#and i know it was so hard to sift through myself in an unsafe place like that but i still tried. i was such a good kid and so brave.

[love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward]

growing up is just being embarrassed of your younger selves again and again until you aren't <3

[yandere-mc-yt]

y’ALL TRYNNA MAKE ME SIN 😩😩😩 I just wanna ask you to write out that prompt with psychic darling, techno and chat soooooo bad because it looks so rndmdjskdjdj 🤌🏾 ✨perfect✨ kdndkdkdkdjdjdjd not me having a brainrot 💀☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

It's okay! Lets have brainrot together! Also I hope Techno isn't too ooc, I just think he'd be really repressed and awkward in these kind of situations lmao.

Thermae

Technoblade & Mind Reader GN!Reader

Warnings: Yandere Themes, obsessiveness, delusions mentioned, disassociation(?), kidnapping mentioned, Stockholm syndrome implied, animalistic behavior, NSFW, dubcon, size difference, unsafe sex, rough sex, mild painful sex, body worship implied, praise kink, retracted consent, ruined orgasm(?), humiliation kink(?), sex with an audience(?), ooc(?), idk canon inaccuracies probably, gn!deader

♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡

pretty!!

EEE E E

shut the hell up some of us want to hear techno think

lovenoblade? technolover? FUCK what are we calling him when he stares at them like that??

shut uuuup

You don't look up from pile of clean clothes you're sifting through, trying to pick out what to wear after your bath. Technoblade staring at you from where he is by the door, not having made a move since he allowed you to enter the room. At least he isn't speaking-

You dropped some rolled up socks. It rolled under the bed and you get on your hands and knees to reach under the bed for it. Suddenly Technoblade is behind you and you yelp cutely-

Suddenly you're moaning softly and bent over on the bed. Your captor's lover's hand is on your hips and he's grinding against you. Your underwear is somehow soaked through and you're whining for Techno to take you. He swiftly tugs off your underwear and-

You look up at Technoblade, who looks back at you, acknowledging your attention. You looked cross. "Just because you're not thinking in words, doesn't mean I can't see what you think, Techno."

OOOOOO

oh noooo lmao

LOL imagine getting caught like that couldn't be us

rip

damn I wanted to see how bad this fantasy would have been

"Sorry-"

"Sorry," Techno says out loud as he takes his eyes off of you. You sigh as you toss the clothes yoy want onto the bed and stuff the rest back into the drawers. You'll fix that later if he doesn't get to it first. At least he had the gall to feel some bit of shame.

You turn your body to him and shrug. "It's whatever.... let's just go take a bath before bed."

You ignore how another brief flash of lewd thoughts and fantastical scenarios pass through his mind as you move past him towards the bathroom he had built for you. You also ignore the teasing from the Chat about how the piglin hybrid's home definently didn't have a place to bathe before and that he is a "stinky pig boy" and "stinknoblade". You didn't want to thank him but you felt like you had no choice because honestly.... he made you a custom bathroom that looked like it belonged in a palace. It had felt rude not to thank him, despite these circumstances.

You inhale the steam of the luxious looking bathroom and put your clothes down on a small side table near the massive walk in tub of hot water. You had moved over to the edge and was going to take off your shirt when the anxious boot clacking of your keeper reminded you that you were unfortunately not alone. You click your tongue back at him as you glance back at him. He looks away like he always does and you practically rip your clothes off before getting in.

He looks again when he doesn't hear the water sloshing around anymore. His expression is unreadable but you can hear what he's thinking.

"So pretty lovely looks soft smells good fuck- cute.... I wonder if you'll like the soap I got this time. Its peonies."

You hum as you sink a bit lower in the water, trying to hide your coloring cheeks.

"Yeah, I think peonies smell good." Technoblade makes a face and you have to swallow your smile. "Thanks- now get in here. I want this to be over with."

He nods mutely as he starts to undress and this time its your turn to look away. You sigh as you feel the water move and flinch when you feel his heat on your backside. He isn't even touching you yet.

ugh why is he waiting for permission again

lol whats with the gentleman act

dude they're literally already used you doing this get it over with

y'all better shut up this is like character development or something

i wanna touch they look all soft agaiiin

oooo yea!! touch them

Omgeee body worship kink??

touch them

TOUCH THEM

You let out a shaky sigh and turn around and make eye contact. He has the soap in one hand and the sponge you like in the other. You stand up in the water and exposed yourself to him. Its incredible difficult to ignore the way his pupils dialate when you're still making eye contact.

HOLY COW

isn't it too warm in here for (Y/N)'s nipples to get hard??

NAKED POG

oh my god You know they're practically begging for it now....

Techno swallows audibly and practically slams the bar of soap into the sponge, making an audible wet noise and aggressively lathers them together, looking away again. It makes you jump a bit but you don't say anything. Neither of you do and you almost prefer it that way. Once the sponge has been violently soaped up enough he starts washing you. You don't move and he doesn't stop on any part pf your upper half. It made you think of those old erotic stories of royalty being bathed by a personal servant. You didn't like it.

.....Right now you really wish you two were capable of being normal. Or that any part of your relationship was.

After your front and back have been scrubbed down, you quickly dip back into the water amd rinse yourself off. You look down at your body in the water and hum as you see another fleeting fantasy go past Technoblade's mind.

You're touching him, hands simply on his chest and pressed close to him. You're looking up at him frightened anxiously for a moment before moving away and wading towards the little shelving around an edge in the bathing pool. You flush as you climb onto it and sit. You spread your legs-

You look up at him for a split moment before looking away. You feel shakey and sick, kind of like you're about to throw up. Your gut twists and you press your thighs together on instinct. Shit.

No.

"No-" You swallow as you completely turn your back to Techno. You hear the water move a bit as you assume he's straightening up, you know he's looking directly at you. He's thinking too fast for you to properly hear his thoughts and you refuse to tune into what the Chat is saying right now.

You need to think-

You're on top of him in one of his blouses. Its so big on you but you like it and you liked the way Techno looked at you when you wore it. Technoblade's hands were on your hip and you scoff becuase you didn't want it there. You flushed a bit and took one of them with your fingers and moved it underneath the blouse to your bare stomach. You could feel the way your lips stretched into a goofy smile when he somehow flushed darker than you and his pupils blew up. It actually made you laugh a little. It felt like a little victory. The hand still on your hip twitched.

"I uh..." You bite your lip between your grin. "I like it when your hands are here. They're so warm and they make me feel good sometimes."

He stares and you can hear his thoughts.

"... Makes me feel safe...... so please..."

You blink back the tears but can't stop the shudder and whimper that comes from that memory. Technoblade stands behind you as you realize where you are now. You're stand before the pool shelving and its like your stomach folds in on itself as you whine and stumble back in the water, bumping into him. You both flinch from the sudden skin to skin contact and you feel the overwhelming urge to start wailing.

Technoblade makes a noise as if he's taking a deep breath and you know its over. You pull away from him as soon as his has touches your shoulder, bumping roughly into the shelving. With a grimace, you climb up onto the shelving and spread your shakey legs.

You can't even catch his thoughts whwn he freezes up and the Chat roars.

Holyshitholyshit holySHIT

BRO???

ANOTHER WIN FOR THE HORNY THOUGHTS LETS GOOOOO

Fuck this is so hot what the fuck fuck babe

The cooler water that resides at the edges splash out of the tub and against your backside from the force of him moving so suddenly. Technoblade makes a noise as he hovers over you. His clawed hands grip the edges of the pool so hard you can hear the wood creak. He doesn't say anything as you try to meet his eyes. Visions of all the ways he wants to fuck you right here flash through his mind and it makes you want to close your legs. You end up pressing your thighs against his and you both gasp.

You bite your lip. "Soap." He blinks dumbly and you almost change your mind about all of this. "The scentless soap," you try to clarify. "I need to prep myself."

The Chat chatters loudly as Techno moved away. You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath as he returns to the water and reslots himself between your legs. You take the bottle from him and try to get comfortable as he uncomfortably stares directly at your groin. Already used to this scenario, you tune him out as you pop the bottle open and pour the slick substance onto yourself. You then put the bottle to the side and slide your hand down.

This isn't the first time you've had to stretch yourself (especially since your sexual partner couldn't- not with those sharp fingertips) and far from the first time you've taken the Blade so your fingers slip in with little resistance. You shudder and remind yourself to hate how he ruined you as you skip adding a second finger and go straight for three.

You hear the creak of the wood on the edge of the pool again but ignore looking up or at Technoblade as you keep fingering yourself until you're sure you're done. As soon as your fingers were out, his cock was slapped against your inner thigh. You yelp and look up at him.

He looks down at you as he finally puts his hands on you. You hiss when he drags your ass against the shelving to pull you closer.

"Sorry-" he thinks before opening his mouth to say it out loud, but you interrupt him. You grab him by the forearm as he has your thighs and lean foward a bit, biting your lip. You suck in a breath before letting out a whine.

"Shut the fuck up- stop fucking thinking and fuck me baby."

Being so used to hearing other's people thoughts without tuning them out (even now in these current times with everything Technoblade this accursed SMP has put you through), you aren't prepared to be sp overwhelmed by whatever the hell happens in your captor's head that makes you blackout for a moment. Its like you blink and whatever sexually charged energy you had before is replaced with fear.

Somewhere in the milliseconds after you said those words, Technoblade pushed you back roughly against the shelving and the edge of the pool and was now almost balls deep inside of you. You feel the pain blossoming against the back of your head apart of your back and yelp when you feel him fill you up oh so fucking good.

Its too much.

"Tech-" You make an ugly noise as he thrusts deeper somhow. Fuck- too much.

Whatever you were trying to get out is lost on your tongue as he starts fucking into you with total abandon. Its so good and bad and great and uncomfortable and painful-

The force of his movements rocks you into the edges of the pool and makes the cooled off water splash around and hit you in the face. You've let go of his arms, instead trying to brace yourself against the shelving the best you can with no way to get a proper grip. All you can do is whine and gasp.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry fuck"

"(Y/N)," comes out in a growl and you whimper. You don't know when he leaned closer. Technoblade's tusk scratch the junction between your jaw and neck. You take this opportunity to grab onto him again and moan high.

He rocks hard into you and its so much better now- fuck you can feel every inch of him. It makes you pull yourself closer to him and sob.

"Techno- Techno Techno Techno," he groans low and licks a hot strip against your neck. You breifly wonder if he's licking sweat off or left over water that was dripping down from the bath you were having a few minutes ago. You don't wonder much longer as you feel the twist in your gut from earlier tighten. You sob again.

"No no no no no," you gasp as you hold on tighter and he gets rougher. "Fuck, Techno baby please please please..."

Miraculously, the beast hears your prayers but he doesn't slow down. He pulls back and pushes you away completely. You almost don't catch yourself against the pool's edge. He's still in you for amoment more before pulling out with a wince and you cry out.

You feel dissatisfaction start to replace the lust in your head but its quickly snuffed out when Technoblade grabs you and flips you over on the shelving. He shoves you hard onto your knees with your elbows over the edge as he reenters you from behind and you shout. The change in position, depth and temperature catch you completely off guard and interupts the flow. You don't feel as aroused as you were before. You're sore.

"T-Techno?" You try to turn around to look back at him but he hits something deep inside of you hard. You put a knuckle between your teeth. "Techno? Techno please it hurts now please Techno!"

He gets even rougher and you yelp when your knees hit the wall of the pool. A shadow is cast over you and water from Technoblade's body drips down onto you as he goes full throttle and rails you like this. Fuck.

"Techno Techno Techno please love-" you manage to get out before his thrusts take your voice away. You're belly feels warm again and you sob a bit defeated. You're heads clear again and you cry as your mind races. You can't hear his thoughts properly even now- too jumbled up in the midst of him borderline mindlessly fucking you. You however can hear the Chat clearly once again. It makes your gut twist disgustingly deliciously.

Fuck baby you're doing so good

while crying is sexy can you plz go back to making those cute noises k thanx

they're not enjoying it anymore don't be fucking rude :/

Roughnoblade /neg

(Y/N) oh poor baby they're crying!!

Techno you're being too rough damn bitch

hey you're okay love you're okay plz don't cry....

Gods we're so sorry but you DO look so fucking hot like this

fuck I bet you're going to bruise so nice

Yeah techno is going to be staring at them until they heal up lmao

You bite your lip and just take it until that twisted feeling snaps and you cum like this. Techno rides out your orgasm before you feel him get bigger (or you tightned in discomfort) and he spills into you. You whimper when he pulls out and you feel the hot cum start to slide out of you. Unfortunately for you, your lover doesn't leave you bent over the cold bathing pool's edge like that for howver long you wished to and readjusts your limp form before he finishes cleaning you. You sniffle as he takes ypu out of the water and bundles you up in the softest towel he has.

"It hurt." You said simply and Technoblade glances up at where he was now kneeling by your legs, helping you put on your underwear. He looked almost guilty.

"I'm sorry," he says softly.

"G̸̨͍͍̮͙̝͍̲̾͆̌̅̓̾̕Ȏ̵̡̡̳̣̟͕͍͍̘̱͗͝͝Ô̸̪̯̰̅͗͠D̷̟̘̦͕̼͈̻̏͗̋̂̿̔̕͘," he thinks.

You wonder if he still hopes you don't hear him.

[fruitcoops]

More “biting” 😉 stories of coops please?

Anon 1: Do you think you’d be willing to do more kinky coops? Maybe a follow up to truth or drink where Sirius gets tied up again?

Anon 2: Mixed prompts 80-83 pls!!

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! This is part 1 of today’s fics--hope you enjoy! Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove, whom I love and adore.

TW for restraint kink, edging, smut, and hickeys

Mixed Prompt 80:  “ You’re going to regret that sweetheart.”

81: “Are we clear?”

82: “Try to stay quiet, understand?”

83:  “Don’t hold back, baby.”

“Did you see Coach’s email?” Remus asked as he scrolled through his inbox and reached for another piece of chocolate; they were shaped like little hearts, because Sirius was a sweet, sweet muppet of a man and had a romantic streak wider than the continental US.

“I did, yeah,” Sirius said from the doorway to the kitchen. “It’ll be pretty nice, having two days off in a row.”

Remus read through the rest of the message. Too much snow, unsafe conditions, practice cancelled, yada yada yada. A sudden thought struck him and he glanced up. “Hey, maybe we could try something a little more…”

Sirius grinned as the chocolate clattered to the countertop, along with Remus’ phone. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

Remus swallowed around the sudden dryness of his mouth. Chest. Arms??? THIGHS. FUCK. “Huh?”

“I was saving these for our actual day off, but it seems fate had other plans.” Sirius’ grin became a downright smirk as he quirked an eyebrow and bent his knee.

“When—how—what?” Remus couldn’t tear his eyes away from the tight, dark red fabric that covered Sirius’ legs up to his thighs. Bows. The socks had bows on the top, and they matched his underwear. “How long have you been standing there?”

Sirius shrugged. The upper half of his body was bare, and Remus tracked the movement of every muscle. “About five minutes. Your email must be very exciting.”

A soft whine escaped his throat. “Where did you get those?”

“Online.” Sirius flexed his thigh and all the air rushed from Remus’ lungs. “Why, do you like them?”

“I want to take them off with my teeth,” he blurted. “Fucking hell, Sirius.”

“That can be arranged.” Mischief played at the edge of his mouth as he began backing away. “Though you’ll have to catch me first.”

And he ran. Remus stood there in shock for a moment before sprinting after him, skidding on the floor as he grabbed the bannister. Sirius was already on the bed when he made it to their room and snapped the top of one thigh-high at Remus playfully.

“You’re going to regret that, sweetheart.”

“Promise?”

Remus was on him in an instant, sucking a bruise into the side of his neck as he pushed Sirius’ arms over his head and settled between his thighs, grinding his hips down. “How long have you had these?” When Sirius smiled instead of responding, he bit down on his shoulder. “Tell me.”

“Four days.”

“Where did you hide them?”

Sirius gasped at the pressure on his wrists. “Nightstand.”

“Do you have any idea what you look like right now?”

A slow, smug look covered his face and he nipped Remus’ bottom lip. “Yes.”

“Turn over.” Sirius bucked his hips up instead, and Remus let go of his hands to flip him hard enough he bounced a bit, then attached his mouth to his shoulder blade. “God, you look fucking incredible in red, baby.”

“You think this was an accident?”

“Somebody’s feeling bratty.” Remus dragged his blunt nails down Sirius’ ribs, and he shivered. “Just for that, I’m going to finger you until you’re begging for it. Are we clear?”

Sirius turned his head to the side and rolled his hips back. “I’m not begging for anything.”

“We’ll see.” Remus continued mouthing along the strong line of his shoulders as he fumbled blindly in the nightstand drawer for the lube, then paused. He straddled Sirius’ waist and leaned over to sift through the various items that they had tossed in without thinking—playing cards, a book, Sirius’ tie, a few condoms that they hadn’t touched in months… “What the fuck?”

“What?”

“Where’s the lube?”

“Are we out?”

Dread pooled in Remus’ gut. The mere thought of trekking through the snow to get lube or—even worse—finding out all the stores were closed was almost enough to kill his boner. Almost. Sirius was still in red underwear and fucking thigh highs, after all. “No. We can’t be out. Didn’t we just buy some the other day?”

Sirius shrugged. “It’s been a while, I don’t know.”

“It has been a while,” Remus muttered.

“I think I put some in the laundry room so we would have extra.”

Relief made butterflies erupt in his chest and he kissed Sirius’ cheek. “You are so smart and I love you. Hang on one second, okay?”

Remus’ hands shook a little bit as he hurried back downstairs and down the hall, standing on his tiptoes to see into the cupboards. Laundry detergent, Windex, fabric sheets, two pairs of Jules’ socks…

He pushed the detergent aside and felt around for the familiar bottle. “Where the hell did you put it? Come on, baby, work with me here.”

Clear plastic caught the light on the highest shelf and Remus thumped his forehead against the washing machine. He got the stepstool with minimal grumbling and grabbed the lube, making a mental note to block that entire shelf and remind Sirius that he was five foot fucking eleven, which was well above average.

“Baby, we need to have a discussion about—” He stopped cold in the bedroom doorway, then sighed. “Really?”

Sirius arched his back as he pressed two fingers back into himself, his jaw going a little slack. “You were slow.”

Remus took a deep breath when he saw the half-full bottle of lube on the bed next to him. “Where’d you hide that?”

“Under my pillow. You didn’t even check.” Sirius’ breath caught as his hand changed angles, but his smile remained. “I thought you’d call me on it for sure.”

“You know, most people wouldn’t play terribly mean tricks on their fiancé on Valentine’s Day, especially when that fiancé was already going to fuck them so hard they can’t walk straight,” Remus said as he walked slowly toward the bed and tossed the other bottle next to Sirius. “You’d better count your lucky stars we don’t have practice for the next two days.”

“Oh?” Sirius eyes fluttered shut for a second and he reached for more.

Remus smacked his hand away. “Yes. Was the shelf really necessary?”

“I had to delay you somehow. Did you use the stepstool, or did you climb on the dryer?”

“None of your fucking business, tall-ass. Turn over.”

“Make me.”

Remus reached back into the nightstand and pulled the tie out, manhandling Sirius’ arms over his head and tying them to the small ring they had put in the headboard for that exact purpose. Sirius made a confused noise when Remus grabbed his silky-soft underwear off the foot of the bed and slid it back up his legs until it was snug and tight again. “Much better.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what happened to fucking me until I can’t walk straight?” Sirius’ eyebrows drew together and he nudged his leg against Remus’ side, only to have it guided back down by a firm hand. “Come on, sweetheart, it’s Valentine’s Day!”

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” Remus said drily as he squeezed the thin strip of bare skin on Sirius’ thighs. “Between the super fun game of tag and then hide-and-seek, I thought you didn’t want me to touch you.”

“But you will, right?” Nervousness laced his voice. “Right?”

“Maybe. Might get myself off and then leave you here, though.” He leaned over and dragged his lips down Sirius’ chest. “I’m still on the fence.”

“Non, non, non, get off the fence. The fence is not a fun place to be.”

“Really?” He continued to the edge of Sirius’ waistband and dipped his tongue under the satiny fabric, then feathered his mouth along the outline of his dick until Sirius’ knees started inching upward in pleasure. “Hmm. I think it’s a great place to be, actually. You could beg yourself hoarse and I wouldn’t have to do a goddamn thing.”

“What do I have to do?” Sirius panted. The front of his boxers was already darkening with precome and his pupils dilated when Remus palmed himself through his pants.

“Try to stay quiet, understand?”

Sirius clenched his thighs around Remus’ waist as he pulled his shirt off, only to shakily straighten them out again when Remus fixed him with a withering look. His dick looked painfully hard as Remus got off the bed and slid his pants down his legs, giving Sirius a great view of his ass under the tight black underwear he was wearing.

“Oh, yeah, that was supposed to be a surprise for you,” he said mildly when Sirius whined. “It’s Valentine’s Day, after all. One of us was getting railed tonight.”

Sirius perked up. “Really?”

“That was the original plan. Now that you’ve got these—” He plucked the edges of the thigh-highs as he knelt on the mattress again. “—I might need to rethink that idea.”

“Nope, no you don’t.” Sirius wrapped his legs around Remus’ hips and tugged him down. “You really don’t need to rethink that, it sounds like a fantastic idea—”

Remus pressed his palm over Sirius’ mouth and pushed his legs down with the other. “What did I say about being quiet?”

A soft noise tore from his chest as Remus ran the heel of his hand up Sirius’ dick and felt it twitch beneath the fabric. “Desolée,” he said as Remus scooted backwards a few inches. “Desolée, mon coeur.”

“Good job.” Sirius sighed happily as he worked a hickey onto the bit of skin between his underwear and his socks, but his chest hitched when Remus moved barely an inch to the side.

“What’re you doing?”

“Decorating.”

“Me?”

He sighed and bracketed Sirius’ ribs with his elbows, resting his chin on his hands. “Yes, you. You’re beautiful, and I’m just making sure people know you’re appreciated. Now be quiet.”

“Nobody’s going to see those. They’ll be gone in three days.”

“I’ll know.” Remus placed a slightly darker bruise on his inner thigh and Sirius’ hips canted to the side with pleasure. He hummed against his skin, then pulled away. “I’ll have to finish these when I turn you over.”

“When?”

“If.”

“Re.”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffed with a smile, leaning up for a brief kiss. “You know me better than that.”

Sirius’ eyes crinkled. “I do.”

“Let me enjoy myself in the meantime, yeah? I think I deserve it after everything you’ve done today,” he teased, adding new hickeys to Sirius’ other thigh until the bare skin was mostly dark lilac. He skimmed kisses down both his legs, paying special attention to the backs of his knees and the cute little bows at the tops of his thighs. “I love these.”

“Yeah?” A pink flush spread to Sirius’ chest.

“Yeah. Somehow, they’re both adorable and sexy.” Remus reached up and tapped his nose. “Just like you.”

And then he licked a long, slow stripe up the front of Sirius’ underwear, which made him shake from head to toe. “Oh, fuck me.”

“Not yet.” He did it again, this time giving his hips a squeeze. A choked moan slipped through and he shushed him softly. “Quiet, baby, remember? I’ll tell you when you can make noise for me.”

“Oh.” Sirius’ eyebrows pitched upward as Remus slowly slid the sticky fabric down and replaced it with his tongue. “S’il vous plait. S’il vous plait, mon cœur, je le veux, s’il vous plait. ”

“What did I tell you?”

“I—I—” Sirius clenched his teeth as Remus sucked just the head of his dick into his mouth. His abdomen jolted under Remus’ palms.

“You’re getting all accent-y.” Remus smirked, leaving a mark on the crest of his hipbone. “I told you that you could beg yourself hoarse and I wouldn’t have to do a god—” He kissed the soft skin below Sirius’ ribs. “—damn—” Another kiss, just under his sternum. “—thing.”

A tremor ran through Sirius and he pulled on his restraint for a moment, hard enough that the headboard creaked. “Ngh. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I think it’s time to finish those decorations, hmm?”

Sirius nodded enthusiastically and Remus untied his hands, flipping him by the hips for the second time. He practically purred as Remus tied him up again and pressed his hands into that broad back; Remus pushed his knees until they bent and Sirius propped himself on his elbows, breathing heavily and bare but for his thigh high socks.

“Color?”

“Green.” There was no hesitation in his voice.

“Good.” Instead of going straight to his legs again—which were flexed in the new position and doing absolutely wonderful things to Remus’ thought process—Remus grabbed the half-empty lube and poured some on his fingers.

“What’re you doing?” Sirius asked, trying to shift around and see. He froze when the first finger pushed in without an issue. “Huh. But—but you said—”

“I didn’t tell you to start making noise.” Sirius pressed his face into the pillow and his knees jerked inward as Remus added a second finger. “You already did this part for me, didn’t you?”

“Mhmm.”

“But I didn’t tell you to.”

“No.” The word was barely a whisper.

“And as much as I love you—” He kissed Sirius’ lower back and scraped his teeth along the dimples there. “—and want to make you fall apart, I can’t let you do whatever you want without consequences.”

“Yes, you can,” Sirius gasped, tightening around him as Remus pressed upward. “You can, I don’t mind.”

“No, I can’t, and you’d better be quiet before I drag this out even longer.”

There was a beat of silence while Sirius got ahold of himself again. “How long? The usual?”

“Since it’s Valentine’s Day, eight minutes.” Remus smoothed a hand up his spine and pressed down between his shoulder blades until most of his upper chest was on the pillows before slowly dragging his fingers in and out, pushing just next to his sweet spot until Sirius quaked with the effort of suppressing his moans. He added a third finger a moment later and Sirius’ thighs knocked together. “Hold yourself up, baby.”

Sirius pulled his elbows in once again, supporting his chest as Remus added a few new hickeys to his thigh and stretched him slow and deep. He gave his wrist a twist when he moved to the right side and Sirius dipped for half a second, one leg threatening to give out.

“Hold yourself up,” Remus reminded him, wrapping an arm around his lower belly and lifting slightly; Sirius’ breath caught and his shoulders folded in a bit. “You okay?”

“Ouais.”

“Alright. Two minutes left.” He pushed his fingers in further and felt the ripple of pleasure roll through Sirius under his mouth, then kissed the middle of his back. “Like that?”

“Uh-huh.” Sirius’ voice was tight with pleasure and wavered with swallowed moans.

Remus flexed his fingers and brushed against his prostate; Sirius nearly collapsed onto the bed and a whining noise was half-muffled by the sheets. “What was that?”

“ ‘s nothing, ‘s nothing, keep going.” Sirius tried to get to his elbows again, but even though Remus had stopped moving, he seemed to be having trouble. “Sweetheart, please.”

“You know the rules, baby. Five more minutes.”

“I can’t—I can’t—”

“You will.” Remus rubbed Sirius’ side to soothe him, but didn’t take his fingers out. “How about this: if you can hold yourself up and make no noises for two full minutes, I’ll fuck you and you can come whenever you want. Sound good?”

Sirius nodded frantically and struggled to get his knees under himself. “D’accord.”

“Time starts…now.” Remus kept his eyes on the clock as he plucked at Sirius’ seams, spreading his thighs to get a better angle when it looked like he was starting to relax into the feeling. One minute left. Something that would have been a moan if Sirius had a little less willpower lodged in his chest and he tensed around Remus, legs shaking with arousal. He was damn near dripping onto the sheets.

Forty-five seconds. Remus bit his lip and ran his free hand up Sirius’ thigh, digging into the bruises just enough to get his attention. “You look so pretty with these,” he murmured, leaving a trail of small bites down his spine. “It must have been hard finding thigh highs that fit, huh? You’re so strong, so beautiful, and I love that about you.” He made sure to run over Sirius’ sweet spot on every drag until his breaths got shallower and his dick twitched. Twenty seconds. “You don’t really want to come right away, do you? You like it when I take control. You like being tied down and edged until you’re a mess. Ten seconds left, baby.”

Sirius’ back bowed as Remus’ hand brushed his dick. “Pas juste,” he blurted, then groaned when Remus paused. “Fuck.”

“Was that a sound?”

“No, no it wasn’t.” He pushed back against Remus’ hand and whined when he pulled his fingers out. “Re, I only had five seconds left.”

“Bummer, isn’t it?” Remus said with mock-pity, rubbing wide circles along Sirius’ ass and thighs.

“One more chance?”

“We had a deal, love. Two minutes, no sounds, no falling. You did so well and then you tripped at the finish line.”

“You touched my dick.”

“Was that against the rules?”

Sirius huffed and glared over his shoulder, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the pink of his cheeks and the pleading look in his eye. “It was in my head.”

Remus made a sympathetic noise. “It’s a shame you’re not in charge today, then. Chest down.”

“I want to see you.”

“Later. Down.” Sirius rolled his eyes, but complied so his back sloped in a gentle curve; Remus smacked his thigh lightly. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“Oops.”

“Apologize.” When he stayed silent, Remus slid two fingers back into him. “Sirius, apologize or I’ll get you off by fingering you.”

“I’m sor—sorry.” His hips jerked as Remus pushed on his prostate one last time.

“That wasn’t so hard, huh?” He pulled his own underwear down and tossed it to the side, reaching down to push Sirius’ thighs apart while he lubed up. “Don’t hold back, baby, you can be loud now.”

“Oh thank God,” Sirius breathed, shuddering a bit as Remus pressed in and began to move. “Oh—oh, oh fuck.”

“Color?”

“Fuck—green.” He gripped the poor necktie and twisted it in his hands while the pace made his knees slip. Remus put his arm around Sirius’ midsection once again while the other hand splayed on his back and held him down into the pillows.

The thigh highs began to bunch from all the movement and Remus slowed, reaching down to adjust them while Sirius clenched and unclenched his hands, mumbling out a string of pleas in English and French alike. Remus stilled for a moment and kissed the side of his neck as he relished in the heat.

“Move,” Sirius moaned, pushing back weakly. “Please, please move.”

“I love you so much,” Remus said into his sweat-slick skin as he started again, angling up on each thrust as he lifted Sirius’ hips into the right spot. “I do, baby. And I can’t wait to have two whole days to ourselves so I can admire those pretty bruises all over you.”

“Lemme—lemme see you. S’il vous plait, mon amour, I wanna see you.”

“Alright, shhh.” Remus combed a hand through his hair and untied his wrists; they were a bit pink from all the pulling, but otherwise looked fine. He gently pushed on Sirius’ shoulder so he could roll over and was met with glassy silver eyes and lips bitten so red they almost matched his socks. “Bonjour. Do you want me to tie you up?”

“Non.” Sirius smiled and pulled him down for a slow kiss, and Remus could feel his heartbeat hammering against his shoulder. “Je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime,” he murmured back as he lined himself up again. Sirius’ eyes fell shut with a moan when Remus pushed in and he inhaled deeply, winding one leg with Remus’ and letting the other splay to the side.

“There, there, there,” he pleaded, grasping for a hold on Remus’ arms as his eyes flickered between open and shut. “Oh, fuck, je veux—je veux—”

“Do you think you deserve to come?” Sirius made a conflicted noise and pressed his knee into Remus’ thigh, only for Remus to pull it straight once more; the sock rolled down with each rocking movement. “Sirius, look at me. Do you want to come?”

It took a moment before Sirius made eye contact with him and nodded, struggling to get enough breath to speak. “Yes.”

“You were so rude earlier, but I did make you wait a long time.” Remus thought for a second, but didn’t slow his brutal pace that made Sirius turn his face into the pillows. “Can you come like this?”

“Touch me—touch me please—”

Remus lifted his lower back up and ran his teeth along Sirius’ pulse point, then wrapped a hand around his dick and jerked him quick and tight until high, incoherent sounds slipped through his lips. “Now.”

Sirius nearly kicked him in the shin as he arched his back, mouth falling open, moans muffled in the hollow of Remus’ throat. He babbled some string of whimpered words, caught between pushing Remus away and pulling him closer until their warm skin pressed across his entire front and his knees bumped together over the small of Remus’ back.

Remus followed him a moment later, sliding his mouth along Sirius’ collarbone before he came so hard his arms shook with it. A soft hand trailing through his hair brought him back to earth, though Sirius still looked dazed and shuddered every few seconds as Remus stroked a hand down his cheek and slid the thigh-highs back up with the other. “Shh, mon amour. Ça va, chérie, respire. Je t’aime tellement. ”

Sirius smiled and kissed him again, holding him close and warm as he pulled out. “I love it when you speak French,” he murmured. “Si beau.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Their quiet laughter buzzed against his chest and he littered Sirius’ face with kisses until his silver eyes cleared. “Are your wrists alright?”

With a heavy sigh, he let go of Remus and held them up. “All good.”

He kissed those, too, for good measure. “And the rest of you?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “I think you achieved your goal.”

“Which one?”

“There is no way I’m going to be able to walk straight.”

Remus hid his laughter in Sirius’ neck and rolled to the side, gathering him into his arms. “It’s a good thing we have all weekend, then.” He checked the clock and sighed. “I should make dinner soon.”

“No.”

“No? I’m not allowed to make us food?”

“Nope.”

“But that’s my present for you.”

“Your present to me is currently on my thighs and won’t disappear in half an hour.” He felt Sirius smile and nuzzle closer, then gentle pressure on his neck.

“What are you doing?”

“Payback.” Sirius rolled him onto his back and began speckling his neck and shoulders with small love bites, outlining his ribs with featherlight touches. Remus reached down and snapped the edge of his thigh high. “Hey!”

He grinned. “Couldn’t resist. You’re going to keep these, right?”

“Duh.” Sirius wound their legs together and cuddled into Remus’ side. “Mmm, you are so warm.”

Remus wrapped both arms around him and kissed the top of his head, closing his eyes. Naptime sounded good. Naptime, then dinner, then back to bed for more snuggles, or maybe something more. It was Valentine’s Day, after all.

-------------------------------

The Next Morning

The first thing Sirius saw when he woke up was gray. The second was Remus’ shocked face, followed by an ‘oh, fuck’.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, propping himself on his elbows with a wince. His backside ached from yesterday’s activities, and his thighs were still incredibly sensitive—he noted that the matching rings of hickeys had not diminished much overnight with a sense of satisfaction. Remus was staring down at his phone as rain drizzled softly outside.

Wait. Rain.

Silently, Remus passed him the phone. Sirius squinted at the screen, blinking the drowsiness out of his eyes, then froze.

Hello team,

Due to improved weather conditions and snow melt, practice today has been rescheduled for 4 pm. Thank you for your flexibility.

Best,

A. Weasley

“Oh, fuck.”

[fritae]

the missing piece (dabi)

chapter 15 - black market

gang! au / ceo! au

characters: dabi x f. oc, lov

status: ongoing

read on ao3 here.

Dabi grabs my hand into his as we weave through the crowds.

I feel strange in my new clothes. Dabi made me change out of my work fit and into black jeans and an oversized hoodie. Dressing so casual feels...alien to me. For years, all I've known is how to look perfect and impeccable.

But...

"You'll stick out like a sore thumb," Dabi had warned.

I can't say I'm upset though. My feet are especially relieved. After going week after week in heels, the sneakers are more than welcome.

And they make me look smaller next to Dabi.

I'm excited, though in the back of mind lies the thought of what's to come after this illusive deal. Will I still have time to do what I was planning tonight? If I miss it.... I swallow. I won't get another chance like this again.

Dabi snaps me out of my thoughts. "Lighten up a little," He says without looking back at me. Then with a smile he adds, "I can still replace you with Jin, you know."

I chuckle and hold his hand closer. My heart flutters at this moment I get to enjoy with him, just the two of us like back then. I love the League, of course. But I miss the Dabi that comes out when it's just the two of us.

Like he has a side only I get to see.

Dabi seems much more comfortable with our fingers intertwined than before.

Maybe it's cause he initiated it this time.

But the way he pulls me along with him feels almost...

Protective.

"So how this works is you're safe so long as you're with someone who can make anyone else feel unsafe."

I look up at Dabi and he grins.

"That's me."

"You?"

As we speak, a drunk man pushes into Dabi. Before I have time to process what's happening, Dabi shoves his entire leg deep into the man's gut.

I yelp in surprise.

A resounding squelch is heard as the poor fellow doubles over.

"Watch where you're fucking going," Dabi clucks his tongue nonchalantly before walking away.

I immediately see the crowd make way for him to pass.

"I see," I squeak.

The incident doesn't phase Dabi at all.

We keep sifting through the people, up and down corners and alleys until we reach a particularly loud restaurant. There are skulls strung together with thread at the entrance and a strange smell emanating from its door.

I swallow and look at Dabi in askance.

Of course, that's the place we enter.

"If you're scared you can hold onto me," He says into my ear.

There's a calm smirk on his face, looking way too relaxed for someone in a shop with literal skulls adorning the walls.

Part of me wants to give him a snarky response, but as I see the large, shady individuals that fill the entrance, my hand reaches for his bicep, ensuring people can see that I'm not here alone.

Dabi puts a hand on my lower back as we go down a flight of stairs. Every time someone glances at us, he shoots them a glare that forces their eyes forward.

"Keep your head up," He mutters to me as we make our way downstairs. "No one's gonna touch you, you're with me. Looking at the floor makes you look like a target."

I try to take his advice. I imagine I'm at the Blaze, second in command to Dabi. The thought forces my back straighter, my footsteps firmer in response.

"Atta girl," Dabi holds me tighter.

I can't help feeling we could almost be a couple like this.

A couple?!

Not what I should be thinking about right now.

I hide my cheek against Dabi's arm so he doesn't see me blush.

We continue down the hall, passing various suspect faces, until we reach a wooden, worn down door. There's another drunken old man sitting on the floor outside it, his head bowed down like he was sleeping.

Dabi steps over him and reaches for me. I take his hand, but before I could hop over the man's legs, a long cane comes between me and Dabi.

I blink.

"No newcomers past this point." The man grumbles.

"Why?"

"New rules."

Dabi groans.

I expect him to fight the old man or take me in regardless, but to my surprise, he sighs.

"Can you stay here for a while?"

My brows knit together. "What happened to..."

"I know - my bad. Gotta pick your battles. It's not worth it. Give me a few minutes. Okay?"

I hesitantly look around me, but not wanting him to think I can't stay alone for a few minutes, I nod.

And he disappears behind the door.

I stand awkwardly, shifting my weight from one side to the other as I wait for Dabi to reappear. My legs start to hurt and I almost lean against the wall for support. But seeing the grime that covers it, I think its safer to stay as far from it as possible.

Drunken people walk all around me, and I do my best to ignore them.

After a few minutes with nothing to do, I pull out my phone to make myself look busy.

But in the midst of my scrolling, my blood turns to ice as I feel someone's hand on my ass.

Without thinking, I dig my heel into the foot of whoever stood behind me and hear a resounding 'ooomph!'

Then before they have time to recover, I turn around and slap the figure so hard, the sound of their head slamming into the grimey walls brings people outside out of curiosity.

"Who the fuck gave you permission to touch me?" I spit out.

The man groans in pain.

A wolf whistle behind me makes me turn around.

I look over my shoulder and see Dabi wearing an expression he's never had before.

"That was hot," He claps slowly. I stand up as he walks my way, eyeing the groaning body beneath me. With a chuckle, he kicks the man's legs and grins wider when he hears a scream. "What'd he do?"

I give the man I final dirty glance before stepping away. "Put his hands where he wasn't supposed to."

Dabi leans down beside the man.

"Did you know she was here with me?"

The man sees Dabi and starts sputtering, crawling away from him immediately. "No, no!" He babbles. "I- I swear, if I-"

But Dabi strikes him with his fist, making his head ring against the floor.

"And look where that got you."

Dabi brushes his hands off and gets up.

"Violent one, aren't you?" I ask, looking over his shoulder at the groaning mess.

"Better to be the violent one than stand on the other side of him."

Well, he's not wrong...

Everything was strategic to Dabi.

"Are you done here?"

"Made the deal. They're arguing about it. If they have a single good head in there then..." He grins.

"They should be out shortly."

[ridiculousyoungicarus]

i wanna hide the truth, i wanna shelter you

a love letter to luxor’s zander driskell

I want to start off with a disclaimer that there’s a bunch more pre-Luxor content on this one compared to the girls’, but with Zander it felt extremely important to explore that aspect. There’s a note on the section where I’m finally playing him in the roleplay due to that, but anything before that point is before I started playing him in the group. Anyway, I’m proud to present a 3 hour Zander playlist, come help me judge him for the amount of references to his dad and Ches throughout this entire playlist.

Yet again I’d like to thank Lex for help throughout this process, and warn everyone that the usual Zander trigger warnings are all over this playlist (mental health, violence, abuse / child abuse, etc etc). Anything additional is noted on the sections.

‘cause i had a fire, passion and desire. now all i require are circuits and wires | pre-luxor:

zander before attending luxor additional tws: potential self harm (breathe me)

iRobot (Jon Bellion) [ I was a human, before you killed me and ripped my heart out. ] // Breathe Me - Acoustic (Jonathan Roy) [ I think that I might break and lost myself again and I feel so unsafe. ] // Tell Me Why (Taylor Swift) [ Why do you have to make me feel small so you can feel whole inside? Why do you have to put down my dreams so you're the only thing on my mind? ] // Weight Of Living, Pt. II (Bastille) [ All that you desired when you were a child was to be old. Now that you are here, suddenly you fear you've lost control. ]

happiness is beautiful to see, won't you box it up for me? | sophomore year:

zander’s sophomore year at luxor, and the introduction to one ches elswood. additional tws: bleed out can be extremely uncomfortable to listen to with the whole, bleeding out theme. please skip that song if you feel you need to

Cop Car (Keith Urban) [ You were thinking that running for it would make a good story; I was thinking you were crazy as hell. ] // Don't Trust Me (Phillip Phillips) [ So when I say I'm okay, don't trust me. ] // Burn Out (Imagine Dragons) [ Oh, give me strength, and give me peace. Does anyone out there want to hear me? ] // Crawling (Linkin Park) [ This lack of self-control I fear is never-ending. Controlling, I can't seem. ] // Bleed Out (Blue October) [ Will I bleed out? I gave it all, but you can't stop taking from me. And way down, I know you know where to cut me with your eyes closed. ] // Don't Sing the Blues (Bohnes) [ I was ridiculous, young Icarus. I flew too close to the sun. ]

do you remember all the plans we made? | helena:

a section dedicated to zander’s relationship with helena additional tws: sex (carry your throne), alcohol (tonight I wanna cry)

Carry Your Throne (Jon Bellion) [ If you're lost in this darkness I'll carry your throne. No, I won't let it swallow you whole. ] // Snake Eyes (Mumford & Sons) [ It's in the eyes. I can tell, you will always be danger. ] // Halfway Gone (Lifehouse) [ You were always hard to hold, so letting go ain't easy. I'm hanging on but growing cold. ] // The Promise (Andy Black) [ Tell me what ever happened to the love we gave, the promise that we both betrayed. ] // Tonight I Wanna Cry (Keith Urban) [ And I thought that bein' strong meant never losin' your self-control, but I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain. To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain from my eyes, tonight I want to cry. ]

i say one day the valley is gonna swallow me whole, i feel like a photo that's been overexposed | junior year (‘18-‘19):

junior year of high school, fairly self explanatory additional tws: smoking (antisocial)

Flaws (Bastille) [ You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve and I have always buried them deep beneath the ground. Dig them up. Let's finish what we've started. ] // Battle Cry (Imagine Dragons) [ Just one more time before I go, I'll let you know that all this time I've been afraid, wouldn't let it show. Nobody can save me now, no. ] // 12 Rounds (Bohnes) [ I'm coming home, I've got some things to say. My gloves are on and my shoes are almost laced. ] // Novocaine (Fall Out Boy) [ Don’t mind me, I’m just the son of a gun. So don’t stop, don't stop 'till your heart goes numb. Now I’m just numb, I don’t feel a thing for you. ] // Machine (Imagine Dragons) [ 'Cause I've been wondering when you gonna see I'm not for sale. I've been questioning when you gonna see I'm not a part of your machine. ] // Antisocial (Ed Sheeran feat. Travis Scott) [ So antisocial, but I don't care. Don't give a damn, I'm gonna smoke here. ] // Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea (Fall Out Boy) [ Seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind and all my childhood heroes have fallen off or died. ] // Never Going Back (The Score) [ I'm never gonna follow just because they say so. ]

consign me not to darkness | summer 2019:

the summer after the merge, where zander is stuck at home working for lance additional tws:  alcohol (if you’re going through hell)

Two Evils (Bastille) [ I'm the lesser of two evils or am I tricking myself nice? ] // Man or a Monster (Sam Tinnesz feat. Zayde Wølf) [ When you look at yourself, are you a man or a monster? ] // DNA (Lia Marie Johnson) [ Are the pieces of you in the pieces of me? I'm just so scared you're who I'll be. When I erupt just like you do, they look at me like I look at you. ] // Broken Crown (Mumford & Sons) [ So crawl on my belly 'til the sun goes down I'll never wear your broken crown. I can take the road and I can fuck it all away, but in this twilight, our choices seal our fate. ] // If You're Going Through Hell {Before The Devil Even Knows} (Rodney Atkins) [ I've been deep down in that darkness, I've been down to my last match. Felt a hundred different demons breathin' fire down my back. ] // Mud On the Tires (Brad Paisley) [ 'Cause it's a good night to be out there soakin' up the moonlight. ] // Pray For You (Jaron And The Long Road To Love) [ I pray your brakes go out runnin' down a hill, I pray a flower pot falls from a window sill and knocks you in the head like I'd like to. ]

but all the scars they prove that i fought my way through so, i always keep 'em showing | senior year of hs (‘19-‘20)

finally, the point in the timeline where zander is actually getting roleplayed by me. includes summer camp fun too

The Silence (Bastille) [ Tell me a piece of your history that you've never said out loud. Pull the rug beneath my feet, and shake me to the ground. ] // Stand Up (The Cab) [ Yeah, all of my demons are kicking and screaming but I'll never leave them behind. Yeah, maybe I'm crazy but don't try to save me, 'cause I've never felt so alive. ] // Only One (The Score) [ Tell me how it feels to know I'm not a puppet under control. I cut the strings a long time ago. ]

running from the devil, but the devil takes hold | fall & winter 2020:

a new school year, increased disdain for his father, a certain set of posters, and the start of realizing there may be something wrong with him.

Gold (Imagine Dragons) [ But now you can't tell the false from the real. Who can you trust? When everything you touch turns to gold. ] // Just Like You (Three Days Grace) [ You thought you were standing beside me, you were only in my way. You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you. ] // Bad Blood (Bastille) [ All this bad blood here, won't you let it dry? It's been cold for years, won't you let it lie? ] // Middle Finger (Bohnes) [ But I refuse to let you make me feel like I can't fly. Not only will I soar again, I'll own the fucking sky. ] // American Beauty/American Psycho (Fall Out Boy) [ You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out, and you can kill me, kill me or let God sort 'em out. ] // Homecoming King (Andy Black) [ You're standing there with the homecoming king; turn the silver spoon into a diamond ring. Can he make you disappear without anyone noticing? Yeah, fuck the homecoming king ] // Monster (Imagine Dragons) [ I'm only a man with a candle to guide me, I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me. A monster, a monster, I've turned into a monster. ] // Animal I Have Become (Three Days Grace) [ Somebody help me through this nightmare I can't control myself. Somebody wake me from this nightmare, I can't escape this hell. ] // Gallows (The Score feat. Jamie N Commons) [ Been turning my back on the sun these days, trying to walk the line but I'm losing my way. ]

i'm sifting through the sand, looking for pieces of broken hourglass trying to get it all back but it back together | spring 2021:

continuing to take a good look at his mental health, a desire to improve, and an appreciation for his support circle. additional tws: sex/masturbation mention (All Time Low)

All Time Low (Jon Bellion) [ I've been trying to fix my pride but that shit's broken, that shit's broken. ] // Bishops Knife Trick (Fall Out Boy) [ These are the last blues we're ever gonna have, let's see how deep we get. The glow of the cities below lead us back to the places that we never should have left. ] // Demons (Imagine Dragons) [ They say it's what you make, I say it's up to fate; it's woven in my soul, I need to let you go. Your eyes, they shine so bright, I wanna save that light, I can't escape this now, unless you show me how. ] // I'll Be Good (Jaymes Young) [ I never meant to start a fire, I never meant to make you bleed. I'll be a better man today. ] // The Anchor (Bastille) [ You were the light that is blinding me. You're the anchor that I tie to my brain. 'Cause when it feels when I'm lost at sea, you're the song that I sing again and again. ] // Ungrateful Eyes (Jon Bellion) [ Still lost, still feel depressed like I'm try to find a way in. I'm trying to figure this out, but my God I'm so human. And so I turned to my sister and smiled and asked this question, “all we wanna know is where the stars came from, but do we ever stop to watch them shine?” ] // Rise Up (Imagine Dragons) [ The darkness right in front of me, oh, it's calling out, and I won't walk away. ] // Bless The Broken Road (Rascal Flatts) [ Every long lost dream led me to where you are, others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars, pointing me on my way into your loving arms. This much I know is true, that God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you. ]

[brujoenlafrontera]

hi!!! I’m a puertorriqueño/nicaragüense enby looking into resources for learning bruja stuff, any good place you know to start?

I’ve gotten a couple of asks about this lately, and i’m so happy to know there are more latinos finding their way to the practice, tumblr’s brujeria tag often gives the impression that theres so little of us out there reclaiming our practices but getting asks like these brings me a lot of faith that thats not true :) first and foremost:

GETTING INTO BRUJERIA IS HARD.

it really is. baby brujos like us know that better than anyone- getting started, is often the hardest part of doing anything, and its no different with brujeria. it can feel so overwhelming and feeling lost is natural. from my experience, although i am still a newbie ive been able to find a lot of information out there, here are the best places to find info, sorted by priority:

FAMILY! a little self explanatory, but brujeria at its best is truly is an inherited, familial practice. If you can, before delving into internet resources, definitely connect w your family if you’re able to and ask them for guidance and about their experiences!

Your family is always the best resource over anything you can find online; theres so much misinformation out there or information not relevant to your region and if someone in your family already has established practices, always trust them first

 Do some thinking back to all your cultural traditions, quirks, stories, and superstitions that you’ve  learned from your family across time and never thought too much about- and rediscover them under a new light

KEEP IN MIND: brujeria is NOT a singular , concrete practice w concrete rules in itself, the term blankets a lot of traditions across latam, the caribbean, mexico, but imo its always best to stick with brujeria related to your heritage and where your connection is.

this can be hard for people (like me!) with huge family taboos toward brujeria that make it unsafe to ask around about, and/or limitations in family connections (also like me unfortunately). I personally can really only get the tidbits and stories that my family accidentally slips out when I occasionally see them. i try to write them down as much as possible, but the info i can get is limited... and thats where the following comes in.

ONLINE COMMUNITIES. i.e, youtube, tumblr, instagram brujx communities. notice I haven’t said “internet” in general- the reason why i trust community based social media more than random individual websites you find on google is because, in the case of brujeria and honestly any non-european craft, you’re often gonna find a LOT of white people writing blogs, books, etc about their “spiritual experiences” in latam countries and wrongly/incorrectly taking ATR or indigenous traditions (like with smudging). I know, with social media, although those same white people are also on insta and tumblr, it’s a LOT easier to see the face behind the accounts and differentiate who to trust, who’s legit and has real experience to share, rather than a nameless, faceless, website that is actually some colonizer sharing colonized ideas who thinks theyre on a spiritual journey taking traditions all willy nilly. And the fact that in social media, its much easier to find a lot of good brujas at once bc they tend to follow each other lmao.what ive personally done to find information tho is essentially SCOUR tumblrs, insta accs, and watching tons of youtube videos for posts, accounts, videos, etc, and narrowing down good info from there through , namely:

CHECKING WHO YOUR SOURCE IS!!!

ASKING YOURSELF FROM WHAT EXPERIENCE THEYRE SPEAKING FROM

ALWAYS TAKING EVERYTHING WITH A GRAIN OF SALT

AND STICKING TO INFO FROM CULTURES OPEN AND RELEVANT TO ME.

again, brujería is different depending on where your family is from in latam, and if you have an established connection to indigenous and/or black roots, so it’s useful to use keywords relating to that when searching (like if ur black, you can look into ATRs(african traditional religions) which tend to mix deeply with brujeria, if ur indigenous, finding other people from your tribe is great, and if youre not pursuing your already learned traditions you can think about connecting to them more deeply(altho indigenous traditions are their own thing, sometimes they do mix with brujeria too), and apart from familial roots, if ur catholic/christian and/or want to explore it, saint work/catholic brujeria might be a good fit for you!)  

tumblr: there are a couple of fantastic brujxs on this site with great blogs and resources who have sadly left the site, but i still go through their posts heavily for spells, rituals, scraps of info! etting started w brujería is hard bc there’s really not that much info out there right now, but i compile as many good brujeria posts i find on my acc.

@brujeria-n-bongs great for catholic brujeria, now at @Upliftherbs on instagram

@brujeria-lost @barberwitch @reina-morada @highbrujita

@naomi121406 is by far the most active and informative tumblr resource ive found, shes an afro-indigenous diaguita curandera from argentina so shes also really helpful if ATRs are in your path!

Im not black myself and dont follow ATRs so i don’t really know many good blogs for afrolatine brujxs out there but if anyone would like to tag some in the replies thatd be awesome!

instagram: Ive found that instagram #brujeria tags has a pretty healthy active stream of posts. You’re gonna have to sift through a lot of them to get to the good stuff though- imo a lot of hispanics use the brujería tag not to mean “latine brujería” but just the spanish word for witchcraft, so a lot of white hispanics will put wicca/neo witchcraft in the tag. imo that’s really not something i’m personally interested in bc it’s not true to brujeria’s traditional nature, is very white/eruropean , and that wicca shit basically just got here. its a relatively a recent thing😭 so i try to stick to bruja accounts that aren’t influenced by that.

youtube: The youtube brujería tag is hit or miss? and again, contains a lot of wicca. But there are some good practitioners on there like The Mexican Witch! You just gonna look around, and dont be afraid to click on videos by really really small youtubers; they often are the ones with the most informative and legit things to say!

Everyone’s path as a bruja/o/x (sjdf trying to be inclusive w gendered language is difficult) is different but here are some topics i think are great to look into as a beginner!

ancestors: start at the bottom and figure out who they are, where theyre from, and set up an altar. it’ll help you a lot with figuring out your identity and path as a bruja later on.

setting up a grimoire

divination: tarot is actually what got me into brujeria at first! tarot isnt strictly traditional and is european in itself but its a wonderful tool for connecting to dieties, saints, etc as well as super fun and helps a lot with introspection

ritual abrecaminos, aka road opening spells!

amarres (love spells... proceed with caution)

limpias, mal de ojo

saint work: even if you’re not catholic (im ex catholic), a growing number of us (especially lgbt latines like @/upliftherbs on instagram) are starting to take back and decolonize our view of saints like La Virgen Maria and removing her from the rigid european/colonized interpretation thats been forced into us

candle spells in general (i fucking love candles tbh, cheap, easy, fun, and WORKS)

spiritual colognes, how to cleanse

finally, here are some helpful posts yall should definitely read and think about moving forward!

about using tumblr as a resource

about looking into brujeria as a part-white part latine

bruja psa + about reclaiming lost indiginety

honestly naomi’s entire brujeria tag is great and super informative for beginners and basically holds answers for almost anything at this point

hope this post helps yall out!

EDIT: oh lord now that this is posted the outline format i tried to use is all kinds of fucked up please dont mind the odd numbering lmfao tumbr hates organized formats

[brightingales]

I have a feeling that this fic may be polarizing, but whatever ;)

Written for @happyjarryholidays​ . Prompt:  Green: Nature, Growth, Envy...

Summary: James builds a nursery for Isaac. 

They agree to take things slowly.

It’s for James’s benefit, as much as his own, but Harry can’t help but notice how every meeting between the two of them has been carefully constructed to make Harry feel as comfortable as possible. Their dates are only even held in public places – The Bean, The Hutch, The Dog – with Harry acutely aware of the eyes watching them, waiting to step in should James put so much of a toe out of line. Conversation topics have been selected beforehand and James always seems to be sticking to a safe script of questions to ask Harry. They talk about films (always a shared love, even if their tastes remain wildly different), music, the food, their families… James even asks him about the football season and how well Harry’s team is doing. He’s making a real effort, and it shows.

Harry can’t decide if he’s annoyed or oddly charmed by James’s insistence that they date to a formula. He almost feels like they’re a courting couple in a Restoration romance like in the novels that James hides under the bed. They can’t go anywhere without a chaperone. They can’t stay out past eleven pm. They can’t touch bare skin above the wrist… It’s frustrating, and frankly upsetting, to Harry who genuinely meant it when he said, ‘I want things to go back to the way they were between us.’ But James has always been feet-first when it comes to Harry, and the restraint he is showing now only proves how much he wants to repair the damage he wrought.

So, they date – outside and in the open so that anyone can intervene the moment Harry feels even the slightest bit uncomfortable. He doesn’t. He might be mad, but he doesn’t.

It takes him a few weeks to persuade James to take him back to the flat. James eventually relents but makes a big show of ensuring that either Marnie or Romeo is there. Harry makes an equally big show of saying how much he misses being home and how he wants to be alone with James and how it’s funny that James is being so cautious with him when Harry is a big boy who can make his own decisions.

“It’s not just you though – is it?” James says quietly, hiding his ashamed eyes in his wine glass. 

He’s got a point. There’s Isaac to think of now.

While Harry would never push James into something that he is uncomfortable with, he also knows that James’s self-deprecating nature will probably make him think that he’s made way less progress with his therapist than Harry knows he has. And Harry knows – because he and James talk about it. ‘My therapist says’ is one of those safe topics of conversation, though Harry can see James’s internal wince every time he says it. So, Harry encourages him as best he can without making it seem like he’s pushing too hard to force their relationship back on track. He texts James every day so that he knows Harry is thinking of him. He sends pictures of Isaac being cute so that James feels like part of his life too. He makes sure that James knows that the reason Harry schedules their dates so early in the day is so that they can spend as much of their time together. Each action is a crack in James’s armour, a balm on the wound, a look filled with hope.

Harry has made his choice. It’s James – it will always be James. Now James just needs to make his.

He’s a bit surprised when James asks him around one afternoon. The flat has become their after-date sanctuary and James very rarely asks him to meet there.  

“I’ve got something to show you,” James explains.

Romeo and Marnie are there, of course, but when James leads him through the flat and towards the stairs, they do not follow. Instead, they hold hot mugs of coffee to their lips and smile at him through the steam.

He doesn’t dare hope that James is leading him back to their bedroom – that they’ll finally be able to shut the world out and just be with one another again. But James passes the door and reaches instead for the handle of the spare room.

The first thing Harry notices is the smell of wet paint. The windows are thrown wide open, but the acidic tinge is still lingering in the air. The walls are painted a soothing colour of mint green – the same shade as the walls of the corridor. Green is James’s favourite colour, so this is hardly surprising, but it looks to Harry that he’s just used leftover paint rather than choosing something new. Whatever James has done – it was done in a hurry.

Breathing through the paint fumes, Harry turns his attention to the furniture. If he had any doubts about this room and what its purpose is, they are quickly dispelled.

Taking pride-of-place in the middle of the room is a beautiful, white crib.

Harry’s brain takes a moment to process what is going on around him. In the corner of the room is a large dresser. A baby changing station is set up on top of it and Harry just knows that if he were to open the drawers, he would find many sets of miniature clothes all waiting to be put onto Isaac’s squirmy little body. In another corner, there are shelves of books and small knick-knacks that must have taken ages to collect. And pushed against the side of the room is a big squishy sofa with a soft fleece thrown over.

Harry goes to the crib. Above it hangs a mobile of different brightly coloured shapes. Most of these things that Harry has seen before (indeed the one that hangs over Isaac’s crime in his room at his dad’s place) are quite cheesy and tacky – with smiling cartoon characters made of obnoxiously coloured plastic. But James has managed to find a baby’s mobile that wouldn’t look out of place in one of those modern art galleries that James was always threatening to take him to. It looks like the sort of thing a parent who expects their child to become an architect would buy. Harry wonders if James had a similar motive when he bought it and his heart leaps at the idea that James might have thought about Isaac’s future and his own place in it.

Obviously, he has. Why else would he have made this nursery?

While the mobile is structural and classy, there is one cartoon animal to be found. Tucked inside the crib is a cuddly-toy lemur.

James must see Harry staring at it because he nervously coughs and says, “I remember you saying that some baby lemurs had been born at Chester zoon. I had planned to take you to go and see them on a weekend out, but then, everything happened… and I…”

He steps forward from where he’s been standing aside letting Harry explore the room, and fishes the toy out of the crib, holding it against his chest. The gesture makes James look so small and lost and vulnerable that Harry doesn’t know how he could ever have doubted his love for this man.

“I thought,” James continues, “that Isaac might inherit your love for small primates. I went up to the zoo on my own, and got this for him from the gift-shop.”

“James, this is… I don’t know what to say…” Harry can’t quite get his voice above a whisper.

“You don’t like it?”

“No. James, I love it!”

Looking at the way James is clutching the toy lemur to his chest makes him feel oddly envious. He wants to be the one that James is holding like that. So, he carefully takes the toy from him, takes James’s hands, and winds them around his own waist. More than anything that has happened today, standing here in a nursery that the man he loves has built for his son, finally being back in James’s arms is the thing that makes him feel most at home.

There’s so much to talk about, so after a few moments of simply standing together, swaying slightly with the force of their own heartbeats, Harry manoeuvres them so that they sink down onto the comfy sofa. Except, after a moment or two, Harry realises that it’s not quite as comfortable as he had expected. He sifts around a bit trying to find a position where he can both wrap himself around James and not have part of the sofa sticking into his back.

James notices his discomfort; “Sofa-beds are never as comfortable as the real thing; I’m sorry.”

“This is a sofa-bed?”

It’s James’s turn to shit around now, turning himself so that he can look Harry directly in the eye.

“I know I destroyed any trust that there was between us. And I still can’t quite believe that you’re willing to give us another chance. I don’t want you to ever feel like you are unsafe with me, but I know I have no right to ask you to trust me like that again. So, the sofa bed is here. If you want to stay over then you have this place, this space, just for you. And Isaac of course.”

Harry chooses his next words carefully.

“I know that you don’t think that you have made enough progress. But I can already see just how much you have grown.” He cups James’s face in his palms. “You’ve made space for me and Isaac in your life and you’ve tried so hard to make sure that we’re both comfortable and safe. I love you, James.”

“I love you too,” James replies. “I just don’t know if I can trust myself again.”

“That’s ok – I’ve got enough trust for the both of us. For the three of us, even.”

He leans up slightly so that he can press a small kiss to James’s lips. When he pulls back, James’s green eyes shine with tears. And underneath that – hope.

[nookishposts]

The Universal Truth

I have been slowly, layer by layer, peeling away my own haz mat suit. I worked hard putting on all of that armour damn it, only to discover that to learn anything at all, I had to undo all of the rusted-shut seams and take the thing off. In doing so, I’ve come face to face with the terror of having absolutely nothing between me and the real world. Yikes. 

Brene Brown maintains that mid-life is an unravelling and what must take the place of that armour is curiosity. Fine, I get that. But the blue plate special of curiosity, (served at 5pm each day now that we are older,) comes with a generous side-dish of potentially paralysing “what-if?”. It’s the odd-looking potato salad we didn’t ask for, next to the fresh juicy burger we’ve been craving. How long has it been sitting in the fridge? What if it’s bad, the mayo is off, it’s made of yesterday’s mashed potatoes dressed up to look legit? It has the potential to spoil the whole meal, so perhaps its best to just avoid it altogether.  Unless.., what if I am missing the best potato salad ever?

If I am honest, I have been “what-if-ing” my way into safe corners for years already, so what if  “what-if” just doesn’t work anymore? What if “what-if” became something else like: “what now?” or “what’s next?” or “what’s new?”

I have watched my Beloved unravel an entire sock she has just finished knitting because there was something about it she felt she needed do better.  I actually gasped out loud the first time I saw her do it, as all I saw was the hours of beautiful work destroyed in about 3 minutes. She just grinned at me, shrugged her shoulders and explained she wouldn’t be able to wear the sock if it didn’t fit properly, so she would simply try again. The only “knitting” I have ever learned to do resulted in chain-mail; protective, flexible to a point, and awfully  heavy to wear full time. It took years of hyper-vigilance to construct, and will take conscious effort as well as time to unravel. Good grief, what if I am naked underneath ?

I’m 60 this year and just applied for my Canada Pension, early. I don’t know where or if I will even be here at 65 which is the usual time to apply. But, mostly self-employed and living simply, I figure I will take what’s offered now and enjoy whatever little extra it amounts to . Too many of my contemporaries are already gone, and I am determined to enjoy the remaining slope of my journey, whether it’s 5 years or 35 years. The subtle creeping question of how I want to live going forward has accelerated into a cosmic swat upside my head...which includes figuring out how I got here in the first place. Each link of that chain mail costume I’ve worn way too long represents a what-if and a calculated risk. Early trauma in my life led me to do one of two things in almost every situation: armour up in self-defence, or attempt to dance on a tightrope woven from delicate filaments of hope. Both of those involved steely resolve. Neither turned out to be risk-free. It is as possible to die in a cage of your own making as it is to take a leap of faith, and fall. I am terrified of both. But the periods of inertia, when I chose to do nothing at all, to cower quietly until the moment passed were where I think I lost the most.

The armour I built has served me very very well, gotten me through some painful times, held me upright when my knees buckled, allowed me to lend my arm as an escort along someone else’s journey, kept me from burning whenever I was forced to dash through flames. But while I was protected from the fire I was also untouched by other wonderful things, like unconditional love, like spontaneity, like being fully present without expectation. Loop by rusted loop, I find I am undoing the knots of fear in hopes of the spontaneous risks of being fully real. I feel like Pinnochio finally understanding the futility of his own fibs. 

Most of my life has in fact been quite wonderful. But as a small child my body was violated so many times that even now, that is where my emotions will express themselves. In those moments of violation, my mind learned to remove itself, but my body took in all of the pain and the terror and the shame; they grew roots in my belly that spread and strangled and clenched my brow, my jaw, my muscles and my lungs. It is my body that betrays me when something awakens the echoes of terror, and the shame of being publicly vulnerable often keeps me away from opportunities to grow and learn. That indefatigable something in each child that saves them from collapsing despair was in me transformed to rage and stored in my organs, roaring forth in explosive moments of rebellion, retreating to simmer in it’s own vicious juices until the next time. On rare occasions it can still happen, even now.  For many years I have understood this process, intellectually at least. But now at 60, the time has come to speak with that enraged and fearful child, unwrap her from her layers of survivalist gear, bathe her clean in unpolluted waters and hold her gently, not too tight, even as she struggles, until she can safely remember how to forgive herself the most of all.

There is something to be said for the “fake it ‘till you make it” strategy, but as life grows shorter and our time too precious to waste energy in just endurance, our masks grow cumbersome and we tire of wearing them.  We divest ourselves of outworn clothing, outworn ideas, excess tasks and trinkets...why not of the behaviours that served us well and are thankfully no longer critical? If we’ve held our both breath and our tongue in order to be polite, make a living, to get through the milestones of adulthood until now, wouldn’t it be good to free them too? Even knowing that sometime, in spite of our best efforts, shit will still happen anyway.

If we are lucky enough to make it to mid-life and rediscover the luxury of choice, we’ve earned a chance to figure out who we really are. We are not our achievements or our mistakes though they certainly contribute to what is left when we distil them to their simplest form. And with that nugget of purity, what shall we do?

I’ve spent a career in helping to create safe spaces for others; through adjunct social services, recreation, volunteering, human resources, and the respectful body work practices I continue now. I have been subconsciously driven to ensure that I would never cause anyone else to be frightened or feel threatened or unsafe in any way. I would offer  support to the extent of my abilities. We tend to choose ( when we can) those jobs which we ourselves will most benefit from, rarely understanding that until we’ve retired from them. Ergo; I’ve spent many many years finding safety and support myself, through trying to extend it to others. To some degree, it has worked. I’ve had the fortune to have met quite a few folks who think similarly, usually because of how they coped with their own traumas. We are sensitive to those who have not had the luxury of choice and who have become stuck in the endless loop of disappointments, knowing that something is missing but not what or how to find it, and endlessly acting out in the name of survival. No judgements. And at the time of life that our bodies begin to remind us that they are in need of more care, more patience , we are forced to slow down, sift through our bag of tricks, and realise the only person we have ever really fooled is ourselves. Which we often don’t need, or even want, to do anymore.

I liken it in some ways to skinny dipping of a summer’s evening; we arrive at the water’s edge dusty from our labours, weary of the journey, in need of a rest and a respite. Before we can get into the water, we have to look around as we worry about who might be watching...we have to get beyond the self-consciousness of our imperfect bodies, that we have aged, living and gravity have taken over,and we might even smell a little funky under our well-worn public personas. Might  somebody steal our clothes when we aren’t looking thinking they are being helpful and hilarious at the same time? And then there’s the lake (stream/river/ocean/waterfall, your choice) itself? What lies beneath the surface? Is it deep? Is it cold? Do we even remember how to swim? Will we be able to make it back to shore once we take the plunge? 

But there it is, right at our feet....a gorgeous expanse of water, perhaps lit dramatically by a setting sun and a rising moon (insert naked joke here) looking so...tempting. It’s quiet but for the breeze and the night birds. It’s just us and an opportunity. There’s nothing in there that wants anything to do with a skinny-dipping human being, and they will happily keep their distance until we are done. It’s so worth the risk for that luscious feeling of freedom, the unencumbered , gentle sluicing away of effort and cares and worries, bodily buoyed by the power of the water as you move through it however you need to, until it’s time to float on your back and watch the stars come out. And release all the held breaths.

If I have to start with one big toe, get goose pimples in all my hidden places, squeal-ease my way in up to my ankles, then my knees, then the sudden “whooo-mama!” entry of those bits of myself the sun seldom sees, well, gol-durn-it I’m gonna do it. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to teach myself at long last that it can be okay to be carefree, to trust, to float, to get out of my head and look up. I want to be held like a small child learning to swim, and feel the easy, sensual power of my limbs understand how to propel me forward from wonder to wonder. I want to skinny-dip from the soul on out. I don’t care who’s watching.