribcage and belly. You thanked your lucky stars that you didn't have anything worse.

Wrapping yourself in a towel, you peeked out of the bathroom door. Kento looked up, waiting for you with various antiseptics and bandages. He cleared his throat again, looking down at his arrangement while he held his hand out to you. Padding over to him, blushing at your state of undress, you took his hand and he helped you to sit in front of him.

Wordlessly, Kento glanced to you for permission before starting to dab your grazes with antiseptic. Unflinching, you were used to far worse than this. Kento worked on you while you rested your chin on your knees, deep in thought.

"I...never had a chance to thank you," you said, so quiet that Kento held his breath to hear you.

"For what?"

"For getting me out that-- that day." Kento blinked, surprised that you remembered. He remembered it well-- being the First-Grade called to go and manage the Curse that had killed one Second-Grade and wounded another. Being the one to find you, slumped on the cold concrete, bloodied, clutching your best friend's mangled body while you stared lifelessly into the darkness. Being the one (his heart breaking for you, the woman he was growing to love) who had eased your friend's body out of your cold, clutching fingers, and shielded your view as the body was zipped up into black plastic. Being the one to drive you home, the car silent, rain hammering down on the windows, as orange streetlights illuminated the tears streaking down your cheeks.

Kento gulped, blinking back tears, remembering how Suguru, his lost friend, had once done that for him. Remembering Suguru's soft words of reassurance and hands clasping his upper arms tightly. Remembering how he, too, was once so close to following Suguru down a similar path, not once blaming him, but blaming the system that saw fit to sacrifice so many.

"I--" Kento's voice cracked, "I wouldn't have left you alone like that. I just wish-- I wish you'd have called me...after." He kicked himself mentally, not wanting to blame you for your self-isolation, not wanting to put himself first, "I would have been there for you. If you had wanted. I hope...I hope you know that."

You shook your head, "No. I already feel bad enough making you relive your own...losing Haibara...it wasn't fair for me to put that on you."

Kento grumbled in disagreement, "I can honestly say I've had little in the way of friends since Yuu died. You're the best...the closest friend I've had since. I'd have wanted to be there for you. I--" Kento swallowed thickly, "I still want to be there for you. As a friend, or...or anything, really."

Heat crept down the back of your neck. Was that...did he just...? Your mind reeled at the near-confession. Am I just...imagining things? Your mind worked at a hundred miles per hour.

Kento cursed himself, taking your silence as awkwardness. He moved swiftly on, "I need to look at your ribs," he said, voice tight again, "So if you get under the covers and keep your towel over your chest I can check them for breaks."

You nodded, pink cheeked, and he turned while you lay down in the futon, lower half covered by blankets and breasts loosely concealed behind your towel. With your arm over your eyes, Kento turned to take you in, his breath catching at your body, just a few thin sheets of fabric away from total exposure, in your shared bed.

You jumped when Kento's broad, warm palms flattened softly against the bruise across your ribs. You could swear you felt every inch of skin individually as his deft hands worked over your ribs, feeling for fractures. You wished his hands would work higher, and lower, fingers rolling your nipples and slipping between your legs, feeling your pulse in your clit as you prayed Kento would make a move, fully open to being taken by him, then and there, in your futon.

Kento was meticulous, his focus split between wanting to take care of you, and wanting to take care of you. He wanted to make sure your ribs weren't broken. He wanted to remove your arm from your eyes. He wanted to rub ointment into the bruising. He wanted you to watch him as he kissed down your body, his tongue settling between your legs to finally taste you. He wanted you to sigh with relief as he tended to your pain. He wanted you to sigh and pull his hair as you called his name in pleasure.

Barely able to conceal the growing stretch in his trousers, he settled for checking for fractures and dabbing ointment, but your sighs of relief still went straight through him in a way he found distractingly arousing. He stood, turning his back to you, forcing out to you: "Go and get dressed. We should get some sleep."

The air was thick between you both as you prepared for bed. Lying down together, so many words unspoken in the dark, little sleep would be had that night.

A quiet voice spoke out; "Thank you."

A warm hand reached out, small fingers clasped against it, squeezing, sharing that nothing was owed and everything was yet to play for.

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Kento and you had been left, suspiciously undisturbed, for two full days. The morning after the welcome party, a basket of treats, medicines and an apology note had been delivered to the house by the Fathers' wives. Kento had invited them in, and they had wittered sympathetically about the bruised and injured state of you, as if they hadn't been completely party to the savage beating.

Kento had been the picture of an attentive husband-- you felt, surprisingly naturally, almost as if he wasn't even acting-- and so the wives had wittered about how kind and dutiful he was, how fortunate you were, and what a lovely father Kento would make. You had demurred, agreeing with everything, and Kento hid his face in the cupboards, pretending to look for more tea.

As the wives left, you and Kento spoke, Kento locking the basket away in a cabinet with a sour look on his face.

"They really want you in their little club, don't they?" you hummed, taking a bite of your toast.

"Don't be so sure that it's only about me," Kento mused, "I actually think we may have caused a little disagreement between the Fathers that night." You tilted your head sideways, a silent gesture for Kento to continue. "Father Shinzu likened you to the Cursed-technique users of the Inumaki clan. My guess is, Father Tatsu was prioritising growing the Cult's raw strength, while Father Shinzu was interested in the potential of your technique."

"I mean, Father Shinzu's right. If we had kids, my ability with your added power behind it? Oof." You continued to eat your toast thoughtfully, while Kento imagined being surrounded by your babies, daydreaming about tiny clothes and tiny footsteps.

Kento had kept up appearances over these two days, heading out to the shops for food, talking to the residents of the village, all of whom now seemed very interested in the new couple who were madly devoted to each other, even enough to risk their lives to defend each other within this community. Word seemed to have got out that you, as a couple, should be nurtured, lest you wish to leave.

As such, Kento had returned home that afternoon with matching new gloves from the knitting woman, a full bag of shopping ("on the house" the shopkeeper insisted with a wink), an invitation to visit the Shrine, and a lot of information.

"The gossip you overheard from the tea shop ladies was accurate," Kento assured, unpacking bags while you admired the matching gloves, secretly thrilled, "the librarian up at the Temple is responsible for records of members, current and present. I imagine that would include logs on their activities, in and out of the Community. And the library is actually open to residents."

"Perfect," you chirped, clapping your hands together, "So, if we can get out some information about those outside the Community, the other sorcerers can hunt them down, and we could handle inside."

"Exactly," Kento agreed, pressing a mug of tea to your hands. Doing this, with you, felt so...natural. He had taken untold amounts of pride in taking care of you. Even better, you had happily accepted his assistance. You seemed so much brighter than you had been, just a fortnight before, when you had been given this mission. That alone, thought Kento, makes this all worth it.

The truth was, Kento had long-since been your candle in the dark. You recalled long evenings in with your deceased friend, a pizza between you, as you had poured your feelings out about Nanami Kento, and she had smiled knowingly, excited by your blossoming love. She had joked about being your Maid of Honour, you recalled with a deep pang of pain. At this moment, you wanted nothing more than for this to be real-- not as Mrs.Tsuda, but as Mrs.Nanami instead. His. And he, yours.

"Tomorrow, then," Kento spoke, sitting with you and flipping open his book, "we go to the Shrine, as invited, and then to the Library."

"You flirt with the librarian, and I gather the intel. Right."

"The librarian's a man."

"So? You don't know his taste. Don't be so narrow-minded, Kento."

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"It needs more," a furious voiced hissed in the dark, fragrant heat of the Shrine, "it grows hungrier and it angers."

"Calm yourself," a measured voice urged, soft and slow, "it is not towards us that the anger is directed." A lantern was gestured towards a deep pit dug through the ground in the middle of the Shrine, within which something huge and shapeless writhed and whispered.

"The sacrifices are sufficient. One of the shopkeepers found their protective amulet missing yesterday, and the Goddess did not even rise to seek food amongst the villagers."

Father Tatsu sneered, but quietened, satisfied. "With the backing of the Goddess, in her new vessel, our numbers will grow soon. Their children will draw from her power should the women gestate close to her." Father Shinzu nodded, smiling, placating.

"Exactly so," he pressed, "and recruitment is going well. Many approached couples are accepting our offer. And the ones who don't, well..." Father Shinzu's lantern light seemed to dim as tendrils from the pit ebbed ever closer, "...she does need feeding, after all."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You were never not excited to visit a library, but saw fit to remind yourself that today you had a plan- get in, gather intelligence, get out. Kento would occupy the librarian to give you time.

But, to begin, hand in hand in your new matching gloves, you walked together past the houses and river, through the village centre, and up a steep, winding path towards the Shrine. Away from the vestiges of Cursed-energy of other inhabitants of the village, you and Kento felt an almost overwhelming pressure of older, darker Cursed-energy wash over you as you walked up the hill.

You pushed through, your steps growing heavier, like walking through treacle. The very trees seemed to bend away from the Shrine, leaning in desperate escape, unwillingly held by their roots. You continued up the steps, but stopped, realising Kento had fallen behind.

Kento was leaned backwards against the trunk of an old tree, eyes closed and breathing through his nose. You hurried back to him, your hand gentle on his arm.

"Kento? You look pale. Do you need to go back?"

Kento shook his head slowly, trying and failing to swallow his nausea, "You're not going up there alone. I just...I feel like I've felt Cursed-energy like this somewhere before. It's..."

"...it's vile," you finished for him. Looking up towards the Shrine, eyes narrowed, you felt something huge, something corrupted within. You had to know more. You reached out for Kento's hand, plaiting your fingers through his.

"Can you make it?" You urged, apologetic. Kento blew a long breath out through pursed lips, but nodded, standing again and moving to you.

"Wait! Mr and Mrs.Tsuda! Stop!" A panicked voice beckoned you back down the steps; it was the gardener you had spoken with before, and he hobbled up the steps as fast as his arthritic knees could carry him. He reached you, breathless, smiling wanly.

"I'm afraid the Shrine is closed for visitors today," he puffed, dabbing his brow with a slightly muddy cloth, "there's quite an important ceremony going on up there. I'm sure the Fathers will be filling you all in at the weekly gathering tomorrow."

Kento bowed, thanking the gardener, and you headed together past him on your descent, feeling his eyes burning into your backs the whole way down. Rounding the corner, you and Kento shared a sideways glance, uncertain but foreboding.

You sighed, in silent dread of things to come. From the way Kento squeezed your hand, his thumb stroking over the back of it occasionally, he felt the same. He seemed lost in deep thought. He was, in fact, deeply troubled, desperately hunting through memories to find where he had felt Cursed-energy like that before.

"To the library, then," you offered weakly as Kento hummed his assent. Distracted by a fresh aim, Kento nodded confidently, looking down at you.

Kento stopped walking as you approached the Temple doors; still holding your hand, and pulling you back to him, you bumped to a stop against his chest. He gently pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and your heart skipped a beat as his honeyed eyes crinkled at you.

"You've got this," he urged. Fingering the pen and notepad in your pocket, and nodding with a blush, your mind stuttered to a halt as Kento pressed a kiss to your forehead. You leaned into it, eyes fluttering closed, wondering how his lips would feel against your own. Unable to resist, and pulling him close, you squeezed him to ground yourself, and he chuckled, arms around you feeling so solid and warm.

The library was small, and friendly, round the back of the Temple. Shown to it by the same older woman in a kimono who had shown you to the waiting room on the first day, you greeted a few other couples who browsed the bookshelves. The librarian, a grizzled-looking elderly man with bushy eyebrows, was already lost in conversation with another couple. Holding you by the elbow, Kento pulled you behind bookshelves and leaned in to whisper.

"The librarian hasn't spotted us yet. The records room is at the back. We'll go together." Recognising that some of the other couples present were those at the spar, and leaking significant amounts of Cursed-energy, Kento felt sick with fear at the thought of you being isolated in the records room, away from him. You agreed, and, suppressing your Cursed-energy together, and stalking round the edges of the bookshelves, you approached the records room, the door slightly ajar.

"They obviously think they vet their recruits well enough," Kento murmured, slipping into the room behind you, leaving the door ajar as it had been. Kento stood at the edge of the doorway, keeping watch. The room was small, meticulously organised, with a small writing desk and a set of tin filing cabinets.

You set to work quickly, slipping the cabinets open, and ascertaining the systems in place- recruits, listed alphabetically by surname, coloured tabs attached to some, indicating a key of some kind. You flicked through, encountering a folder with a familiar name, the front of the folder now emblazoned with red stamped letters: DECEASED.

"Kento," you hissed, and he looked to you, "what was the name of that Cult member you and Gojo killed near that club?"

Kento's eyes flicked downwards for a moment, then back to you, "Matsumoto."

You nodded. The name matched. There was a yellow tab attached to the folder. Finding half a dozen other folders with yellow tabs attached, you opened them, reading neatly handwritten file notes one by one. Bingo, you thought.

Each yellow-tabbed file had notes describing where the individual had been sent for recruitment of new members. Location updates were neatly listed within the notes, most as recent as the day before. You pulled out your notebook and pen, copying the details, one by one, thorough and quick.

Kento called your name, hushed. You, distracted, didn't answer, lost in completing your note taking. Kento called your name again, hushed and frantic.

Looking up at him, you followed where he stared, alarmed and stock-still, at something small and brown on the floor. You frowned, leaning over the desk, looking closer.

"Is that...?"

"A rat," Kento finished, "A very...interested rat, with quite a lot of Cursed-energy...for a rat." Inquisitive, the rat looked at Kento, and then at you, before scurrying away out of the door of the records room.

"Shit," Kento hissed, "shit--" rushing over to you as you hurriedly packed away the files, everything in its rightful place, hiding your notebook and pen within your clothes. Kento grabbed you by the elbow, staring around the room and indecisive for a split second, before yanking you bodily into a narrow cupboard.

You squeaked as you pressed close against Kento, and the door closed with a resounding click. In the dark, the smell of stationery, paper and Kento filling your nose, your hands pressed to his chest and his knee between your legs, your heart pounded as you heard a voice start to approach the records room.

A weak band of light seeped in through a tiny window above your head, dust motes floating idly through, as you looked at Kento in alarm. Reaching out with your Cursed-technique, you felt the edge of the mind of the librarian, approaching alone, and tried to drop a thought into his mind; I'm sure it's nothing, I don't need to go and check, but the suggestion didn't take hold, slipping from the surface like oil off a hot pan, and you shook your head frantically at Kento. His eyes were wide, calculating options at a rapid pace.

"Someone in there, hmm?" The Librarian spoke to his rat, seemingly able to communicate with it in a way nobody else could, "Alright. Away with you. I'll sort it out." A small scurrying noise. Footsteps into the room, a door closing quietly.

"Oh god, I...I'm so sorry." Kento stared down at you in grim conviction, your bodies hot and pressed together. Hands hurried, Kento ran his hands through his own hair, messing it up. He loosened his tie to hang open, round his neck, and undid several buttons of his shirt, untucking it next and undoing the button and zipper of his trousers. You stared at him, mouth agape.

His hands rushed to you, sinking into your hair right to the roots and ruffling it, before reaching down and lifting your shirt as you squeaked in alarm, bra revealed and breasts almost falling free, and his hands dropped to your jeans to undo the button and unzip them, the lace of your underwear now peeking through.

Kento thrust his knee between your legs, lifting you bodily against the wall. You had a single flat second to stare into his eyes as you felt the librarian approach your door. Kento's hands gripped the sides of your face, fingers deep in your hair. He leaned in close, your hands clutching the front of his shirt now. His hot breaths mingled with your own.

Kento kissed you, hot and desperate, his tongue parting your lips, as the cupboard door clicked open.

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Chapter Five: Breaking Point, link HERE!

@angelofthorr @nn-hh192 @vxmethyst @moonmalice @daisynik7 @heyitsmirae @black-swan-blog27 @shamelessreaderthere @orikuu

[corroded-hellfire]

Requests pre-Eliza? Of course we have 😅 I don't know about y'all but we need bff Jess to come back! I mean hello? Best friend, where are you? As personal experience, I have known my girl for over a decade now and we share pretty much and I we shop together, not as much as we'd like but we do, and we often give advice (more like buy it now or throw away whatever that is) and that is also about lingerie or sexy underwear, we do enjoy to surprise our men and also feel a lil sexy with ourselves and with what we wear ❤️‍🔥👯‍♀️

We love Jess, we stan Jess. And it’s only fitting that this story about best friends was written with my best friend @munson-blurbs 💚

Warnings: mentions of smut

Words: 2.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The two of you have only been in the lingerie shop for seven minutes and you already have a black baby doll top with matching panties in your arm and Jess has a fire engine red bra and panty set. One of the crappier parts about growing up is not getting to see friends as often as you did before, or as you’d like to. It’s been far too long since just you and Jess spent time together, so when the idea of shopping for some post-wedding lingerie popped into your head, the perfect partner-in-crime came to mind. 

A rack just past the clearance section catches your eye and you stroll over to pick up a white bustier.

“White? You sure about that?” 

You turn around to see Jess raising an eyebrow at you. “There was nothing virginal about those sounds coming from your room when he stayed over.”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a pained smile, knowing that she’s right. Your brain is flooded with memories of waking up to Eddie’s head between your thighs, nose nudging at your clit while his tongue fucked into you. Or the nights that started and ended with him deep inside you, fingers gripping your hips like you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight. The two of you tried to be quiet–or at least had the intention of doing so–but after a few orgasms, volume control was the least of your concerns.

Unable to refute your friend since you know she’s right, you stick your tongue out at her and bump your hip into hers. A red bra on the clearance shelf is the closest thing to you so you grab it and toss it at Jess’s face.

“Here, have more red, since you’re the devil. Oh no, wait.” A pair of black panties is one shelf lower, so you toss those at her next. “Black to match your soul.”

The brunette laughs and bats the garments away, putting them back where they belong.

“Just let me know if you see anything crotchless because I—”

“Ripped the last pair with Kyle, yes, I know,” you lament. “I don’t need to hear that story again.”

“Spoilsport,” Jess mumbles, turning to stroll down another aisle of slips and robes. “Seems unfair with how much we’ve talked about your sex life.”

“First of all, you ask,” you point out, walking past her and over to a rack of lace corsets. “Second of all, we talk about your sex life plenty. When you were with Paul, or Annie, or Josh. But I’ve heard the Kyle story way too many times.”

The scraping of metal hangers as you look through the corsets isn’t loud enough to drown out Jess’s overdramatic sigh. She reaches behind you and lifts a hanger off with her index finger, presenting you with a white lace teddy.

“Here. Eddie will lose his mind.” She shrugs. “Not that he doesn’t already do that when you’re in anything. Or nothing.”

Heat rises in your cheeks, despite knowing she’s right. You accept the garment from her and look it over—it’s exactly what you were looking for.

“It’s perfect,” you tell her. “Just have to find matching garter and stockings now.”

As you turn your head to scan for the items, a plum-colored chemise catches your eye. 

“Ooh, Jess!” You grab her hand in your free one and tug her in that direction. “This color would look perfect on you.”

You pick it up and hold it against Jess’s lithe body, the reddish-purple complimenting Jess’s brown skin perfectly.

“I do look good in this shade, don’t I?” Jess asks, looking down at herself.

“Any shade, really,” you say. It’s one thing you’ve always been envious of your friend for.

Jess bats her eyelashes at the compliment and takes the chemise from you to look it over again. She shuffles the red bra and panty set she already has in her arms and drapes the chemise over them. Patting the silky material, her head snaps up and she gives you an eager smile.

“Okay, idea,” Jess says. “You go to pick out something for me, I’ll go pick out something for you, then we go try everything on.”

The two of you used to do this back when you were in college with dresses and cute outfits when there was a party or special event coming up. A beloved tradition between best friends.

“Deal,” you agree. “I’ll begin my search as soon as I locate my garter and stockings.”

Both of you are fairly quick in your searches and you meet up in front of the dressing rooms fifteen minutes later. Though, “dressing rooms” may be too generous of a term. In reality, they’re only large booths sectioned off by swaths of dark raspberry velvet curtains. 

Jess hands you a royal blue corset that has thin strips of fabrics laced over a cutout that exposes your belly button, and the matching panties. The color is gorgeous, and the material is surprisingly soft for something that’s meant to crush your ribs. In return, you deliver the classic black romper you have chosen for her. 

First up in the fashion show, Jess tries on her red bra and panties, and you slip into the sheer black baby doll top and panties you’d nabbed as soon as you’d walked into the shop. Once it’s situated on your body to your satisfaction, you push the heavy velvet curtain out of the way and pad into the common area where you’re met by an excited Jess.

“Oh, girl!” she squeals as you do a twirl, flaring out the panels of the top. “That one better be for the honeymoon too.”

With a sigh far too dramatic for the moment, you look down at yourself in the garment. As soon as you put it on all you wanted was to show it off to Eddie. The moment you stepped into the store all you could think about was how Eddie would react to how you would look and what he would do to you while you were wearing some of these pieces. 

“All of them have to wait for the honeymoon?” you pout. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“It’s less than a month away.”

“But still.”

“Oh, do what you want,” Jess says, waving a dismissive hand, as if she were dealing with a pouting child. She turns to go back towards her dressing room, but you call out for her to wait and your eyes scan over her in the crimson pieces.

“Jess, if it weren’t illegal, I’d say you should just wear that everywhere,” you say. “Like…wow.”

“Why thank you,” Jess says, dropping into a curtsy that makes you laugh. “Next, try on what we picked for one another.”

You give her a quick salute and the two of you disappear back into your respective booths. A few mumbled curses come from your side of the curtain as you change into the corset, the damn thing harder to get on than it looks. Once you both emerge, your jaw drops as you stare at your friend.

“Jess, please let me pick out everything you wear from here on out. You look hot.”

Jess turns around, looking at herself from all angles in the tailor’s mirror tucked away in the corner.

“Love that it’s not skintight and I’m still sexy as hell.”

“Teach me your ways.”

Slowly, Jess turns to you with raised eyebrows.

“Ma’am.” She grabs your hand and tugs you in front of the intricate golden mirror. “Look at you. Look at these.” She runs her hand, palm up, beneath your boobs, as if presenting them. “You wear this and Eddie isn’t going to let you go until he physically drops.”

You giggle and cover your face with your hands just at the thought. Maybe on this honeymoon you’d see how far you could push Eddie before you wear him out.

Jess smacks your ass and backs up so you can look at yourself on the mirror on your own.

“God really said let’s make the sexiest bitches in the world be best friends,” she says. 

You take a look at yourself in the mirror, spinning to see every angle of yourself. You’re not sure what it is, but you find yourself genuinely admiring how you look. You could probably count on one hand the number of times that’s happened in your life. Whether it’s growing older, having such a supportive best friend, a fiancé who adores you, or a bit of everything in your life, you feel like maybe your happiness is radiating from the inside out.

“I do look good,” you admit to yourself.

“Hell yes,” Jess agrees. 

“Okay, okay,” you say, walking away from the mirror. “Last sets.”

It’s much easier to slip into your last pieces of lingerie so you step out of your dressing room before Jess.

“God, this feels so good against my skin,” Jess says as she comes out of her dressing room. She runs her hands down her body, the silky material cool and flowing like water down to mid-thigh. Her head lifts from admiring her own body and once she gets a look at you in your garments, she lets out a gasp and covers her mouth. Confusion wrinkles your brow, but you really get concerned when you see silver tears lining her eyes.

“What?” you ask, hands feeling all over your body as if you’d find a knife sticking out of you or something equivalent.

“Oh my God,” Jess says, arms dropping. “You…you’re glowing. How? In your wedding lingerie, you’re glowing.”

Even though your body relaxes, your face heats up as a shy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“It feels different than the last two,” you say, adjusting the garter near your right hip.

“In a good way?” Jess asks.

“Yeah. But not like…physically. I don’t know.”

“Look at yourself,” Jess urges, nodding towards the mirror.

You take the few steps over and a small, airy giggle bursts out of you when you see yourself.

“I look like a sexy angel or something,” you say.

“Because you are.” There’s no teasing or biting wit in Jess’s voice; she’s completely sincere and her words are heartfelt.

New emotion bubbles up within you and you turn around to pull your friend into a tight embrace.

“I love you so much,” you say.

“Love you to the moon and back, babe.”

When you walk through the door of your apartment, Eddie hops off the couch and comes over to greet you. Before he can get too close, you put the bags behind your back. Your fiancé gives you a kiss before raising his eyebrows at you.

“Whatcha got?”

“You know exactly what I went shopping for, Mister,” you say, nudging his chest with your shoulder. “And you know you’re not allowed to see. So kindly step aside so I can hide these bags from you.”

Eddie lets out a high-pitched whine but steps to the side. He does follow you as you walk into the bedroom though.

“Did you have fun?” he asks.

“I did,” you say as you shove the bags into the back of your closet. “It was nice to have some girl time. The two of us don’t get to spend as much time together anymore.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.” Eddie leans against the doorway between your shared room and the hallway. When you get your closet door securely closed behind you, you traipse over and slip your arms around his neck.

“Where are the boys?” you ask.

“Nancy and Holly took them to the movies with Natalie and Theo,” he tells you.

“How long ago did they pick them up?”

A smirk grows on Eddie’s face.

“‘Bout twenty minutes ago. Why? You got something in mind?”

“I was just trying on lingerie for an hour and wondering what you’d do to me in it,” you say, trailing your hand down to his chest. You grab the front of his t-shirt, your fingers twisting in the material. Your fiancé’s eyes widen, a grin practically splitting his face in two. A small twitch from beneath his sweatpants immediately draws your attention as his length hardens at your mere touch.

“Yeah, I got something on my mind,” you continue, teeth grazing his neck. “And I think you do, too.”

Before Eddie can even open his mouth, you yank him towards you and walk the two of you back to the bed. 

[artsy-waffle19]

I think the reason why the fandom is so divided about what to think of the cat king is because this character fits into very different concepts depending on how you chose to vibe check him.

so if we decide to vibe check him by supernatural/fairytale standards he's a typical trickster with a goal who pulls of a bunch of smart tricks in order to achieve them. He also follows a very stict code of "an eye for an eye", most of the time throwing a characters own actions right back at them in an unpleasant way. In fairytales and folktales the whole deal with "the king saw them and immediately fell madly in love, demanding their hand in marriage" is a pretty common occurence so that fits that too. The task he gives Edwin is also very fairy tale like as it's a task that sounds impossible but the hero manages to outwit him and beat him, which earns them his respect even though he might temporarily consider going back on his deal. So if we vibe check this character he's just a morally neutral character that unfortunately functions as an inconvenience in the heros main story.

however why a lot of people have issues with him is because it's also a very valid approach to vibe check him by real life standards which does make him a predator. (Let's be real if our friends irl were in this exact situation Edwin is in, we'd get out the cricket bats ourselves while telling them to stay as far away as possible from that person and better yet get a restraining order on that guy). Instead of "trickster who tells the hero to solve a riddle and asks his subjects to keep him posted about what the hero is doing" we get "guy who won't accept a no as an answer and keeps stalking somebody who already rejected him", just like instead of "morally neutral character goes by 'an eye for an eye' does things that might be uncomfortable for the protagonists but are technically fair" we'd just see "petty guy who keeps throwing a tantrum about random stuff but won't behave any better". So it really depends on wether we go by folktale morals or real life morals, which both offer very plausible interpretations of the character. And this is intended as the show repeatedly shows us this supernatural world but then the villains are always normal people doing very bad, very real things to their victims. Devlin is just a guy who is obsessed with control. He's not a supernatural being or posessed or anything, he's just a bad person. So are Edwins and Charles' bullies, Charles' father, Brad and Hunter and David as he is a demon but it's not his being a demon but his abusive behaviour that traumatised Crystal. So the show actually makes us view it through that real life lens and vibe check all of the characters by our real life standards, according to which the Cat King is moving in a really dark gray area, while also being set in the supernatural world with entirely different standards, that we are also aware of.

So yes: The Cat King is a fun and interesting trickster character, who influences the character development of one of our main characters in a positive way and is otherwise no more than a minor inconvenience with a fun character design and yes: if he were a real person he'd need to get punched in the face, go outside and touch some grass and then get like a decade of therapy. These two things can be true at the same time. That's what makes the character so good.

[susitseart]

In return.

For your friendship.

That's what I must be. As good friend as you are.

Otherwise I'll never be worth of you.

You, who deserves all the best in the world.

Darkness has always been a part of our existence. We born from dark to dark, to find our place in this world. To look for the glimmer of light that would make life worth all of our searching.

We went to do this alone. And eventually some of us were lucky enough to find it.

Our own way and reason to be happy.

Someone other who was searching too.

A friend.

The other who became so dear to us and to whom we grow so dear. The other, in whose light the world wasn't so dark and lonely anymore.

In the glow of that other, we were happy. For a friend was healing some part of us that somehow felt sore and numb at the same time.

But it's possible that one day the glimmer of the other starts to feel too much. Too bright. Too beautiful. Something we cannot be worthy of.

Not someone like us. Who deep down feel so permanently broken.

Too broken. And as too broken, we don't know how to be there for the other as we should.

We can't find words of comfort to the other when the other needs it. We cannot bear part of the other's pain, for it mixes too much with our own pain.

We can barely breathe. How could we be something to someone who is more precious to us than anything?

That's why we may retreat back into the dark. To the place where we belong.

We may spend a moment or an eternity there. We don't know and we don't care. It's all just so comforting and safe.

While we're there, our friend can find something better than us. While we are there, at least we are not a burden to those we love.

It doesn't matter if we'd disappear for good.

And yet, our friend comes to find us. Shining brighter than ever.

Saying they wants to be our friend. No matter how broken we are.

That's our friend. Wanting to give us everything, even though we ourselves can give nothing in return.

How could one bear such a debt of gratitude?

- - -

Do you know this debt of friendship?

[starlightazriel]

bee 4

desc: (fem reader) modern au best friends to lovers, roommate az, angsty + smutty, multiple parts

warnings: 18+, drug/alcohol abuse, angst, az being slightly violent/dark/dominating and self destructive, TOXIC MASCULINITY, girls kissing girls, adolescent fluff, reader is insecure, very light public smut, az being a hoe (I know it hurts me too)

a/n: awwww snap

wc: 3.8k

other parts can be found on my azriel masterlist

four

"Im sure you just misheard him Kat for the millionth time," I sighed heavily, peering at my reflection in Kats mirror. The past few weeks had consisted of relentless torture. First was the torture of being almost uncontrollably horny for Azriel every single waking moment of the day. Second was the torture of him not really being around since he had tattooed me. And third was the torture of Kat not leaving me alone about Azriel apparently saying that I was his when Riley and him were arguing about who was going to do my tattoo.

Az was busy. With the anniversary of the shop coming up next week and Rhys selecting him to represent the shop for the upcoming tattoo event where he would compete with the other artists around the area... He just wasnt home. I would see him quickly in the morning, we would do that thing that we did where I would try my best not to stare at his morning wood, he would smirk and give me a friendly hug goodbye that would linger for too long. And then I would watch him leave out the door.

"I didnt mishear him y/n! He said it, and he meant it! He wants you," Kat urged as she looks at both of our reflections in the mirror, she fixed my dress, smiling proudly at me. "Rhys and I talked about it, everyone can see this shit except for you," her matter of fact tone had me whirling.

"Kat what? You can't talk to his friends about this," I winced slightly, thinking about what that conversation could have looked like.

"Rhys is my friend too, you know?" She rolled her eyes at me, reaching up to fix a piece of my hair, I swatted her away. "Rhys thinks Az just cares about you, and hes not used to fucking people that he cares about so obviously Bee its going to scare him. You know what hes been through and...You two are obviously in love with each other, anyone with eyes can see that,"

"You guys need to stop talking about us behind our backs," I mumbled quietly, but her words stuck with me. The fact that Rhys had said that had to mean something, he knew Az as well as me... Maybe certain dark parts of Az better than me. "Hes not in love with me."

Of course I knew Azriel cared about me, he always had, but it had always been platonic. It made sense, of course he would be scared of leaving our comfort zone, the one place for both of us since we'd met that we could be ourselves that we didnt have to pretend or put on a show for anyone else. We had been each others safe space for years, and it wasnt like I wasnt afraid either... I was mostly just in denial after loving him for years, pining after him, watching him with gorgeous incomparable older girls and then women when we grew up. It was completely unbelievable for me to think that Azriel was actually looking at me as anything more than just the girl that moved in next store that would never leave his side.

"So then do what I say tonight and then if nothing happens I'll shut up and leave both of you alone about it for the rest of your lives!" Kat had not shut up about her plan for me to seduce Azriel and then make him so jealous that he would fly into my arms tonight while we were all out celebrating the upcoming anniversary and Azriels portfolio making the top ten best tattoo artists in the area for the event they were doing.

"Im not just going to seduce him Kat," I said the word like it was dirty as I stared back at my pathetic reflection in the mirror. I wanted to change out of the ridiculously tiny dress that she had me in. "If it happens between us I want it to be natural, I don't want to force anything," I sighed softly, repeating what I had been saying for days just in different words.

"You won't be forcing anything. It's called making the first move! Strong women have been doing it for decades," she giggled softly and I rolled my eyes at her again, giving her a look before looking back at my reflection.

"I don't even look like myself," I complained quietly, staring at myself in the mirror. The dress was tiny, she had lined my lips and put gloss on them, some fake eyelashes, blush, contour. "I look like a damn clown Kat," I grimaced wondering what Azriel would even think when he saw me. I never wore anything more than lip gloss and mascara, I felt completely ridiculous, and I also didn't know how I was going to walk in the heels she had given me.

"The sexiest clown I've ever seen," she giggled in response and hooked her arm into mine, pulling me away from the mirror.

-

When my eyes landed on Azriel at the bar my stomach churned. Dressed to impress. He wore black jeans, a black vintage looking button up t shirt with the first few buttons undone, his chains hanging on his chest, his rings on his fingers... When he wanted to he knew how to look good, and he looked so damn good. Not that he ver didnt look good but you could always tell when he really made an effort. Fresh line up, his black slightly wavy hair falling over his forehead, his delicious jaw, perfectly golden brown skin with tattoos everywhere. My lips parted, noticing a new one curling up the side of his neck. I wanted to kiss it. I wondered when he got it and turned to ask Kat but she was already talking to some guy.

I pursed my lips, my eyes drifting back to Azriel, our eyes locked as he had been looking at me already, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. He watched me curiously, and I bit my lip, feeling naked under his gaze like usual. "See he's already looking," Kat interrupted, her voice sounding slightly giddy. "Let's grab some drinks!" She tugs me along toward the bar, toward Azriel, but we end up on the opposite side of the bar, his brows are drawn together slightly as he watches us. Rhys and Cass were next to him, they could be heard across the bar yelling loudly about some bet that they had made between each other, Az was quiet as usual though, and he was watching me.

I wanted nothing more than to go say hello after having barely seen him, but Kat had told me that it was very important that I let him approach me first tonight, even if I'd be making the first move. I was only going along with her dumb plan so she would see how dumb it actually was and finally leave me alone about Azriel. Kat ordered us chilled tequila shots for the first round and we clinked our glasses together. "It's crazy not to go say hi to him, I've never done that before," I say to Kat, my eyes still landing on Azriel every few minutes, I couldn't help it.

My mouth went dry when I looked again and he was talking to someone now, a woman, he glanced back at me again but then quickly back to the woman in front of him. She looked gorgeous from what I could tell, even though her back was facing me, a pang of jealousy hit my gut. This is so stupid.

"I promise its going to be fine," she laughed before waving over some of her other friends she introduced me to her friends Lily and Lylah, they were twins, almost identical, gorgeous... But I couldn't seem to focus on any conversation they were having, I was too busy being distracted by Azriel who was still speaking to the random woman across the bar. He didnt look particularly interested, but he smiled at her and my gut wrenched.

Shot after shot and I was getting anxious I knew it wasnt horribly out of the ordinary for Kat and I to be off on our own when we were out, she had always told me we'd never bag anyone if the boys were looming over our shoulders. Usually we at least said hi though.

"Dance with me for a little!" Kat giggled, her words slurred from all the tequila shots we had been doing.

"Kat you know I don't-" I tried to protest but she was already dragging me into the throng of bodies surrounded by the DJ's station. "Our friendship is starting to feel like a lot of you dragging me into anything," I shout over the music dramatically, but I couldn't help but smile as I kept my eyes on Kat, trying to pretend it was just her and I in her living room.

"There you goooo y/n," Kat laughs softly pulling me closer to her, I just laugh and shake my head, thankful for all the liquor in my system giving me the courage to dance with her. I glanced back at Azriel, there was no way I was forgetting he was there, especially since he was talking to someone.

"Doesn't seem like its wor-" I started to say but Im interrupted by Kats lips on mine. "Kat what are you-" I tried to say but she's kissing me, her arms are still around me, one of her hands finding my hair. I couldn't help it as I kissed her back, her lips were so soft, and she tasted like strawberry lip gloss.

"I had to," she laughed casually as she pulled away, her fingers pulling from my hair.

"You're crazy," I laughed, my heart still racing the tiniest bit from the surprise of her kiss. The rush. I glanced back at Azriel, who wasnt even looking at the woman speaking to him, his eyes were fixed on me, brows drawn slightly together.

"Only a little bit, you look too damn good tonight not to get a kiss, even if it isn't the kiss you deserve I had to give you a little sugar," she giggled again, her words slurring slightly as she looked at me with hazy eyes.

"Good thing I have you," I said and laughed, spinning her around on the dance floor even though it definitely wasnt the song for it.

"May I?" the scent of his cologne fills my nostrils and my eyes lift to meet gorgeous amber colored ones.

"May you..?" I stuttered slightly blinking up at him, tall, clean cut, red hair, pale skin, piercing eyes and devilishly handsome. His clothing and jewelry looked like it would cost me a years worth of shifts at the bar. Kat drops her jaw at me behind his back in approval, her eyebrows drawing together before she quickly said she was going to get us drinks and she wouldn't be far, the man didnt even bat an eye or look at her for that matter.

"Dance with you? Buy you a drink? Kiss you the way your friend just did?" He asks, his voice smooth and seductive, I almost would have fell for it if it wasnt for his cockiness.

"You're just assuming that she's not my girlfriend," I retorted, arrogance emanated from him... But it was kind of sexy. He was way, way out of my league though.

"Oh?" He cocked his head to the side, his eyes twinkling with amusement, he obviously liked this game. "She's your girlfriend? Then why did she leave you here?"

I opened my mouth to say something but closed it quickly because I couldn't think of anything to say. My eyes met with Azriels, he was gripping the glass in his hand tightly, his jaw clenched as he glanced between me and whoever the man in front of me was.

-

"Is there something more interesting behind me?" the annoying voice asked, Azriel couldn't even remember her name even though she had given it to him maybe twenty minutes ago? He didnt even know how long it had been that she had been here pestering him, however long it was too long.

"Everything behind you is more interesting," he muttered, his eyes only flicking to hers for a second before back to Bee and Eris, the fuck was he even doing here anyway? Azriel already knew the answer to that though, he was sniffing out all the dumbasses with empty pockets he could find to run his product around the city. Azriel only knew this because Eris was his dealer.

"Asshole," the woman whirled on her heels and stormed away but Azriel didnt even bother to look at her again. The fuck did Eris want with Bee. Probably that fucking dress she was wearing. What had Kat even been thinking? Dressing her up and parading her around like some kind of toy, kissing her. His throat felt so dry and his blood felt so hot. The liquor coursing through his veins mixed with the lines he had done in the bathroom earlier were only enhancing his anger. A small bead of sweat formed on his temple and before he could stop himself he was up, the barstool he had been sitting on nearly tipping over at his carelessness. Azriel pushed past the crowd his face feeling hot and red, his eyes narrowed, focusing on Bee as she smirked up at Eris.

"Fuck you doing?" were the only words that left Azriels mouth as he grabbed Bee by her arm and yanked her hard. She squeaked out his name in surprise and protest stumbling backward and almost falling but he made sure that she didnt.

"Azriel?" Eris speaks, his eyebrows drawing together as he watched Azriel manhandle her.

"She's good, Im good," his voice is almost a growl as she struggles to get out of his strong grip but hes tugging her toward the back door.

-

"Az what the fuck are you doing?!" I cry out softly the cool night breeze kissing my skin as he pulled me out of the door to the club. I was stumbling behind him, tripping over my heels, my arm was aching at his intense grip, my heart pounding in my chest. Great fucking idea Kat.

"No, Bee, what the fuck are you doing?" He whirls, pushing me back and my body hits the wall on alleyway to the club, my head smacking gently against the cool brick. Azriel wraps his hand around my throat, gently squeezing, my lips part in surprise, my toes curling involuntarily.

"Azriel, ow, fuck," my head was spinning, a mixture of shock from Azriels behavior and all of the liquor in my system.

"What the fuck are you doing Bee?" He repeats, his eyes boring in to mine, his hazel eyes were dark, blank except for rage, his breathing was heavy, chest rising and falling quickly. "When did you start letting Kat dress you up like a fucking slut?" he presses, his fingers tightening around my throat, my heart is pounding, my pussy throbbing and leaking in my panties as I stared up at him. "Who the fuck even are you? You can't even say hi to me? Kissing Kat like a fucking whore on the dance floor, batting your fucking eyelashes and smiling at Eris like youre fucking easy, hes my fucking coke dealer Bee, are you that naive?" he was so close, I could feel his breath on my skin, smell all the fucking liquor he had drank. I was stunned, Azriel had never spoken to me like this. Never put his hands on me in this rough... Claiming way. I was reeling, my nipples ached as our chests brushed with each breath we took.

"Az, I-" I breathed, my eyes flicking down to his lips, back up to his eyes. I knew I should be angry at him, I knew I should push him away and yell at him for the way he had treated me. But I couldn't, I could never push him away, and there was some part of me that liked every second of it. I needed more.

"Im going fucking crazy," he breathed out, almost as if he was realizing where we were, who I was. His fingers loosened around my throat and I didnt hesitate, I kissed him. My entire body melted, leaning into him, embracing him as his hand moved from my throat and into the back of my hair, tightening and tugging there. I moaned as his arm snaked around my waist, pulling our bodies flush, I could feel his hard cock pressing through his pants. I whimpered softly as he slid his tongue into my mouth, the way he kissed me was so needy and feral.

My head was spinning, I couldn't believe it was finally happening. He was kissing me, touching me. His hands were everywhere now, desperately trying to get to know my body, I moaned again, tipping my head back as he slid his fingers under my dress and over my soaking wet panties. He cursed quietly under his breath, his lips moving over my neck, sucking gently as he rubbed me through my underwear. I moaned, rocking my hips back and forth against his fingers until I was coming completely undone in my panties. I gasped softly as Azriel pulled away, confusion covering my face, feeling almost empty with out him there, against me. Like he had ripped warmth itself away from me.

"Az why did you sto-" I can't finish my sentence because I notice his face, my cheeks heat with embarrassment.

"Bee youre too drunk, Im drunk.. I shouldn't have put my hands- We just can't do this-" Azriel struggled for words, I felt tears sting at my eyes. His throat bobbed, his eyes becoming so distant. I hadn't seen that look in a while.

"Az-" I tried again but he just shook his head, his jaw flexing nervously.

"Im sorry Bee. Go back inside," his eyes are guarded, hes lighting a cigarette now, looking anywhere but me. I opened my mouth to say something but he turns and walks away, leaving me feeling humiliated in the alley way. I turned, and practically ran back inside, tears rolling down my cheeks as I tried to find Kat I had to leave, now.

-

Azriel nearly stumbled out of the car, his current double vision not doing anything to help his balance. He hadn't wanted to fuck anyone else besides Bee since he'd walked in on her in his room. He was realizing now, that he couldn't do that. He cared about her too much, so much that he had hurt her.

Even if she wanted to. Even if she was doing all this dumb little shit to get his attention, he couldn't allow it. He put his hands on her, he had hurt her. And what had she done? She kissed him. Because she saw him, she knew that wasnt really him. She knew the real him before all the drugs before all the mindless sex and the ego boost he had gained from tattooing. It scared the absolute shit out of him. He knew he would have to change for her, he knew accepting the way he felt would make him want to change. He couldn't believe weeks ago he had been thinking about actually fucking her. His kiss with Bee was replaying over and over in his head, how could he stay away knowing what it felt like to kiss her but still not knowing what her pussy tasted like?

His thoughts had him walking more swiftly to the door and he stopped, rubbing his face to try and compose himself and not seem too blasted out of his mind. He rang the door bell and waited for only a few moments before Cecille appeared before it, her wrapped up in a bonnet for sleep, a matching silk robe draping over her naked body.

"Azriel?" she asks, her voice cool and disinterested but her eyes lit up. "I told you never to come without calling, my husband could be here," she tilts her head, looking down her nose at him.

"Is he?" he asked, his eyes settling on her breasts, he couldn't help but compare them to Bee. It made his ears hot.

"No," she responds, a smile tugging at her lips, the wrinkles by her eyes becoming more pronounced. He invites himself in then, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it.

"So get on your knees," he commanded, resting his hands on her shoulders and coaxing her down to the floor.

Azriel watched boredly as she sucked him off, his fingers gripping her hair and pushing her deeper onto him, watching her choke and gag. Normally this would have made him feel better, it would have made him forget whatever he was worried about.

Nothing... Not even this could get his mind off of Bee.

-

"Az we need to do something," her eyes welled up with tears, she hugged her body, peering at him as they sat on the hill next to the school.

"I told you Im fine, there's nothing to do Bee," Azriel shrugs, ripping up pieces of grass, tossing them in front of them.

"There has to be something," she raises her voice, staring at him, she was angry and she didnt understand how he wasnt. His lip was fat and bloody his nose bruised and swollen but it was nothing compared to the giant bruise that covered his ribcage. "We can talk to the principal and they can help us with the police-"

"No cops Bee," he cuts her off, his tone somber and serious, but his eyes softened at the sight of her. It warmed something deep inside of him to know that someone cared about him. Actually wanted to help him. "I'll end up in foster care, it's worse. Ive been there," he adds, sighing quietly and rising to his feet.

"I just hate this Az, I hate seeing you hurt. I hate that they can just do that to you and nothing ever happens to them," she looks up at him, her knees hugged to her chest. He winces slightly at the sight of her crying, he hated that.

"Im seriously fine, Im used to it," he shakes his head, holding his hand out to help her up, she doesn't budge. "I can't go into foster care because then I'll never see my best friend Bee again," he tries again, smiling down at her, he needed her to stop crying, it bothered him so much.

"You shouldn't be used to it, and we would find a way to stay in contact," she argues, her eyebrows drawing together as she looks up at him in frustration.

"No cops Bee," he repeats, and she sighs in defeat, looking away from him. His hand is still extended to her, waiting. "Come on. Cheer up," he urges, sighing heavily. "Ice cream?" she finally turns to look back up at him and reluctantly takes his hand with tearstained cheeks.

"Fine, not today Az, but some day we are doing something."

-

a/n: </3

comment if you'd like to be tagged in the next part *** very quickly stoned proof READ ILL GET TO IT fr LMK IF YOU SEE MISTAKES

@smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria

[bigkingxl0]

Something I love? Mutual slobiness. Me and another kinkster just letting ourselves go, stuffing each other and ourselves with all our trigger foods, sweet, salty, cheesy, greasy, it doesn't matter, it's all getting consumed. After that we'd lounge around on the couch, pants unbuttoned so our bloated, gurgling bellies hang out, as we sit in front of the TV. You can barely even hear what the show is saying over the near constant belching and farting. Maybe at some point we start getting off, shamelessly pleasuring ourselves to our own disgusting sounds and smells, and eventually climax, adding what will just be more stains to the rancid, filthy couch cushions. Finally, sweaty and stinky and satisfied, we fall asleep, cuddling up and letting out those last few puffs of gas

Now that's the ideal life. Pantry and cabinets full of treats and sweets plus greasy fast food on speed dial. The room already full of empty chip bags and ice cream tubs. Too fat to watch TV, too fat to do anything but gorge more and get off to it. Obviously this isn't the first time. It won't be the last, either. Your lives simply reduced to hedonistic gluttony and pleasure and sin. How far will you go? How much will you push each other? Could you stop even if you wanted to? Or are you destined to turn your fatty brain to mush, day after day, from the constant assault of dopamine and complete lack of nutrients? Look what you've already done to yourselves. Corrupting each other in an endless self feedback loop. Imagine how much worse you'll be when you give in completely.

[lesbojournals]

Three's A Crowd (Stucky x Reader)

Nobody at the Avengers compound knew about you, Steve, and Bucky. In fact, not even Bucky and Steve knew you were seeing them both. To be fair, you started your…situationship with them both on the terms that it wasn’t just them you were seeing, and that you weren’t ready to commit to a relationship yet.

It’s just that neither of them knew who was the other you were referring to. Or so you thought.

The night started like any other, you were in your sweats and a tank (your usual pajamas) in the kitchen making a bowl of ice cream for yourself. You added some whipped cream to your dessert and nearly jumped out of your sweatpants when a pair of hands met you from behind.

“How’s it going babygirl?” Bucky teased you, taking your spoon and eating some of your ice cream.

You jokingly scoffed, taking the spoon back. “Get your own ice cream, Buck.”

“What’s this I hear about ice cream?” Someone called, and that’s when the smile on your face was wiped clean off.

Steve entered the room, joyfully at first, until he made sight of Bucky’s hands around your waist. His eyes turned dark and he looked at Bucky, who just smirked back.

“So…” He started. “This is who you’ve been seeing.”

You pulled yourself out of Bucky’s arms. “I can explain-”

“No need.” Bucky interrupted. “We’ll be in my room.”

And with that note Bucky walked away from you and towards Steve, giving him a painstakingly long kiss before dragging him off and away from the kitchen.

The whole event shocked you so much you didn’t even notice you’d been making an “o” face, AND had dropped your spoon on the floor.

Your mind was swimming with questions, and without even thinking about your ice cream you left it behind, practically running to Bucky’s room.

“What’s going on?” You demanded as you entered, walking in on Steve and Bucky in a beautifully posed make out session.

Bucky had a small smile and Steve smirked at you.

“What do you mean, beautiful?” Steve asked.

You stammered as you came up with what to say next, the “guns blazing” technique not working to the best of its abilities. “Did you both know this whole time? Were you playing some weird twisted game on me? Are you two dating? Literally Steve, tell me, what’s going on?”

“Well,” Bucky spoke first, sitting up. He caused the blanket to shift down, making you just now realize they were both shirtless. “We kinda figured it out ourselves from the beginning–you weren't being very slick. Thought confronting you about it should come organically.”

Steve added to his comments. “Plus, we'd always been seeing each other. Hard to believe you hadn't noticed.”

“We thought you were just teasing us–” Bucky continued. “...turns out you're just a little lacking in observation.”

It was like a quick montage of moments between both Steve and Bucky flashed before your eyes. The wistful glances, the long touches, the soft smiles.

“Oh.” You were shocked by your own obliviousness. Had it really been that obvious? “I…I uh…I'm sorry.”

“What're you apologizing for beautiful?” Steve cocked his head to the side, almost daring you to look at the hickeys Bucky had clearly left behind.

You looked down at the ground, blush rising to your ears. “I shouldn't have been messing with you guys if you're a couple. I should've realized sooner.”

“Don't be stupid.” Bucky quipped. “You think either of us would have gotten with you if we didn't want to?”

“I…I don't understand.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “We want you to join us. Be with us. Romantically.”

Steve rushed to add more. “You don't have to say yes if you don't want to. Don't feel pressured. But just know that the option is out there.”

You took a deep breath. “Yea I…I think I'd like that.”