#Try to make a game jam game sometime

[alexis-royce]

i hope this isn’t a terribly invasive question but i toottally understand if it is and in that case im really sorry but i don’t know who else to ask so i’ll just go ahead w it: how do u support urself while doing stuff creatively ?? i admire a lot of your work (your fics and ur games — i loved serialized killer i played it like ten times xD both the art and the writing 🤌🏾🤌🏾) and i’d love to be able to do the stuff you do in the future, but i’m honestly terrified of the ‘starving artist’ thing :,D

Hey there! It's an okay question, and truth be told, I used to try to be really encouraging to people, because I want to see a lot of fun and small art. But as I get older, I want to try to be honest about it all, too.

Going to college wasn't especially helpful. Five years post-college, I was lucky to make the switch to full-time art.

Currently, my income comes from a mixture of conventions, Patreon, commissions, and game sales. I also live with my spouse Tsushi, who covers half the bills, and we don't live in a major city or expensive area. We planned a lot of stuff to keep our cost of living on the dirt cheap side.

Right now, I wouldn't say that I'm barely scraping by. Lots of people have it way, way worse than us, and I wouldn't be able to do this without favors and help from friends and family. But I do know that I'm overworked to an unhealthy extent, I haven't taken a real vacation in years, and if I stop overworking, I will lose the momentum that I currently have. Actually, switching to visual novels instead of webcomics WAS me trying to take care of myself.

I would highly advise that you enjoy your art as a hobby. It doesn't have to be a permanent decision! Building up a portfolio or an itch page is something that takes time, and that's how you'll find an audience. Even if you could drop twelve showstopper games in a weekend, it would likely take a while for those games to percolate through the community. I know it's not what you want to hear. But trust me: I've hung out socially with lots of folks who range from middling to INTENSELY popular, and overnight mainstream success is horrible for a person's soul, especially if it happens to you in your 20s.

I'm not starving, but I do eat a lot of bulk rice in my diet. XD I'm not living in squalor, but I miss when I could afford to go to GenCon. If my gamble on the VNs doesn't work, I might just end up picking up a day job of my own and having to spend nights working on stuff again, instead. Nothing's really certain. But for now, I'm doing the best that I can with the games and stories I can tell, and I'm deeply grateful for the patrons who keep my weird little raft afloat.

[dmclemblems]

the most beautiful thing in my life is that by having fe4 on my switch, i can bring it with me anywhere and it never has to leave my side ever again

e v e r

my real life is just now beginning, i see

[belphies-cowgirl]

obey me headcanons pt. 4

word count: 5K+ (oops went a little overboard, hope this doesn't flop though)

Lucifer

he has his records organized alphabetically (Satan & Belphie rearrange them at least once a month) 

he once stood in the kitchen at 3 am cutting up fruits and veggies into pretty designs for his brothers to eat for breakfast (even princess's poison apples in the shape of cats for Satan) but they all assumed you made them and you just agreed while half asleep at the table.

Mammon 

keeps all the notes you take for him in class in a folder hidden in the back of his closet (he never bothered to study half of them) 

shoves hell-sauce-flavored ramen cups under his couch when he doesn't feel like throwing them away. you found them all one time and he was so embarrassed and stuttering so much you thought he was gonna pass out. 

Levi 

dusts his figurines twice a week and has to have his manga lined up neatly in numerical order by series (he WILL hover while you put back one of his mangas that you borrowed)

once fainted when you came into his room cosplaying as one of his favorite characters. poor baby needed a few days to recover after that. but you looked so perfect wearing it and it made his heart explode on sight.

he is crazy talented at digital art, it's a secret hobby of his. you just assume he orders digital prints of your favorite characters off akuzon for you. but he's too shy and embarrassed to tell you he's the one who made them. he thinks you'll reject them if you find out. but it's just another way he shows his love for you, even if you don't know about it. 

Satan 

has cat hair all over his room (obviously) and used-up lint rollers under his bed. he wears a sweater and acts like no one can see all that cat hair.

has specific bookmarks for each genre, but he'll replace some of them with any bookmarks you make/give him. his favorite is the cat bookmark with a bell tied at the end of the string you got him for his birthday (sometimes he shakes the book to hear it jingle)

Asmo 

signs his name in cursive with a little heart after the "o"

sometimes he rubs his nose against yours and then walks away. don't question why, he doesn't need a reason to show you his undying love and affection.

he once shrieked when he found out Beel had accidentally eaten one of his bath bombs. that must explain why Beel sneezed glitter in the common room later that night. 

Beel 

keeps the receipts from all of the places you've both eaten at together.

loves it when you bring home leftover jam/sauce packets for him (he loves the mini-apocalyptic apple ones) 

loves it when you pack extra snacks into his duffle before Fangol games. he'll sit on a bench in the locker room after a game and happily munch on them while blushing. you're so sweet for always doing that, he'll reward you with forehead kisses when he gets back to the HoL.

Belphie 

will surprisingly spend time reorganizing his bed in the attic because he stole more of your plushies and has to make room for them (he picks one to curl up with each week) he refuses to give them back but will pout and whine when you say you want them back. if you try to take one back while he's napping his tail will reach out for it and hide it under the covers.

is a little shit (a brat and a menace but anyways <3) he'll whine when you try to get up from under the covers or if you move too much in your sleep. he'll wrap his tail around your leg or waist to keep you from moving. you went to stand up one time and fell forward because his tail was wrapped tightly around your ankle. he glared at you, scoffed, then rolled over, mumbling about how you're always so noisy and clumsy. 

Diavolo 

used to feed the Little D's. Barbatos found out about it because they kept leaving crumbs behind, and later scolded Diavolo and the Little D's. 

keeps a little figurine you got him as a good luck charm on his desk while he does paperwork. sometimes it distracts him because he'll glance at it and start smiling like an idiot just thinking about you, he always shoots you a text afterward.

Barbatos

listens to metal/rock and I refuse to believe otherwise.

sometimes lets the Little D's listen to music while they attend to their daily duties. they'll end up singing and dancing, but one glance from him and they get back to work immediately. 

Simeon 

leaves cute little notes in your locker or slips them into your textbooks/notebooks for you to find later in class. "good luck on your exam today! :)" or if he's feeling romantic, "you look even more ethereal than usual today <3" he has so much romantic rizz and is completely oblivious about it most of the time. like yeah, you totally just swooned and blushed for no reason.

has really good memory. he'll remember almost anything you say or do, but won't remember anything when it comes to technology. he'll be sitting next to you and randomly bring up the most specific thing that you did two months ago on a Friday. yet he can't remember how to check his call log or change a contact picture (he tries to change yours a lot because he just can't decide which picture to use, they're all so perfect)

Solomon 

drinks tea and coffee out of flasks and beakers sometimes because he's too lazy to wash a few mugs. 

he’s basically “malewife” material, but he does NOT need to be in the kitchen. there's a reason why you carry a mini container of antacids with you. he'll lowkey pout when he notices you keep making excuses for not eating his food. come on, one bite won't hurt, he put so much love into that oozing sandwich that just moved a little bit on the plate.

lets you doodle on his notes during class (he teases you about it every time) he writes around the doodles and will cut them out once he no longer needs the notes. he uses them as bookmarks or keeps them in his little memento box. he's the type to keep movie tickets and polaroids with the date written on the back. he kept a polaroid of you making a surprised face when you realized he was taking a picture of you sitting on his bed wearing a facemask and snacking while scrolling on your D.D.D. 

Luke 

keeps a mini first-aid kit in his backpack. did you get a papercut? he's got a bandaid on standby.

he’ll sometimes leave a sweet treat in your locker for you to eat during lunch (in a tupperware container in case you wanna save it for later) he's so precious and puts so much love into his baking.

hides frosting tubes in his nightstand drawer. will throw them all away in a random trashcan at RAD when he's finished with them. can't have Simeon questioning the sudden pile of frosting tubes in the trashcan, which are coincidentally Luke's favorite flavors.

✄ ——————————————————————

feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me a message, or an ask <3

please do not use my work as your own! 

m.list

[popironrye]

The Lost Boys + Star

Dating Headcanons

💋 David 💋

As a people watcher, his partner is never too far away from his sight.

While he has a reputation to keep in public on the boardwalk, he's very affectionate when you're alone.

Is in denial about being touch starved.

He loves hugs, even if you have to initiate them most of the time.

When chilling in the cave, wherever he's sitting, he insists you sit right on his lap so he can wrap his arms around your waist.

While you are in public together though, he likes to hold your hand.

He's not very good at it, but he will happily oblige to giving you massages if you ask nicely.

If you didn't have earrings before, he'd offer to pierce them for you.

One word. Blindfolds.

The quickest way to turn David on is tell him you want to lay blind on the bed completely at his mercy.

He's got a lace kink.

That new lingerie you bought. He'll compose himself while you're showing it off, but you won't be wearing it long.

💀 Dwayne 💀

Quickest way into his heart is through Laddie.

He'll watch with a huge smile on his face as you play games and buy carnival snacks with Laddie.

He's the piggy back king. He doesn't need an excuse to carry his partner around on his back.

He'll also carry you upright sitting on his shoulders when you're feeling ambitious.

It always works cause he's a thigh man. Sometimes you convince him to carry you with Laddie sitting on your shoulders like a totem pole when your out on the boardwalk.

He's not one to engage in conversations first, but he's a great listener.

There isn't a single word that comes out of your mouth that he isn't noting down in his memory. Make an off comment about a thing you like, he'll gift it to you. Complain about a minor inconvenience, he'll fix it. Mention you've always wanted to try something in passing, it's your next date night.

Loves it when you play with his hair. He'll purposely sit in front of you in hopes you'll just absent mindedly start running your fingers through it. All you have to do is pat your lap, and he'll lay his head in it for hair play.

Will go feral if he sees you in thigh highs. Doesn't matter if they're lace, fish nets, or cotton socks it drives him nuts. You wear them specifically to get him hot and it works every single time.

While he's the more dominant one in the bedroom, he loves it when you're on top.

🌿 Paul 🌿

Music lover

Will make his partner mix tapes.

Can play the guitar and loves to sing to you.

If you also play an instrument, he will wanna jam with you.

Most handsy, so expect a lot of PDA

When walking, he's the boyfriend with his arm around his partner's shoulders at all times.

When you're on the boardwalk together, he likes to stand behind you with his arms around you. Pulling your back against his chest as close as he can. He'll hold your hands from behind, usually with your arms crossed, sway in place, and place kisses to your forehead and cheeks. There's no doubt to anyone watching that you are his.

Picks all the best movies to watch, just ends up making out with you throughout the whole thing anyway.

Leather kink.

His favorite place to focus on is your midriff. He'll stroke, kiss, and nibble every spot while enjoying you wriggling under him. Bonus points if your ticklish.

🪶 Marko 🪶

Animal lover

Will convince you to take every animal you like home only for one of the boys to tell you to take it back. Star will let you keep them though.

Guard dog energy

Will pick fights with anyone for your honor, whether you need it or not.

He's an artist. Can paint, wood carve, and sow. Once you join the boys and become a vamp, the jacket they gift you was sewn by him.

Loves styling your hair. Doesn't matter what you ask him. Dye it? He'll do it. Cut it, absolutely. Just brush it, he'll get every tangle out.

He'll do your makeup for you too.

Will paint on your naked body. It's not even a sex thing, he just likes the challenge of trying to paint on you while squirming. (Although it's incredibly arousing to him too)

Even though the vamps sleep upside down, Marko will take naps with his head tucked snuggling in your chest. It's not only cause he's a breast man, but he loves hearing the beat of your heart. It makes it even better when the rhythm speeds up when he mumbles affirmations of love to you.

He loves you in baggy clothing, especially if it's his clothing. The hottest look for him is to have you walk around in an old baggy jacket with nothing underneath.

✨️ Star ✨️

Occult af. Will do tarot card readings.

Like David, she's a people watcher but when dating her attention is only on you.

She watches you like you're the only person in the world.

Cuddle bug!

Loves to walk around with her arm hooked around yours.

She's truly the rock everyone needs. Ready to give out the best comfort when you're feeling sad.

Borrows your clothes; especially coats, jackets, and baggy hoodies.

Will wear anything that smells like you.

Calls you pet names in Spanish.

Doesn't wear nail polish, but she'll paint yours.

Will make the two of you matching jewelry to wear.

Won't ever admit it to the others, but she loves marking her partner in hickeys. Any spot of exposed skin is free real estate when you're kissing to suck a bruise into.

Will use candle wax when intimate.

Finally got around to making a headcanon list for the lost boys! Please let me know if you got any more ideas you think I missed or just tell me your thoughts on what I came up with.

[farmerstarter]

Hi!! Could you do Sam HCs? It can be literally anything. I just love him so much :)

ʚ🛹ɞ ˚ · . Random Sam Headcanons

Tags: Sam from SDV x gn! reader

Hi! I'm so sorry for the super super super late response. Life has been pretty busy for the past few months and I haven't had the time to get on Tumblr. But, I'm slowly coming back to it! Anyway, likes and reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy, loves! 🌷🫶

🎸 He was absolutely thrilled when you asked him to teach you how to skateboard. He immediately came knocking on your door the first thing in the morning the day after you brought it up, carrying his skateboard and some gear. You two spent the whole day going over the basics, with Sam holding your hands and trying not to laugh when you would scream over the tiniest things (“I’m going to die, Sam!” “It’s just a pebble!”). A cute add-on: Vincent and your pet would tag along sometimes, and they took it upon themselves to be your personal cheerleaders. After some time and a few bumps and bruises, you and Sam would often skateboard all around the town, trying to impress each other with tricks. Sam has your name etched on his skateboard, and you have his name on yours.

🎸 Personal HC where Sam and Vincent stumbled inside the fruit bat cave while they were visiting. Sam got bit by a bat, nothing too serious. Vincent is horrified, and Sam decided to mess with him by pretending to be a vampire. Suspiciously, you find yourself missing a jar of your homemade jam. Turns out, Sam “borrowed” it (And by that, I mean he scribbled a little note on the place where your jam used to be), and covered it all over his face pretending it’s blood. He got a big scolding from Jodi right after though.

🎸 Sam and Krobus friendship, Sam and Krobus friendship, Sam and Krobus friendship! It all started when Sam looked into the sewer to show Vincent that no, there is no monster in the sewage canal. He was soon face to face with a shadow man and it was over. Krobus has a knack for beating the hard levels on Sam's video game and their friendship budded from there. Sometimes, Sam would disguise Krobus with his clothes so they can watch movies in the cinema together. You found out about them when you walked in on Sam trying to teach Krobus how to play the drums in the greenhouse.

🎸 Sam asked Jodi to teach him how to bake after he had the bright idea to ask you out on a picnic when you two started dating. It all started when Penny showed him those fancy little cakes that she ordered from Zuzu City as a treat for Vincent after the kid passed his math exam. Penny mentioned how you saw those cakes when she bumped into you by the bus stop and thought they were cute. Cue a light bulb in Sam’s head. Sam’s not the best cook, but he’s got the enthusiasm. He ended up with a lopsided two-tier cake with a little blob of fondant on top of it (Vincent’s lips pursed, “What’s with the brown rock?” Sam sputtered while Jodi’s laughter chittered in the air close by. “It’s a chicken!”). Sam would make up for it years later when he would remake the same cake for your wedding anniversary.

🎸 Sam would randomly call you in the middle of a rainy day and just play guitar riffs. No words exchanged. When he’s done, he will just hang up.

🎸 Sam gives you pretty seashells that he and Vincent dig up on the beach (sometimes with a little help from Elliott and Willy) instead of flower bouquets. He doesn’t want to risk sneezing all over you when the pollen would inevitably make his nose red.

🎸 Sam had a whole phase of wearing a cowboy hat when he’s working on the farm for the first few months.

[springnote]

If you are still taking asks for the Thanksgiving event, could we get some just general NSFW hcs for Jaehee, Yoosung & Saeran? Please n thank u! :3

ofc! I went ahead and included some others too, hope I did ok ^^

NSFW Headcanons

includes: Yoosung, Zen, Jaehee, 707, Jumin, Saeran, and V

warnings: nsfw minors dni, gn!reader with pussy, oral ( m and f receiving), anal, exhibitionism, degradation, edging, roleplay, dirty talk, cockwarming, breeding kink, spanking, predator/prey, daddy kink (most are just mentioned without lots of detail)

Yoosung:

• Honestly, he’s pretty submissive, and he prefers you to take the lead simply because he gets so flustered around you

• He likes having you suck him off under the table while he games too, the idea of trying to hide his whimpers and focus drives him wild

• He also enjoys being fingered in the ass, yeah he likes pegging and such too, but something about sticking his ass in the air while you tease and finger him does him in

• Does that mean he doesn’t like trying to take charge? Not at all, he just turns into a blubbering mess if he tries. Praise goes a long way too, a few compliments will have him rutting into your warmth

• Some days he comes home from school so worn out and needy, he’ll ask to eat you out or have you stroke him until he begs

• He’s honestly just a needy sweetheart and he’ll ask to use your chest or ass like a pillow frequently when he’s tired or take a bath together. Just give him love and he’ll do his best to make you feel good too

Zen/Hyun:

• He loves to fluster you, and he really, really likes to give and receive praise, it’s like breathing to him

• Sometimes he likes being told what to do, especially in roleplay, he likes having you tie his wrists and suck him off, he’ll whine and cum hard

• He also loves to sext and have phone sex, especially when he’s away for work, plus he knows his voice is nice and he loves teasing you with it, and sending naughty pics? That’s his jam

• He loves giving orders and he’s a boobs guy. You might find him telling you to touch your chest til you’re dripping while he praises you

• He works out plenty, so he likes taking you against the wall while wrapping your legs around him, or using his strength to lift you up and down on his cock

• A dom most of the time, but he’s a soft dom and loves just making you feel good. He loves eating you out and pampering you all night long

Jaehee:

• She loves being in charge, but specifically she loves just being able to come home and tell you what she needs or what she wants to do to you without any work or silly errands in the way

• 69 is a favorite position of hers, both of you laying on your sides in bed while she eats you up. But sitting in a chair while you get between her legs is also a favorite, it gives her a chance to grab your hair.

• She likes degradation, but she prefers to give it than receive. Edging and using nipple clamps on you also is something she loves, but she’s merciful about it.

• She has a double ended strap that she really loves, but she only uses that when she has lots of time and energy because it takes a lot out of her from all the stimulation. But it’s safe to say she likes toys

• She also has a fantasy of having sex in her office, maybe even turning her phone off so she’d miss calls and ignore her duties ( to her that’s very very naughty), but she’s shy to admit it

• Queen of aftercare. She’s researched what to do and has experience from her own self care rituals when she comes home from work. Expect to be pampered, but also be prepared to be told to eat, drink, and wash up after sex.

707/Saeyoung:

• Experimentalist is the best word for him. He’ll try almost anything, and he loves to look up new ideas to try.

• Sex is about fun and bonding to him, so if you want to have a really really intimate and serious, just let him know, he’ll take some time to get into serious mode™️

• He’s a switch because he loves trying stuff on you as much as he loves having stuff tried on him, but he prefers being in charge because it’s hard for him to tell you he has a new idea when he’s under you and spluttering

• He loves using toys on you, in the privacy of his home but also out in public if he can get away with it, the thrill of possibly getting caught turns him on so much he frequently asks for you to send him pics when you’re both working or going without underwear

• To be honest, he’s got a whole list hidden on a file somewhere of things he wants to try, but he wants to make sure you build up to them, especially if you find something you really like

• He also adores roleplaying, and trying different positions any chance possible, basically his sex life is a rollercoaster of unpredictability

Jumin:

• A dom through and through. It’s just who he is, and it feels most comfortable to him. He’s versatile with what kind of dom he is, but he doesn’t like the idea of subbing. He might try it if you really really want him to, but it will take a lot of convincing.

• He loves cockwarming, especially when he’s had a long day. He just loves being in you and filling you up. He’s also got a bit of a breeding kink

• He’s an ass man, he loves squeezing your ass and rubbing his bulge against it. Spanking is also something he enjoys, and if you slap his ass, he’ll pounce on you

• Lingerie kink for sure. Especially if it’s delicate and shows off your ass. He loves tearing the fabric or watching you striptease

• He says filthy things, always growling dirty thoughts into your ear during sex. But he’ll also whisper sweetly about how much he wants you when you’re out

• What really gets him going is when you just call him Jumin. He rarely hears someone say his first name so sweetly, and it nearly makes him tear up if you call him that and say you love him during intimacy

Saeran:

• He loves both of you just laying naked on the bed, letting him run his hands over your body and hold you close. He’s touched starved and this is already a lot to take in at once.

• Once he’s feeling bolder, he likes to leave bites all over you, especially on your chest. And he’d love to get you a choker to wear to cover any neck bites he leaves, but have it just small enough that someone might see

• He likes to finger you with leather gloves on, and then have you lick them clean. He’s not sure why but he just loves it. He’d also like to see you in some leather lingerie, but only if he can peel it off you.

• He likes degradation, but he’s very picky about it. He won’t call you dumb or pathetic, even if its something you want, he’s worried he’ll hurt your feelings.

• If you’re up to it, he’d kind of be into a bit of predator/prey. Something like him chasing or following you and then taking you to his room to claim, but he wants to make sure you’re well into your relationship by then

• Sleepy sex is also something he loves, before bed or after waking up. Of course he asks permission first and is very gentle as he’s pretty cuddly when tired, but he always makes sure to satisfy you

V/Jihyun:

• He’s not into anything really rough, especially at first because he still has a hard time with intimacy, but if he gets really going, he might go a little fast and rough but that’s it, unless you both talk it through and plan it

• He doesn’t like the idea of possibly getting caught like some of the others, but he does like the idea of having sex in nature, like a secluded field or beach. Just somewhere soft and picturesque

• Breeding kink full stop. He loves children and wants to raise some with you if you’d like, but just the idea of breeding you sets something off in him. He’ll get a bit rougher when you ask him to breed you, but then he’ll be sweeter than honey during aftercare

• He loves oral, especially if it results in you making a mess on his face or pulling his hair. He’ll melt into mush from pleasure

• He has a bit of a daddy kink and authority kink, but it embarrasses him so he gets a bit shy and flustered unless he’s really yearning. Either way his reactions are perfect

• He gets emotional and doesn’t always like talking about it, so he’ll seek physical intimacy to relax. He likes lazy sex, and cockwarming, and shower sex while you wash each other. Just be there for him and he’ll be sure to do the same

[thankskenpenders]

I'm a huge fan of Ian, but one criticism of him that I've seen that I kind of agree with is that he sometimes falls into "look how much I know about Sonic" in his writing. For example, a number of references in Frontiers like Tails namedropping Dark Gaia out of nowhere. It's a nice change of pace from Sega not knowing where they wanted to go with Sonic for like a decade, but it might be too far in the opposite direction. What do you think?

There's definitely a thin line between Ian's love of references and lore and lyric quotes being fun and grating, yeah. I think he tends to do it well, choosing things that will support and enhance the story he's trying to tell rather than just dropping random references for the sake of it, but sometimes it can kinda make me roll my eyes and go "okay, Ian, settle down buddy." He readily admits that sometimes he just really wants to play with all the toys in the toy box.

I think an example I might point do would be some of the Classic Sonic comics for IDW. The Tails special in particular felt like it relied very heavily on Ian being excited to use the Witchcarters again, and to use Flicky Island as a setting, but I felt like the story left me wanting a little more beyond just "this obscure old stuff is back again." (The art in all the Classic stuff is phenomenal, though, of course.)

Frontiers absolutely is jam packed full of references, but I think it works there because acknowledging and building off of decades of continuity is one of the main points of the story in Frontiers. It's part of a greater effort Sega has been making to acknowledge Sonic's legacy after much of the late '00s and early 2010s were spent being kind of ashamed of that stuff and trying to streamline the series. Frontiers, meanwhile, wanted to look back on all those past adventures and their inconsistent writing and figure out how to wring some proper character arcs out of them, so that the cast can reflect on those arcs and figure out what they want to do next. Mining hit-or-miss old material for a compelling throughline like that has always been something Ian's excelled at - it's literally what he did to the Archie comics when he started out - and having the characters acknowledge their past adventures is a part of that. It gives us a sense that Sonic and co. really have gone through a lot together, and that those experiences have shaped who they are today.

It's also worth remembering that a ton of more casual Sonic fans aren't as immersed in the state of the canon or Ian's referential writing style as we are. When Frontiers came out you'd see people say stuff like "OMG, Sonic mentioned Jet the Hawk!! I didn't know Sonic Riders was canon to the main series! I loved those games!" That kind of reaction is probably a big part of why those references are there. Sega wants fans to know that Sonic DOES have continuity, unlike a series like Mario where every game and sub-series is kind of its own thing, and that all the old stuff still matters. And if that's what you wanna do, then Ian's the guy for the job.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Always On the Sidelines

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: You and Jamie became close after training with the same trainer to get into the football league. However, an injury prevented you from fulfilling that dream, so you resorted to cheering Jamie on from the sidelines.

A/N: this ended up being almost 3k words because i refused to split this into two parts. omfg.

You and Jamie met because of your trainer. He double booked you and him so he decided you could just train together. It worked out so well that you two requested to continue to train with one another. Your trainer found it odd, but seeing how well you complemented each other, he relented. That's how you and Jamie became best friends.

Jamie was working to get on Man City's team and you wanted to be on the Chelsea team. You'd admitted that you wanted to be like Roy Kent. You and Jamie shared the same admiration for the man.

However, you never got your chance. A torn ACL ruined your opportunity. You were heartbroken, but that never stopped you from supporting your best friend from the sidelines.

____________________________

"WHAT THE FUCK, REF?!" you shouted as a penalty was called on Jamie. He and his teammates were shouting at the referee.

Keeley, Jamie's new girlfriend, watched you in amusement, "Didn't know you were into football like that."

You snort, "I was supposed go pro. That's how Jamie and I met, we had the same trainer. But I fucked up my leg and never got a chance."

Keeley looks at you with pity, "I'm sorry."

You shrug, "It's alright. I've accepted it, but it hasn't kept me away from the game. Clearly," you gesture to yourself and the pitch.

An hour later and the game is over. Man City won, no surprise.

You and Keeley went to the locker room to see Jamie. As soon as he saw you two, he came rushing over.

"There she is!" you prepared yourself to be tackled by Jamie like usual, but instead, he goes straight to Keeley. Of course. She's his girlfriend. Not you. Never you.

You knew you had feelings for Jamie. You had for a long time, but you never acted on them because, well, he just deserves so much better than you, a failed pro footballer. Keeley, she's much more suited for him. They make a great couple and despite wishing to be in Keeley's shoes, you don't hate her. She's so amazing and didn't see you as a threat when Jamie introduced you to her.

After spinning Keeley around, Jamie sets her down and presses a hungry kiss to her lips. You look away awkwardly.

When he pulls away, he smiles at you, "You owe me twenty quid."

You scoff, "Oh fuck off! As if you need more money!"

"We made a bet and I won!"

Keeley looks at the both of you confused, "A bet?"

You sigh, pulling out your wallet and placing the money in Jamie's outstretched hand, "We always make a bet to see how many points ahead Man City would win. I said four and Jams said two."

"And we, indeed, win by two. So thank you very much," he kisses the bills in his hand, "We're going for drinks. You comin'?" he asks as he wraps his arm around Keeley's waist.

You shake your head, "Nah."

Keeley pouts, "What? No! You should come!"

Jamie looks at you with concern, "Your leg actin' up again?" He asks that whenever you feel off. Sometimes it does start to hurt and you don't feel like being out for a long time.

"No, it's fine. Just a bit tired." He looks at you unconvinced and you roll your eyes, "Jams, seriously, I'm fine. Go have fun with the boy and," you gesture to Keeley, "makeout with your hot girlfriend."

"Yeah, alright. I'm checking up on you later though."

You roll your eyes again. He's always acted like your protector ever since your injury. It was sweet at first, but it's gotten annoying over time.

"Sure. Whatever," you hold your fist out, "Good game, Jams. Talk to you whenever." He bumps your fist and then you hug Keeley, "Have a good night. Make sure he doesn't get absolutely plastered."

"I'll try my best, babes!" she kisses your cheek and waves as you walk away.

________________________

You always felt left behind. After your injury, you watched Jamie and the rest of your friends continue on with their dreams. You were left to alternatives. Jamie continued on to greatness, still in his relationship with Keeley, and slowly leaving you behind.

You'd call and text, all were left unanswered. He stopped leaving tickets for you at the box office for his games. You didn't know what happened or what you did, but you were absolutely heartbroken.

You still watched his matches from the comfort of your home, still supporting him when he was lent to AFC Richmond. Even though he ghosted you, you still supported and cared for him.

Months later, you run into Keeley at a club, a place you usually wouldn't be at, but some coworkers dragged you out with them.

"Y/N!" Keeley squealed, running over and jugging you tight.

"Keeley! Hey! What're you doing here?"

"Just out with some friends! How've you been?!"

"What?" you couldn't hear her over the club's loud music.

"HOW'VE YOU BEEN?!"

You shake your head and slip your hand into hers, pulling her towards the back door.

You step out into the cool air, the door shutting behind you both, but the bass of the music still heard.

"Sorry, I really couldn't hear a thing."

Keeley shrugs, "It's fine," she pats your arm, "How've you been? I asked Jamie about you but he'd brush me off. Did you guys have a fight or something?"

You snort, "I wish. No, he just...ghosted me."

"He what?!"

"Yeah. I tried to get in contact with him, but nothing."

"That prick!"

You shake your head, "It's fi-"

"No, it's not! You were his best friend and you supported him through everything and he just drops you with no explanation!"

"This," you wave around her, "doesn't have to do with you and Jamie breaking up, does it?" Keeley looks at you in surprise and you shrug, "I still like to keep up on what he's doing, despite him ghosting me."

"You don't deserve that."

"And I'm sure whatever Jamie did, you didn't deserve it either, Keeley." You're surprised when she pulls you into a hug, but you just let it happen. She's always been very affectionate.

______________________

You suppose that the falling out with Jamie was a blessing in disguise. You may have lost your best friend, but you found a new one in Keeley. She made sure neither of you wallowed in sadness or self-pity. She took you out to fancy restaurants, took you on shopping sprees, you felt spoiled by her despite you objecting every time she offered to buy you something.

You felt like you came to know her pretty well, which meant when she asked you out for coffee, you could tell something was wrong.

"Whatever is going on, Keels, just tell me."

"I just don't want you to hate me."

"Why would I hate you? You're very unhate-able. Even when you were dating Jamie, I couldn't hate you!" Yes, you told her of your feelings towards Jamie. You didn't feel guilty about them anymore since they were no longer together. You admitted that you tried to not like her since she ultimately was in the position that you dreamt of being in, but she was always so nice and welcoming and understanding.

"I'm doing the PR for Richmond now!" she blurts out.

"Um, okay? Congrats and all, but why is this bad?"

"Because I'll be working around Jamie and you hate Jamie."

"Keels, I told you, I don't hate him. I was angry with him at first, yes, but I don't hate him. I don't think I ever cou-"

"Y/N? Keeley?"

You look to see Jamie standing there looking a little dumbfounded. Keeley nervously stands up, "Hey, Jamie? How's it going?"

"Nothin' much," he looks between you and her, "You're friends now?"

"We've always been kind of friends, but, uh, we've gotten a lot closer lately," Keeley replies with a polite smile.

"That's-That's good. Uh-"

"Keels, I think I'm gonna-"

"No!"

"Don't!"

Jamie and Keeley both exclaim in unison making you and everyone in the small cafe freeze for a second.

Jamie steps forward, "Actually, can we talk?"

"Sure," you follow Jamie to sit at a table outside the cafe.

Jamie's twiddling his fingers avoiding your eyes, "So...how are you?"

"I'm alright. You?"

"Could be better, honestly."

"Oh."

It's weird. You never once felt awkward in Jamie's presence, at least when it was the two of you. Now it's like you're strangers, like those years of friendship didn't happen. You never thought you'd end up here like this.

"Listen," Jamie runs his hand through his now blonde hair, "I'm sorry for ghostin' ya. It wasn't right, especially when you did nothin' wrong."

"Then what happened, Jamie? If I didn't do anything wrong, what made you drop me out of nowhere?"

He sighs, "Me dad. He got into me head and said a bunch of bullshit like I shouldn't be hanging around you anymore. That your bad luck would rub off on me. Said me getting transferred to Richmond was your fault because of your bad luck."

You scoff, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest. You never liked James Tartt Sr. From what Jamie told you, he was always an ass, but, for some reason, he still listened to him.

"I know it's not true. It's never been true. You've never been bad luck. But...the old man has always had ways of getting in me head and I just-"

"Ghosted me."

"It was wrong. Fucked up. And Keeley...she asked about you and I'd brush her off. You didn't deserve that."

"No, Jamie, I didn't, especially since I was always there for you. I was always supporting you. Even when you stopped answering my calls and leaving me tickets, I still watched your matches."

"Why?"

Because I love you. "Because you're my best friend."

"I was a prick, but-but I've been doing much better. Punched my dad in the face too."

"Good. He deserves it."

He nods, "So...we good?"

"I suppose. But if you ever do this to me again, Jamie. I'm kicking you so hard in the balls that you'll never procreate."

Jamie winces, "Yeah, alright. I hear ya."

You smirk, and hold your fist out. He bumps it with his and you two share a smile.

_________________

Things were back to how they used to be. You and Jamie texted each other every day, grabbed lunch or dinner when you could, you had movie nights, and you were at the games again to cheer Jamie on.

You cackle when Jamie hands you a kit like his, "What's this for?"

"You still collect every version of my kits, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll wear this now," you pull it over your long sleeve and do a twirl, "How do I look?"

"Fucking fit," he murmurs looking you up and down. He then clears his throat, "Um, I, gotta go. Coach does this meaningful speech before each game."

"Yeah okay. See you after then. Good luck, Jams!" you hold your fist out and he bumps it.

You watch as he walks to the locker room and you're startled when Keeley scurries over to you, "Oh. My. God! He's into you, babes!"

You look at her confused, "What? No, he isn't."

"He called you fit and he was totally checking you out! He had mad heart eyes seeing you in his kit!"

You snort and roll your eyes, "You're seeing things, Keels."

"Hell yeah, I'm seeing things! I'm seeing that Jamie Tartt is into you!" she pokes your side and then pouts, "Why aren't you happy? I thought you'd be happy about this! Isn't this what you wanted?"

"I'll be happy if he ever tells me he has feelings for me."

"When he tells you he has feelings for you. Because he does. I saw it with my own eyes." You shake your head and she huffs, "Fine, be in denial. But you owe me twenty quid when he confesses!"

"Sure, Keels."

_________________________

"Go! GO! That's it! YEEEESSS!!!" you, Keeley, Rebecca, and everyone around is hollering and jumping for joy when Jamie scores the game ends with Richmond winning.

After the game, Jamie runs up to you, twirling you around, "There she is!"

You laugh as you hold onto him, "You did great, Jams!"

"Our luck is turning around and I think I have you to thank for that."

"What? Me?"

"Yeah. Ever since you've been coming to our matches, we've been doing better than ever."

"Highly doubt that's because of me. Pretty sure it's because you and the team have worked hard to get here."

"Nah. Pretty sure it's all you," he gives you a flirtatious smirk that you've never seen directed at you before. At Keeley and other women, yeah, but never you.

"O-Oh, well, uh, you're welcome, I guess?"

"I'm gonna shower and change real quick. You're coming with me and the lads for dinner and drinks!"

"I am?"

"Yeah. You're my plus one and before you ask, Keeley is coming too."

You look at Keeley for confirmation, "Yup! I'm Roy's plus one." Because now her and Roy are a thing and you never thought they would work well together but they do and they're so cute, you could vomit.

"I should probably change then, right?" you look down at your Jamie replica kit he gave you before last week's game, paired with jeans, and coat.

Jamie shakes his head, "Nah. You look gorgeous. I'll be out in a bit!" he holds his fist out and you awkwardly bump it.

"Yeah. See you in a bit."

Keeley is bouncing in her stilettos, "Well?!"

"That means nothing. I'm going as his friend."

Keeley groans, "You're impossible!" she shakes you by the shoulders.

_____________________

Sam closed down his restaurant to the public so he can host the team and staff of AFC Richmond. The food was amazing, you loved that he shared part of his culture with everyone. After dinner, drinks were flowing and you chatted with Jamie's teammates getting to know them better.

After a while, you felt your leg starting to feel sore and you began to put your weight onto your other leg. You rode here with Jamie, you didn't want to cut his night short.

"Here," Jamie says, pulling you down onto his lap. He props your leg onto another chair and starts massaging it, all the while keeping his conversation going with Colin.

You look to Keeley, who's doing a little happy dance while Roy sips his beer and continues to glare at everyone.

"Do you wanna go home?" Jamie whispers in your ear while still massage your leg.

The intimacy catches you off guard as you stammer out, "N-No. I don't want to cut your celebration short."

"It's fine. I just don't want you in pain or nothing. I'll be seeing them tomorrow anyway." You shrug, not really sure what you should say.

"Alright, up," Jamie taps your hip and helps you up. He stands and announces his departure, "Alright, lads. I'll see you all tomorrow!"

"What? You're leaving now?" Richard asks in disbelief.

"I've had enough of ya for one day, besides, wanna spend some time with me girl," he points to you and the boys all give hoots and cheers.

"Use protection!" Keeley hollers jokingly, causing you to look at her horrified and Jamie just laughs her off.

Outside of the restaurant, Jamie hangs his jacket over your shoulders and walks beside you, hands in his pockets.

When you approach his car, he opens the passenger's side for you. Before getting in you ask, "Why did you call me that?"

"Call you what?"

"Your girl."

He shrugs, "You've always been my girl."

"Jamie-"

"I know it's fucking cliche or whatever, but it's true. I was just too dumb and blind to not see it.

"I know you're probably thinking I'm bullshitting you, but I promise I'm not. You-You don't understand how much happier I've been since having you back in me life. I feel whole and on the top of the world. When I scored the winning point today and I saw you jumping and screaming my name, I just thought 'Fuck. I love her so much'. And the thought of losing you again...it terrifies me to me core."

"I want to believe you, Jamie, but...I dunno."

"Tell me what's on your mind," he slips his hands into yours.

You look down at your intertwined hands and you laugh in disbelief, "I've always been on the sidelines when it came to you. Felt like you never truly saw me despite me being at your side for so long. I've-I've always dreamt of hearing you say that you have feelings for me and now you're doing it and I'm-I'm scared that you'll eventually push me to the side again."

Jamie's shaking his head fervently and he gently cups your face, "No. No, I'm never doing that again. I see you, Y/N. I do. I see your beautiful smile, the crinkle your nose makes when you see something you don't like. I hear the snort you give when I say something stupid. I see how fucking fit you look in me kits." You giggle and Jamie is beaming, "I see you and I love you, Y/N. I'm not pushing you to the side anymore. But I know I can be a lot, so we can go things your pace. Your way, your rules, whatever. I'm here for the ride."

"Okay," you reply meekly, still in disbelief that this was happening.

You watch as he glances down at your lips and begins to lean in but then freezes when you both hear, "YOU OWE ME TWENTY QUID!"

You burst out laughing, looking over your shoulder and giving Keeley the finger.

[nanamimizz]

𝐃𝚶𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝚬𝐀𝐕𝚬 𝐀 𝐌𝚬𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝚬 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝚬𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝚬 𝐓𝚶𝐍𝚬.

 tags: 18+ minors dni, fem reader, penetrative sex, female receiving oral, unprotected sex, overstimulation, dubcon voyeurism (reader is not aware of it happening), themes of jealousy, possessiveness, reader and kunigami grew up together but began dating well into his pro soccer career, phone sex, shitty ex boyfriends, references to the hellscape that is blue lock- let me know if i missed something. inspired greatly by @prettyboykatsuki

synopsis: when your ex-boyfriend keeps the phone ringing the the last thing he expects is for your current boyfriend to pick up the call.

When Kunigami returned from Blue Lock it was your happiest day, 6 months away from him who was at the time your best friend, was painful but when he gripped you tightly in his arms after being destroyed and rebuilt for the sport he loves you knew something else happened to him beyond soccer training. His career took off and you were there for him every step of the way but it was undeniable that he came back differently. Kunigami Rensuke at the age of 17 was warm - it shone in the autumn of his eyes the gentle way he would tuck the hair behind your ear when you would confide in him the terrible things your then boyfriend had said to you and it was felt in the understanding ways he would comfort you. Now he has changed - before he was a warm campfire, now Kunigami Rensuke was a wildfire that rages just for you and the field. 

 And maybe it is because of this newfound fire that makes him act the way he does when he finds out that your stupid fucking ex-boyfriend has been calling you non-stop since he was away for the season. It was the first thing you told him when he came back - that you planned to change your number as soon as he came back since your ex-boyfriend who had broken up with you 2 years after high school, right before you met, has taken to calling you and messaging you. Sometimes it was drunkenly, other times it was when he was sober but all the same, Kunigami hated it.

Kunigami does not hate most things - aside from losing and milk-soaked cereal he really, really hates your ex-boyfriend. He hates how the dumb schmuck doesn’t know that your favorite breakfast since middle school is toast with butter and jam followed by hot coffee with milk. He hates that he didn’t know that your favorite manga is Fruit Baskets and your favorite pokemon is a Glaceon. He hates how the fucking idiot doesn’t know that it’s your dream to see the Northern Lights and that you like a watercolor painting even if you aren’t the best at it yet.

Most of all, Kunigami Resnuke hates that this man had you for 5 years, throughout high school and two years after, and could not treat you with the decency you deserved. It was almost unjust, how a man like that had a woman like you. You were a kind-hearted girl, he remembers being little kids and how you struggled to play soccer with him but you always entertained him just because him being happy made you happy. Or you trying to learn how to play his scary gun games because that's what he liked to play and the years had made you as beautiful as your heart, it is an undeniable truth. Now you were his and he made it his goal to treat you as lovingly as you regard him.

Even if he has to put up with both of your mothers knowing and teasing glances at your budding and enduring relationship.

This is why he takes it personally when he hears your phone ring only a day when he’s back in the country - returning from abroad from the season and he sees a blocked number flash on the screen. Sucking at his teeth, a habit he’s picked up from Isagi from all people and he slides the call denied button, turning off your phone to give you peace of mind for the rest of the night. It works only for a while as you come out of the shower, skin flushed from the water he often jokes about being scalding with a soft smile that fades when you reach for your phone, turning it out to look through your emails and find that someone had called you - the person you wish had never even taken a second glance at. It makes Kunigami frown, he hates it when your smile falls and your pretty face is made into something that tugs at his heartstrings.

It bothers him, an itch he can’t scratch as he watches you from the corner of his eye as you go through your routine of brushing your hair and applying lotion to your freshly bathed body - a new habit you started as you had enough of dealing with the itchiness of dry skin.  That sad look on your face haunts him every time he closes his eyes and it’s what leads him to get up from his place on the bed until he is at your back from where you sit in front of the mirror. You raise your gaze to look at him through the mirror and you smile, so softly he still feels his knees go a little weak.

“Hi baby,” You say as you lean back to him to let him put his hands - so big and tan on your shoulders until your back is flush with his front. Kunigami is mighty in all things and even his heart can be felt through his skin until it marches to the beat of your own. Between the two of you, you are the one that vocalizes the affection of your relationship - saccharine pet names often befall your lips in a way that leaves him hot, cheeks blushing, and ears tinted pink. Even now Kunigami does not stand a chance when you call him your baby.

“Are you okay?’ He asks and you only sigh, eyes downcast in a way he can’t stand, and he tongues at his cheek in frustration because he knows why you are upset but he can’t do much about it if he doesn’t want to end up in some prison. You don’t even have it in you to say something back, letting yourself be brought close to him in a way that makes you wish you could just melt into bones and be one with the man you love more than anything.

“You want a distraction?” He asks, nose in your hair and he sighs at the scent of peppermint and tea tree oil. His question makes you shake - yes, yes you would like a distraction only he can give to you. You had wanted to hold back, give him the night to be settled but you’ve missed Rensuke, you missed how he kisses you and how he makes love to you. This time apart has been hard, the constant digging of an old wound has made you vulnerable and you need him as close to you as possible right now.

It’s why Kunigami takes you to the bed - kisses you with teeth and tongue, and puts his mouth on places only he has discovered. No one compares to him in how thorough he is with pulling every whine and soft moan from your plush mouth. He has you on your back, your legs crossed and narrowed with your heels digging into the curvature of his flexed shoulders as he keeps you in place for himself to devour you entirely. White teeth shine with the slick he pulls from you, lips that are often bitten and slightly cracked are wet with you as you tremble above him, sighing his name like he’s some sort of god to you - “Rensuke, Rensuke, Rensuke!”

Maybe he is because that’s what lovers see each other as right? He is sure you were something divine from the moment you two traded vulpixes and growlthies in the copies of LeafGreen and FireRed you two played in his childhood room to how he looks at the diamond rings he plans for the engagement that you don’t even know about. He drinks from you like you are something mythical, ambrosia and nectar can be sourced only from what your spread legs bear for him and him alone, he doesn’t even notice it but he’s made you cum twice now. Kunigami raises his head, the bottom half of his face slicked and shining with you and he eyes your puffy cunt with hungry eyes.

Desire, he hungers for more of what only you give.

You’re breathless, panting, and soaked with cum on your bottom half, sweat above the waist. Autumn eyes stay focused on your puffy cunt, swollen and sticky with his drool, and your release that clings between your thighs like a spider’s web. His tongue, the same one that was as deep as it can get inside of you, licks his bottom lip and you can only clench around nothing at the sight of it. Kunigami grins victoriously at the motion, you always bring your thighs flush when you clench and tighten at the idea of him being inside of you he finds it precious as it is enticing.  He laughs, it’s gruff to your ears but you already know what comes next so with a whine that is lost in the heated air of the room, you spread your legs and he soothes your hiss with a thumb that rubs at your inner thigh.

His cock is in his other hand that doesn’t soothe you and you try not to think that it is so like him - one side still has the Kunigami you grew up with and the other has the side of him that changed without you. His cock is tanned and heavy, bending under its weight it frightened you the first time you saw it; it would be a lie to say it still doesn’t. However Kunigami is a kind lover, he makes sure you are wet, leaking for him before he puts that monster you’ve lovingly called it before near you. This is why when the head meets the fluttering opening of your heat you only whine - high-pitched and faint when it first pushes in and you only gasp at the halfway point where his cock is the thickest. Kunigami huffs a laugh, he still thinks it’s cute you take his cock every time like it’s the first time although his libido makes it so you’ve taken him almost a hundred times.

You’ve taken him to base now - he fills you so well you wonder if you were made to be his. Panting and drooling, your legs are wrapped uselessly around his hips from how they tremble under the weight of his strokes. Kunigami likes to fuck you deeply, starting slow he builds the pace until your brain is melting out of your ears. Your breath is shortened, it’s hard to moan out his name at its full length and it’s apparent in how you mutter out short rasps of “Ren, Ren - oh!” Short, girlish little pants are taken from you and Kunigami delights in them - this is what victory tastes like, bathed in the sweetness of your honey that sticks to his pelvis to his balls.

He can still taste it on his tongue too.

The head of his cock never misses, it hits the bundle of nerves on your insides that make you squeal into his neck as your thighs are molded into his hips, he feels like he is something special if he gets to see you like this. 

Which is why, when your phone rings for the second tonight - you can only moan when you see the darkened look that paints his handsome face. The gray screen of the blocked number flashed and something wicked came your way. You couldn’t have stopped him, your mind is muddled by pleasure and your form is weakened by how he saps the strength from you with each thrust. You are entirely helpless when he reaches over, Kunigami as long as he is broad and he answers the phone with a well-timed thrust that makes you moan high over the rustling of the sheets and your boyfriend’s low moans. The call is quiet, shock paints the absence of sound as the sounds of your coupling echo in the receiver of the call.

“The hell you keep calling for - she’s fucking,” Kunigami rasps a groan as your cunt flutters, a sign that your third completion of the night is on the rise.” Fuck, she’s busy. Stop calling.”

You can faintly hear the muffled curses that your ex lets out but it doesn’t matter now because now you are thrown over the cliff's edge - Kunigami’s thumb found itself at your clit while you were too busy gazing up at him. The pleasure is immense, from the way he looks down at you; Kunigami sees you as both his person and his possession - people are allowed to covet for what is his but they are not allowed to commit any attempt to try and take it. He can share anything but you, he can give anything up but you. The same way he is greedy so is the pleasure he plucked from you, your vision whitens and you swear you hear the ocean in your ears.

Kunigami Rensuke has earned the right to be at your side, anyone else is a nobody that doesn’t deserve to breathe your air. Not even the stupid fucking chump that once was your boyfriend.

You are so lost in the sea of pleasure you don’t realize that the call hasn’t dropped yet - the receiver echoed the warbled cries and moans of you cresting orgasm paired with the sticky, wet sound of your cunt being fucked makes you whine in embarrassment as your hearing returns to you. Kunigami is still fucking you - drawing his hips back to press himself deeper and deeper until it aches. It’s only when it aches does he cum with a grunt, hands gripping into the soft skin of your hips and it’s like he is trying to well his fingers to your bones - so he may never have to be apart from you again.

The call is still going and you’re still still in a haze. You can’t hear what your man says into the microphone, his voice low and gruff from pleasure - “Call her again, and I’ll beat the shit out of you.” The call is cut, and that is the last day you ever hear from your ex boyfriend. 

[captainpulisic]

woke up just in time, now I wake up by your side - c. pulisic

authors note : dedicated to all my girlies who went against gender norms and dont know how to cook for shit. you are SEEN and you are LOVED <3 gif credits to owner word count : 1.8 k

christian had always hated mornings. waking him up was the worst thing you could do. don't get him wrong, he had always prided himself with being punctual and motivated for hours spent out on the pitch but unscheduled mornings were his own time. after long days and endless weeks of training, hiding away in his sleep was the only chance he got to truly rest. no expectations to meet, no obligations to fulfill. back before he had gotten his own place, every teammate turned roommate was tasked with the pointless battle of trying to get him out of bed. it was futile trying to shake him awake or yelling at him to get a start on his day, they’d just be met with snores or a shoe lazily thrown at them. 

if only any of those roommates could see him these days, they’d have a stroke.

the current christian, the one waking up at ungodly hours, was not the one they had come to be weary around. he was different, he was happy. he wasn’t cursing the person waking him up anymore. how could he, when it was you waking him up?

you being an early bird, tried to always wake up at 6 am. a jam packed schedule and uni had you itching to start your days earlier than others, wanting to be out the door by 8 am, and not a moment later. yet, you made sure to always set a few moments aside for the grumpy, sleeping beauty on the other side of the bed. you’d trace the curves on his face, a feather like touch sweeping his furrowed brows and over his lips. sometimes seeing him so peaceful, so beautiful- you couldn't help your urges to kiss him silly.  

and that was christians favorite way to wake up. the trail of kisses you’d leave on him was intoxicating. he felt them everywhere. his lips, cheek, jaw, neck and chest. and when he’d hear your soft ‘good morning’, it was over for him. no, he didn’t hate mornings anymore. he loved them and he wished he could always wake up this early, if this was the way it would happen. 

a typical morning would have the rays of shine having your eyes flutter open. the light illuminates the room, casting a pretty glow on christians sleeping face. it gives you a few seconds to fully wake up, a peaceful prelude before your hectic day begins. the cold london air is still present outside of your little bubble. you don’t even feel it, christians insane body warmth keeping you as toasty as possible. with his arm secured around your waist and your body pulled flush against his, you’re sure you’d survive antarctica in this position.

and while christian might say he despises mornings, you absolutely loved them. and its become your mission to make him love them, too. thus, you’ve created a little game of seeing how many kisses it takes to get him awake and happy. you pepper them all over his face and neck, watching him stir a little. you start this little show by a gentle kiss on each cheek, making sure to leave one on his nose. soon after, you reach his chest. there, gentle kisses to his collarbones and wet brushes where his neck meets his shoulders. they grow a little faster and frustrated as you realize they aren’t working, trying to lure him out of his sleep in the sweetest way possible. 

it took you a week of this charade to realize that he cheats. that he usually wakes up after the first kiss to his nose and cheek, but lays perfectly still. that while his eyes remain shut and face unchanged, he’s praying that your touches don’t stop. he thinks he’s so clever, not realizing you figured out the moment he’s awake. you’ve figured out what areas to kiss, that causes his breathing to stagger. the slight tint in his cheeks betrays him every single time, alerting you that he's conscious. 

lucky for both of you, this is a win-win situation. he likes being kissed awake by you and you like being the one to kiss him all the time. therefore, you’ll gladly keep this pretense up, pretending to desperately cover him in soft kisses until he’s ‘finally awake’.

usually, after you shower him with affection with one final kiss on his lips, he’ll decide to be nice and miraculously wake up (as if on cue). other times, he’ll be a bit more stubborn and keep up his sleeping beauty act. on those days, you’re practically straddling him and messily kissing him. neither of you wanting to be the first to fold. damn right strong headed, the both of you. 

yet, usually, you end up winning with your secret move. the final act that has him waving the white flag and you claiming victory once again. after kisses on neck and cheeks and lips and tattooed chests, you drag your lips to his ear. capturing his earlobe, you tug it gently in between your teeth. 

and that just about does it for christian. game over, no argument. he lets out a sigh and his eyes flutter open. 

“morning, handsome.”

he feigns grogginess, eyes awake and tired. the bastard even has the audacity to fake a yawn. returning a kiss to your forehead, he slides his hands to rest on your hips. a smile plays on his lips, “morning, pretty girl.”

yeah, christian loves these types of mornings with you.

but today was not one of those mornings. he had woken up to an empty space and cold sheets. with tired eyes and still in a sleepy haze, he unlocks his phone to see it’s already 10:15 am. his horrible mood is at the point of returning because you’d usually be in class by this hour. yet,his frown only grows deeper when he remembers it was supposed to be a peaceful sunday morning between the two of you. no class, no training, no plans. 

he could go back to sleep, it’s tempting. he could roll over right now and hide his body further into the blankets. he could do it, but he doesn’t. it just doesn’t seem worth it if you’re not there to keep him warm. hoping to find you somewhere in the house and coax you back into bed, he gets up with a huff. 

he checks the living room, knowing you retreat there to read when you want to be alone. nothing. he checks the backyard, the living room. nothing, again. this house is too fucking big, why does he need all these rooms when they’re just here to make it harder for him to find you?

its when he hears the pots and pans clanking that he nearly trips over himself rushing to get to the kitchen. he doesn’t care how pathetic he seems. frankly, waking up without you and spending these 5 minutes without you, he’s decided they’re the worst 5 minutes he’s ever lived. 

finally, reaching the kitchen, his feet and heart stop at the sight of you. there you were, back turned to him and in his shirt from the night before. he can’t see your face but he hears your smile in the way you were humming along to whatever song is stuck in your head. it’s very endearing to him the way you’re too caught up in your mind that you don’t even notice the eggs burning on the stove. no, making sure the kettle was filled with water seemed more important to supervise. he doesn’t blame you, not really. back when you had first moved in with him, you wanted to make a celebratory pasta for dinner. lets just say, a pot of water caught on fire and some pieces of clothes earned scorch marks. to this day, neither of you can explain how that happened. it was just mutually agreed upon that christian would be the one to do the cooking for the both of you. 

when he fears that the smoke detector will go off any second, he lets his presence be known by stepping up to turn the stove off. your head whips around, finally noticing the burnt state of the eggs. you let out a shy laugh, hiding your face behind your hands. 

“i’m sorry, i know i’m banned from using the stove” you rambled, flushed and starting to regret the romantic idea of bringing him breakfast in bed. “it’s just that you were asleep and you looked so peaceful and pretty- you alway look pretty. and i wanted to do something nice for you and have food ready for when you woke up and uber eats would’ve taken too long and eggs seemed easy. why aren’t eggs easier to make?”

he steps in front of you, taking your hands from your face and kissing each one. his voice is still raspy from sleep, “mornin’ baby.”

“hi, good morning.” you kiss his lips in return. shaking your head once more, “and I really am sorry.”

“it’s okay, we can make something else.”

“wait! I did make you something else.” he sees your eyes brighten, “I also made you toast, no one can mess that up! it’s just bread!”

without wasting a second, you turn to the toaster that’s on the other side of the island counter. you freeze when you see the black smoke emitting out of it. as if on cue, two slices of charred bread pop out. yeah, you both should’ve seen that one coming. 

christian, bless his soul, just smiles and says ‘yum’. he tries, he really does to scrape off some of the darker bits of it. its hopeless. he lathers some butter on it and doesn’t break his smile when he takes a bite of it. you notice how he tries not to wince. you can see him struggle to chew it and swallow, you’d be laughing at his horrible poker face if your heart wasn’t about to burst over how sweet he is. 

he notices your awestruck expression, “what?”

“nothing,” you muse. wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into him, “I just love you, ‘s all.”

“i love you, too.” you feel him squeeze you a little tighter, “and i’ll finish this toast but no amount of love will make me eat those eggs.”

your laugh is music to his ears and he feels a sense of pride for being the cause of it. he feels a kiss on his exposed arm, “sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.”

“it’s okay,” he kisses the top of your head. hoping to make you laugh some more, “you made me a 5 star meal, so i’ll let it slide just this once.”

yeah, mornings might just be christians favorite part of the day now. 

[namis-gf]

Hii can I get Robin x Reader, where Robin wakes up from a nightmare and reader comforts her? I'd imagine it's set after Enies Lobby

ANON ILY THIS IS SUCH A GOOD REQUEST!!! i was kicking my feet and giggling while writing cause robin is best girl ever and hurt/comfort is my jam

summary: fem!reader and robin sharing a bed for the first time after everything that went down in water 7/enies lobby. for context, reader worked for sir crocodile in alabasta and robin took her along when she boarded the merry (but she was unaware of robin working with the government)

word count: 812 words / 0.8k

cw: none!

there are three beds now, in the girls' cabin on the sunny. you aren't sure if you're relieved or disappointed. the shipwright luffy picked - franky is his name, you think - had done a headcount of every member of the crew before getting to work.

the gulf between each bed feels even larger at night. for the first few nights back at sea, you can hear soft, heart-wrenching noises from across the room. your heart sinks into your stomach from the guilt, making you almost nauseous, but you can't work up the courage to get up and check on her.

robin had lied to you.

yes, you know she'd done it for the greater good. yes, you know she didn't mean any harm by keeping you in the dark. but nico robin has been by your side for as long as you can remember, on the sea and in the scorching sands of alabasta. she was there in your worst and weakest moments, and you cherish her. part of you wishfully thought that she too, felt as though she could confide in you just as equally.

she's crying again tonight. robin has always had issues with sleep, though she used to be much more cryptic and closed off about the origin of the problem. sometimes, back in your homeland, she would crawl into your bed after night-watch. never touching you directly, but her presence was warm and comforting.

you get to your feet and slip past a sleeping nami, heading toward the bed farthest from the door and shrouded in darkness. by the time you attempt to make an awkward approach, she is already awake and silently watching.

"i missed you," you whisper quietly, extending the olive branch.

before you can try and come up with something else to say, two hands brusquely push against your back. the motion sends you falling forwards, a familiar laugh and the scent of flowers awaiting. she pulls you close, your face red red red from embarrassment.

"it was about time you came to check on me," robin hums, an errant hand summoned by the devil fruit's magic combing through your hair. "one would almost think you were angry."

"i'm not angry," you grumble. "i was worried. for a smartypants, you've been making real stupid decisions of late. that new captain must be a bad influence."

"it wasn't stupid," she replies, sounding lost in thought. "i did what i had to do. if it came down to it, i was ready to go."

"that's the fucking problem! you convinced yourself you were ready, and-"

"i wanted to live, yes."

"well thank god," you huff indignantly, rolling over so you can face her properly. "i would've been pissed if you dragged me all this way just to go and die like a loser."

she chuckles again, the sound music to your ears. "what was it, mr. 0 used to say all the time? right, yes. we don't lose."

"and die winners?" you finish the familiar saying, "he was always so full of shit. the hell does that even mean? If you're dead, you lose. game over."

robin's breath seems to be evening out, and the throes of sleep are working to snare you too. but you came here for a reason, and you won't just let her ignore the problem any longer. "what were you dreaming about?"

"oh, i don't know," she says, flippant. if you could make out her face in the dark, you're sure she'd be smiling at your imminent frustration. "i never really remember my dreams."

“ever?" you echo disbelievingly, "that's nuts. just yesterday i woke up from an awful nightmare about the captain trying to boil my hair like spaghetti."

"sounds yummy," she presses close to you, now, and her two real arms circle around your shoulders. "but i'm afraid my dreams are top secret, frontier agent miss thursday."

"don't pull that garbage rank on me! you know i'm worth more than... eleventh," you say the last word with enough distaste that robin starts giggling again.

"no offence," robin says, in the voice that means she's about to be totally mean. "but i think your former rank had more to do with uh- how do i put it- your tendency to dispose of your partners."

“it's not my fault he was a dummy and couldn't defend himself," you argue back, mostly for the fun of it. "i really think they underestimated my grand potential."

"well that's why i took you with me, of course," she soothes, and you laugh a little yourself at the insincerity. "i'm serious though, i sleep better with you around. so you are hereby forbidden to leave."

"aye," you snort, raising a wobbly arm in mock salute. nico robin may be a total mystery, but you were raised persistent. and persist you fucking will, until she lets you into her heart.

[deerlottie]

🐶🦝— drama

summary: shauna and nat find themselves falling in love with you at the same. warnings: 18+ MDNI, transmasc!nat, threesomes, fighting, fem!reader

you'd be lying if you said things weren't awkward between you and your best friends.

recently, you've noticed just how close shauna and nat have gotten to you over the past few months you all have been trapped in this forest. maybe it's because they needed someone to talk to and you were always willing to listen, you think. but you don't think that's true.

at least not anymore.

not when they've both attempted to kiss you.

not to say that you rejected them - trust me, it's lonely as hell in this huge forest, of course you get needy sometimes. needy like how nat gets when it's just you two hunting for some game and you both end up hooking up near the plane crash site. or needy like shauna in the middle of the night, her hands caressing you under the sheets.

they're both unaware of the others advances though - something you've praised yourself for hiding this long. it's hard sometimes with them always trying to tug you away to hook up, but you've gotten use to making excuses.

that was until shauna noticed a huge hickey that nat left.

shit.

"it's nothing." you hide your neck with your sweater, pulling it over your head, "probably just a bug bite."

"what bug could make that big of a mark?" shauna sneers, trying to pull your hoodie down to get another look. you smack her hand away, getting up from the cold attic floor and standing.

"seriously, shauna. it's nothing!" you grip your hoodie to keep her from fucking with it. she glowers at you from the floor, mumbling something before pulling out her journal, no doubt about to write about you.

to make matters worse, you hear someone fumbling with the door of the attic, cursing at how it's always jammed. you mentally face palm when it's revealed to be none other than natalie.

he eyes you and shauna, face turning sour as he wonders why you're with her. you see him glance at her before smirking, walking up to you and toying with the strings of your hoodie.

"why're you covering up my marks? too shy to show them off?" nat's voice is deep and teasing as he pulls your hoodie down, grabbing your cheeks to move your head to the side while appreciating his hickeys.

"natty," you whine lowly, shrinking into yourself as his eyes darken. he runs a thumb over your lips and leans into kiss you but is interrupted by shauna. "enough! i'm sick of you trying to steal her from me." she growls, throwing her journal to the ground and yanking you back to her by your sleeve.

you gasp out quietly, shauna holding you tightly by her side as if she'd never let you go. nat's lip curls in a scowl, clenching his fist at shauna's sudden display of control.

"she's yours? who is she marked by then?" nat mocks with a tilt of his head. shauna's grip on you tightens uncomfortably, her nails digging into you skin before she pushes you away and lunges for nat.

you watch in shock as they shove each other, yelling out profanities. nat gets a good punch to shauna's mid-section, laughing as she falls to the ground and clutches her stomach. shauna looks up with a death glare before getting up and successfully punching nat and making him fly to the ground.

she gets on top of him, pounding into his chest for a few seconds before you snap out of your shock, rushing over to them. "shauna, what the fuck? get off of him!" you try and peel her back but she's stronger, pushing you away and causing you to land on your ass.

in a sudden movement, shauna's hands are around nat's throat and the air goes still as he lets out a deafening moan. you don't know if it's his embarrassment or the fight that causes him to blush so hard, but your eyes widen either way.

"i always knew you wanted both of us." shauna whispers, her hand gripping tighter. nat's eyes roll to the back of his head and he squirms underneath her. "i bet the only reason why you marked her so obviously was so that i would see and beat the shit of you. pervert."

nat lets out a pathetic whine at the word and lifts his hips up against shauna's.

"is that true?" you ask breathlessly, mouth agape by shauna's accusation. they both turn towards you at the sound of your voice, eyes hungry and dark like you're nothing more than their prey.

"y-yes." nat confesses, and shauna lets go of his throat, allowing both of them to sit up. they crawl closer to you and you try to scoot back, but you hit a wall with nowhere to go. "but it wasn't all for her." he starts kissing over his old hickeys, littering your neck with new ones. "i meant it when i said you're mine."

"ours." shauna growls, getting on your other side and tugging your shirt down, nipping at your collarbone. their hands slip under your shirt, groping your tits and you arch into the touch. you lean your head against the cabin wall, letting their hands wander wherever they want.

"fine. ours, whatever." nat mumbles, still wanting you all to himself. but he can share his meal with shauna, especially one as delicious as you.

you moan softly as you feel them both reach under your pants, fingers expertly rubbing circles around your hole. you grip onto shauna's hand as they both enter inside of you, letting out silent whines.

"you better get used to this, baby," nat murmurs in your mouth, gripping your jaw open so he can suck on your tongue. "'s gonna happen a lot more."

for @ultrone

[vibke]

Let us begin!  

Shadow Milk cookie had been sealed away by the mystical newfound powers of White Lily cookie, it seemed that the Beast-Yeast had plunged into a long-awaited peace. The hearts of the fairies were filled with sincere faith in their new guardian and the lands were immersed in a long celebration. White Lily cookie could finally live a full-fledged life, she talked warmly with old acquaintances and welcomed new ones. Everyone was laughing and singing, the atmosphere was light and filled with joyful bustle. The pressing bustle. Pure Vanilla used to enjoy watching the peaceful life of cookies, but this time he just needed some time alone. Even as a fresly-baked cookie he was extremelly sensitive to magic. There was no need to use eyes to see, the magical aura emanating from each cookie, cake-monster, and even flower could tell much more about them than sight. He understood it early enough. The aura of the Shadow Milk was the thing that plunged him into thought. They were the same. Cruelty, pretense and deception - that's what everyone else had faced. That was obvious and simple. But Pure Vanilla could feel that they had the same nature. To be honest, he never thought about his magical beginnings. His own aura had always been a part of him, was what he was. But Shadow Milk made him think about his own essence. Will he ever become like this, full of hatred and malice? He refused to believe it. But his thoughts would not let him go. He started spending most of his time in a dwelling on the outskirts of the fairy kingdom going out only at night when no one could disturb him. 

This went on for a while. Was it self-hypnosis or the effects of constant lack of sleep, but left all alone with himself he began to hear a distant whisper that grew louder and louder every day. The others slowly began to shy away from him, as he behaved more and more intensely and secretively towards others. It was him. The whisper was impossible to make out because of his haste, but Pure Vanilla was sure that the voice belonged to Shadow Milk. It was excruciatingly exhausting. It was almost impossible to sleep, and when sleep did come, the image of the Beast peeked through the dark space and came closer and closer, smiling slightly with sharp teeth. As soon as he got close enough to be clearly seen, his face would start to contort into a sinister grin, and Pure Vanilla would wake up breathing fast and anxiously. Such dreams never lasted longer than a few minutes, but it was enough to plunge the ancient hero into chaotic anxiety and discourage the desire to sleep until the body turns itself off. Reality and dream began to gradually mix for him, transforming existence into a terrible mental torture, the faces of the surrounding cookies could begin to melt in his vision and countless eyes began to open on all the surfaces surrounding him, intently watching his every move. But the most terrifying thing was the mirrors. The reflection was never compatible with reality, each time there were different frightening images on the other side. He could stand among the lifeless bodies of cookies that lay helplessly at his feet, could be in a space completely filled with strawberry jam (blood), could tear off the wings of the fairies that screamed in panic, could destroy the silver tree with his own hands, releasing great evil or ruthlessly kill all the other ancient heroes smiling sincerely. Sometimes Shadow Milk was there too, he stood next to him and watched Vanilla with a satisfied look on his face. Each time Vanilla covered the mirrors with a cloth, but as soon as he turned away for a moment the canvas itself fell to the floor, showing an even more terrible scene. All he had the strength to do was sit huddled in the darkest corner of the room, trying not to look at the horror around him.  

He didn't realize how much time had passed, but suddenly he heard a cautious knock on the door. Could this be another game of his weak mind? "Pure Vanilla, are you in there?” - he heard the alarmed voice of the White Lily cookie. How long has it been since he went outside? He was ashamed that he had made her worry. Despite his weakened state, he didn't want to bother anyone. Especially Lily. She had taken on too much, her life was so full of countless regrets and guilt to put even more responsibility on her. It's just his burden, no one else's. It is his fault that he is so weak that he suffers from his own consciousness, it is his fault that he cannot fight back. Using a fraction of his concentration, he got up from the floor and headed for the door. He should look okay, he should seem normal. He tried to clear his head of everything that had happened lately and creaked the door open a little. "Yes, do you need something?"  He tried to smile softly, which had always calmed Lily before, but his body wouldn't obey. The smile looked insincere and rather bothered her even more. “Actually yes, may I come in please? This is extremely important.” - Her voice sounded quite agitated, but pretty firm. He glanced uncertainly at his room. Watching eyes stared at him, and the walls swam in his gaze. But fortunately, he knew that Lily couldn't see it. “Of course, you may come in” - he opened the door completely, gesturing for the guest to enter. Lily quickly slipped into the room, while Vanilla closed the door. She checked the room anxiously, standing in front of the curtained mirror. She looked excitedly from the neglected room to Vanilla. “What is the matter? - He tilted his head slightly, showing uncertainty. Lily walked over to Vanilla and took his hands in hers, pulling them to her chest. His hands were very cold and shaking a bit. "Is everything okay? You don't act like yourself lately - she looked into his eyes with sorrow - you look terrible, have you been drinking or eating anything? Please just tell me, all I want is to help. There is nothing that cannot.......”. Lily's speech became more and more unintelligible when Vanilla noticed that Shadow Milk’s hand was slowly sticking out from under the fabric on the mirror, starting to pull off the canvas. Pure Vanilla’s breathing became erratic, and his eyes began to run around the room trying to ignore what was happening. Lily looked behind her, puzzled, but didn't notice a thing. “Vanilla?” - Lily asked uncertainly as he began to slowly back away. Suddenly, the fabric fell off the mirror and Shadow Milk slowly came out of it passing through the glass. “No - Pure Vanilla whispered when he put his back against the wall – this can’t be”. Shadow milk cut off Lily's head in one motion and threw it on the floor, laughing. Tears started pouring out of Vanilla's eyes. “Oh, what a pleasant meeting! I've been waiting so long for the opportunity to finally have a few words with you, it was SOOOOO exhausting – he chuckled - but to be honest, I would prefer to continue our nice conversation elsewhere!” He lightly touched the star on Vanilla's forehead with his hand, as the ancient hero lost consciousness and collapsed to the floor. “Pure Vanilla cookie!” - Lily screamed in panic when he passed out. 

“Ta-da!” - heard Vanilla and opened his eyes. He was levitating in the void, there was simply no other name for this place. There was nothing around, just small stars twinkling somewhere in the distance. The lack of ground underfoot felt extremely strange, but the Beast seemed to feel quite comfortable. “This is my place, make yourself at home!” - he smiled lively and took a silly pose in the nevisomost. “What is that all for? “ - Vanilla asked suspiciously in a weak voice. “Awwwww, you cookies are all the same! Always suspect something instead of just relaxing! But you're right this time, I had a great offer just for you!” - Vanilla could see the mischievous gleam in his eyes. “How about we become partners? You seem pretty reliable and I don't think you're going to piss me off too much” - he narrowed his eyes. It was unexpected. But Vanilla had no intention of helping anyone wreak havoc around the Earthbread. ”What made you think that I would agree?" - he watched warily as the Beast’s face instantly became more gloomy. “Alright, you have already started pissing me off! I can arrange a much more terrible fate for you than what I'm offering now” - he glared at Vanilla. “It doesn't matter. If my suffering is the price to pay to keep the world safe from you, then I'm ready” - Shadow Milk was getting furious in front of his eyes. “So you are such a martyr, yea? I’m sick from your sugary speeches, AGH! Do you think that your spirit power will overcome me, do you think that YOU can decide something here?” - he was almost growling when suddenly a malicious grin appeared on his face. “So you think you're a good guy, like someone who protects all the weak, right? Let me prove that this is NOT the case - he pointed his hand at vanilla – BANG!” A sharp pain pierced Vanilla's chest, and a terrible burning sensation spread throughout his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, he was lying in bed at Lily's house in the Fairy kingdom. It was early morning, apparently, and the sun was shining through the wide window. Vanilla breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that the hallucinations were gone. But he felt rather strange. He felt dizzy and.... hungry. Hunger.... Immediately, all his thoughts were filled with only an irresistible desire to restore vitality. He was losing control of his body because of the animal aspiration to search of food. He ran his tongue over his teeth and felt sharp fangs. He began to shake slightly. “What?” - before he knew it, a fairy cookie entered the room, holding several medicines in her hands. His mind was instantly empty. Out of control, Vanilla immediately rushed at the poor cookie, clinging to her throat with his fangs. 

White Lily was talking to the Silverbell cookie when she heard a terrible scream, which then turned into wheezing, from the direction of her house. She and the Silver Tree Knights rushed towards the sound, but then froze in horror. Pure Vanilla was biting off pieces of wings torn off from one of the fairies, who was now lying lifeless on the ground. Her throat was bitten in half. White Lily couldn't believe her eyes, Vanilla would never do such a thing. The very cookie that loved and appreciated any life killed another cookie right in front of her eyes. She wanted to say something, but several knights had already rushed to attack her best friend. But they couldn't get any closer. Their bodies were riddled with thorns created from the magic of the dark side of the moon. Vanilla smiled with satisfaction, there was not a drop of pity in his eyes. In a similar way a predator looks at its prey. Suddenly, Mercurial Knight Cookie appeared behind Vanilla's back, ready to dissect the traitor, but he was immediately captured. Clumps of dark magic firmly fixed his limbs. Vanilla grinned as the clots began to slowly tear off the cookie's limbs. “Pura Vanilla, stop that, please! I beg of you” - He heared the familliar voice, turned at the call and bowed his head questioningly. The dark magic also stopped, giving the knight a little break. “I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm sure it's not you! Vanilla, please, I'm addressing you as my closest friend, drop it and wake up!” - Lily screamed in tears. Vanilla's face looked puzzled for a moment, and the next second he hissed and clutched his head. Tears also began to form in his eyes. He covered his face with his hands and screamed desperately, and then looked up with horrified look. He pulled away from the lying bodies of the cookies in a panic He looked at Lily with fear and sincere regret, and then began to run away from the Fairy kingdom. Once he leaves, he will never be able to find it again. So he kept running until he was completely lost in the forest. He's a monster. He shouldn't be around someone he can hurt. He fell helplessly to his knees. In the resulting silence, he could hear that someone was catching up with him. He wanted to go even further away, when White Lily called out to him. “Stay away from me! - Pure Vanilla shouted - I'm a monster, I don't deserve your kindness or compassion!” “That is not..!” - Lily was interrupted in mid-sentence. “How right you are!” - Shadow Milk appeared right behind Vanilla, opening a portal leading to the void right below him. He bowed theatrically to White Lily before disappearing into the portal after Vanilla. 

(OMG, i have finally finished writing it! XD I enjoyed the process and really love the result, hope you enjoyed reading! If you notice some mistakes, inconsistencies or just strange moments you can text me about it! I will be happy to hear your opinion about my work! Also feel free to ask if you have any questions about the AU :3 That is the start of the universe I imagined, most of the drawings will be about it)

[batneko]

I really want more video games along the lines of Untitled Goose Game, where you’re just out here causing problems on purpose, and I remembered that old Japanese game where you play a mosquito bothering a family, so I thought... how about Jack and the Beanstalk?

The giants aren’t going to kill you, because you’re a fellow intelligent being, but they don’t want you in their house messing with their stuff either. You’d have to make progress while avoiding their notice, and especially avoiding the toddler who wants to give you a big sticky hug (the toddler could be used to distract the parents or sometimes knock over obstacles. Their presence also explains why the house is so safe, I don’t think there’d be a way to die unless you’re really trying, like, jumping DIRECTLY into a pot of boiling soup.)

Kitchen, pantry, living room, bedrooms, attic. So many possibilities for levels. I like the idea that every time you get caught and kicked out, you can’t return until the next day. Certain things would be reset but things that would take more time, like broken windows or the mess that ensues when you give the toddler a jar of jam, would take several days.

And then I think the win condition would be stealing a tambourine from the attic, because I like the idea of running inside it like a giant hamster wheel.

[pipi-un-kaki-in-pipi-land]

bella ragazza

summary: you lazily refuse to attend your extra classes along with Wednesday, so she takes a more bolder approach to make you tag along.

Eyes glued to the screen, you watched as your character get struck by a blue spiked turtle shell followed by a grunt of frustration that escaped your mouth. Your thumb twirled around the joystick as you tried to get back on track as soon as possible.

You were so immersed in your game that you didn't even acknowledge the door swinging open and your wondrous girlfriend walking in as she stared sternly at the device that you were holding.

"y/n, we have to go for extra classes," She snapped her fingers at your face which caused you to hurl in shock and drop your precious Nintendo switch that you bought with your own sweat and tears.

"But-" You tried to convinced Wednesday to simply let you skip the class like she always did, and she somehow managed to forge a different excuse every time.

"Now. No excuses from you," She locked her gaze with your expressions sternly, doe-eyed as you continued with your game.

"Please," You begged, not even looking up at her as your fingers pitifully jammed on the controls. You were so desperate to win this as to not ruin your beautiful game career.

"Do not make me, y/n," Wednesday scorned, walking over to you as she gripped her hand on the Switch, trying to lock eye contact with you but failing to do so again.

"Make you what?" You simply asked as you laughed, not actually knowing what she was trying to imply. You had been dating the ravenette for months now, but sometimes you still couldn't decipher every piece of puzzle in her mind.

She pulled your chair back as she suddenly threw her legs onto your lap, tugging on the hem of your collar, causing you to lose focus immediately and drop whatever you were holding because my oh my, this gorgeous girl of yours was sitting on your lap right now.

Color tainted your cheeks as you looked away in embarrassment, but she turned your jaw so you faced her instead.

"Uhh.." You bit your lips in surprise as you tried to rest your chin on your palm, but it was pinned to the armrest by the raven.

"This is the only way I can gain your attention, hm? I guess we need to practice more, bella ragazza," She stared up at you as she tilted your jaw to get a better view of your flustered face. Wednesday was never the one to initiate intimate things like this, but looks like it was her turn today - and you absolutely loved how she portrayed it.

After this, you totally went to the class with her. If it was like this, you would definitely try to be more addicted to your Switch so that Wednesday could totally own you whenever she wanted to.

[scary-grace]

Haunting for Beginners - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Ghosts summoned and bound to the human world have one purpose - haunting - but Tomura's never met a human he could stand long enough to haunt them, and he's pretty sure he never will. When you cross the threshold of his house, you capture his interest, and for the first time, he finds himself with a chance to do what ghosts are meant to do. It's too bad he doesn't know how. Scenes from Love Like Ghosts, through the eyes of the ghost in question. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1

Time means nothing to him. Less than nothing, when nothing changes. When he thinks about it – and he tries not to think very much at all – he knows that the world is in motion outside the walls, past the property line. The weather changes. Night turns to day and back again. Houses are built, occupied, emptied again. Humans live. Humans die. None of it matters to Tomura. All that matters to Tomura is what happens inside his house.

Tomura knows what a house is, what it’s for. A house is somewhere humans live, somewhere humans live and die and do whatever else they do in between. Tomura’s house is supposed to have humans in it, so he can haunt them, but he’s not clear on what haunting is in the first place. What is he supposed to do with humans once he has them? And even if he knew, there’s another problem. Humans come in and out of Tomura’s house often enough, some just to see, some planning to stay. And Tomura hates all of them.

They’re loud. They run. They jam up Tomura’s house with the stupid things they own and they bring even more people in with them and they change things, things they have no right to change or even touch. Tomura might not know how to haunt things, but he knows how to make his wishes known. He knows how to make people leave when he doesn’t want them here. After all this time – some long piece of time, but it doesn’t mean anything – he’s gotten really good at it.

Sometimes Tomura makes a game of it. Some times he doesn’t try as hard as others. If the humans make him angry, he tries harder, but if they don’t do anything specifically that he hates, he just watches them until they leave on their own. That’s how Tomura spends his endless stretches of time, as the world changes outside the property line and the other houses in the neighborhood empty and fill, empty and fill, over and over and over again –

– until one day the front gate creaks open, and you step through.

Tomura knows all about humans. He knows by looking at you that you’re young, but not a kid. Just barely old enough to be here by yourself, younger than anybody else who’s come to look at this place alone. Are you alone? Tomura waits, but the only person who follows you through the gate is the idiot who brings people to Tomura’s house to try to make them buy it. So you are by yourself. That’s – new.

Maybe that’s why Tomura’s paying attention. Because it’s new. He comes closer, shadowing you and the idiot as you walk through the empty lower floor of the house. The idiot is saying all the same things it usually says, about how old the house is and how it’s untouched except for the addition of central heating and cooling. Tomura almost stopped that from happening. Then he decided that he should be the one who gets to choose when a human leaves, not the temperature and whether or not it’s comfortable. So his house has central heating and cooling. Whatever that is.

You seem to care about that a little bit. It makes you nod, but beyond that, you aren’t reacting much. Humans usually react more to the house. They have opinions. Ideas about where they’re going to put things. Plans for what they’re going to change when they move in. What they’re going to ruin, more accurately. Or sometimes they’re comparing Tomura’s house to whatever other houses they’ve visited. So go buy those houses, Tomura always thinks. This is mine.

You haven’t mentioned any other houses. You aren’t saying anything at all, and Tomura can tell the idiot is uncomfortable. Good. Then the idiot opens its mouth and uses one of the words Tomura hates the most. “It’s a bit of a fixer-upper, which is obviously reflected in the price.”

“Is that what the price is reflecting?”

“What else would it be reflecting?” the idiot asks. It’s caught off-guard. Tomura is, too. He knows all the questions humans ask, and he’s never heard anybody ask that. “Like I was saying, if you’re interested in flipping this place, there’s a lot to remodel –”

Remodel. There’s another word Tomura hates. “I thought the price reflected the fact that no one who’s owned this place has owned it for long,” you say. “Do you know why?”

“People have their reasons.” The idiot is eager to get off the subject, but Tomura knows you’ve caught on. There’s a look on your face, like you’re figuring something out. “Let me walk you through the upstairs, and then we’ll take a look at the yard! Are you much of a gardener?”

“I’ve never had the space,” you say. But you like the idea. Tomura can tell.

Tomura cares what people do to the house. What happens to the backyard isn’t his concern. If you came to live here, you could do whatever you wanted to the yard if you left the house alone. You don’t ask a lot of questions. You don’t make a lot of pointless noise. You don’t talk about how much you want to change everything about Tomura’s house, and you haven’t come in dragging more humans after you. Do you have other humans? The idiot asks, and Tomura listens a little too avidly to the answer. “No,” you say. “It’s just me.”

That’s a good answer. There’s no such thing as a good answer from people who want to buy Tomura’s house, but it’s close enough that Tomura doesn’t hate you already.

Usually humans give the idiot a yes or a no before they leave. Even if they don’t, Tomura knows whether they’ll be back or not. But he’s not sure about you. You didn’t say very much, or react very much. Humans are nothing but reaction after reaction, and they’re usually easy to spot, but Tomura wouldn’t have realized that you liked the idea of a garden unless he’d been paying close attention. He’s not used to paying close attention to things. It makes him feel strange.

You only ask the idiot one more question before you leave, and you ask it on the sidewalk, past the property line. “Are there any other offers on this place?”

“No.”

“Good,” you say, and Tomura drifts out of the house for the first time in a long time, coming right up to the fence to get a look at your face. He thinks you like that answer. He’s not sure. “I’ll be in touch.”

And then you leave, with both Tomura and the idiot staring after you as you start your car and drive away. Tomura is staring, just like the idiot is. He retreats back to his house in a hurry, fast enough to stir a breeze that makes the idiot shiver, and sweeps upstairs into his favorite spot. Humans always put their beds here when they move in. Tomura wonders where you would put your bed if you lived here. He wonders if you’ll come back.

You won’t, probably. Most humans never come back, and if they do, Tomura never lets them stay. Tomura settles into his corner of the room, as incorporeal as it’s possible to be, the same way he spends most of his time. Space means everything to Tomura – his spot, his room, his house, his property. His neighborhood, because the other ghosts who live here all know who this place really belongs to, even though he’ll never cross the lines that separate his from theirs. Space matters. Time, not so much. Time is meaningless when he has so much of it, when nothing changes from one moment or minute, hour or day, week or decade or century to the next.

Except something has changed, a little. Even as Tomura tries to sink back into apathy, to let his awareness fade, he finds that he’s watching time, keeping an eye on the change from day to night. Counting the days that pass from the moment you stepped through the gate, wondering how many it will take to prove to himself that you aren’t coming back.

“Papa, the sign’s different!” The neighborhood’s youngest used-to-be-a-ghost stops in front of Tomura’s house, peering into the yard. “It says – p. P-something.”

“Pending,” the oldest used-to-be-a-ghost says. He’s stuck in a mortal form forever now, but his spirit’s older than Tomura’s, and even when Tomura’s shielding his aura, he knows the old ghost can read more from his aura than the rest. “Good spot, Eri. Looks like somebody’s thinking about buying this place.”

Is that what ‘pending’ means? Tomura waits until the other two have gone, then goes to investigate the sign. For sale, the sign usually says, but right now it says Sale pending. Someone wants to buy it. Someone is buying it, and the idiot’s only brought one person to see it in a long time. It’s been seventeen days since you came to see Tomura’s house. Is it you?

When he thinks about you buying the house, moving into the house, Tomura – he doesn’t know how to describe what he’s feeling, except that it makes his essence itch. He’s never felt like that before. He hates it. He doesn’t know how to make it go away. Maybe it’ll go away if you come back.

And you do come back, twenty-two days after the first time you crossed the property line. This time there are other humans with you, not just the idiot – humans in uniforms, carrying equipment. Inspection. That’s farther than most humans who want Tomura’s house get. You’re there, supposedly supervising, but instead you’re on the phone with somebody, at the same time as you’re reading through a packet of papers. Tomura doesn’t like that. You’re in his house. You shouldn’t be paying attention to anything else.

He wraps a strand of his essence around your phone, cutting off the signal, and you lower it from your ear, surprised. You try the call again, and Tomura tightens his grip. He wonders if you’ll get mad. Humans get mad about things like that. But instead of getting angry, you tuck your phone into your pocket and go back to your papers. Tomura reads them over your shoulder and feels some of his anger dissipate. You’re reading about his house, about all the people who owned his house before you came to see it. If you’re reading about the house, it’s fine. It’s better that you pay attention to what you’re reading than the other people who are here. When you leave again, Tomura goes back to counting the days.

There are more inspections than usual. Two different inspectors come to look for leaking poisonous gas, and another one comes looking for black mold, and then a fourth one comes through checking everything else, and you still don’t come back. The rest of the neighborhood has noticed what’s going on, and they’re talking about it. About you. Tomura listens to every word, the itching in his spirit worsening by the hour.

“All those inspections – she’s got cold feet. No way is she buying it.”

“Those inspections cost money. She wouldn’t have them done if she wasn’t serious about it.”

“This place is expensive,” the human who belongs to the youngest ghost says. “She can’t afford it.”

“I afforded it,” the human who belongs to the scar wraith says as he walks past with a pile of mail. “With rent like it is in the city, a mortgage is cheaper.”

Tomura doesn’t know what a mortgage is. He doesn’t know why he’s listening to the other so much, either. He barely pays attention to them, just enough to know when one house empties and fills again, when one of them dies, when a new one’s born. Or embodied. There haven’t been baby humans in the neighborhood in – ever. Humans have bought Tomura’s house before. That’s not new. But Tomura’s never thought about it as much as he’s thinking about it now.

After the inspections end, Tomura’s house is empty for eight more days. Then you come back with the idiot again, walking through the house like you did the first time. Halfway through, you send the idiot outside. And for the first time ever, it’s just you and Tomura inside Tomura’s house.

Tomura’s itching gets a thousand times worse in an instant, setting every scrap of his essence buzzing. It should be awful, but it’s – not. His spirit hums as he shadows you through the house from room to room, stopping when you stop, looking at what you’re looking at. Sometimes Tomura casts his essence wide, letting it expand to fill every inch of the house, but now he draws it inwards, fitting into the space next to you where the idiot would have stood if you hadn’t thrown it out. You threw the idiot out. Tomura knew he liked you.

There’s a thought he’s never had before. You keep walking, but Tomura stops following you, coming to a halt on the stairs as he tries to piece things together. Tomura knows what he dislikes. He knows what he can tolerate. He knows what he can ignore and what he doesn’t want to. Tomura knows what he needs to know about how he feels. He tolerates and ignores and gets irritated and bored and angry and angry and angry, so angry that he has to scatter his essence to the edge of the property line to avoid destroying his house. But he’s never liked something before.

Is that what this itching is? Liking something? Tomura doesn’t think so. The itching is something else. Liking is calmer. Liking isn’t uncomfortable. Tomura goes looking for you again and finds you sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, lost in thought. No phone. No papers. You look calm and comfortable. Tomura studies you and matches your expression to what he’s experiencing. He likes this. You like it, too.

When you get to your feet and head for the door, Tomura’s itching returns. The uncomfortable kind of itching. You’re leaving. He doesn’t like that, and the look on the idiot’s face as you approach it makes the itching even worse. For the first time, Tomura doesn’t listen in on a conversation you’re having. He disappears back to the house, draws as close to the edge of the world-that-is and the world between as he can, hoping it’ll drown everything else out. It drowns out the sound of your voice, but not the sound of a car starting and pulling away. Who just left? Was it you? The itching explodes into something unbearable, and Tomura races back to the front yard. You’re gone. The idiot’s still there. It’s fiddling with the sign.

For sale, it used to say. Next, Sale pending. The idiot attaches something else to it and backs away, its lips curving upwards. It’s happy. Tomura cuts as close to the fence as possible and gets a look at the sign that’s stood just inside the property line more often than not for as long as he’s been here. For sale, it used to say. Now it says Sold.

Tomura likes that. He likes that a lot.

When you move in, you don’t bring much with you. Tomura investigates everything you add to his house and realizes that most of it is old. Not the kind of old people pay money for. Just old enough to have seen better days. No other humans come to help you move. It’s just you, dragging things from a car into the house all day long. Some of it is heavy. You look tired. Most humans have other humans moving in with them, and most humans hire more humans to help them move. Tomura wonders why you don’t.

You don’t have any humans, but when you come back for good, you bring something with you. You get out of your car – which is old, like everything else you have, including Tomura’s house – and walk around to open the passenger-side door. A dog jumps out.

Tomura knows about dogs. He knows humans have them sometimes. But no one with a dog has ever moved into his house. Why didn’t you bring it before? The dog wanders around the yard, sniffing everything, putting things in its mouth and spitting them back out, until it scurries onto the porch and rolls on its back with its feet in the air and its tail wagging. It looks stupid. Tomura wonders if it knows how stupid it looks.

But you must not agree, because you’re smiling as you climb the steps to join it. When you crouch down to rub the dog’s belly, your hand vanishes partway into its thick fur. The fur looks – Tomura has to think hard to come up with a word for it. He knows what texture looks like, even if he’s never touched anything before. It looks – soft.

The dog’s fur is soft, and it looks happy. You look happy, too. You’re talking to the dog in a silly voice, asking it questions it can’t answer, since dogs can’t talk. Humans do things like that all the time, things that don’t make sense, and those things irritate Tomura. Usually. He doesn’t feel irritated right now. He feels something else. Not the itchy feeling that happens sometimes when he thinks about you, the one he doesn’t have a word for. It’s more like the feeling of liking something. Like that, but warmer, somehow. When he watches you and your dog together, he feels – nice.

Still, Tomura was expecting it to be just the two of you in his house. He’s not sure how he feels now that he knows about the dog. So Tomura does what he always does when there’s someone new in the house and they haven’t upset him yet: He watches.

He watches while you and the dog settle in for your first night in his house. You do some unpacking while the dog keeps you company. You let it out in the yard five or six times. You feed the dog and cook for yourself and feed the dog again by throwing little pieces of food to it while you’re making whatever you’re making. You talk to the dog, even though it can’t talk back. It likes the way your voice sounds. Tomura can tell. He still can’t tell how he feels about the dog.

He waits until you’ve gone to bed before he goes to inspect it more closely. It’s downstairs, sleeping in a crate full of pillows and stuffed toys. The crate’s door is open. It could get in and out any time it wants, but it seems to like it in there. Tomura peers at it through the bars on the crate, through the open door, trying to decide what to do about it. After a few minutes in which he comes up with nothing, the dog lifts its head off its pillow and looks at him.

Not at him. It can’t see him. Can it? Tomura shifts to one side, and the dog’s eyes follow him. Its ears are pricked. Tomura shifts to the other side, and once again, the dog tracks his position easily. It can see him. Tomura feels a surge of disquiet at the thought. What if it decides it doesn’t like him? What if it tells you about him, and you decide to leave? Tomura doesn’t want that to happen. He’s surprised by just how much he doesn’t want it.

The dog is still looking at him, eyes bright and alert. It’s wiggling strangely. Tomura studies it from a different angle and sees that its tail is wagging hard enough to shake its entire body. Its tail was wagging when you were petting it, too. It was happy then, because it likes you. Does it like Tomura too?

The question makes Tomura itch. He leaves the dog in its crate and drifts upstairs, heading for your room. The click of nails on the wood floors tells him that the dog is following him, trotting along with its ears up and its tail still wagging. The door to your room is slightly ajar. Tomura drifts through it, stopping just past the threshold, and the dog follows him, not stopping until it’s reached the edge of the bed, hopped up, and curled up at your side.

Tomura’s itching isn’t going away. It’s getting worse. He checks to see if leaving the room will make it better, but leaving makes it worse, too. He drifts forward instead, closer to the bed, then above it, peering down at you from the ceiling. Your bed is too big for you, he decides. Even with you asleep in the middle of it and the dog next to you, there’s still room on either side, enough for – what? Tomura doesn’t know for what, except that the question makes him itch worse than any thought he’s ever had.

The dog is looking up at Tomura. It’s wagging its tail again, and its tail is thumping against your face. You stir slightly, extend one hand from the blanket to rest on the dog’s flank. “Shh,” you mumble, giving it a few gentle pats. “I know. I like it here, too.”

You like it here. Tomura knew that. You wouldn’t have bought it if you didn’t like it. But hearing you say it is something else. The people who’ve bought Tomura’s house before have had plenty to say about it – about what needs to be fixed or upgraded or removed or changed, all the things about it that need to be different in order for it to be good enough for them. Nobody’s ever moved in and said they liked it just how it was. Except you.

He likes hearing you say that. Tomura retreats to the lower floor, so the dog won’t keep looking at him and hitting you in the face with its tail, then sneaks back up to peer through the open door once you’re both asleep. The dog is snoring, and underneath the snoring, Tomura hears your deep, even breathing, split up here and there with small, contented sounds. Tomura hates it when there’s noise in his house. But this is the kind of noise he could get used to.

Time used to mean nothing to Tomura. Now time means a lot of things. You’re home less than he thought you’d be – less than he’d like you to be, although that thought falls squarely in the category of things that make him itch. You’re gone most of the day, five days in a row, then home most of the day for two days in a row, and then the cycle repeats. The dog is here all the time, unless you’re taking it out for walks or letting it outside to run in the yard. When you’re here, Tomura watches you. When you aren’t, he watches the dog.

The dog watches him, too. No matter where Tomura is inside the house, the dog finds him, and it brings things to him. Usually its toys. Sometimes stuff Tomura knows it’s not supposed to have, like things out of your laundry basket. It sets them down in front of him and sits, tail wagging, an expectant look on its furry face. Tomura knows from watching you what he’s supposed to do with the toys. Throw them, so the dog can bring them back, or hold onto one end so the dog can bite down on the other end and yank and shake until it gets bored. Tomura ignores the dog at first, but ignoring it starts to feel weird. Bad. If he could help, he would. Really. He just doesn’t know how.

One day you’re in a bad mood when you leave. Tomura doesn’t know all the reasons why. Your mood seems bigger than the thing you got upset about, which was a big spider crawling across the bathroom mirror while you were brushing your teeth. It’s not the first spider, either. There have been at least eight, and Tomura knows where they’re coming from – a nest in the insulation between the walls, full of dozens more. The spiders are going to keep coming out. You don’t like spiders. If you don’t like spiders and Tomura’s house is full of them, you’re going to leave.

Tomura doesn’t want that. He encircles the nest with a few strands of essence and studies it for an hour, then two, then more. There’s something he should be doing here, some instinct pulling at him until he wraps the strands of essence tighter. Tighter, and tighter again, tightening his grip until the spiders in the nest begin to grow sluggish, then still. They’re turning cold. And somewhere in the smallest corners of his essence, Tomura feels warmth.

Living things are warm. Tomura pulls away from the dry, crumbling nest of dead spiders and back into the bathroom, where the dog is waiting for him with its ball. Tomura reaches for the ball, meaning to wrap it in essence and see what happens, but what happens is something else. His essence takes shape, takes visibility, takes weight and mass, until Tomura finds himself holding the ball in a pair of hands. His hands.

The ball has a dozen properties – prickly, fuzzy, rigid but not, damp but not wet, heavy in his hands but not nearly as heavy as the hands themselves. If Tomura had known he was going to touch something for the first time today, he would have picked something else. He shifts the ball to one hand, freeing up the other, and reaches out to the dog, which is bouncing up on its back feet with excitement. Tomura’s planning to pet the dog’s ears – that’s what you always do – but the dog shifts its head to one side and licks Tomura’s fingers instead. Wet. Slimy. Tomura wouldn’t have picked that for the first thing he touched, either.

He swaps the ball to the hand the dog licked, wipes the other on the carpet, and wonders if he can make more than two hands. He tries it, but two hands are all humans get. Two hands are all he gets. While the dog is sniffing the ball and trying to lick it out of Tomura’s hand, he uses the other hand to pet its ears.

They’re soft, just like he thought they’d be. Soft and warm. The dog’s tail thumps against the floor. It stops licking Tomura’s other hand in favor of nudging it, trying to trick him into throwing the ball. Tomura throws it hard enough to strike against the floor, bounce off the ceiling, and fly out the door into the hallway.

The dog lets out a joyful yelp and chases after it. Tomura stares down at his hands – his hands – and wonders how long he’ll have them for. How he’ll get them back. What else he can do with them.

He practices making hands. You don’t like when there are bugs in the house, so he gets rid of them, and with the energy he strips from their bodies, he makes himself hands. Hands are useful for a lot of things. He and the dog can play now. Never for as long as it wants – Tomura always runs out of life before the dog is tired of playing tug or fetch or rolling over on its belly with its feet in the air – but they can play now. Tomura knows the dog can’t talk, but if it could talk to you about him, he thinks it would have nice things to say.

You have nice things to say, too – about Tomura’s house, to everybody you talk to. But you don’t talk to as many people as the people who bought the house before you did, and you don’t invite as many people over. You don’t invite anybody over. You like your space, just like Tomura likes his space, and he’s already used to your presence and the dog’s in the house. Time matters to him now, so he knows it’s been twenty-three days since you and the dog moved into his house. Nobody else has stayed as long at a stretch. Since you moved in, you’ve slept nowhere else.

And you haven’t brought anybody else in. You don’t like the idea of bringing anybody else in. Tomura can tell by your expression when someone you’re talking to on your phone suggests it. He hasn’t really questioned if he was right to let you stay, but the more he observes you, the more convinced he is that it was a good decision. Tomura’s house has a human in it now. He can finally do what ghosts are supposed to do and haunt it.

But Tomura’s still not sure about the whole haunting thing. You’ve watched a few scary movies, and he’s watched them, too, so he knows that haunted houses are supposed to be terrifying. The humans in them should want to leave, and the ghost should make it as hard for them as possible, and maybe kill them, too. Tomura doesn’t want to kill you. And he doesn’t want you to leave. There has to be a way to haunt you that doesn’t end with you moving out.

He's turning the question over in his head as you and the dog play in the backyard in the early evening, so focused on it that he barely notices the coyote that slips through the fence. That hole in the fence has been there forever. Coyotes come in and out all the time. But there’s never been somebody in the yard when they’ve come in before. It takes Tomura a split second to realize there’s a problem, and that split second is too long. Long enough for the coyote to lunge at the dog and bite down hard one of the dog’s back legs.

The dog lets out a horrible sound, shrill and rattling, and you scream, too. The sounds shatter inside Tomura’s essence, and he hates them – but not the same way he hates everything else. You throw your phone at the coyote, hitting it in the head, and it lets go of the dog, who scrambles back to you. You crouch down to cradle it, stroking its fur and mumbling to it as the coyote comes closer. You’re trying to comfort it. You should be running.

Why aren’t you running? Tomura feels a surge of frustration, mixed in with something sharper, something that pulls his essence into a knot and yanks it tighter. But then he looks at the distance to the back door, which is closed. Then he thinks about how you’d have to carry the dog, which would make it harder to open the door fast. How your back would be to the coyote the whole time, and how it’s probably faster than you are. You stand a better chance if you don’t have your back to it when it attacks you, and that’s why you’re getting to your feet, pushing the dog behind you, facing the coyote and staring it down.

You’re scared. Tomura knows what scared looks like on humans, but that’s not all you are. Your hands are clenched into fists, which means you’re angry, too. Angry that something’s come to the house and hurt your dog. Angry like Tomura is, a new kind of anger, not purposeless but directed towards a single target. This is his house. His house, his yard, his dog, his human. Nothing gets to touch them. Tomura surges forward.

There aren’t insects around, but there’s the grass, and he steals life-force from it, manifesting hands that seize the coyote just as it leaps towards you. It’s the biggest thing he’s ever tried to grasp. It thrashes and snarls, thrumming with life. Tomura could drain it. It’s what his instincts are telling him to do. But it deserves worse than that. It deserves to be scared, just like Tomura’s dog and his human are. Tomura tightens his grip around its throat and wrenches with a fraction of his strength. Even a fraction of his strength is enough to nearly rip its head from its shoulders.

Tomura doesn’t mean to drop the corpse, but he didn’t draw enough life-force from the grass to hold onto his hands for long. The coyote’s body thuds to the ground, and Tomura turns his attention to you and the dog, where it belongs. The two of you have retreated back to the porch, you sprawled back against the back door with the dog in your lap. Your eyes are wide. You look scared.

Tomura feels a twinge of discomfort. He’s never shown himself to a human in the house before, not even a little bit, and right now you look like the people in movies look when something’s haunted them. The people in those movies want to leave their houses when they realize they’re haunted. The first human Tomura’s ever wanted to stay in the house is about to become the next human who leaves.

Then you close your eyes, take a deep breath, open them again. “I don’t know who did that,” you say. You’re looking out at a yard that must look empty to you, but the bulk of Tomura’s essence is in your eyeline, enough that he can convince himself you’re looking at him. “But thank you.”

You get awkwardly to your feet and carry the dog inside, only to come back out a few seconds later to pick up your phone, giving the dead body of the coyote a wide berth. You place a call before the door’s even shut. Tomura can hear you on the phone with the emergency vet, whatever that is, but he can barely focus beyond the strange things that are happening within his essence.

Some part of him is angry, like always, but there are new dimensions to his anger – he’s mad at the coyote for getting in, mad at himself for not doing something about it before the dog got hurt and you got scared. Part of him is relieved that you aren’t packing your things and calling a hotel. And part of him is – is –

Tomura doesn’t know what to call most of the feeling, but it brings the itching along with it, and he knows what to call the itching now. It’s wanting. The itching that makes him feel like crawling out of his essence or curling up so tight inside it that he can’t be found is what it feels like to want something, and unlike the other times he’s felt it since you arrived, Tomura knows what he wants.

The world’s held so little interest to him for so long. He’s been here some piece of time that feels like forever, and he’s lost count of the number of times he wishes he’d been destroyed rather than give up the fight to remain in the world between. He belongs in the world between. Not here.

But now there’s something in this world that the world between could never give to Tomura. You looked at Tomura. You talked to him. All Tomura wants in this world or the next is for you to talk to him again.