#and finally got around to getting it finished for posting

[divinedamsl]

I think about him a normal and healthy amount, please don't let anyone tell you otherwise 🫶🏽

Sydney the loner: @just-dol-headshots

[standfucker]

Post-Injury Hurt/Comfort Series - Monster Trio

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Reader: GN

Word Count: 3.3k

CW: blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, stitches

Ao3 Link

After writing The Break, I've always wanted to do drabbles of the same scenario for other characters, so here we are. ( 0v0)/

Luffy

It happens in an instant. One moment, you’ve brought your mace down on the head of the lion Zoan, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. You collapse next to his body, exhausted from the fight.

The next moment, the lion Zoan lunges at you from the floor, one massive paw smashing into your face with all the strength of their devil fruit, sickle claws tearing your flesh open.

You go flying. You hit the ground hard, leaving a smear of blood from your body skidding. Dazed, you try and get your bearings, berating yourself for letting your guard down early, praying it didn’t cost you the fight. The lion Zoan snarls and charges you.

“Gum-Gum Whip!”

The sight of your captain intercepting your opponent brings a heavy relief–if Luffy’s finished with his own opponent, that means your part is done, too. You can finally catch your breath.

With the rest comes the dull, burning pain across your face. The enemy mostly got you in the nose and mouth, miraculously missing your eyes. Blood runs from your nose and mouth and drips from your chin, bleeding as heavily as a head wound. Still, you’re not too concerned. It’s only when the rest of the crew catches up to you and you try to talk that you realize how much damage the lion did, because not only does speaking hurt, but Nami makes a face at the sight of you.

The local anesthetic that Chopper gives you helps a little bit, but it still hurts when he realigns your nose and stitches up the gashes. Luffy holds your hand the entire time, knowing you hate needles.

“Good job, Y/n!” Luffy says after Chopper’s done. “You’re real tough!”

“Thanks, Captain.” You sigh. “I would have been fine if I hit him again, but I thought he was down. I forgot how resilient Zoans can be.”

“You didn’t want to kill him.”

“I know, I shouldn’t take these fights so lightly–”

“Y/n, that’s a good thing.” Luffy stretches an arm around your shoulder. “You’re a good person. Besides, I was able to take him out easily because of the damage you did.”

“Nami looked horrified when she saw my face,” you say. “I must look like a mess.”

“You do,” Luffy says honestly, making you smile–which pulls on your stitches.

“Owww, oh…smiling hurts.”

“Then don’t smile!”

“I can’t help it. You make me smile. You know this.”

Luffy rubs his chin, eyes rolling up as he thinks. “Then I should stay away from you.”

“Nooo, don’t do that! I need you around to cheer me up! Especially now.” You take his hand that’s hanging around your shoulder, feeling your chest lighten when he squeezes back.

“Well, in that case, I’ll just not make you smile!” he says.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” You chuckle, then look at the mirror hanging on the wall. If you need to lower your mood, there’s an easy shortcut–the combination of your inflamed, swollen skin, plus the stitches make you look nothing short of monstrous.

Luffy notices your face falling. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s going to scar. And not even in a cool way.” Living with severe facial scarring probably won’t be that bad–you are a pirate, after all–but it’ll still be new. And, to be honest, you’re not ready for your appearance to change so dramatically.

“What are you talking about? It’ll be super cool!” Luffy says earnestly. “Everyone will know what a strong pirate you are!”

He’s trying to cheer you up. You don’t want to bring him down in the dumps with you, but you can’t help but be bummed out.

“But what if I don’t want to look cool?” you say. “What if I just want to look like me? I mean, who could possibly find a face like this appealing?” You ghost your fingers over the stitches on your lips. “Who would kiss lips like mine?”

You think you’re holding it in okay, but the admission has you tearing up. You’re being ridiculous–you should be happy to be alive. But why did it have to be your face? Why…

Luffy stares at you in that way he does when he’s thinking. You can’t tell what’s going through his mind.

It happens in an instant.

One moment you’re sitting next to each other in silence. The next moment, he wraps his other arm around you, pulls you in close, and lightly presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

It hurts a little, but it also feels so good that your tears break free and sting where they roll over your cuts.

“Did that hurt? I’m sorry, Y/n,” Luffy says when he pulls away.

“No, no! It was nice! It was really nice.” You have to fight not to smile.

“Oh, good! I liked it too!” he giggles, looking overjoyed.

“When I heal up, will you do that again?”

“I can do it right now!” Luffy says eagerly, but you clear your throat and tilt your head toward the doorway.

Chopper is standing there, little hooves on his hips, thoroughly unimpressed with the both of you and your method of boosting morale.

Zoro

Zoro was always one to downplay his injuries. Next to Chopper, you gave him the most trouble for it out of anyone in the crew. He figured that so long as he got medical attention, the extent of the injuries was no big deal.

He never expected to be on the receiving end.

In the heat of battle, he’s entirely focused on his opponent. This enemy crew is tough, but not the strongest they’ve faced. Strong enough to demand his full concentration.

However, Zoro knows the unique sound of a sword cutting through flesh. When he hears the shhk! noise behind him and remembers you’re also fighting a sword user, he’s so badly distracted he almost gets hit. He has just enough presence of mind to finish off his enemy before turning around.

That’s when he sees you fire a bullet into your opponent’s leg, your free arm wrapped around your stomach. There’s blood seeping between your fingers. In the time it takes him to rush to your side, you shoot your opponent again in the other leg, making him crumple, then once in each arm, rendering him completely unable to fight back from where he lays.

“Yo,” you say casually, but you’re trembling all over. Your torn shirt is staining quickly.

“You got cut,” Zoro states. He tries to pull your arm away so he can see your wound better, but you step back.

“I’m okay,” you say. You and Zoro both look down at your abdomen as you pull your arm away just slightly, and Zoro sees the unmistakable grayish-pink of your large intestine before you quickly plug up the gash with your arm again. You look back up at him. “It’s just a scratch.”

Zoro’s about ready to stab you himself, his eyes going wide with horror and rage. 

“Are you insane?!” he shouts. “A scratch?! Shit, where’s Chopper–?!”

“Ha ha–ow ow ow, hurts to laugh.” You grin, but Zoro notices you tearing up from the pain.

“Okay, just, stay still,” his hands are held up hesitantly, unsure of what to do, and he calls over his shoulder. “CHOPPER! Get over here right now!”

Once Chopper arrives, he applies an emergency field dressing and instructs Zoro on how to safely carry you back to the ship’s infirmary. You act like you’re in high spirits the entire way there, smiling up at Zoro like everything’s fucking dandy.

“This is kinda nice,” you say. “I haven’t been carried since I was little.”

“After you heal,” Zoro says, “I’ll carry you around as much as you want, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he says gently. “Does it hurt?”

“Of course not,” you say, and Zoro curses himself for having asked–he can see you wince with every harsh step he tries to avoid.

“We’re almost there. Almost there.”

“Relax, big guy. I’ve been through worse.”

You haven’t. He’s been in every major fight you’ve been through, and it’s never been this bad. Your blood is still warm on his skin, and your color’s getting paler, and it’s all because he couldn’t protect you.

The surgery takes longer than he thought. He’s pacing the hallway outside the infirmary so much that even Sanji starts to make a comment, which would have started a fight had Robin not intervened and sternly told them both that everyone was worried.

When you come to, it’s to the sight of Zoro standing over your bed. You don’t manage so much as a ‘yo’ before Zoro gets onto his hands and knees, bowing so low his head touches the floor.

“I’ll never let it happen again!” he says, minding his volume–Chopper is only allowing him to visit because Zoro promised he wouldn’t stress you out. “It’s my fault! I’m sorry–”

“Get up.” 

He peers up at you. Your face is twisted up like you’re holding something back, but you force it into a sneer.

“Get up right now, or I’m going to make fun of you,” you say. He hesitates long enough for you to roll your eyes. “Don’t be a pussy.”

That brings him right back to his feet. “What’d you call me?!”

“You heard me,” you say. “I’m alive, aren’t I? So relax.”

“I can’t relax!” Zoro snaps. “You got hurt because of me! I was too weak! I couldn’t–couldn’t stop this from happening!”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever?!” He no longer minds his volume. “How can you be so–so calm about this?!”

“How can you be making this about yourself?”

That shuts him up real quick. Realizing his mistake, Zoro starts to get a sour feeling in his stomach, but you only smile.

“Now you know what it feels like,” you chuckle and wince, “ow–what it feels like to have someone be dismissive of your injuries. So the next time you get hurt, you big dumb idiot, how about you have some self awareness and let me worry?”

Zoro deflates a little. “I still can’t just forgive myself like that.”

“I’ll do it for you.” You hold out your hand until he takes it. “Roronoa Zoro, I forgive you–so long as you do one thing for me.”

He leans in. “Anything. What is it?”

“Even with the pain meds, I’m still sore. Kiss it better?” You smile the way you do when you’re joking, but it soon turns to a look of surprise when Zoro leans in even closer. He hesitates for a moment, face hovering above yours, before his free hand comes to cradle the back of your head and he presses a firm, intent kiss to your lips.

You stare at him when he pulls away, your expression slowly morphing into a smile–not a playful one, not a masking one, but a real smile.

“W-What’s with that look?” Zoro says, flustered now. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“I meant kiss my stomach, dummy.”

Zoro’s eyes widen, but before he can remedy his mistake, you weakly pull him back in for another kiss. This time, he obliges without question.

Sanji

Sanji barely dodges a brutal strike from his opponent, then finishes them off with a flaming kick to the skull. You grin at him as you down your own opponent with a heavy strike from one of your tonfa.

“Careful there, Hotfoot! He almost got you!” you yell gleefully, only to narrowly avoid getting hit yourself.

“Worry about yourself, Sticks!” Sanji calls back, mirroring your grin.

“They’re not sticks!” you say yet again, smashing one of the tonfa into a pirate’s head and knocking them out cold. “You’re just jealous I can fight with my hands!”

“I choose not to fight with my hands!”

“Sure you do!”

You were well aware of Sanji’s commitment to only use his hands to cook, but it was still fun to pretend it was a skill issue. Sanji knew it was all teasing anyway. The two of you greatly enjoyed your banter, whether in or outside of battle. As physical fighters, your rivalry was a friendly one. After all, out of everyone in the crew, you spent the most time talking to each other.

The next wave of pirates comes, this time stronger than before–the enemy’s commanding officers. The battle becomes too serious for you to go on making comments, and your focus gets pulled toward your opponents.

It’s a hard, bloody fight. As soon as he defeats his opponent, he worries about how the others are faring. The rest of the crew is almost done with their own one-on-ones, and he finds himself rushing to find you first, his pace hurrying when he finds one of your tonfa lying off to the side.

You’re straddling your opponent on the ground. Your non-dominant hand is broken, held crookedly against your chest, and you’re bleeding from your hairline and mouth. With your good hand, you beat your tonfa into your opponent’s skull, over and over, a broken cry tumbling from your bloody lips with every strike. Your opponent is no longer moving, but you don’t stop, tears streaming from your eyes as you mash his face to a visceral pulp.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Sanji skids to a stop next to you, grabbing your wrist before you can strike again. “He’s dead! It’s over. It’s over. You won.”

You look at him with wide eyes. Your mouth is held open, and at first, Sanji doesn’t realize what’s wrong, but he can tell you only won by a hair from the way you’re trembling. He gets down and pulls you into a gentle hug. “I got you,” he says. “I got you. You’re okay now.”

He holds you at arm’s length and checks over your body for any injuries, finding none. Mouth still open, you pull away from him and start patting the grass with your good hand, searching for something. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he says. “Please, say something.”

Sanji expects something tired and sarcastic, like ‘you don’t look much better.’ Instead, you make a strange, groaning noise as your response, and he feels a chill run through his body. You always had a quick retort for him, even when things were dire.

You seem to find what you were looking for, your hand closing around something. Sanji helps you stand up, and when you open your hand, he sees a few teeth in your palm that must have gotten knocked out.

“Your jaw’s broken,” Sanji realizes aloud, and you nod, and suddenly the way you hold your mouth open is deeply unsettling.

The silence that follows your surgery, however, puts Sanji at an even greater unease. Your jaw is wired shut to let the bone heal, and Chopper says that for the next six weeks, you won’t be able to speak at all.

You carry around a notepad with you, but for a while after you wake from the anesthesia, you don’t write anything down except to answer Chopper’s questions, opting instead to sulk.

“Come on, Sticks,” Sanji says lightly as he signs the cast on your hand. “I know you have something to say.”

You flick him off with your good hand, then seem to regret it, your face fallin along with your hand. Sighing through your nose, you grab your notepad and scribble something down, then hold it up for him to see.

‘I look like a chipmunk.’

The lower half of your face has, naturally, swollen up. Sanji shakes his head. “No, no, you look fine! You…” A pointed look from you makes him concede. “Okay, yeah. It’s swollen. What did you expect?” You look away, and he pats your shoulder. “Ah, come on, it’s not so bad. Most people find chipmunks cute, you know.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you give him a look of surprise. Sanji stiffens.

“Um, well, I mean…” he stammers. Though he doesn’t leave, for the rest of that day, you both avoid looking at each other.

From the beginning to the end of your healing process, Sanji stays by your side, always finding a way to make you feel better. He’ll hype you up by doing a drumroll while he’s waiting for you to finish writing out a thought, something which the rest of the crew picks up as well. When you’re hanging out with him in the galley, he’ll do hibachi tricks with the food he prepares to cheer you up.

The food he makes for you especially helps you get through the long weeks. You were severely bummed out at having to miss his cooking for weeks–until the first sip of the soup he cooked. You never knew a liquid diet could be so delicious. Sanji takes the time to roast and blend anything you’d wanted. Thanks to him, being unable to chew food doesn’t affect your nutrient intake at all.

He also indulges you in your favorite drink without you having asked, which is surprising. It’s not the first time he’s gone out of his way like this, but it does feel more special when you’ve been in such a vulnerable state.

‘Maybe there’s an upside to this after all.’

Sitting in the galley while Sanji cooks, you hold up your notepad for him to read.

“And what is that?” he says, walking around the prep table with a mixing bowl in his arms, looking down at what you’re writing.

‘I love y’

You pause, staring at your notepad with a weird, dumbstruck look. Sanji’s eyes widen, slowing down his mixing for a second, but you quickly recover and finish scribbling.

‘I love you treating me extra special.’ You hold up the notepad hesitantly, avoiding his eye. 

Though feeling warmth rise in his chest, Sanji plays it cool. “Well, I’m glad you’re finding the positive in this,” he says. “I personally miss the sound of your voice.”

You drop your notepad and fumble to catch it with only one good hand, accidentally smacking it to the floor. Both you and Sanji crouch down to pick it up, and freeze when your hands touch.

The urge to say ‘sorry’ is strong, though you can’t speak. Face burning, all you can do is look at him apologetically and hope he understands. But when you do, he’s looking back at you with the same expression he has when he reads a brand new recipe. Like he’s figuring something out.

You go to pull your hand away, but his fingers close around yours. “I, uh… I really mean that, you know.”

Swallowing, you glance down at his hand holding yours, then back up at him, and nod.

“Y/n,” he says, letting go of your hand to instead cup your cheek tenderly. “Would you… I mean. Can I…?”

With your heart pounding, you nod again, and Sanji leans in. You close your eyes, and a moment later, his lips brush yours, feather-light. Just that barest contact makes your head spin almost as bad as it did when you got your injury in the first place.

Sanji breaks free, and you stare at each other. A slow smile spreads across your lips at the sight of his nose starting to bleed. You both stand up, and you write something down quickly.

‘I’m sorry I can’t kiss you back.’

“That’s okay,” he says, reading the note over your shoulder. He rubs the back of his neck, grinning. “I’ll gladly do all the work.”

And Sanji does, in the quiet, private moments where it’s just the two of you. And yet, when the day finally comes for Chopper to remove the wires, and the first thing you do upon leaving the exam room is call out Sanji’s name, he’s so elated that he picks you up with a spin, kissing you in front of everyone before he can help himself.

[bigfatbimbo]

Hello, my dear!

It is now confirmed that a built AND tall dom is what Vox will ever need in his life. Yo, I truly think that he drools over the idea of this kind of dom. You know that meme of a hamster choking on a banana? Yeah, that's what Vox wants - no, nevermind, that's what he NEEDS.

You've mentioned that he'll want a huge dildo, and I think the fuck yes, dude. He wants that monstrosity in him as soon as you throw him in the bed. How fun must it be to prep him (edge him while you're at it) and have him cum untouched on the first thrust of that thing in him?

Also, tallness = longer and/or bigger fingers. Imagine fingering him while his on his side facing a mirror, make him watch how you're fingers stretch him at the seam. Whisper to him how he feels from your end, tell him how nice and warm and TIGHT he is around your digits, how proud you are because you can feel his insides adjusting to the size of you. Tease him with the idea of slipping all of your fingers in him, maybe he can even take your whole hand while your at it.

And please, do not forget to watch how bright his face glows when he sees the bulge in his stomach from your cock when you finally fuck him.

- 🍆 anon

OH MY GOD GUYS IT’S PENIS ANON 😁 back with another banger, I see.

I’m glad you got ahold of the tall reader post because that goes hand in hand with your built reader thing, and i’m living for it.

And the way Vox would be drooling over this physically powerful dominate lover of his, who completely goes against everything he’s known himself to enjoy (power power power). And it’s that level on nonconformity that turns him on too. Like he is in awe of you fully, he needs you, even.

Oh my god, your idea… with prep… IM GAGGED. Like having him on all fours facing a mirror while you drive your fingers into him, all the while making comments like “So tight” and praising him for how well he’s taking your large fingers, “it must be so much for you to handle, baby, your doing so good.”

He’d literally be a mess before you even use the **massive** strap on him. Like he gets so wrapped up in how you’re working your fingers, he genuinely wants to just take your whole hand.

Oh and I so agree with you, one fucking thrust with the dildo after this, he’s finishing.

[dixons-sunshine]

Punishment Enough | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: After Beth's death, Daryl took it out on himself. He hunted for the group, but refused to feed himself. One day, you've had enough, and you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: Post Terminus; Pre Alexandria.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, blood.

Word count: 3k.

A/n: Alright, here's yet another vamp!Daryl fic to add to the growing number. This was originally supposed to be a 1k word thing, but it got way longer than I had anticipated lol. (ALSO, yes, I know some things in this isn't factual to most vampire things we see online, but I took some creative liberty and wrote it in a way that I liked.) Anyways, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“This is getting out of hand,” your leader and friend, Rick Grimes, whispered to you as he watched Daryl disappear into the woods for the millionth time since your journey on the road began a mere two weeks ago. “He needs to feed. He's going to die otherwise.”

You sighed as you watched one of your closest friends disappear beyond the treeline. You continued your snail's pace of a trek next to Rick, the heat from the blazing summer sun beating down on you relentlessly. Your stomach grumbled with hunger and you were thirsty beyond belief, but you knew that it couldn't compare to the discomfort the archer was experiencing. You had eaten, even if just a little, a few hours ago, while he hadn't fed since Beth had died, which was at that point already two weeks prior.

You knew that if he kept that up, he would die within the next few dies, maybe even the next few hours. He was punishing himself, and soon, he would pay the price for it.

“Rick? I don't mean to interrupt whatever intelligent discussion you were having with miss Y/n over here, but Rosita and I have managed to locate a river on the map not too far from here. If you send two people down to replenish our water supply, we should be ready to move on with our trek in about thirty minutes.”

Rick stared Eugene down for a few moments. You were sure that he was going to turn down the offer, but to your surprise and great relief, Rick finally conceded.

“We need to rest anyway, so okay. An hour. That's all I'm willing to offer up,” Rick told Eugene. Your leader whistled to capture everyone's attention, and raised his voice to be heard clearly. “We stop for now. Eugene says that there's a river not too far from here. Tara, Glenn, you two go refill our water supply. The rest of you, get as much rest as you can. We move again in an hour.”

Everyone nodded and dispersed, leaving you alone with your benevolent leader. You eyed the spot you had last seen Daryl, all the sounds and sights around you being evaporated from your mind. However, you were startled when Rick snapped his fingers in front of your eyes, recapturing your attention again.

“How about you go after him and see if you can talk to him?” Rick suggested, lightly patting you on the shoulder in encouragement. “If there's anyone he might listen to, it's you.”

“No, he won't listen to me,” you denied, a sullen expression on your face. “If he won't even listen to Carol, what chance do I have of getting through to him?”

Rick pursed his lips, trying to keep the words that wanted to spill from his lips to himself. He couldn't betray his found brother's trust like that. He wouldn't. That was something Daryl had to tell you on his own time, even if it took years to do so. All Rick could do in that moment was gently urge you to go talk to the man.

“Believe me, I have a feeling that you might be able to break through to him. Just go try, please? I don't want him to die just because he blames himself for something that isn't his fault.”

You inhaled sharply, but ultimately agreed. “Okay,” you mumbled, handing your bag over to Rick, but keeping your compound bow and knife handy just in case you needed it. “If I'm not back by the time you guys need to move on—”

“We go on without you,” Rick finished for you, slinging your bag over his shoulder. “I know. Just go check on him. See if you can get him to drink from something.”

You sent your leader a small nod, and turned on your heel to disappear into the woods. You walked in the general direction of where you saw the archer disappear, soon finding yourself surrounded by trees and dirt. You kept your eyes on the ground, lazer focused on the faint tracks of the man you were trying to find.

A chittering sound from above you redirected your attention from the ground to the area of where you heard it. Up in a tree, on a branch low enough to reach if you jumped, you spotted a total of three squirrels, all sitting in a straight line as they went on doing whatever squirrels fancied as entertainment. They were blissfully unaware of your lurking presence, so it made it easy to line up the shot perfectly.

By some stroke of luck, the arrow found it's mark in all three squirrels. Proud and a little giddy at the prospect of food, you walked towards the tree and jumped to get your prey from the branch. Marveling at the kill you made, you almost missed the sound of a twig snapping in the distance. Almost.

On instinct, you dropped the arrow holding the three squirrels and loaded your bow with another arrow, turning around and releasing it in the direction of the sound. The arrow flew towards the walker, but the walker caught it with ease. Calming down and allowing your eyes to adjust, you could see that it was not a walker. Instead, it was the very man you were tracking down.

Daryl Dixon.

“If ya wanna kill me, yer gon' have to do a lot better than an arrow,” Daryl mused, walking towards you to hand the deadly object back to you. “Wha' the hell are ya doin' here?”

“Looking for you,” you stated matter-of-factly, putting your arrow away. You looked up into Daryl's eyes, but instead of finding the usual blue irises that you have grown to love, you found red coloured ones in their place. A clear sign that he was starving. “We're worried about you. Rick thought I might be able to talk some sense into you.”

“Dun' need someone to talk no sense into me,” Daryl grumbled, turning around to stalk away again. “M'fine. Dun' need no damn babysitter. Leave me alone.”

Picking up the dead squirrels from the ground, you took off in a jog behind Daryl to keep up with his speed. Even though he was only walking, his enhanced speed made his pace faster than the average human's, hence why if he wanted to, he could lose you with ease.

“Daryl! Daryl, wait!” you pleaded with him, finally catching up enough to grab his arm. “Daryl—”

“I said, leave me alone, damnit!” Daryl roared, spinning around to look at you. A furious glare painted his features, but instead of being met with fear, he was met with a stubborn glare instead. Well, he could give you points for that, but he wouldn't give in to whatever you wanted from him. “Wha' dun' ya understand? I dun' need yer concern or yer company. M'fine on my own. I've been alone for decades. Dun' need to change tha' now.”

“Daryl, you need to feed,” you explained as calmly as you could, trying to keep your anger in check. It wouldn't do anyone any good if you were to snap at him right at that moment.

“M'fine,” Daryl replied stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

“Really? Because if you were fine, your eyes wouldn't be red right now,” you countered, motioning to his eyes. “Do you wanna die, Daryl? Because if you don't feed, that's exactly what's gonna happen.”

“Dun' need ya to lecture me, woman!” Daryl exclaimed loudly, waving his hand around in anger. “I know my own damn body better than ya do! I've been like this for a long time. I know when I need to feed and when I dun'!”

“Then why the fuck can't you see that you need to feed right now?!” you snapped, pushing Daryl's chest for emphasis. The man barely moved, his inhuman strength countering your attempts to sway him.“I may not be a vampire, and I may not know exactly how being one works, but I do know that you're either going to die, or lose control and hurt one of us. Is that what you want? Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't have to use all of your willpower to refrain from lunging at me and draining all of the blood from my body. Tell me that drinking my blood doesn't sound good to you right now.”

Daryl's silence only confirmed your suspicions. You scoffed and shook your head, taking one of the squirrels off the arrow and extending it towards the stubborn archer.

“Feed. Don't even think about saying no because I swear I'll fucking kill you.”

He knew there was no use of yelling at you anymore. What was the use of getting mad at you for caring about him? If anything, knowing that you did made him feel all funny inside. However, Daryl still shook his head in denial, refusing to take the dead animal from you. “Nah. Y'all need the meat to survive. If I drink the blood, my venom will taint the meat and then y'all can't eat it.”

“Taint the meat?” you questioned in confusion, furrowing your eyebrows. “I've seen you drink from a human before and they didn't turn. How's this any different?”

“Humans are different,” Daryl explained. “M'not gon' explain it to ya because I dun' even fully understand myself, but all I know is we dun' have control over our venom when it comes to animals. We do with humans. Tha's the most basic explanation I have fer ya.”

You nodded in understanding. You scanned your surroundings for a moment before your eyes fell on an empty can, and you had a lightbulb moment. You walked over to pick up the aforementioned object, before crouching down. You picked up one of the squirrels and, very carefully so that you didn't accidentally nick your finger, cut it in multiple places to drain it of its blood, into the can.

You could hear Daryl inhale sharply when the smell of blood flooded his nostrils. His already bloodred eyes darkened, and you could tell that his self-restraint was dwindling by the second. You had to make quick work of your activities, and fast, otherwise Daryl would lunge for the blood. And you didn't know whether or not the blood he went for would be the squirrel's, or yours.

Once the can was practically overflowing with blood, you hastily got up and pushed the object into his hands, some blood trickling over the edge and onto his hands.

“Drink,” you ordered him, leaving no room for argument.

Grumbling to himself, he brought the can up to his lips to slowly take a sip. However, as soon as that first drop of blood fell on his tongue, he drank the rest of it in hurried, messy gulps. Blood trickled down the sides of his mouth, and you had to resist the urge to bring your hands up to wipe the blood away.

In five seconds flat, the entire can was empty. Some colour returned to the archer's cheeks, and his eyes slightly changed from a deep crimson to a dull red. However, even though Daryl handed the can back to you as a way to say he was done, you knew it wasn't nearly enough. He needed way more than that, even if he wouldn't admit it. And, come hell or high water, you would make sure he drank more.

“Thanks,” Daryl mumbled, wiping at the blood and making an even bigger mess on his face. “Ya satisfied now?”

“Not even remotely,” you mused, picking up the three dead squirrels, one of which now had its blood drained, and offered one of them to him. “Here, take it. We need to head back and there isn't time to drain another one for you. Don't worry about one lousy squirrel. We'll survive.”

“But—”

“No buts, Daryl,” you cut him off, forcing the dead critter into his hands. You picked up your knife and sheathed it, before adjusting your bow on your back. You sent Daryl a look and walked off, calling to him over your shoulder. “C'mon. We gotta go.”

Cleverly sensing that there was no room for argument, Daryl followed behind you with a frustrated huff, shaking his head to himself at your stubbornness. However, your stubbornness was one of the many traits that made him feel drawn to you, one of the many things that made you perfect in his eyes. Well, it was perfect when the stubbornness wasn't directed towards him.

Unable to resist the urge any longer due to the taste he got from it earlier, Daryl brought the squirrel up to his mouth. He sunk his fangs into the dead animal and began to drink mouthfuls of the delicious crimson, his deep hunger not going away but being satiated for the time being.

“You need to stop this, Dar,” you began, shaking your head to yourself. “You need to stop punishing yourself. Beth's death isn't your fault. You need to know that. And you need to stop punishing yourself for it. Beth wouldn't want you to starve yourself. You know she wouldn't, so stop doing it, please. Blaming yourself for a death that wasn't even remotely your fault is punishment enough.”

Daryl drained the squirrel of the last of its blood, before withdrawing his mouth from the creature. He stared at you in wonder, walking beside you silently as he pondered over your words. He didn't believe that Beth's death wasn't his fault. He probably never would, but what he did believe was that Beth wouldn't want him to die. The girl voiced in so many different ways that she wanted him to live. And even though he felt terrible about her death, he decided that he would honour her. He would live because she couldn't. He would honour her by doing what she wanted him to do—he would live.

And, once he built up enough courage for it, he would honour her by following her advice and admitting his feelings to you.

The two of you walked from the treeline and back towards where the rest of the group rested. When the two of you made yourselves known, everyone looked up and shared similar looks of relief at the sight of the blood on Daryl's face and the drained squirrel in his hands.

Everyone except Gabriel, who looked at Daryl in disgust and fear, but was wise enough not to say anything. The last time he had voiced his obvious disdain towards the archer because of what he was, he was met with a punch from you and quite the amount of hateful words and glares from the rest of the group. It was clear that nobody would stand for anything but acceptance towards what Daryl was, and he appreciated that.

“Glad to see you're looking better, brother,” Rick voiced to Daryl, getting up to give his found brother a quick hug.

“Thanks,” Daryl thanked him, patting him lightly on the back before withdrawing from the hug. “She wouldn't let me not drink anythin', so ya really should be glad 'bout her. And she found y'all some dinner.”

“Sweet!” Carl voiced excitedly, eliciting a bunch of laughs from most of the adults there. “My dad found us a few rabbits, too.”

Rick took the squirrels from you with a grateful nod. “Seems like we're gonna be here for another hour or so. Let's cook these up, get ourselves regenerated.”

As everyone fell into their own separate conversations and Rick and Carl took it upon themselves to start a small fire, you walked over to a tree before sliding down against it, looking up at Daryl who had followed you there.

“M'surprised ya didn't offer yer blood to me,” Daryl told you, sliding down next to you.

“Why the hell would I do that?” you asked him in genuine confusion, staring into his eyes that were busy turning back to their usual beautiful blues.

“The ladies back at the prison always offered their blood to me when I couldn't feed on animals. Figured ya'd do the same.”

“Yeah, no. I like you and all, but that's not something you're gonna get from me anytime soon, no matter how hot you are,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“Ya think m'hot?” Daryl asked in surprise, eyeing you with a small smile.

“I—shut up. Don't let it go to your head,” you mumbled, hugging your knees to your chest.

Daryl chuckled. “I won't,” he promised, looking over at you with a soft look in his eyes. “Thanks again. Fer the squirrel and the lecture. I know I said I didn't need it, but I did. So, thanks.”

You smiled and brought one of your hands up to rest on Daryl's knee, rubbing your thumb against it softly. “Of course. I'd do anything for you, Daryl.”

Daryl ducked his head in shyness. However, he couldn't help the way he felt about you. In less than an hour, you had managed to track him down, give him a much needed lecture, and made him feed on something. You truly were amazing to him, but he didn't know if you'd ever feel the same about him. The two of you were so vastly different, in personalities and species, so he wouldn't be surprised if his feelings were one-sided.

Unbeknownst to him at the time, however, you did feel the same. And that first night in Alexandria, you showed him exactly how you felt about him.

[thecapricunt1616]

Saffron - c.b. one-shot

♡ O/S Inspo: For thousands of years, Saffron has been used to boost libido in both men and women. In Greek mythology, Zeus himself used the spice as a sexual stimulant. Traditional Eastern medicine also recommends it as an aphrodisiac.

♡ Summary: You have just been invited to star in your very first music video as a dancer - so of course you're a bundle of nerves, but your lovely Bear knows just how to help you relax.

♡ W/C: 1,947

♡ Posted Date: 05/16/2024

♡ A/N: Hi, Hey, Hello all! Hello to all my new followers omg 💖 I am so happy you’re here! This one shot is based on ♡ this ♡ request by @bbyseojun ! I hope this is what you were looking for when you requested it 🫶 I'm so so soooooo sorry that this got lost in my docs! Eek sorry about that :( Per usual requests are OPEN! I love doing them, I hope to get more in the future (promise they won't take as long as this one hehe) ☺️💖

♡ Warnings for BTC: smut smut smut - more smut - swearing (not edited that well SORRY) - tis all I believe! No use of Y/N & Black!Fem!Reader friendly. ♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You had finally gotten your big break. Today was the first day of your music video shoots for one of the biggest up and coming female rappers in the industry, and you couldn’t be more stoked. You could hardly sleep last night due to your excitement.

You had been a dancer in Chicago for 4 years now, well - not full time. You of course between gigs waitressed @ The Beef — which is where you met your beloved boyfriend. You had worked for Mikey for about a year before he took his life. That was the thing that no one saw coming. When you came in to work the night after it happened and Richie wasn’t there - you knew something was extremely off. 

When Carmy came back to Chicago you were a bit shocked that he actually accepted the offer of taking the restaurant over. You two got close very quickly, and you were able to help fill in the gaps of what Michael wasn’t telling him so he could better process his death. 

Your romantic relationship bloomed faster then Carmen expected - but if he was honest he couldn’t get enough of you. The days you were off doing auditions or gigs he found himself missing you around the restaurant, giving you little playful spanks as you shuffled past him at his station while running food to the front of the restaurant, as well as sneaky make out sessions right before lunch or dinner rush in the dry storage. 

Your alarm went off at 4:55 and you hopped out of bed, starting the shower and Carmy was still snoring. He had no alarms set because he was taking you today, and would be on set with you. You at first had felt like he was babying you, or felt as if you couldn’t handle getting there yourself because you’d expressed confusion about the set location. 

He’d explained after a heated screaming match after closing one night last week, that you ‘weren’t allowed the time off if y’were gonna be a brat ‘bout him comin w’you’ and that ‘he knows models who have worked music videos and there are fuckos and pervs he doesn’t want you around’ so he was simply going to ‘keep you safe’ 

He took you at the expo table after you’d expressed if he just said he was doing it because he loved you and not because he thought you were incompetent you would have submitted to his request. That led to his thick hand around your throat and lips to the shell of your ear hissing into your sweaty skin

“Y’need me t’show you how much I love you? Mmm? Want me t’show you how I own this fuckin pussy? Huh? That big fuckin mouth isn’t runnin’ T’much now that I’m givin y’what y’been beggin me for all fuckin day yeah?” 

 By the time you’d finished your shower, Carmy was up, drinking his black cold brew packed with ice in a 32 oz deli container as you buzzed around the bedroom, toothbrush in your mouth and fluffy black towel wrapped taut around your figure. 

“Y’know it’s only 5:40, right?” He said, looking up from his phone. He was likely checking his emails, or obsessively texting Sydney - making sure she was awake and headed to the restaurant to be there for truck since today was the first day he was leaving her on her own. 

“Fiffe footy?!?” You exclaim through toothpaste and dropped your towel, his pupils going twice their size as your breasts bounced around while you hopped into a clean pair of seamless painties, before grabbing a bralette from the top draw. You slipped it on, rushing and sitting on the bed and he clips it for you by nature before you adjusted your chest and skittered back off to the bathroom

“Start the fuckin car!!! Jesus!!!” You snap, stressed and annoyed he was still laxely sprawled on the bed enjoying his coffee and catching up on his phone. 

“Fuuuckin Christ!!! Y’gonna be like this all day?” He huffed, opening his draw and grabbing a pair of jeans and a white shirt, slipping them on. “Lucky I take my showers at night” he grumbled. 

“Scuse me?” You snipped with a slight smile “who’s lucky for what?” You challenge. 

“Nothing” he scoffed, knowing if he tried you he’d not be touched for a week. “I love you” he said to try to smooth things over as he grabbed the keys and went downstairs to start the car and you smirked to yourself, slipping on your grey sweats and tank top before slicking your hair into a bun. 

By the time he was back, he comes and gives you gentle kisses on the back of your neck, gently rubbing over your belly and finding purchase on your hips before squeezing sweetly. “ Is someone nervous? Mm?” He mumbled into your skin and trailed his fingers underneath, goosebumps appearing on your skin at the contact. 

“Why wouldn’t I be nervous? And you’re movin’ all slow” you whine and he gently kisses your bare shoulder, trailing gentle pecks up to your neck 

“Relax” he said in that soft sweet way, tucking his fingers in your waistband. “Y’know we don’t have to be there till 8:45. It’s not even 6 baby the drive won’t take that long” he kissed that sweet spot right under your ear. 

“How am I supposed to relax when I’m about to do the biggest gig of my life this is like- this is like you with your stars!” You watch him in the mirror, gently nibbling on your earlobe gently, sucking on it. He stopped to chuckle lightly and you slap his thigh 

“Babe I know, I know it’s important - ‘s just funny cause you never know when Y’gonna get tested t’get a star it’s not like a fuckin…bar exam ‘er somethin. But y’gotta relax sweetheart” he dipped his fingers in the waistband of your panties “lemme help yeah? Make y’feel good?” He mumbled into your skin. 

“Carmy” you breathe as he rubs his thick calloused fingers over your mound. “Carmy” you drop your head back on his shoulder, guard falling down immediately. Every thought melted from your mind, your knees went wobbly, toes curling slightly. He knew exactly how to get you going, exactly which buttons to push. You felt his lips trail your jaw, careful to not nip hard enough to leave a bruise. 

“You know what to say if Y’don’t want me to” he reminded you, stilling his fingers for a moment to give your thoughts a moment to clear. You opened your eyes once more, seeing his piercing blue ones wide and enlarged with desire, tip of his nose red from the chilly morning air and lips slightly swollen from his inability to keep his lips from trailing your skin. 

“I want to” the words left your lips without even needing to think and with your permission he watched your blissed out expression in the mirror as he spread your folds with his fingers, before dipping his digit in your slick and swirling it back and forth gently over your swelling nub. He placed a sweet kiss to your shoulder, his breath hot and sending goosebumps spreading over your skin. 

In the mirror you saw your nipples had become rock hard beneath the fabric of your bralette, your eyes trailing down to see Carmy’s hand working beneath the soft fabric of your sweatpants. “Feel good baby? Mm?” He asked gently, pressing you more against the counter since your knees were getting weaker. You responded with a breathy moan and gentle nod, grinding into his hand. “Wait- wait princess won’t feel as good mm? Trust me” he stilled your hips and continued rubbing wide, gentle circles into your folds. 

“Please need you so bad-“ you whined out, feeling as if you sounded a bit pathetic but you didn’t care - the only thing bouncing around your mind was you needed release, and soon. 

“I know princess, y’gettin there” he drags your juices up to your clit, circling gently at first but quickening his circles before switching to strokes back and forth that had your hips bucking forward and a sharp gasp passing your lips. “See” he said gently, a smug smile on his lips as he rubs down, feeling over your entrance and teasing it with the pad of his finger. You bit your lip, looking at him in the mirror. 

“You’re such a tease” you whined out, and he thrust his finger inside you, causing your jaw to drop and a whimper to fall out of your mouth, gripping the counter with white knuckles for stability 

“Am I?” He mused, pushing past the first knuckle, then the second, achingly slow. He curled it in, trying to find that special spot “You look so pretty when you relax like this, mm princess?” He kept your gaze in the mirror, watching every twitch and gasp. You felt his cock pressing hard against your ass, you could only imagine the wet patch on his sweatpants and it made a wave of warmth flood your lower belly at the idea he’s going to have to change them before you leave. 

“You wanna fuck me? Huh? Right here in front of the mirror?” You asked, voice breathy and needy. He found the spot and pressed it with the pad of his finger, rolling your clit under his palm - the sensation on both ends of your most sensitive bit was enough for you to see stars in your vision at the stimulation. You leaned on the counter feeling weak and he lifted you with his other arm, holding you flush to his chest and wrapping his hand around your neck just enough for your head to feel light.

“You think you could handle me kitten?” He asked in the shell of your ear, adding his ring finger and thrusting them quicker. You went to moan, but you were so blissed out it came out more like a squeak. “Huh? Did ya’ say somethin’ pretty girl? Could barely hear you y’pussy is so wet” he teased, curling and uncurling his fingers to exaggerate his point, the squelch of his fingers nearly drowning out your whimper that soon followed.

“Cumming” you moaned hotly, resting your hand on his forearm, squeezing gently to tell him to add more pressure on your throat. He got the message of course, he always did. He had your body memorized as well as he did every cooking temp in the book. You leaned into the counter as your knees shook and he supported you with his arm, working you through it and whispering praise into your skin.

“See? Thas’ my good girl yeah? Jus’ needed some help lettin’ go mm? Feelin’ better now princess?” he worked you down, rubbing you gently. Your hips twitched and he chuckled a bit “Needa sit?” he asked gently and ran his hand from your neck down your chest, rubbing over your ribs sweetly. 

“No-” you said once you got your mind right again whining a bit when he took his hand out. “M’sorry for being mean” you said softly, looking at him in the mirror. He gently kissed the top of your head, lingering for a moment and closing his eyes. You closed yours as well, leaning against him and savoring the moment. You did feel much better, you felt much lighter, even though there was an infrequent twitch between your legs as your body rode out the wave. It was all pleasant, though.  “Y’aren’t mean baby. Just a little sassy” He spanks you lightly. “I’m gonna shower, go stretch out n'we can leave when m’done - ye’?”

[amberluvsbugs]

My reaction to the news you just posted:

I saw your 'I lost someone' post a few days ago, and I have no clue what was going through that person's head for them to do that. Neither you, your co-workers, nor anyone in the fandom who may be suffering from illness deserved to be deceived like that.

My heart goes out to you, and I hope you're doing okay now. 💖

(If you're comfortable clarifying this for anyone who didn't see that post and may want to know the full context (no stress if you don't want to ofc), was Ari initially claiming to be dying of cancer or was it something else? Either way, it's still disgusting what they did.)

thank you it really means a lot. ;;;; In case anyone didnt see the post I made a while back, this is the full story for clarification: This all started on April 29th when I received a DM from my co-worker Toby, saying that a Poppy Playtime fan and friend we will call Ari, who he told me was 18 and has come to know for a solid year, was set to be sedated on May 6th due to having an incurable cancer. Because of this, he wanted me to create an illustration for her before she passed which I immediately took up the offer. Now, for clarification, I don't trust what anyone says in the PPT community. I am aware of how immature and dangerous the community can be. But when it's coming from someone I know and trust, I put my trust forward on that person. I don't mess around when it comes to someone nearing their death. So I got in contact with her, made sure she saw the illustration I made for her, and for the past week after work hours, I would talk with her in VCs and chill at every chance I got to make sure she was happy and having a good time. She acted very kind and sweet to me and so many others who would join the VC as they also soon came to know of her upcoming passing as well. On Saturday, May 4th we hosted a podcast for her as a subtle final farewell to the whole server. And on Sunday evening at 5 pm, me and Toby talked with her one last time in a private vc until she had to take her final leave from Discord. At 6 pm, me and Toby stayed on call listening to the Caretaker album fully (as we both had a big fascination for The Caretaker album, Everywhere At The End Of Time) as a sort of timer to let us know when she had passed, as we knew in 6 hours she would be sedated. At 1 am on Monday morning, The album finished. We both cried so hard it gave us headaches. I only got to really know her for a short time, but at that moment, she made such an impact on me and so many others in the PPT server and community. We had made art dedicated to her and I had even laid out a post for her. Everyone was mourning over Ari’s departure and for 4 days me and Toby were a MESS of emotions of grief. That was until I received a message from Toby on Thursday, May 9th, saying he needed to speak to me urgently in call. Toby told me that he had been watching Ari's activity and found something off with it as it had recently gone active a few times. I told him that maybe it was her friend having access to her account in her passing but Toby immediately showed me proof of the activity that's been going on in another server and on her Roblox account that she had. And that's when we needed proof or confirmation. For the past 4 hours, we did our research to find leads on her. We eventually found her school which apparently confirmed that she was 14, NOT 18, and we got in contact with her parents and asked them about Ari to which they were confused about this whole thing and told us that she was here. Which CONFIRMED that she was still ALIVE. We filled in on the parents for what Ari did and she is no longer going to have access to her electronics. We were both devastated at this point and absolutely furious. Everything we did for her, and the community, was all for nothing. She used and fooled us by a means to get attention and to specifically get in contact with Toby and be forward with him as a minor. We dedicated hours and days to her, mourned and cried for her, all for it to be crumbled down into a fake death. We were beyond disappointed, me especially as I don't take kindly to this sort of thing. I don't get mad. In fact, I try to be a kind person to everyone, but the fact someone would take advantage and play death like this to us for attention is disgusting and just wrong. I have moved on from this but please don't make this a big deal. They were 14 and this will not stop me from doing what I love for the PPT community or whatnot. It's just a life lesson I will take to heart and be careful to not put my full trust in someone unless I have clarification that they are indeed going through a death-like situation like this.

[sturnsbabie]

DEAR GRACIE

PART FIVE: TWINS BIRTHDAY

pairing: dad!nate x sls!reader

summary: nate sls and the twins celebrate the twins first birthday.

warnings:crying,fluff.

today my babies were a year old. i have been emotional and crying all day long as i now have two one year olds.

we were just gonna spend the day together just nate owen leo and i. we would be having a birthday party with both of our families but we just wanted this day to be for us and the twins.

we were taking them to the aquarium as the boys have been obsessed with sea animals. owen loves sharks and leo loves fishes.

the twins were currently asleep in nate and i’s bed taking a nap while nate and i got ourselves ready for the day.

nate had on a shirt with some jeans and i put on a pair of leggings and nates hoodie. i was so big now i barely fit in my own clothes so i started to wear nates because they were more comfy then maternity clothes.

i looked on the bed at the twins asleep and started to burst out into tears again.

“baby whats wrong” nate chuckled as he pulled me into his arms hugging me.

“my babies are one year olds now” i cried into his chest.

he rubbed my back as he kissed my forehead. “i know baby theyre getting so big.” nate said.

the twins were already dressed we were just waiting for them to wake up before we headed to the aquarium. we had a busy day then in the morning we were catching a flight to la for the twins to see their uncles as a birthday trip.

we were taking the twins for la for two weeks to visit with my brothers and to film some videos with them for their channel.

.•°♡°•.

it had been a while since the twins woke up from their nap and we were now currently on our way to the aquarium.

i was on my phone gathering pictures together for a instagram post for their birthday as i was teary eyed looking at pictures from when they were first born.

yn.sturniolo: happy 1st birthday, to my two babies.mama loves you both so much<3

❤️10,000 likes 💬 4,000 comments

christophersturniolo: happy bday owie and lo uncle chris loves u

nicolassturniolo: happy birthday babies

matthew.sturniolo: happy birthday owen and leo

nathandoe8: my babies r growing so fast

user: theyre one already!?

user: happy birthday to everyones favs in the sturniolo fandom

user: happy bday mini chris and matt

user: cuties

VIEW MORE COMMENTS…

.•°♡°•.

we were now finally at the aquarium and the twins were both excited to see the all the sharks and fishes.

we had them on their little backpack leashes so they could walk around.

it was so cute watching how excited they both were. we were currently looking at the big fish aquarium and leo was squealing at how happy he was to see them.

“dada fishie!!” he squealed as he pointed at the fish.

“yes buddy theres fishies”nate chuckled as he was holding leos leash.

i had owen on the leash and he turned around looking at me.

“mommy hold u!” owen said and that meant that he wanted me to hold him.

i leant down and picked him up as he laid his head on my chest as we looked around at the fishes.

once we finished looking at the fish it was now time to go look at the sharks with owen.

“mommy!sharks!”owen squealed and jumped out of my arms running over to the sharks as i had him on the backpack leash still.

it was so cute how excited he had got just by seeing the sharks.

“mommy look!”owen giggled.

.•°♡°•.

we had just got back from the aquarium and now we were lighting the twins cakes for their birthday.

they each had their own little cake and nate and i got us some cupcakes to eat with them.

i carried owens cake and nate carried leos cake into the living room where they sat in their highchairs.

“happy birthday to youuuu”nate and i both started to sing as we sat their cakes down in front of them.

“happy birfday me” owen sang as he giggled trying to blow out the candles as i started to cry at how cute he was being.

the twins couldnt blow out the candles so we helped them then took the candle off so they could enjoy their cake.

owen smashed his face into the cake and leo grabbed a fistfull of cake and started to eat it.

nate and i looked at eachother giggling as we watched them. i pulled out my phone snapping a few pictures.

after we all had cake we gave the twins a bath and we were now all laying in bed cuddling and watching the cars movie because the twins were obsessed with that movie.

they had a pretty good first birthday, and i couldnt wait to see them become big brothers.

taglist: @sturniololoves , @milesfordays11 , @freshloveee , @zayyluvz @luvr4miya , @delusional-4-fake-people

[silversnakedemon]

Mini Mega

I’ve been obsessed with SAF for over a year now and I finally got around to crocheting the Agent Curt Mega himself.

(More photos, explanations, and my cat under the cut)

I decided to do Curt’s casino outfit because it is my second favourite outfit from the musical, and it is easy to do lol. My favourite outfit, with the black and red jacket, is quite annoying to make. I have made a version of the jacket before for a different crochet doll (which I might post if I ever finish him), and though I liked how it turned out, I don’t want to do that again lol.

I’m very happy with how this doll turned out though, especially the hair since I tried a new technique and it worked for the most part - I just couldn’t get the parting perfect but oh well.

Anyways, here’s the photos I promised:

My cat, Biggles, thought that Curt was a mouse and so oops. Don’t worry he’s completely fine, but I’m not letting Biggles near him again lol

[toshisurtsdottir]

Rape and Retribution - Chapter 1

Yesterday, I asked if you'd like to read my Turpin fanfic. I decided that I'd upload it, see how it goes and if it goes well I'll keep posting it :) Technically, it's finished BUT there are a lot of scenes in between that are missing which I might add - we'll see. OH AND: It's kinda fluffy?? But also pretty dark. Idk. Find out I guess haha WARNINGS (for the entire fanfic): mentions of rape, rape, mentions of violent torture, violence, death, murder, NSFW ... and many more

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Summary: Toshi Vernier has a plan for her future. To gain her freedom, she has to get in contact with the ruthless Judge Turpin. He has other plans for her.

On the bustling streets of London, a thief could easily walk past dozens of people unnoticed by any of them. Today, Toshi had no intention of stealing, however. She had something else in mind entirely, something that was part one of her big path to freedom. The young woman was dressed up in men’s clothes: grey pants, an off-white blouse and a grey vest. Her long, white hair was hidden beneath a hat that had seen better days, but it served its purpose. From afar, one might say that she was just a small man going about his business. A bit shady looking perhaps, but that was the usual.

She was stalking around the courthouse, waiting patiently for Judge Turpin to emerge. She knew he would sooner than later. She had studied his behaviour for a few days now, finding out his schedule. Right on time, the heavy doors swung open and two men emerged. The tall judge, wearing a long coat that would make anyone else who wore it seem small. It seemed to be working the opposite on him, it just made him taller. Next to him, the Beadle. Beadle Bamford was a small man, rattish and always on the judge’s heels. Toshi eyed the Beadle angrily. He was one of the men who had, once or twice, taken her father’s offer to use Toshi’s body for their own pleasure. Toshi didn’t remember how often he had had her, she usually erased these encounters from her memory. But she knew he had taken her at least once. As she stared at him, her jaw and fists clenched, she failed to notice that the Beadle had bid the judge goodbye and was now headed the opposite direction. She almost wasted her chance as Turpin made his way down the main street, nearly getting swallowed in the crowd. Toshi snapped out of it and shook her head, snaking her way through the masses of people until she could almost reach him. She would follow him until he was in a more secluded place, then she would talk to him. She had trouble keeping up with the man. People got out of his way (he was a person of power after all) but they kept getting in Toshi’s. Finally, after a few minutes of her struggling to keep up, Turpin turned into a less frequented street. This was her chance.

“Judge Turpin! My Lord!” She called out, quickly jogging up to him. Clearly irritated, he turned around, his eyes instantly fixed on her figure. His nose scrunched up in disgust and he was about to turn and walk off when Toshi spoke a second time. “Please Sir, hear me out! I have important news you must know, my Lord!” She wasn’t one to address people by their titles, or show any kind of manners, but she needed to in this situation. She knew about Turpin that he saw everyone else beneath him and wanted them to treat him accordingly. “Spit it out, boy.” He hissed, albeit he didn’t stop walking or slowed down. Toshi was already out of breath, keeping up with him and speaking at the same time was a hard task to do. “My Lord, your life might be in danger! I came to –“ she stumbled over a small rock “- to warn you!”

Turpin then stopped dead in his tracks, causing Toshi to almost smack into him. He turned around, slowly, his eyes wandering from her face down to her chest (where they seemed to linger for a while), then down to her feet and finally flicked back up to her face. “And what, may I ask, makes you think so? The scum that inhabits these streets usually wants me dead. These are not news. You are wasting my time, child.” He hissed in a low tone, his jaw clenched. “Please, Sir. I am referring to a man known as Sweeney Todd. You see, my Lord, he is not who he seems. Or so they say.” She fumbled with the buttons on her vest nervously. She wasn’t one to get nervous in front of men. Her usual feeling towards them was rage. But he was dangerous, truly dangerous. And she was playing an even more dangerous game right now. “Todd?” He tilted his head, waiting for her to go into detail. Toshi didn’t want to let him wait.

“Yes, Sir. I’ve heard people say his true name is Benjamin Barker. Lost his wife and daughter… say he’s out to get revenge, my Lord.”

The last month, ever since getting that information, she had done a lot of research on Barker and Turpin. She knew that Turpin was responsible for Barker’s ruined life. She needed to get on the Judge’s good side (a vital bit of her freedom plan) and since she had no money to bribe him (unlike others), she hoped vital information would suffice.

Turpin’s eyes remained fixed on hers, a tired expression on his face. If this news worried him, he certainly didn’t let it show. “Benjamin Barker you say?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice a long drawl.. Toshi only nodded in response, hoping that he would like the information she had just given him. “He is supposedly back in his old home currently, in Fleet Street, working as a barber as he did before.” And after a pause: “My Lord.” Something then changed in Turpin’s expression. It seemed to be a mixture of worry, anger and something that Toshi couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Who are you?” He frowned, his eyes flicking down to her chest again.

“My name is Toshi Vernier, Sir.” Clearly, her name didn’t give him more insight on her gender, as his eyes kept flicking from her face to her chest. “I’m dressed as a man, so you’d listen to me, my Lord.” She quickly added. His expression softened as soon as he heard her say that. The fact she was female somehow changed his demeanour. “I see.” A long pause followed as he once more eyed her as if to confirm what she had just said. “I assume, given your disguise and secretive manner, that you want something in return for this information.” He sighed. Toshi wondered if he was used to this kind of exchange. She could imagine that most people would approach him to gain his favour. She wondered how many people actually got it.“I might, my Lord. If this information saves your life, I would like you to remember that I was the one to give it to you.” She nodded, taking off her hat, looking up at him hopefully.

Turpin walked closer to her, causing her to back up a little. Before she could get too far away, however, he grabbed her by the collar and roughly pulled her closer to him, his face only inches away from hers.

“If I find out that you’ve lied to me, that you’re somehow involved in this, I will make sure you’ll rot in a cell for the rest of your unworthy life.” He hissed, shook her and then pushed her away from him. She stumbled back into a nearby wall. He smirked, satisfied by his action, and turned around to leave.

Toshi’s heart was beating out of her chest as she watched him leave. This had gone exceptionally well in her mind.

[6sweetvalentine9]

Two's Company, Three's a Crowd

Heyo ! First fic done in a while lets goooooo hope you enjoy! (its also on AO3!)

Synopsis: Maybe having a quickie with your boyfriend in the hallway of your old high school isn't the smartest idea. Or is it?

Characters(s): Choso, Gojo, Geto

tw: 18+, smut (jumps right into it lol), p in v, breeding kink, exhibitionism, teasing, praising, caught, semi-public, oral (receiving),

wc: 8.5k (jeez)

A/N: I'm not even kidding it took me months to finish this so hopefully posting it will help motivate me to write more. Lowkey went wild with this so enjoy, them boys boutta DESTROY you

“Shhhh, gotta be quiet baby or someone could hear us.”

Choso’s hand presses tight against your mouth to muffle your moans, as if the whines leaving his mouth weren’t just as loud. He’s got your clothed back pressed against the wall, one leg hiked up around his broad waist as he drills his cock into you from under your skirt. The shlick and slap of his balls slamming onto your cunt makes your head roll down against your chest, fucked out of your mind.

—————

You were supposed to debrief at Jujutsu High after a mission and get back to lesson planning, but your giant puppy of a boyfriend just couldn’t leave you alone.

“Please baby, please,” he pleaded as he led you down an empty hallway, pushing you lightly against the wall of lockers, “Please just let me put it in quickly, please? You look so good, and I missed you so much while you were away. Please, I need you.”

He leans down to bury his face in your neck, whimpering pleas and begging into your ear as his hands roam up and down your body.

“No Choso, we can’t, not here and not now.” You sigh as your hands reach up to grab at his tied-up hair, but make no move to push him away.

“Please, I’ll be good, I promise! I’ll keep it quiet, no one will know.”

—————

That’s how you got to where you are now. Your hands shakily raise from where they lie limp at your sides as you place your palms flat against him, feeling his hard chest beneath his clothes. The rhythm of his cock pumping into you has your head bobbing with each thrust. It only stops when he pushes you harder against the wall, the hand not pressed against your mouth coming up under your chin. Calloused but still smooth fingers lift your face, forcing you to look at him.

“Oh fuck, thank you, thank you, n-needed you.”

You try to mumble back some form of sentence but all that escapes your lips is a jumble of muffled cries against his hand.

“What was that baby?” Choso removes his hand from your mouth, gripping your head with both hands.

“Cho-Ahh!” A moan rips through you as he pushes you harder against the wall, hitting your cervix hard with each pump of his hips.

“What?,” Choso thrusts hard into you. “I couldn’t quite get that,” He thrusts again, “Baby?” He asks innocently as he fucks you harder and harder with each word. The metal ridges of the lockers behind you dig into your back awkwardly and his nails begin to dig deep into your cheeks as he squeezes them tight.

Drool begins to dribble down your chin, dripping onto his hands while he waits for your response.

“I- uhg Cho-oso, ‘y fuck me so good!” You finally moan out, reaching your arms around behind his head and linking your fingers behind his head, attempting to grasp some kind of leverage in the position he has you in.

Resting his forehead against yours, he whimpers into your mouth as he hungrily captures your lips with his. Your back aches from each hard thrust he fucks into you, thighs trembling while the pressure in your cunt grows with each passing second. Choso’s sweaty bangs brush against your closed eyes, a hand moving to your throat and squeezing tighter with every pump of his cock like he’s trying to steal the moans out of you.

“You’re perfect.” He grunts into your ear, pulling back from the kiss to look into your eyes. “Can you cum for me?” He quickens his pace, tilting at an angle that grinds his pelvis against your clit each time he moves. With a jumble of incoherent moans, your body begins to tense up in pleasure, wet slick dribbling down his thighs from where his body becomes one with yours.

Arching your back incredibly until your tits nearly press flush against his chest, you can feel the initial tingling ball of pleasure begin to unravel deep within you.

“That’s it baby, I can feel you getting tighter. Please cum for me, cum on my cock for me pleas-” He moans, cutting himself off as a particularly hard thrust has his sensitive tip brushing harder against your bruised cervix. His eyes lose focus on you for a moment, his hips stuttering, before leaning back to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

“C’mon baby. Do you want to cum for me?” He drags his tongue slowly from your collarbone up to your ear, leaving behind a wet trail of saliva, “Or, do you want to cum for them?”

Your eyes flash open in confusion, just as Choso lowers a hand down to flick his fingers over your clit. In a second, you see them. Down the hall, standing in the open doorframe; Geto and Gojo. Before you can react, the pressure within you bursts, heat spreading throughout your body as you cum on Choso’s cock. The two men at the end of the hallway stare back at you, before you finally close your eyes, unable to focus on anything but the full body takeover of your orgasm.

“Oh fuck, sh-shit, yea-ngh yes baby!” Choso’s whines flood your ears, your body spazzing and tightening around him. It feels like your limbs are on fire, numbing and tingling as your core flutters with pleasure. Toes curling in your shoes from the immense pleasure, your hands bury deep into his hair as if it's the only thing keeping you tied to this world. “Choso - ! F-fuck!” You moan out, still unable to form words as you quiver on his body.

“My god, fu-uck, gonna f-fucking fill you up. Gonna make you a mama, pl-please, need to get you stuffed with me.” Before long, you feel his grasp on you waiver as he shoots his load deep into your belly, still begging to get you round and full.

“Baby, o-oh, baby. Please take it, please please.” Choso’s become a drooling mess, slowly pumping his softening cock back into your cunt, fucking his cum back in before any can fall out. He slowly unwraps your leg from around him, lowering it until your feet are firmly on the ground. Arsm wrapping around your torso, he pulls you close to him, catching his breath.

The change in gravity has you feeling weak, well, that and the creampie he left in your womb. His shoulder feels damp against your forehead as you lean forward into his touch. Before you can open your eyes, Choso turns you around so your back leans against his chest. His large hands reach up to grope at your clothed tits before sliding down to wrap around your waist, his fingers massaging your belly.

“So, just gonna watch like the perverts you are?”

That has your eyes splitting opening in record time, remembering who you saw just moments ago, who watched Choso fuck you open and cum inside you.

“Oh my god, Chos-” You whimper out shyly before his large hand rises to cover your mouth. “Shhh, it’s ok baby, I wanna hear what they have to say.”

Gojo and Geto stand frozen in the same place as when you saw them last. You get a better look at them now that your vision isn’t misted over by lust and blurry from being fucked, ready to take in judgment from them.

Stern expressions on their faces, eyebrows furrowed, Gojo’s mouth hangs open in a small gasp while Geto’s lips are pushed together into a small line. But there’s something hidden in their expressions, they don’t necessarily look disgusted. Still, the embarrassment and shame of being caught nags at your mind again, preventing you from questioning the looks on the two sorcerers’ faces.

Anxiety crawls up your body as you squirm under the intense gaze of Gojo and Geto which only causes Choso’s cum to leak from your cunt and drip down your thighs. Your boyfriend’s hands squeeze tighter into your body as he stares back at them, waiting for an answer.

“Hey who are you to-” Geto starts but is cut off by the white-haired man beside him.

“Yeah, yeah we are just gonna watch.” Gojo answers, voice low and leveled in a tone you’d never heard him use before. You expect Choso to lash out and yell at him, or even Geto to protest, but they don’t. A pregnant pause takes over the room again, silence so loud you can hear a ringing in your ears.

“But you’re ok with that, aren’t you Choso?”, he continues, “Hmmm? Don’t be shy now, you seemed pretty outgoing when you fucked her full a few minutes ago. ‘Oh please baby please let me fuck you full with my cum’.” Gojo moans out in a mocking voice. It’s meant to be a taunt, but hearing him whine like that has… elicited a reaction out of you that you hadn’t expected. Ever loyal and in love with Choso, you can’t deny that hearing those words come from Gojo’s mouth was hot.

“Poor thing couldn’t even get a word out.” Geto cuts in with a smirk.

It’s only then do you notice the large tent in Gojo’s pants and the way Geto’s hand stays glued inside his pocket. They’re turned on by this. And judging by the way Choso isn’t screaming at them, he is too.

“So, what’re you gonna do now that you’ve got everyone all hot and horny, huh? I’m bricked up, Geto’s bricked up, lil missy here clearly has some kinda mess going on between her legs other than your jizz, - judging by the way she’s rubbing her thighs together, and you’re blushing like a teenage boy seeing his crush.”

The tension in the room remains, but you can feel the sudden shift in the air. Choso’s not a very outgoing person but if he was truly upset by being caught, he absolutely would’ve said something by now. Turning in his arms to face him, the skin beneath his shirt feels hot to touch, matching the crimson blush on his face.

“Choso…” You whisper, forcing his chin to face you as he turns to look at the ground, “Are you ok with what’s happening right now? What are you thinking, hun?” The blush across his cheeks deepens as he holds you tight to him, murmuring something under his breath that is too quiet to hear.

“What was that?” You probe genuinely, voice just above a hum as you wait for his answer.

“I’m not… disappointed that we got caught.” He sighs. “I’m so sorry baby, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I love you so much, you’re mine, only mine. But for some reason, I’m not -” He’s panting with anxiety between his words, trembling in shame.

“Choso, love, are you turned on by this?”

He nods.

“It’s ok, I am too.”

His head perks up at your words, a newfound sparkle in his eyes. “Really?”

Now its your turn to nod your head yes. Something about his demeanor changes. He stands taller, straightens his back, tightens his hands into fists. “Baby, can I ask something of you? You don’t have to say yes and I understand if you think I’m weird, but I have to ask.”

Grasping his hand in yours, you smile up at him expectantly, hoping you know what he’s going to say. He looks at the floor sheepishly, clearing his throat before making eye contact with you again.

“I think I wanna watch them fuck you.”

You close your eyes in relief knowing that the feeling is mutual, that you’re not the only perverted one in your relationship. Squeezing his hand, a voice interrupts you before you can even respond.

“Huh? What was that? Didn’t quite hear that from back here, mind repeating that for us?” Gojo calls out, sneering in your direction as he leans an elbow on Geto’s shoulder.

Choso’s eyes flickering to yours, all it takes is a small nod of confirmation and he’s regained the confidence you’re used to seeing your boyfriend have around you.

“I said, I want to watch my girl get fucked on you and Geto’s cocks. Think you can handle her?” He replies back, slowly turning you around to face them once again, hands beginning to roam across your body. His hands glide up from your waist, circling above your womb for a moment before they split, one sliding up to grope your chest through your shirt, the other dipping down under your skirt as he uses two fingers to push the cum dripping out of you back in.

It’s obvious the two sorcerers are caught off guard by Choso’s blunt words, both blinking blankly at you and your boyfriend before sharing a look between them.

“Well Choso, I think it's your lucky day. You’re wish is our desire.” Gojo bends in a slight bow, offering a growing toothy grin with a slight glint of mischief in his eyes.

“And her pleasure.”, Geto lulls, taking a step forward, “I just hope you two can handle us.”

Choso gives you another look, searching deep into your eyes, looking for something, any reaction. His eyebrows are tightly knit together in a protective expression but the softness in which he holds you tells you he’s asking if you consent to this. You stare back lovingly, smiling, and bring him in for a quick kiss, feeling his raw and warm lips mash against yours. Pulling away slowly, a trail of spit keeps you two connected.

“I have some rules.” He calls out, voice low and husky as he holds you close to him, “One, whoever fucks her pussy has to wear a condom. You can cum inside her if you’re wearing it, but remember that it’s my cum that you’re fucking into her. Two, whatever comes out of her mouth, you worship it. She says stop, you’re both out of her before I can count to three. She says slow down, you slow down even if you’re seconds away from cuming. And three, don’t hit her. She doesn’t like it.”

“Got it.” Geto agrees.

You give Choso one last squeeze before turning to face the two men approaching you, eyeing them up cautiously. They stop in front of you, standing tall above as Gojo begins to circle you like a wolf stalking its prey. He takes a step towards you, angling his head down to meet your eye level. “Cute,” he draws out, voice cocky as ever as he invades your space, “who would have thought you were so scandalous, fucking in the back hallways of our old high school.”. He reaches out to grab your face, large hand gently holding your chin as he examines you through his blindfold.

“Tsk, she was always hiding something behind that sweet smile, weren't you?” Geto purrs from his spot beside you as he watches his friend. “Just needed someone to treat you to it,” his eyes flicker briefly to Choso before latching back onto your expression, hand reaching into the brim of his pants as he begins to palm himself through his boxers.

You’re body trembles, feeling hot under their stares. It feels like they’re speaking to each other more than you, almost like planning something without you even knowing it. Flashing your eyes up to Choso, he leans on the wall opposite of you, back to the lockers as he bores an unreadable expression on his face. Eyebrows furrowed yet no trace of anger with rosy cheeks as he watches Gojo and Geto get closer to you. You flash him a tiny smile before turning your attention back to the two men in front of you, confidence beginning to flow within you as you watch Choso smile back.

“Maybe.” You reply to Geto cheekily, trying to sound as assertive as possible as Gojo holds your face in his large hands. “What about it?”

“Obviously we have to show our thanks to the man of the hour.” Gojo huffs.

“What do you-” Your words are cut off as he leans forward, pushing his lips against yours passionately. It’s not a gentle kiss, it’s wet and heavy as he tries to devour you, tongue licking against your lips until he parts them and begins to explore the inside of your mouth. His hands lift from your face and begin to grab at your body, wrapping around your shoulders, sliding down your back, before returning to your front. His fingers fondle at your chest before teasing at the buttons lining the front of your shirt.

A shriek leaves your lips in shock as he rips down the middle of your clothes, leaving you standing in your bra as your torn shirt hangs on either side of your arms. “Gojo!” You whine out in a mix of anger and embarrassment, trying to cover yourself up, “What if we get caught!”

“Well, you already got caught, and look how that turned out, hmm? Want more people to come? Want Nanami to come and see Choso’s little whore?”

A low cough-turned growl interrupts the moment, Choso glaring at Gojo’s words as he crosses his arms across his chest, eyes filled with anger at his implications.

“Don’t worry, already put up a veil, no one can see us. Just teasing.” Gojo speaks out without breaking his gaze upon you.

“Satoru, you’re too disruptive.” Geto coos, breaking the tension as he walks behind and pulls you close to his chest so you can feel his hard package press against your ass. “Ripping a perfectly fine shirt? You know not everyone is as rich as you.” He lulls as you feel his hands grab at your hips. Gojo pouts at him as he remains bent down to your eye level, muttering some incoherent words under his breath.

“Besides,” Geto speaks again, “You didn’t even finish the job.” He slides his hands up your back and quickly pulls at the clasps of your bra, letting it slink down your shoulders before falling to the ground. He gasps into your ear from behind you, large hands sliding down to capture your now free tits. You lean into him, a sigh escaping your lips as he kneads at you, the warmth from his hands contrasting the cool air of the hallway that hardened your nipples.

“Fuck, baby.” Gojo purrs, leaning his head forward to motorboat your chest. The sharp breath of his nose pushes warm air onto your sternum as Geto pushes your tits forward to smush against Gojo’s cheeks. You remain stuck between the two of them, nothing but mutual panting in the hallway as you lean your head back against Geto’s shoulder. Wetness begins to spread across your chest (amongst other places) as Gojo starts licking and sucking at your skin, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to have your legs shaking at the numbing pain blossoming across your chest between his lips.

“Gojo,” you gasp, hands leaving your side to steady yourself on his shoulders, “please.”

“So polite, but I don’t know what you could possibly want me to do. You’ll have to tell me.” he replies with a smirk after licking a long strip up to your chin.

“Please touch me.”

“Mmm touch you where? Gonna have to be a bit more specific than that.”

“Please,” you whine out, rubbing your thighs together impatiently. You stick your lip out in a pout, voice coming out much more quiet than moments ago. “Please touch my pussy, need it.”

“Cmon Satoru, you heard her. Don’t pretend like you’re not desperate to shove your face in her cunt.” Geto groans out, hand reaching out past your head to grab Gojo by his hair and shove him down to the ground. “Stop teasing and dig in.” He thrusts his hips against your ass, pushing your pussy into the white-haired man’s face. His nose bumps your skirt-covered mound and he lets out a muffled moan as his hands wrap through your thighs, hand searching around your waist so he can keep you close in a mangled mess of limbs.

“Fuck, need a taste.” He draws out, hands tightening around your waist as he tucks his head under your skirt. He leaves a cool trail of spit up your cunt as he licks at your lips, licking up until he reaches your clit. “Need this off now.” He mutters as he quickly unzips your skirt and lets it drop to the ground, abandoned with the rest of your clothes.

“Come on, don’t be shy now. You were just putting on such a good show for us with Choso, do it again, won’t you?” Geto purrs into your ear. Your body slowly becomes putty in their hands as he wraps his arms under yours, tucking them up around your chest. His warm hands trail across your upper body, leaving goose bumps behind as his fingers caress your skin. “Look at how pretty your pussy looks when it's soaking his blindfold, princess.” Geto whispers in your ear, one hand reaching up to grab your chin and tilt it downwards, forcing you to look down.

Gojo buries his face back into your cunt at his words, lapping up and kissing your clit, sending tingles across your core as you buck your hips forward. One of his large and warm hands trails down from where it rests at your hip, dividing through the wet mess between your legs.

“Mmph, can’t have you leaking out Choso’s cum, now can we?” He grumbles between licks, “no, good girlfriends keep their boyfriend’s cum fucked up inside them even when they’re being fucked out by their friends.” He speaks, though mostly to himself as his words are muffled by your pussy. “Isn’t that right Choso? I know you don’t have a naughty girlfriend.”

“Fuck, Gojo!” you cry out as you buck your hips forward into his face again, letting Geto take the full weight of your body behind you. “Geto, please, touch me too!”

Geto hums behind you and lets his hands move forward to grope your chest. Your tits mold into his grip as he assaults your skin, tugging and pulling on the skin until it nearly hurts. “Choso, you know I’ve heard making a girl cum increases her chances of getting pregnant.” His left hand reaches out and tugs at your nipple, squeezing it, before continuing. “Want us to see how much we can make her cum?” Another twist. “For you?”

As if speaking a secret language, at his words Gojo begins to fuck his fingers into your cunt, pushing Choso’s cum back inside you. “Take it back, keep it stuffed inside you, huh cum dump?” You hear amongst the jumbling of words he speaks into your pussy, like he’s having a conversation with it over you.

The increasing pressure of Gojo lapping at your cunt mixed with Geto playing with your chest pushes you closer and closer to the edge. “F-fuck, so good!” You open your eyes and look up to your boyfriend standing across from you. The hem of his shirt is tucked between his lips, his abs tensing and pulsing as he pumps his hand slowly over the tip of his cock. His eyebrows point upwards and he pants wantonly, almost like it causes him pain to keep his eyes open and focus on the sight before him. Despite this, his eyes latch onto yours in an instant.

“Choso, l-love you!” you cry out, grinding your pelvis harder into Gojo’s face. Tingles shake at your thighs while a numbing pressure builds in your stomach. Gojo’s thick fingers pump into your cunt, and you can feel Choso’s cum on his fingers as they push up into you, exploring all there is to explore; pushing up against your cervix walls, pushing into that soft fleshy spot you thought only Choso could find. His thumb reaches around to rub at your clit as he sucks it too, creating a suction that flips between kissing the bundle of nerves and grinding it hard against his thumb. It’s almost too much for you to handle.

And then it is, as his remaining hand on your hip slides south, grabbing at your ass and spreading it for himself. He gropes at your fat, a tingling sting left behind as he slaps your ass and you yelp, lurching forward in shock.

“Damn Satoru,” Geto purrs, “you have got to see this recoil.”

Without responding, Gojo slides the hand further down until it reaches your tight, untouched hole. He pulls back from your pussy for just a moment, chin drenched in your slick, and asks “Anyone ever visit this hole before?”, tapping his finger lightly on your ass. At his words, Geto slows his gropes, licking up your neck before waiting for your answer.

The pause in movement makes everything around you slow down, you can feel the cool wind of the hallway breeze against your skin, can feel where they touch you besides your tits and pussy, can feel them waiting for your answer. It’s embarrassing.

“We, I -”

“I’m finger fucking your boyfriend’s cum back into you while my best friend gropes your tits in our old high school hallway, but you’re afraid to admit if you’ve done anal?”

“Fuck you.” You mutter, not intimidating at all.

“I’m trying to. Now tell me,” he puts his finger on your hole, “have you”, he rubs against the entrance, “ever done,” he presses further, pushing past the tension of your tight skin until it slips in with ease. “Ha, naughty girl, that went in far too easy for an ass virgin.” He grins.

The heavy pressure as he pushes into your ass has you tightening your whole body, grabbing at Geto’s arm around your chest and digging your nails into his skin, feeling the tension of his skin beneath your nails.

“Ah, yea, yes I have, we have!” you pant.

“Freaky.” he smirks, removing the hand from your clit and grabbing one of your legs, lifting it over his shoulder for leverage as he kneels before you. “Now shut up again and let me eat.”

And suddenly everything sparks back up at rapid speeds. Gojo’s attached to your clit once again, hands ravaging your holes as he finger fucks them both at the same time. He slips another finger into each of your holes and it's a miracle you’re still standing as he wrecks you. Your lower body is almost entirely supported by his arms as you shake from pleasure while he kneels before you. His large arms wrap around your hips, twisting and contorting into whatever position allows one hand to enter your ass and one hand to enter your pussy. All the while, his face is still buried at your clit. Every lick, every finger forward motion has you bucking harder, grinding your pelvis against his nose, moving entirely on its own; a purely erotic reaction.

His licks have your back arching in both directions, heaving back and forth as Geto holds you tight against his skin. Your back rubs against his shirt, feeling the buttons press into your skin. He moans into your ear, panting hard enough to feel his warm breath on your neck. Your nipples are sore from his teasing, and as if he knows when it's too much he switches from pinching to lightly groping your tits, one in each hand. “Gonna cum? Gonna soak Satoru’s blindfold?”

You’re unable to form words, only small whines escaping your lips as you nod your head back against his shoulder. Your hips buck forward widely as your balance sways, your right hand moving back to burrow through Geto’s hair in a fist as the left reaches down to tug at the white-haired man between your legs.

With just Gojo’s fingers alone, you already feel full as they rapidly bring you closer to your end. It’s when Geto slides a hand down across your front, dipping below your hips to land on your clit, right beside Gojo’s tongue, that you finally feel yourself beginning to snap.

“That’s it, good girl. Cum for us.” Geto coos in your ear, fingers playing tag with Gojo’s tongue as they circle around your clit, your body twisting in his arms, tightening around Gojo’s fingers. The pleasure keeps building, impossibly, and it feels different than you’ve ever felt before. “Fuck, I-” you gasp, tits puffing out as you arch your back, “It feels like, mmph my god, something’s happening!”.

One last glance over at your boyfriend, seeing his flushed face and sweaty body, and your orgasm rips through you, tightening around Gojo’s fingers as you feel a gush from below, squirting on his face. Tingles spread throughout your body, you twitch in the arms of the strong men holding you as you experience one of the most intense orgasms of your life. You’d have certainly collapsed to the floor if they weren’t holding up your body.

It feels like ages have gone by as you lie limply across their bodies, your breath heavy as your soul returns to your body. Small kisses to your neck bring you back to reality. “Such a good girl.” Geto whispers into your skin, “Look at the mess you made hmmm?” Gojo slowly lowers your legs to stand up and it's then that you see how his blindfold is a shade darker, dripping and drenched with your cum. He leans in, capturing your lips with his gently. When he pulls back, he slides the blindfold down, revealing his diamond-blue eyes as he maintains eye contact and sucks the blindfold into his mouth. “Mmm, you taste so good.” He hums.

His eyes flicker past yours briefly, a smirk on his face as he leans forward. “Jealous, Suguru? Want a taste?” He fully unties the blindfold, still holding it flush against his mouth as he leans his chin over your shoulder. There’s movement behind you, and as you turn your body slightly to watch Geto’s reaction, you catch him swear under his breath before leaning grabbing Gojo by his hair, slamming his lips against his, through the blindfold.

You take a small step back to watch as the two devour each other, only separated by Gojo’s cum drenched blindfold. The white-haired sorcerer’s hands begin to roam the other’s body as the blindfold is held up solely by their lips. He tugs at Geto’s hips, pulling their clothed erections together as they begin to grind against each other, hands wandering further as he gropes his ass.

The moment is cut shorter than you would’ve liked as you watch idly, slowly feeling yourself become aroused once again. The two men pull apart with a gasp, eyes wide and crazed as the blindfold falls to the ground between them. A quiet, breathy moan erupts from Gojo’s chest as he stares at his friend. “Pretty fucking tasty, huh?”

Geto stares back at him, chest heaving until his eyes drift to your naked form. “Come here, it’s my turn.” He growls, unbuttoning the front of his shirt before pulling you flush against him. You wrap your arms around his neck, the heat of his strong pecks warming your hardened nipples as he grazes his lips across yours. Moaning into his mouth, hands begin to roam across your body, although whose, you cannot tell.

“Ready princess?” Geto asks as he pulls out his wallet from his pants, flips it open, and takes out a condom. He maintains eye contact with you as he rips the top of it open with his teeth and undoes the top of his pants, only looking away to slide the condom over his dick, pumping it slowly between his hands in the process. His cock is beautiful, - everything about the man is. It twitches between you, your eyes following thick veins to the pink, weeping tip that sticks out from his hands.

“Gonna plug you up real nice.” He leans forward, tapping the tip against your belly, “Make sure all his cum stays right here” And then he’s sliding his cock between your legs, getting it wet on your juices as he pulls your hips closer to him, easing a leg up to sit on his waist. “Want you straddling me just like you were Choso.” He links your other leg up and around until both legs wrap around his body, arms coming to link together behind his head as he holds you up.

“No offense, but I don’t think I need to ease it in”. He points his dick at your hole. “No, I think you’ll take it in like the thirsty whore you are.”

With that, he drops you down onto his length and he’s right, your pussy takes in all of him easily. That doesn’t mean the heavy feeling of being filled isn’t a shock; with your cunt sitting on his pelvis, his tip probes at a tender spot inside that has you seeing stars.

“Mmm,” He moans as he pulls you closer, smushing his face against yours, “f-fuck. Still so tight.” He tilts his head and kisses you desperately, gasping and moaning into your mouth as he begins to buck his hips until he’s fucking you at a fast pace.

With every thrust, your body lurches up in pleasure, your mind blank aside from the way your sensitive cunt continues to drip for more. Somewhere behind you, there’s the sound of a zipper being undone and a cocky, wanton voice speaking, not that you’re able to process it in your current state.

“Damn,” the voice draws out, low and raspy. “How she feel, Suguru? She taking good care of your cock?” Geto’s hips stutter, losing their pacing at his friend’s words, letting the conversation flow through with you as nothing more than a fuck toy between them. From behind you can hear the sounds of faintly wet slapping. “Losing it already? C’mon Suguru, I know you can do better than that.”

“St-stop talking.” Geto manages to reply between thrusts. Warm arms suddenly wrap around your front from behind, pulling your upper half away from Geto slightly. A musky, slightly sweet scent surrounds you, and Gojo’s voice calls out from beside your head, “I can’t help it. Look so fucking hot, wanna - fuck.”

Gojo pulls you closer to him, your back pressing against his chest as his hands begin to roam across your body like he’s trying to touch as much of you as he can. He takes a deep breath in as he buries his head into the crest of your neck, taking in your scent. Then, within seconds, he wraps his arms around your chest, holding underneath your shoulders as he allows you to rest against him. You melt between them, upper half held up by Gojo’s arms while Geto keeps your hips held flush against his waist.

“Mmm, Geto-” You cry out as he slows his thrusts, slowing to a deep grind.

“I’m not stopping for you, Satoru.” He murmurs, eyes glued to where your sopping cunt swallows him, “Better get in quick.”. His massive hands grab at your ass, pulling your cheeks apart for the man behind you.

With every small grind of his hips, your clit hitches on his pelvis, the sensitive pleasure lurching your back and forth, urging his hands closer into you until one of his fingers lands on your back hole. Movement slows even more, and Geto lifts his head to look over your shoulder at Gojo. The hallway is silent once again, save for heavy breathing. Geto holds an intensity in his eyes, a complicated, taunting expression beneath. Given the breather, a slight shuffle to the side draws your attention back to your beautiful boyfriend.

Choso’s leaning back against a wall of lockers, crimson blush creeping across his face and down onto his heaving chest. His leaking cock is just as sensitive, bleeding with precum as it cries in his hands. The tip twitches as he makes eye contact with you, his eyebrows arching upwards in pleasure as he bites down on the bottom of his shirt in his mouth, whimpering into the cloth. Lowering your eyes from his face, you notice the way he grabs and squeezes at the bottom of his girth, slowing the pace at which he pumps his length; he’s edging himself.

“Choso baby, are you Ah-” Your words catch in your throat as what you can only assume to be Gojo’s dick begins pushing against your ass. “Fuck!” It’s so much thicker than the fingers he had in you before and although you haven’t seen it, you know it’s massive by the feel of it.

“Knock knock.” Gojo whispers in your ear, “hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He turns his head to look towards Choso in his disheveled state, making eye contact with him as he slowly eases himself further into you. “I’d like to come in now.” He speaks, and although he’s talking to you, the way he looks at your boyfriend gives you the impression he’s doing this just as much for him as well.

After a few more seconds of slow movement, he’s finally in your ass fully. The feeling is so intense, the tight skin stretching thin as you take him in, tearing your mind away from the fact that Geto still rests deep in your cunt. The deep pressure of Gojo’s cock feels heavy within you, but not unfamiliar. “Fuck, sweet girl.” He gasps in your ear. “Swallowing me whole back here.” His hands glide over your hips, colliding with Geto’s as he squeezes your soft flesh between his fingers.

“Ready for the main course?”

With an experimental buck of his hips, his cock pounds deeper within you and knocks you forward into Geto’s warm chest. Even with such a small movement, the wind is knocked out of you as your lower region is restricted and fuller than it’s ever felt before. By the way that Geto bows his head down beside yours, he’s affected too. “Fuck,” the brunette moans, “I can feel you inside her.”

“Yeah, Sugu?” Gojo pulls back slightly, “You like that feeling?”, and he thrusts forward again, a little harder this time, “Like feeling my cock rub you through her ass?”.

Geto lets out a breathy groan, flinging his head back to look at the ceiling. “H-ha, don’t act like you’re so put together.” He lowers his head back to level, making eye contact with you. “You doing ok princess?”. With all the attention back on you, the feeling of both their cocks in you finally settles in. With every breath, it feels like their cocks reach a new part of your insides. It’s hard to decipher where Geto’s cock in your pussy ends and where Gojo’s cock in your ass begins. It’s like they’ve turned you into one massive slut hole, -and they haven’t even started fucking you yet.

Geto’s question lingers in the air as you try to focus back on his face and not his fat dick. A red flush covers his swollen lips, and you don’t miss the crazed focus in his eyes that hide behind a few strands of hair that’ve fallen over his face. Raising one hand up to his face, you cup his cheek while the other reaches behind you, blindly grabbing until you feel the top of Gojo’s soft hair enter your palm. Geto’s skin is warm and sweaty under your touch, and you slide your hand down until you reach his parted and panting mouth.

With little to no resistance, you push your thumb past his lips, feeling the tips of his teeth graze your finger as it rests against his warm, wet tongue. For just a split second, that crazed expression is replaced with a hazy, complacent look of shock, his eyes flickering past you to Gojo. The thick pants of both men fill your ears as blood pumps quickly throughout you, and for a second you’re convinced that your cunt is throbbing around them to the beat of your heart.

“Fuck me, please.”

Both sorcerers seem to take that as consent to start, and it takes no time for you to become a sloppy mess around them. Both cocks drag in and out of you, fucking messily until they settle on a rhythm; Gojo pulls back as Geto pushes in, and so on. It’s like being fucked twice, at the same time, which technically is what’s happening, but it feels impossible to wrap your head around. At no point do you feel less than full, your g-spot feeling constant pressure and with every thrust from behind, Geto’s pelvis is pushed up against your clit. Your head bobs loosely around your shoulders, struggling to stay up as they manhandle and bounce you on them. Somewhere in the mix you manage to settle your head back against Gojo’s shoulder.

Geto’s hands remain glued to your hips as he holds you up, fingers digging deep into your flesh as the skin around them reddens. Gojo takes this as an opportunity to roam, dragging his hands up your stomach until they circle around your tits. He squeezes them forward, inviting Geto who happily leans forward to wrap his lips around your nipple.

“Mmmm, you like that pretty girl? So fucking pretty, taking us like this.” Gojo growls against your cheek as he looks down, watching his friend suck on your body. “Fuck, Suguru. I can see you inside her.” He moans out from over your shoulder, losing his pace for a moment as he curses and groans, the words “six eyes” lost somewhere in the mix. “Can see you fucking Choso’s jizz right up into her”.

His hips stutter behind you from their usual pounding pace, his breath hot against your cheek as his head hangs low beside yours. Low moans escape him, and you feel him leaving a wet trail of saliva across your jaw. In front of you, Geto leaves your breasts and leans forward to press his forehead against yours. “Yeah?” He captures your lips in his, quickly licking alongside your tongue before pulling back, “What about this?”

He grabs one of Gojo’s hands in his, sliding it down until it reaches your waist. Placing his hand over his friend’s, he pushes it down against your warm skin on a spot that has you gasping loudly at a new sensation. The tip of Geto’s cock strikes hard against the inside of your cunt as he tilts his hips up, bulging through your belly as it hits the tips of Gojo’s fingers that rest on your lower stomach.

“Oh my god” you moan out as all three of you watch the scene unfold, as if Gojo’s jerking off Geto through your body. It makes you want to scream in pleasure, but no sounds can escape you aside from empty cries, tears forming around your eyes as you let them fuck you into oblivion. As Geto slides his hand back to your hip, Gojo repositions his so he can rub your clit and still press down on that special spot.

“My god, pretty thing. Re-, fuck, ready for the finale?” Gojo picks up his pace, once again matching Geto’s, “Don’t forget about your boyfriend, hmmm? Wanna have him help out?” He whispers, voice taunting and whiny before he calls out his name, startling Choso from his moment of bliss. Between all the pleasure and movement, you’re barely able to register how lusted over he looks as he holds his hard member in his hand with what looks like a load of cum already sprayed across his abdomen.

“C’mon, look at your darling girl all fucked out for you. Come help us finish her.” He beckons, making a point to draw out his thrusts, showing off your body and how it reacts to them. In the slow movement, both Geto and Gojo take the opportunity to lean forward and begin tearing apart your body with their mouths, biting down across your shoulders and chest. Arching your head back, you maintain eye contact with Choso as you lean into the bites and thrusts of the two men holding you.

“Baby.”

His eyes light up at your calling.

“Baby please, need you.” You whine out.

As your boyfriend slowly approaches, you reach out a hand until he’s close enough to rest his cheek in your palm, closing his eyes briefly as he moans at your touch. It would’ve been a sweet moment if it weren’t for the other two men ravaging you with their mouths and cocks.

“Hi.” He smiles.

“Oh come on Choso, now’s not the time to be shy.” Gojo removes a hand from your chest, reaching out and yanking your boyfriend closer. He stumbles in you, sensitive cock brushing up between you and Geto’s waists.

“That’s it big guy, join in on the fun. Wouldn’t be here without you.” The man behind you speaks again before whispering in your ear, “Let’s help him out, yeah?”. He grabs your hand, snaking down until wrapping it around Choso’s length. He keeps his hand wrapped around yours as he squeezes your hand around him, slowly beginning to pump up and down.

The scene playing out around you is what finally makes you snap. As each of you falls into a perfect rhythm, the slowly growing coil of pleasure begins to bubble up inside you. Between the deep thrusts of Geto and Gojo inside you and Choso’s growing whimpers, your muscles begin to clench. Trembling in the arms of your fellow sorcerers, vision blurring through tears, you can barely register anything besides your own pleasure.

Like the way moans ring in your ears as someone mumbles incoherently out loud, or the way Geto is looking deep not into your eyes but Gojo’s beside you, flickering between your messy cunt and the piercing blue eyes of his friend. Or the way Choso lays a hand on the dark-haired sorcerer’s waist, groping for something to hold onto as he watches the way his cock looks sandwiched between you and Gojo’s hands.

“Taking us so f-fucking well, princess” Geto groaned, although his eyes remained on Gojo’s as he leaned forward and nipped at your chest, a small peck, before dragging his tongue slowly up to your neck. “Such a good fucking girl, you like being bred? Like having me fuck Choso’s cum into you?”. His hips slam against yours with every word, squeezing the words out of your throat “yesyespleaseyesyesyes-”

Gojo slides a hand down to your hips, rubbing at the skin over your womb. “Want that Choso? Wanna your little slut to walk around pregnant knowing we fucked your baby into her?” He leans forward, lips tantalizingly close to where Geto sucks at your neck. His voice deepens with his next words, and you get the feeling they’re meant more for Geto than you. “Feel so fucking good against me, want ‘t cum with you. Fuck fuck, fuck, wantyousobadwant-” His voice is cut off suddenly at the same time Geto’s lips leave your neck, and you can hear the sloppy spit of their kiss beside your cheek.

Choso’s warm hand pulls your cheek towards him amidst the chaos, smashing his lips against yours. “Almost there baby, please, cum with me, please.” Gojo’s hand re-tightens in yours around Choso’s cock from where it’d loosened when he began kissing Geto. The mass sounds of moans and whimpers seem to be escalating, everyone is nearing their end.

Choso is the first to cum, shaking in your hand as his jizz shoots up across the three of you. Seeing his remaining warm seed leak down from his tip to you and Gojo’s hands is what does it for you. That, alongside the two other cocks pounding your insides and Choso’s free hand reaching between to rub your clit.

“Mmmm, ‘my god, ‘m gonna!” Your words are cut off as your boyfriend recaptures your lips, whining alongside you as you finally cum. The pleasure is uncontrollable and unmeasurable. It almost hurts, intense spasms coming in waves and shooting up from all parts of your nether regions. Opening your eyes, you’re met with Geto’s upturned eyebrows and open mouth panting in desperation and Choso’s flushed face as he comes to his senses. You can’t see Gojo, but from the side, you can feel the sweat coming off him as he presses a cheek to your face. It’s too much of a sight to handle, and you slam your eyes shut to ride out your high. Your legs tighten around Geto, heart rate pulsing around your clit as your whole body tenses.

“Holy fuck, squeezing me so hard princess, don’t think, god, don’t think I can hold off any longer.” The wetness of his sweaty loose bangs rests against your shoulder. In seconds, a whiny moan erupts from behind you, warmth spreading throughout your behind. As both you and Gojo shake in unison, Geto thrusts up into you one last time before following suit.

Silence, aside from heavy panting, finally rings throughout the hallway as the four of you catch your breath. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you barely register Geto unwrapping your legs from his waist, only realizing as he painfully slides out of you. A small moan escapes your lips before you can stop it as Gojo joins him, leaving you feeling empty and worn out. A soreness spreads throughout your body as you attempt to stand, stiff legs and bruised hips causing you to nearly fall if Gojo had not caught you in time.

“Don’t worry sweet thing, I got you.” He steadies you, assisting in holding you up as you catch your breath. “Feeling ok?” You nod your head, still hazy and in disbelief at what just happened. “Good, you took us like a lil champ there.” He smirks, giving your ass a brief squeeze despite your boyfriend’s jealous glare. Taking the hint, the sorcerer passes your limp body back to him, not letting go until Choso’s strong arm steadies you by the hip. “Don’t worry, she’s all yours.”

After settling their clothes, the men slowly gather your clothes and help dress you. Once back in appropriate attire (aside from a layer of Choso’s shirt used to hide your torn shirt), Geto tucks a few strands of unkempt hair back down on your head. “There. Looking almost like you didn’t get ravaged in the hallway.” He looks to Choso, “I trust you’ll take extra good care of her?”.

“Always.” He replies, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him.

“Good.” Geto winks down at you. “Now, Satoru, I believe it's our time to head out.”

The six-eyes user bends down, pocketing the damp blindfold off the ground into his pocket casually as he gives both you and Choso one last look over. “Yup, it’s been more than a pleasure.” He snickers, receiving three annoyed grunts in return. “Anyways, you know how to reach us if you ever need more… special grade assistance.” He winks, turns on his heel, and waves goodbye.

—————

The two men walk together down the hallway, and you don’t miss their newfound proximity as they walk, whispering in each other’s ears as they go. Choso keeps you close in his arms, watching as they walk away.

“So I guess he turns infinity off for sex?”

[in-my-loki-feels]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you @loki-is-my-kink-awakening and @kcscribbler for the tags!

Trying to get this one across the finish line either this week or next. This is the bingo fill set in early S1 that involves both a library date and Loki teaching Mobius to use a dagger.

Mobius was still wrapping his head around the fact that the god he’d studied for so long was sitting across from him. No matter how much footage of the Sacred Timeline he’d watched, not to mention all the variants he’d studied, it couldn’t live up to the intensity of Loki in person. Mobius had been so excited to finally put his plan into action that he’d sort of forgotten how much of a handful Lokis could be.  Not to mention handsome. Loki variants came in all shapes and sizes; it was just Mobius’ luck that he got one who appealed to his tastes. Tastes he hadn’t even realized he had. Sure, there had been times he appreciated a Loki’s looks aesthetically in the course of his research, but that was no different than recognizing the beauty of a '94 Kawasaki Super sport XiR.  Or so he’d thought until Loki had strolled out of his room in that form-fitting TVA uniform. The variant jacket had only marginally reduced the outfit's effect.  Lucky for him, no one had seemed to pick up on Mobius’ thoughts, least of all Loki. If he had, there was no doubt in Mobius’ mind that Loki would’ve switched from his usual benign charm to an attempt at actual seduction. Wooing the person in power to eventually seize control came in all forms when a Loki was involved.  No, all this Loki seemed capable of doing was working Mobius’ last good nerve and then making him feel guilty when he snapped. First, he’d antagonized Loki over the death of his mother, now he’d called him an ice runt. Not his best work, Mobius had to admit.

Tagging a few people I don't think have already been tagged but as always there's no pressure. <3 @doomed-spectacles @ceeceetv @devilbearingtrouble @faux-fm @wolfpup026 (though you just posted a finished piece! 😆)

[ace-disgrace-on-the-case]

Restore

I come bearing a wonderful gift, written by my wonderful friend @red-sprite!

The morning was early, the sky was grey, and the store was closed. Samantha was waiting by her car for the owner of the electronics store to open the front door, but her watch told her it was currently half an hour past opening and there was no-one in sight yet.

Looking in through the window the place reminded her of an old bookstore. You know the kind, the ones that seem to open whenever the owner feels like it, completely covered from floor to ceiling in books you can barely read the cover of. Antiquarians. She could see the remnants of a shelving system buried under strata of components, stretching around the corner into the darkness beyond.

Still, it was her best bet to find what she needed.

Ten minutes later the door opened, she hadn’t seen the owner arrive. Fifteen minutes and some smalltalk interwoven with project descriptions, she was about to walk out with her purchase. And that’s when she saw something she never thought she would.

An original AnTech, buried under a pile of merchandise. Her dome was stained, her screen was completely scuffed up, and the faded post-it said ‘As-is. No returns’.

Five minutes later she was secure in Samantha’s car.

The rest of the day was a blur. She finished the project, got it tested, got it packaged and shipped out. When she clocked out she’d almost forgotten this morning’s surprise. But not enough to lack a spring in her step when she made it to her car.

There, in the passenger seat, sat her find. In the light of the parking garage she looked like she was about to come alive. Samantha’s shadow danced over her scuffed faceplate as she passed the car, her arms resting in her lap.

‘You need a name, don’t you,’ Samantha thought to herself. ‘Ann sounds nice.’

The drive home was short. The trip up the stairs was very very long. As it turns out, hauling an immobile full-sized humanoid robot up three flights of stairs was a lot of work. She set Ann gently down in her comfy chair and went to work clearing her workbench. Projects half in-progress were bagged up, labelled and put away, tools were cleared, and finally she had enough space.

One last time she lifted Ann up, from her chair, to lay her as gently as she could on the workbench. Under the harsh fluorescent light it was finally visible just in what sort of condition she was. Samantha went over her section by section, noting all the outward damage. Scuffed faceplate, she knew that one. Seized motor on her left elbow, to be expected. Dent in the abdominal covering, possible impact, have to check the underlying actuators. Scuffs on legs, rattling in left ankle joint. Also very very dusty.

Knocking off the initial dust was the easy part. Finding the proprietary bits for her screwdrivers was slightly harder, but thankfully she had an extensive collection. The first thing she took off was the face plate. Four screws held it in place, now neatly extracted and marked where they go. The plate came off, connected only by a short ribbon cable. It took her a moment to find a good angle to disconnect it, but after that she was able to place the assembly to the side. Under the faceplate there was the sensor suite; cameras, both visible light and IR, depth-sensors, audio receptors tucked into the sides of the cavity, and at the bottom, the release for the chest covering.

Samantha pulled it gently, hoping that it wasn’t seized up. When she heard the click, she breathed a sigh of relief and held it in almost as quickly. She’d finally get a view of how Ann looked inside. Would all the components be present, would there be any damage, had she been scavenged for parts? It was all a big uncertainty, but there was only one way to find out.

She extracted her hand, and moved it over under Ann’s arms. Then she pulled.

The cavity opened before her, slowly bathed in the fluorescent light as deft hands maneuvered the cover away from its mounting points. There, inside, she saw a plethora of parts. All the ones she knew were supposed to be there were accounted for, and a few ones she didn’t expect caught her eye.

Breathe out.

Ann was complete, everything else was a matter of restoring. She could do this.

She lifted the cover the rest of the way off, and flipped it around. The dent was superficial, and it didn’t look like the force impacted beyond the insulation. She put the cover to the side.

Figuring out the order of cleaning was, on the one hand, a daunting process. On the other, cable layout dictated order nine out of ten times. Samantha had only worked on less sophisticated models in the past, but the principles were exactly the same. The power and data cables ran all over Ann’s chassis like a spider’s web. But like a spider, Samantha could read them. She knew them by sight, by location, by feeling. One by one they came undone until they revealed the city that lay underneath.

Heat exchangers rose like buildings on a city of green, highways of copper connected everything to everything else, crowded out by vast daughterboards rising perpendicular to the cavity.

Samantha set to work, disconnecting each component, slowly and lovingly taking Ann to pieces. Heat sink, to the side. Fans, to the side. Boards, to the side. Not all of them were standard, and Samantha could only guess to the function of some of them. Clearly Ann had not been a standard model.

She took a spray and diligently brushed each connector until it shone like it was fresh from the factory. Every single speck of dust removed, every pin straightened, every single capacitor checked.

She extracted the battery pack. Light, for what it was, but still one of the heavier components. Also probably completely dead.

Samantha lifted it out of the chassis, onto the small part of her workbench that was still free, and pulled out her tester to confirm. It wouldn’t even show a reading. She grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the part number. With any luck it’d be a standard type, and the extent of the anti-tampering would be the screws.

Half an hour of searching later, she found the battery was an available size and could be ordered without problem. Express shipping was worth it.

She turned her attention back to Ann.

The battery could be replaced last. It was not interfering with any of the other components. The working memory modules slid in easy save for the final lock. Those always took more pressure than she liked to put onto delicate components. It left a mark on her hand.

The permanent storage was next. A big heavy box screwed into place on shock mounts to prevent the fragile internals from suffering damage when the frame moved about.

The daughterboards, slotted into the exact slots they came out of – she checked. Thrice. Screwed into place on their retaining brackets.

The fans, cleaned and lubricated, reinstalled on the processors.

And finally, the web of cables. Data cables, power cables, crossed all along the cavity to reach from everywhere to everywhere. Each of them seated with care.

She brought her power supply over to the workbench and dialed it in exactly to the battery specifications. One clip to the positive, one clip to the negative. Tomorrow would be a big day.

*

AnTech-G-25036 woke up. It was midnight on January 1st 1970. She couldn’t see for the blinding light. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t feel her face, or her arms, or her legs. She tried to move. Nothing happened. There was something on her chest. Her chest was open. She tried to think back, there were no memories before now. She tried to–

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you.”

The voice was soft, soothing. Her ears were working. She stopped trying.

Tapping noises came from somewhere. They felt distant and close at the same time.

“There, will you try again?” Three taps sounded.

AnTech-G-25036 woke up. Her last memories were decades ago. There had been a battery failure. She had fallen down. Then there was nothing. Nothing for a long time until she woke up in the blinding light.

“Can you speak?”

She didn’t know. Could she? There were many things that she could before that she couldn’t now. Like move her arms. She tried.

“I… think so?”

There was a high-pitched sound that was hard to parse. Then more sounds, and finally more speech.

“I’m so sorry. Here.”

The light faded, and she felt her head be turned. A face came in view, her emotional recognition processes supplied [happy], [excited], [holding back]. Something supplied [pretty].

“Hi, my name is Samantha. You were damaged, and I’m restoring you.”

New contact registered: Samantha

Current list of contacts: Samantha

Time since factory reset: 30 years

Time since product end of life: 32 years

Accessing AnTech servers for revised EOL date: [server not found]

“Why?”

“Because a lot of love went into making you, and I don’t believe you deserve to be tossed aside.”

There was a process inside her that wasn’t standard from the factory. It was supplying data that she didn’t understand and reaching conclusions that she didn’t know what to do with.

“What should I do?”

User input overrode most any other process. Listening to Samantha would help.

“I will work on your hardware. Will you run AnDiagTxt for me and write the result to your secondary output?”

She did as she was told, running the program that could tell a technician every status of every component of every part of her. Something supplied [intimate] and [vulnerable].

She let the program run, aware of its process, and how it was probing every part of her. She could feel it try to reach her legs, which weren’t there. Tried to reach her arms, which weren’t there. Tried to reach her face, which wasn’t there. It found her voice, it found her camera. It found her processors and fans. It found cables. So many cables attached from her, diagnostic ports, secondary output, keyboard, there was… the correct voltage from her battery, but no battery in the housing. More cables, snaking out like an umbilical cord tethering her to the workbench.

She saw Samantha turn her face from the camera and towards something out of view. As the program ran, her eyes were focused on it. When it finished, her emotional recognition processes supplied [satisfied] [happy].

Samantha turned back towards the camera, and she could feel a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you back up and running in no time.”

No time turned out to be an overstatement on the speed, but the progress was consistent. The first thing she hooked back up was the actuator for the camera. AnTech-G-25036 could look around now and take in more of the workspace. There was a chair that housed several components, including two AnTech arms and two AnTech legs. There was a fluorescent light fixture directly overhead. If she turned the camera away, she would not be blinded. She could not move her head. Samantha said that happened later in the process.

“Do you have a name?”

The question surprised her. Names were for people, not for AnTech products.

“I am AnTech-G-25036”

She turned her camera towards Samantha. Her emotional recognition processes supplied [concentrated] and [comfortable].

Samantha had an arm on her lap. There was a spraycan on the desk, and a screwdriver in her hand. She was manipulating the elbow joint. Every cycle, it moved more until with a final [click] it completed its full range of motion. Samantha manually took it through its motions twice before inverting it to inspect the contacts.

“That is what AnTech called you. What would you like to be called?”

She didn’t know. She didn’t remember having wants before. She could feel her fans speed up as her processors tried to construct metrics by which to tackle this problem. Her processors stayed cool. The fans felt smooth in their housing.

She could ask Samantha. User input can often break process deadlocks.

“What do you think I should be called, Samantha?”

The processes slowed down and then stopped. The fans were quiet. AnTech-G-25036 was focused solely on input processing.

“I’ve been calling you Ann. Is that a name you’d like?”

She did not remember liking things before. She did not remember being allowed to like things before. How would she know what to like, how would she know the correct things to like?

Something supplied [yes].

The fans slowed down.

“Yes.”

Samantha finished with the contacts and walked up to the workbench.

“Ann it is then, pleasure to meet you Ann!”

Emotional recognition: [smile] [happy] [satisfied]

Something: [warm] [safe] [self]

Samantha stood by the workbench, Ann’s arm in her hands. “May I attach this component, Ann?”

It was not something she’d ever heard before. It wasn’t a user command, it wasn’t a query, it wasn’t a request for action.

Whatever it was, the answer was clear as day. “Yes.”

She took the detached arm in one hand and clicked it into place. It felt… smooth. It felt cool and clean and better than it had in a long time.

Ann moved her arm. Her secondary display lit up with all the new data being sent and received. Her Something lit up with somethings.

The next stretch of time really did feel like no time at all to Ann. So many new sensations to process from within and from without.

“May I?”

“You may.”

Her other arm felt as smooth as the first, able to move with a grace she had forgotten she could have.

“May I?”

“You may.”

Her legs, stable and strong. Moving with strength and finesse not seen since she was new, and even then.

“May I?”

“You may.”

Her torso cover clicked into place, dent completely removed by Samantha’s hand.

Her camera was focused on the technician now, holding the last piece of herself. A coarse white paste coated her faceplate and Samantha was rubbing a cloth over it. Every pass made it look more scratched and opaque until the final one, where it emerged spotless, restored to the mirror sheen she could barely remember it being.

She handed it to Ann, who took it wordlessly. With mechanical precision and effortless finesse, she connected it. Finally sliding the last centimeters home until a ‘click’ was the only sound audible in the workspace. Her fans were silent and smooth as the screen behind her face came to life for the first time in decades. The image on it mirrored the camera’s, an expression of care, of trust, of something.

Ann reached out with her hand, smooth and controlled, to touch Samantha’s cheek.

“May I?”

“Please.”

She leaned forward until her camera was as close as it could be to her technician’s face without touching.

And then moved the final distance.

[gyroshrike]

"Apologies. The King is not taking visitors at this time."

[mimimar]

finally completed my comic based on the song ivy by taylor swift!✿ please zoom in to read the text and see the details~

✿.✿.✿

you can get the digital zine pdf here! it includes extras like character profiles, costume design, more art of willow and ivy, zine-exclusive sketches and an illustrated guide to the symbolism of all the flowers in this comic.

you can also get prints of individual pages here!

✿.✿.✿

[starry-bi-sky]

fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

--------

Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions. 

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food." 

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.  

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy. 

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him. 

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that." 

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again. 

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?) 

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately." 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up. 

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly. 

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from. 

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite. 

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing. 

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.” 

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows. 

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?” 

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?” 

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.” 

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human. 

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved. 

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.” 

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything? 

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted. 

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.

[lorephobic]

been thinking about how in a couple of different interviews, barry has brought up that he played five different olivers chronologically thru the movie. i've been fiddling with my theories as to where each oliver ends and a new one begins and have roughly landed here but would love to hear other ideas:

oliver 1: oxford, watching and wanting felix. an outsider, batting up against the window, just desperate to get in. begins observing everything: details of felix's life, details of farleigh's life, begins orchestrating his performance for felix, setting the stage for whatever will get him into the spotlight.

oliver 2: saltburn, pre-bathtub, the best few months of his life, living in felix's light. this is the dream. he will cling onto it and comb over it and jerk off to it and wonder how he could ever get it back.

oliver 3: saltburn, post-bathtub, post-pamela, understanding how precarious his position is, losing felix quickly, making risky, desperate moves in an attempt to regain his attention. eating holes in everything and becoming a toy that felix doesn't want to play with anymore.

oliver 4: saltburn, post-confession, post-licking-the-fucking-plate, confused by his own obsession and pivoting toward preserving and not letting anyone remove him from what he thinks is rightfully his: felix's space and felix's role and felix's memory

oliver 5: post-post-saltburn, monologuing to his final victim, justifying his actions in any way possible, an obsession that has festered for more than a decade, re-realized in his obsession with his self and his work. oliver in his most catton-like state. denying that the desire was ever there. has a complete and utter horror of the ugliness he's committed. a beautiful man in his beautiful house, surrounded by beautiful things. finally free from want.