#but today has not been a good day mood wise

[merspots]

Another reason not to let your cats free roam

TW: Animal injury (but hopefully the cat will be okay)

Well, I just had to rescue one of my neighbors' cats from dangling from a fence by her back leg :/ I don't know how long she had been stuck there, but hopefully not too long, and she's with her owners now so will be getting checked by a vet.

She was lucky that I seem to have an ear for crying cats, though, because no one else was out looking for her, not even the people in the houses on either side of the fence she was stuck in. I fear what would have happened if I wasn't one to go looking and she was stuck there until who knows when.

Just remember this when you let your cats free roam - it is very easy for them to get injured and for no one to find them until it's too late. So please don't let them if you can.

[epnusika]

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Cruel King Romantic Headcanons

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•] Like his devotion towards his people, the Cruel King tries to do what is and his best for you.

•] Loves to call you Dearest, Love, Lovely. Sometimes uses two of the nicknames in one sentence.

•] Gives the most sweet kisses. He would kiss your forehead, take your hand in his and kiss the back of it with soft murmurs of 'I love you' under his breath. He's absolutely smitten by you.

•] A wise and a kind ruler at heart. Like, have you paid attention to how much his people adore him??? If you had an argument, he's the one who apologizes first, even if you were in the wrong. He's the first one to reach out in hopes to understand and fix the root of the problem.

"Lovely, my love... Please, listen to me. Let us talk things out. I sincerely apologize for my cruel words and for hurting you with them... Please? Tell me what's on your mind."

•] When it comes to love language, he's not one to spoil his partner with pleasantries or anything materialistic. Considering the state that Blackrock is in where food and materials are scarce, he would instead pour everything into spending time with you, even with a busy schedule.

"Dearest, my love... Why don't you accompany my side today? I'd love to hear what you've been up to lately."

•] That... and also acts of service. You lost something? Don't worry, he'll order his guards to find it for you. Craving a certain type of food? Okay! He'll tell the Kitchen Wizard to switch the meal of the day to your liking. Not feeling well? He'll be right by your side immediately and taking care of you. While he's your partner, you don't need to lift a finger.

•] If you're forgetful, he would try to remember the things you might forget or your habit of misplacing items.

"What are you looking for, my love?"

•] While you scratch your head in confusion trying to remember where you placed an item, the Cruel King stared at the very object left behind on a table. He couldn't help but chuckle as he turns you around, guiding you to it before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"Here you are... Is this what you were looking for? Don't forget it next time. Okay, my love?"

•] Nonetheless, if his plans for spending quality time with you is ran over with his busy schedule... just having a glimpse of you around the castle would be enough to put him in a good mood and fuel him for an entire day.

•] Would be the big spoon when it comes to cuddling. He loves to hold you in his arms to feel your warmth against him while the two of you talk about each other's day. He's the listener in the x yapper trope. Sometimes he doesn't understand what you're talking about but that's okay, he just loves listening to your voice as it lulls him to sleep.

•] His fear of the future is actually DOUBLED because of you. No, not in a bad way. He's just so afraid that the fall of Blackrock meant that you're dragged in the mix. He can't afford to waste time or even relax when the voices tell him that in a few years.. all that he's worked hard for, all that he's tried protecting, would vanish when the Icedagger falls into the hands of another.

•] Occasionally, the voices would give him unbearable migraines. His restless brain has been working tirelessly, trying to think of a way to save his people, especially you. He's sitting on his icy throne, hand on the side of his forehead with a furrowed expression. If you're in the room with him, he would reassure you that he's fine but... eventually, he's reaching out a hand to you in an attempt to hold yours for comfort.

"May I? Lovely? Allow me to hold you, even if it's just for a moment..."

•] Please hold his hand :(

•] Doesn't get much sleep because of the voices, along with his duties as the King. So, you would have to drag him to bed in order for him to have rest. Tucking yourselves under the covers, he's out like a light before you can even open your mouth to scold him again. Holding you close, he's savoring the warmth of your body, soothing him from the cold and heavy responsibilities gnawing on his back.

•] Actually developed a habit of daydreaming. He gets quite bored sitting all day in the throne room, not to mention... The voices continuously nag him every day. So, in order to quiet them down and to pass the time, he resorted to daydreaming.

•] He would imagine scenarios in his brain where he hopes that he could do it with you someday. For example, taking you out to town once the catastrophe is over and watching how spring rolls back into Roadtown. Amusing yourselves with greenery and warmth, a stark contrast to the cold climate of the Blackrock mountains.

[savanaclaw1996]

The Lion in the Garden-Leona Kingscholar x Fem! Reader

As you know, today is August 10th, and that also happens to be World Lion Day! And so, we celebrate the day honoring the renowned King of the Beasts, the lion! So here's a little fic to get us all in the mood!

Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,260 words.

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

You just couldn't believe it. One minute you were on your way towards your next class with your friends, and the next, you were suddenly whisked away by an unseen force.

It was just another day at Night Raven College. (Y/n), Ace, Deuce and Grim had just finished ancient history and were moving on to your next class, alchemy science.

The four of you were just talking and walking down the hallway when suddenly, there was a loud commotion and the students before you suddenly started running and yelling in panic.

"Lion! Lion! There's a huge lion in the hall!" one of the students started screaming. You raised an eyebrow, confused. Ace, Deuce and Grim also looked bewildered. "Huh? A lion? In the hallway?" you wondered. That couldn't be right.

But sure enough, as the crowd quickly parted, you saw a giant lion running towards you, Grim, Ace and Deuce. The lion had uber umber-colored fur and its large, shaggy dark chocolate-colored mane shook as it ran.

To see a wild lion running through the hall would definitely scare the living daylights out of anyone who crossed its path, for you, Grim, Ace and Deuce already started screaming in terror and scrambling to get out of its way.

Then the lion suddenly locked eyes with you. Like a deer caught in headlights, you froze. The lion's eyes were the color of summer, a brilliant green, shining like finely polished emeralds.

Before you or anyone else could do anything, the lion suddenly charged towards you at full speed. "Henchman!!" Grim screamed as he tried to reach you, but he was too late. The beast crashed into you and knocked you down to the floor.

"(Y/N)/HENCHMAN!!!" Ace, Deuce and Grim all screamed at the top of their lungs in horror. You, on the other hand, let out a frightened squeal, too shocked to even scream.

The lion had you pinned to the floor, its large frame covering yours. You stared up at the beast, your heart was pounding hard against your chest. Then suddenly, the lion reached down towards you and grabbed your jacket collar in its jaws.

With a yelp, you were suddenly lifted onto its back and the lion took off like a shot, taking you along on its back. All the while, Ace, Deuce and Grim could only watch helplessly and panic fearfully while you were whisked away by the lion.

"WH-WH-WH-WHAT DO WE DO?!?!" Ace shrieked. "I-I-I-I DON'T KNOW!!!" Deuce screamed. "HE'S GONNA EAT HER!!!" Ace wailed. "I'LL NEVER SEE HER AGAIN! SHE'LL NEVER FEED ME AGAIN! HENCHMAN!!!" Grim cried, fat tears rolling down his furry cheeks.

"Silence, puppies!" a voice suddenly demanded, followed by the crack of a whip. The three boys immediately went silent. Walking up towards them was none other than Divus Crewel himself.

Deuce quickly ran towards Crewel. "Crewel-sensei...! We need your help! T-Th-There was a big lion, and it-!" he stammered. but Crewel cut him off. "Yes, I know. There has been an accident in the lab. Kingscholar was caught in the explosion and had transformed into an actual lion." he replied.

"Eh?!!" Ace, Deuce and Grim all exclaimed, gawking at Crewel before he continued, "Despite having transformed into an actual lion, it seems that Kingscholar-san has still somehow maintained his cognition."

"Even so, it still would be wise to create a potion that'll change Kingscholar-san back to his former self. I will be in charge of creating the potion." He then gave the three boys a stern look.

"In the meantime, you puppies will have to keep an eye on Kingscholar-san and (Y/N)-san. Make sure that nothing terrible happens to either of them." Ace, Deuce and Grim all nodded. "Yes, sensei!" they all chorused.

"Good." With that, Crewel went to create the potion while Ace, Deuce and Grim ran down the direction Leona and (Y/N) headed down to. After 5 minutes of searching, they finally arrived at the Botanical Garden.

"Where are they?" Deuce asked as they looked around inside the garden. Grim turned his head and his eyes widened. "Ah, there they are! I see 'em!" he said. Ace, Deuce and Grim all hid behind the bushes as they looked at the scene before them.

(Y/N) was sitting under the shade of a tree in a grassy area with the large lion lying beside you, his large head on your lap. (Y/N) was softly humming a sweet tune as you gently stroked the lion's mane.

The lion then let out a yawn, revealing its large, sharp canines before it turned his head towards your face. He then softly chuffed at you, and you lowered your head towards his snout, rubbing his cheeks affectionately.

"Leona-senpai. You smell so good." (Y/N) cooed as you gave Leona a little smooch on his nose and another kiss on his chin. Ace shuddered at the sight. "Jeez, kissing a lion like that. (Y/N) sure has some guts."

Meanwhile, Grim was fuming that (Y/M) wa being affectionate towards Leona, giving him pets and kisses. He was supposed to be the one getting pets and kisses, darn it! This ISN'T fair! Grim then hopped out from his hiding place and marched towards (Y/N) and Leona.

"Hey! I want pets and kisses, too, y'know?! I'm your boss!" Grim yelled. Ace and Deuce all cringed. "Grim, you idiot! You're supposed to hide!" Deuce hissed.

Leona's ears twitched as he turned to face Grim. Sensing an intruder interrupting their little session, Leona immediately got up and growled at Grim, making him stop in his tracks.

Leona let out a low, rumbling growl at Grim and bared his fangs at him. Grim's fur on his back stood on end as sweat dripped down his forehead and his little paws began to quake with fear. Grim then realized that Leona was still bigger than him, and if he wanted to, he could easily rip him to shreds.

"Leona-senpai, stop!" (Y/N) yelled. "Don't hurt Grim!" Grim then slowly backed away, wisely giving Leona a wide berth. "F-For-Forget it..." he whispered as he quickly ran back toward the bushes where Ace and Deuce are still hiding.

"Whew! Even as a real lion, Leona is still scary as heck, y'know!" Grim exclaimed. Ace just sighed. "Consider yourself lucky that (Y/N) was there to stop him before he turned you into lion chow." he said.

And so, Ace, Deuce and Grim just watched as (Y/N) and Leona just sat under the tree, enjoying each other's company. It wasn't long before Crewel came in with the potion for Leona. Since Leona won't allow anyone except (Y/N) to touch him, (Y/N) had to be the one to give Leona the potion that will change him back.

And so, (Y/N) gave Leona the potion and changed him back into his beastman self. Leona stretched as he yawned. "Well, that was something." he said casually.

(YN) chuckled. "It doesn't surprise me that you'd still be cuddly even as an actual lion, Senpai." you replied. Leona smiled at (Y/N). "Well, now that that's over, I've gotta get back to the potions class". he said.

Before he left, Leona turned to (Y/N). "Meet me in Savanaclaw later, 'kay?" he asked. (Y/N) nodded. "Yeah, sure! See you there." you nodded. Leona smirked. "That's my girl." he said as he and Crewel left.

(Y/N) sighed dreamily. You couldn't wait to spend the rest of the night with your boyfriend, Leona. Whether he's a lion beastman or an actual lion, it hardly matters. What matters is that Leona will always be your Leona, no matter what.

[adore-laur]

GET MINE, GET YOURS

— your ex-boyfriend is a mechanic, and you still jump his bones on occasion ❤️‍🔥

——

2004

Heavy raindrops cascade off the roof of the mechanic shop, its metal shingles mottled with splotches of orange rust. The sight forms tight knots in your stomach as dreary storm clouds loom over the town. You stall outside for another minute, soaked pebbles crunching under the soles of your shoes as you pace near your car. 

After exhaling a quelling breath and rolling your shoulders back, you slowly walk toward the half-closed garage. Harry is running the shop all by himself this afternoon, working gruesome nine-to-fives just about every day of the week. You don't know how he does it, so you try to visit and keep him company once in a while.

Today, however, is different. The brakes on your car have been squeaking incessantly, and you know jack squat about anything car-related, so you had no choice but to ask your ex-boyfriend for help. 

Yes, your ex-boyfriend.

You would honestly rather listen to him drone on about all the intricate parts of an automobile than some wise guy who makes you feel stupid when you confusedly nod along and attempt to ask clarifying questions. Harry is much nicer about it. He simplifies terms for you while your mind drifts away to things much more interesting than the anatomy of axels and tires. For example, Harry's pink lips or the beautiful veins protruding from the backs of his hands.

You've gone to him with car problems before, but you mostly visit to hang out with him. It's never awkward since the breakup was mutual, and you are still on good terms. Plus, you find contentment in the routine of bringing him fast food and talking his ear off while he does the strenuous work. 

And so what if you still fuck him on the down-low?

There's nothing wrong with having no strings attached, especially since he gives you heavenly sexual experiences each and every time. It's not like it's a weekly thing, either. It's just that whenever you cross paths with him, it always ends up with his body hovering over yours and his cross necklace dangling above your bare chest. 

Unfortunately, you're not in the mood for that right now. The stress caused by your shitty car and having to probably pay a hefty amount of cash just to be able to safely drive anywhere has quickly turned your day sour. 

As you duck your head to enter the garage, the smell of rubber and oil instantly permeates your senses. The plug-in air freshener on the wall is doing the absolute bare minimum. Soft bass creeps into your eardrums, and a groovy R&B track plays from Harry's boombox sitting beside his reliable red toolbox. You grin and roll your eyes when you recognize the eminent growl of Christina Aguilera coming through the speakers. You're greeted with a song you'd never expect him to listen to whenever you visit. 

Turning your head to the left, you spot Harry working under a beat-up vintage Cadillac. He's lying down on a roller with his knees bent, metal clinking from whatever he's fixing. The black skinny jeans he's wearing are faded, and he's not wearing any shoes for some risky reason; only white socks cover his feet. 

"Hi, baby." Harry's voice rumbles, jolting you. You've told him to stop calling you that, but it falls on deaf ears every time. 

"How'd you know it was me?" you ask, running your fingertips across a stray wrench. 

He laughs huskily. "I can see your dirty ass sneakers from under here."

Before you can defend your mud-stained shoes, his hands grip the bottom edge of the car as he rolls himself out from underneath, revealing his face decorated with smears of grease and his long hair tied into a bun. It's been two weeks since you saw him last, give or take, and you swear he gets more physically buff each time. His biceps are practically bulging as he wipes beading sweat from his forehead, the sheened muscles filling out his grubby uniform deliciously.

You break away from your lustful trance and nod your head toward his boombox. "Stripped on cassette, huh? You keep on surprising me." 

"Is there a problem?" He slings a soiled rag over his shoulder.

"No, not at all," you reply lightheartedly. "It just isn't really a manly record to fix cars to." 

He teasingly sticks his tongue out and saunters over to you, bending down a bit before wrapping one arm around your waist and lifting you in a firm embrace. His mouth breathes warm air against your neck, and you can smell the spearmint gum he's been chewing.

"Came to visit me?" he murmurs as he gently sets you down, keeping a firm grip on your hip and hooking his middle finger through your belt loop. 

You pout and tell him, "My car is broken." 

He mimics your expression. "Yeah? What happened?" 

"I was driving home from the grocery store, and the brakes started squeaking out of nowhere." 

Harry stops smacking his gum and furrows his eyebrows. "And you drove all the way here without calling me?"

You grimace. "Please don't be mad." 

"You're not supposed to keep driving when your brakes are acting up," he says seriously. "You know better." 

"I didn't want to make you leave work," you reply, fidgeting with your hands. 

He softly tuts while flinging the rag somewhere behind him. "I would've come and gotten you if you had asked." 

You just shrug helplessly and look around the garage, admiring Harry's workspace, which completely encapsulates his personality, even though he shares the space with a coworker most days. Various cassettes are stacked haphazardly on a shelf, ranging from girl groups to classic rock to spa music for meditation purposes. He has an opened bag of organic potato chips on his workbench, the brand he always buys from the gas station just down the road. There's also a shallow pottery bowl in the corner where he puts his rings so they don't touch oil. 

He's a moody motherfucker, but you know all of his soft spots. 

"I'm guessing I'll be spending the entirety of my last paycheck on the repair," you mutter while wandering around, picking up random tools. 

Harry leans back against the car he's working on and crosses his arms. "It'll probably cost around two hundred dollars to replace the brake pad," he says. 

"What the hell?" you say incredulously. "You need to talk to your boss about lowering the prices around here." 

"I am the boss."

"Oh, that's right."

He laughs through his nose. "Negotiate with me about it, then. Convince me to lower the price." 

You stop in your tracks and stare at him, unimpressed with the upper hand he tries to have over you. "Nope. I'm not doing that." 

"Why not?" he asks. "C'mon, I'm bored out of my mind." 

You groan and stride over to stand in front of him. He's so hard to resist. "Fine. Will you please give me a discount?" 

Harry drags out a monotonous hum before plainly saying, "No." 

Standing on your tiptoes, you touch your nose to his and whisper, "Pretty please?" 

He narrows his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering against yours. "You're getting warmer." 

"I'll help you fix my car," you plead, willing to do anything to save a little money. "I'm really good at following instructions." 

"You are, sweetheart, but absolutely not." 

You frown and bury your face in his neck. He's sweaty, yet there's a hint of some pine-scented cologne coming through that drives you insane. "If I let you fuck me," you suggest boldly, leaving a slow kiss near his pulse point, "will you give me a discount?" 

Harry moves his head to look at you straight on, smiling smugly and using his teeth to stretch his gum across the tip of his tongue. "That's more like it." 

"But don't you have a car to fix right now?" you ask, feigning innocence to get under his skin. 

"Baby," he murmurs, "you can't come here and expect me to actually get work done. You're too distracting." 

You pinch his thigh through his jeans. "Stop calling me that." 

"No," he says softly. "You're still my baby." 

"Not anymore." 

"Then no discount for you." 

You scoff and step away from him. "Stop being a jerk, Harry." 

"Letting me fuck you just for a discount, hmm? Is that it?" He raises his eyebrows.

"You know I'd let you fuck me anyway," you admit under your breath. 

The muscles in his jaw twitch. "God, you give me whiplash." 

You get up in his face and say, "Yeah, well, you give me a headache."

His hand quickly reaches out to push the back of your head toward him, messily smearing his lips against yours. "I hate when you're like this," he mumbles into your mouth. "My baby's so stubborn when she doesn't get her way, isn't she?" 

You bite his bottom lip and tug on it before releasing it. "Don't want to be your baby." 

His hand gravitates toward the curve of your ass, squeezing just once. "Then tell me what you want."

"I want to be your brat."

Harry's head tilts as he visibly swallows. "Get on the couch," he orders lowly. "Face down, ass up." 

You grin, pleased to the max, and stroll over to the black leather couch in the back while Harry shuts the garage door for privacy. The screech of the lock makes you wince, and the sound of the pelting rain becomes muffled. The continuous drops on the roof match the speed of your racing heart. 

Placing your forearms on the cold, cracked leather, you bend your knees to get into position and tilt your head so your cheek rests on the cushion. Harry swiftly removes his hairband, his curls messily falling past his shoulders. Next, he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his swallow tattoos and chest hair, both slick with sweat. His cross pendant rests perfectly against his skin as he comes up beside you and leisurely trails his fingers down your spine until they reach the waistband of your low-rise bell bottoms. 

Goosebumps erupt across your arms when his other hand goes to unbutton his skinny jeans. You can see his bulge strain against the tight material, and it makes you squirm impatiently. 

"Sit still," Harry says, pulling down his jeans. His black boxers and thigh tattoo are now directly in front of you. 

You pitifully moan when he crouches and grabs your wrists to place them behind your back. "Not fair," you grumble. 

"Oh, really? It's not fair that I'm about to fuck you." 

"You know what I mean." 

Harry tugs down your pants and underwear in one go, the material bunching at the back of your knees. He then takes his boxers off, placing one knee on the cushion and lining himself up as he grips the top of the couch to stay balanced. 

"Still on birth control?" he asks, planting a quick kiss on your shoulder blade. The cold metal of his necklace against your skin sends an avalanche of chills down the length of your spine. 

You nod, and Harry immediately thrusts into you. You gasp as the burning sensation spreads like wildfire all the way to your thighs, your hands clenching into tight fists as he continuously rocks deep strokes in and out. You whimper with each one, and Harry's hand holds your hair back in a makeshift ponytail to watch every pleasurable change of expression on your face. 

"You good?" He pants while slowing down his thrusts, keeping them long and purposeful. 

"I want to touch you."

His hips pound into your backside. "Yeah? Where do you want to touch me?" 

"Anywhere, just please let me." 

"I didn't know brats begged like whores," he says, tugging your hair. 

You wiggle your fingers behind your back, trying to touch his stomach, but it's to no avail. Harry stops thrusting, his hair hanging over his face as he looks down at you. "Want it that bad?" he says in awe.

You muster up fake tears and nod pathetically to get your way. "Please, daddy." 

It always works like a charm. Harry grunts and instantly pulls out, hastily sitting on the couch with his legs spread and grabbing your waist to make you straddle him. 

You kick off your pants and underwear the rest of the way, along with your shoes, then sink down on his cock, slowly grinding on him with your hands in his hair. You want to touch him everywhere, so you rub your palms down his chest and then hold both of his hands as you arch your back and tilt your head up toward the ceiling rafters. The new position tightens your orgasm more quickly, and the way Harry is desperately moaning with his hands clutching your thighs causes heat to prickle all over your body. 

"Such a pretty brat for me, right?" Harry praises you, kissing along your jaw and down your neck. "Getting your way like you always do." 

"Mm-hmm," you hum, every grind making your stomach rub against his, all sweat and smooth skin. "Only for you." 

He nips love bites along your collarbone. "It fuckin' better be. I don't want you doing this with anyone else." 

"And what if I do?" you ask, the slickness of your arousal sticking to the inside of your thighs. 

Harry opens his mouth with a scoffed moan when you circle your hips. "Th-think I'd die from jealousy." 

The fact that you got him to stutter makes you grind faster until his jaw is clenched and he's clawing scratches on your back. "What's there to be jealous about?" 

"That they get to stuff this tight pussy, and I don't." His eyes roll back as he starts to stimulate your clit with his thumb.

Not only is he a moody motherfucker, but he's a filthy one too. 

"You're doing it right now, though," you say, and Harry nods briskly. "Consider yourself lucky." 

"But I want to be the only one." 

"I know." You suddenly choke out a moan when your orgasm approaches. "I'm gonna come, Harry. Oh, God..."

"Me too," he says, his chest heaving. "Give me a good one, baby." 

You hold onto his shoulders and tense your thighs while you release, Harry stilling as well as his hips jerk to meet yours. You feel him fill you up, and after he runs himself dry, you fall against his body from exhaustion, whining into his neck as the pleasure consumes you. His arms wrap around your waist, bringing you in for a lazy hug while his cock slowly softens inside you. 

The rain pours outside, and the ambiance calms you down while your body relaxes. It reminds you of a time when things were easier, a time without complicated feelings or unresolved issues. 

Harry abruptly begins giggling, his chest raising with each breathy laugh. You join in, but you don't necessarily understand what's so funny. You lift your head to see deep dimples carved into his cheeks and the devastatingly gorgeous crinkles near his eyes. 

Once his laughter dies down, he says, "We just orgasmed at the same time to "Beautiful" by Xtina." 

"No way," you reply, breaking into more giggles. 

Harry starts cackling as the dramatic piano ballad plays from the boombox, possibly the worst song to listen to while having sex. It's so ridiculous that tears form in your eyes and your sides start hurting from laughing so hard. 

"We also just fucked with our socks on," Harry adds, resting his covered feet on the couch and wiggling his toes.

"Sexy." 

"Super sexy. And quite comfortable." 

You smile and glance at his lips, feeling an intense urge to kiss them, but you know you shouldn't. As soft as they look, it would only make things more complicated. Well, besides the fact that you still have sex with him. You're okay with the equal exchange of satisfaction, even though the emotional boundaries seem to blur more and more each time. 

"You can kiss me," Harry whispers. 

You swallow and shake your head, playing with the ends of his curls. "That's not what we do anymore. I get mine, and you get yours, remember? That's it." 

"You let me kiss you earlier," he points out. 

"That was a different kind of kiss." 

He just makes a disappointed face and lifts your hips so he can pull out. He then stands still, holding you with one arm, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he walks over to the boombox. 

"What should we listen to next?" he asks in your ear, delicately pressing a button to remove the black and white cassette. 

You tilt your head sideways and read the names on the stack of cassettes. "Hmm... how about Time and Form: Celestial Meditation? Sounds like the perfect soundtrack for aftercare." 

Harry snorts. "Shut up." 

You laugh and dig your heels into his lower back, wanting to be even closer to his bare skin. The full-fledged urge to kiss him returns again, this time with a bizarre wave of sadness. 

You can't. He's your ex. 

It would cross the line that was never really there in the first place, but it's a faint one, and it still matters. To you, to him, and to the stakes of what you are to each other. Yet you spend days and nights lying in bed, wondering if he'll call you on the old wall phone at the shop and ask you to come over just because. Or when he tells you he missed you when you do show up, hugging you tight and thanking you for lunch. Or when he's glum and sulky to everyone else but you, his face immediately lights up when you step into the room. 

It all means something, but you'll never allow it to become more than that. Just fleeting moments make up for the emptiness you felt when you stopped being romantically involved with him. It quells the ache, but only in real-time. Afterward, you go home to the apartment you live in by yourself, wishing he could follow you there and stay with you like he used to. 

You didn't cry when you broke up with him because you knew there would still be some sort of relationship present, even though it wouldn't involve dating. That's when you both agreed to keep having sex without the strings attached; however, the buried feelings you have always seem to burst into uncontrollable flames when he touches you. You'll never admit it, though, because a purely physical relationship with him is better than not having one at all. 

It'd be a shame to lose the fire where the smoke is. 

——

[nanamis-bigtie]

Round 7: Share Your Fantasies

about, rules & navigation | previous round | alcohol consumption implied in some of the routes

That's the first part of the last phase of your adventure, the last date before you decide whom you're taking to your bed. Choose wisely, even if it may seem impossible.

Remember you vote for a character you don't want to advance further! The character with the biggest number of votes will be eliminated.

Higuruma Hiromi

The cozy and intimate atmosphere under the deck was interrupted by the ship approaching its destination—and then the trip around the island strained the remains of the mood out of you both. It was way too hot for poor Hiromi, too hot even for you, so you focused on surviving instead of chasing the ideas provoked by the drinks in the blue-soaked lounge.

You still found a way to make out with him, even if just for a moment. You were curious how he would act when encouraged by a loose leash and he proved himself to be an attentive and curious kisser. Sloppy and out-of-practice one but catching up in no time and adjusting to you with an ease of a long-term partner, not a casual Tinder date. Impressive, given he was almost boiling alive.

He must have collapsed right after returning to his hotel, so you're not at all surprised that your next date proposal is answered around noon the next day. In a typical manner of his, he jokes around and begs for a more shaded destination with plenty of air conditioning. There's even a selfie, in theory just showing you the effect of merciless sun on him, in fact: a smart, casual way to show a bolder shot of him, in boxers only. He's all natural and it just...suits him so well, this contrast between body hair all on display and the elegance of outfits you've seen on him so far. Similar to the way he wears his fragrance, he knows how to mix all aspects of his physique to bring the best out of everything.

His body hair looks soft, too, and the fact that he's asked for a less exposed date has you a little disappointed. You would love to see more of it, at a pool or at a beach, maybe even sneak a little touch to confirm if your guess is true. But you're not cruel and the restaurant he proposes has all of your attention with the menu. If he has as good hand at choosing food as he has for alcohol and perfumes, you're about to experience a feast.

You arrive and find your booked table first; Hiromi appears shortly after and kisses your cheek for a greeting. It's quick and very soft but quite close to the corner of your lips. He's chosen a different cologne for today and the scent has your attention perked up immediately.

Small talk and appreciation for delicious food occupies the majority of your conversation for a good moment but he's been building the tension in different ways. Slightly rolled up sleeves, accidental touches here and there, his legs looking for contact with yours under the tables, longing stares and voice casually lowered... An attack is just a matter of time.

'It's...quite refreshing to be with a date who's not expecting a strong, dominating lead on my side." He muses, weighing words in his typical way. "You let me breathe and be myself, and I really appreciate it."

"You don't like to dominate?"

Corners of Hiromi's lips twitch but he doesn't smile, instead giving you the most intense of looks you've seen so far, "I don't like taking any role. It's restricting. I like to get the most out of life...and sex. There's so much from the other side of the spectrum I have yet to discover. I would rather focus on that."

Nanami Kento

The kiss was very short and left you craving for more. Much to your disappointment, he didn't kiss you again, not until you finally reached your place and said your goodbyes. Kento stood in place, clearly expecting something or trying to force something out of himself, but just getting stuck instead with a weirdly sad expression. He didn't want to let go of you, you realized after you parted, but couldn't find any excuse to keep you around for longer. Finally, he just dared to steal another kiss, this time giving you a little taste of his tongue, teasingly sliding between your welcoming lips, and retreating before you could pull him into something deeper and longer.

You lay awake through the majority of the night, obsessed with the trembling of his lips you felt before he ran away from you again. How much self-control this clearly starved man has in himself to not cave and press you against the hotel gate? Many in his place would just fuck you right there, taking the best of the hot night, but he remained his reserved, respectful self till the very end.

Oh, it's driving you crazy.

You send him a selfie straight from your bed, jokingly blaming him for the sleepless night. You expect a formal apology, instead he answers almost immediately with a selfie taken in almost the same position. There are tangled sheets, loose clothes, hair let down in disarray, sleepy expression...and undeniable morning wood visible in his shorts, "I couldn't get you out of my mind either. I'm hoping we can meet again soon."

If not for the post-insomnia, you would sprint out of the hotel to still catch him in bed. But you have to face up to the limits of your body, filling your head with fantasies and plans for the other date meanwhile.

This time, you decide to meet in the morning, in the local bakery & cafe place he claimed to be his favorite around here. A good start for the day, to gain energy and build your appetites up for the hours together to come.

You choose yourselves a little cozy table in the corner, away from the queue constantly forming for fresh bread. One bite of your sandwich later you understand why; you've never eaten such delicious bread before. Of course, a friend of a baker and a food lover would recommend only the best places.

Kento watches you with a smile, genuine, the most daring you've seen from him, even dares to brush a crumb out of the corner of your lips and steal it for himself. The repressed urge to kiss him almost whines aloud but you're busy eating to just follow it.

"I already forgot how pleasant a touch of the human body is." He muses as you fight your inner horny demons. "It's been eight— No, ten years since the last time."

You remember he's mentioned it before, "It's... impressive you lasted for so long."

"It's easier when you have something to occupy your life. Like work. And I've never been a very sexual person in the first place." You expect he'll avert his eyes but he looks straight at you now, unshakably. "But lately... It's nothing but a torture, this craving, this... fire. I can't turn my brain off anymore like I used to."

Ryomen Sukuna

He kissed you many more times that day, in his car, in a quaint cafe you stopped at on the way, before the dinner in a viral restaurant in the harbor, and right after, pressing you against the wall and for the first time daring to reach bolder, teaching you how delicious his huge hands feel against your ass. For the last time your lips meet in front of your hotel, even gentler than your first kiss, inviting foretaste of the meeting to come.

You're surprised the night hasn't ended in bed—maybe he was waiting for your proposal all along?—but you're more than sure you're going to see him again very soon.

Indeed, an invitation for another date appears in less than an hour. Followed by a photo that finally crosses out the unspoken rule. In a casual, relaxed and sitting, pose he presents you his cock, resting half-hard in his palm. The direct comparison to the well-known size of his hand leaves you a little breathless, especially with the message that comes right after, "Your little prey play left a great impression on me."

You're tempted to share an equally revealing selfie, but you know him already enough to know that leaving him a little hanging will have a better effect.

You meet the very next day in the late afternoon, in a classy bar in town's center. This time, Sukuna is dressed all black, both his shirt and pants fitting tight, underlining his assets and aggressive aura. It's hard to not stare while knowing what kind of monster hides behind the prominent bulge, even harder to casually sneak a peek when he's observing every twitch of your face, well aware of the effect he has on you. Heat creeps all over your face when he smirks down at you, huge hand tapping the small of your back, inviting you to pass the door he's holding for you, then leading you to one of conveniently isolated tables, providing a crumb of intimacy to customers who wish to not be bothered by the masses. Even the music is duller here, letting you lead a conversation without raising your voices.

He brings you your favorite drink and a generous platter of tapas to snack on, and you're gracious for having something to busy your lips and hands with because Sukuna doesn't make it easy for your self-control. Voice low and raspy, gaze heavy and skimming your assets without a shadow of shame, he talks as casually as if the topic wasn't at all related to your sex lives and his experience with BDSM.

"There aren't many things I haven't tried." He spears an olive with a cocktail stick without taking his eyes off you even for a second. "I had a taste of...the whole spectrum of pleasure, let's phrase it this way, but in the end, following someone's guidance is not a field where I can bloom."

"So, what would you call your field?" He already gave you a good guess but you're curious what kind of games he's going to name when confronted outright. "Let's assume for a moment that I have no limits, what would you like to do with me, then?"

"I would teach you what your real limits are." There's no hesitation on Sukuna's side, the answer comes immediately. "I would make you rediscover what your body is capable of. I would teach you that pain can bring pleasure undreamt of when approached in a traditional way."

Geto Suguru

You just knew the topic of bondage wouldn't die so easily. You didn't head to your hotel immediately, instead choosing to spend the evening in one of the juice parlors on the beach, to wash the taste of coffee down and collect your thoughts after the date. You didn't think twice when opening a text from him—and it was a mistake, you learned as soon as the photo loaded, revealing him in a very suggestive pose. He was wearing nothing but tight leather pants and red rope enveloping his torso with decorative knots, his toned muscles flexed and stressed by the perfect light, and his long hair casually let loose. Before you closed the photo, quickly, worrying someone might have been looking over your shoulder, you noticed his nipples and navel were pierced.

"It was done by a friend and student of mine." Suguru texted you again shortly after. "A perfect example of kinbaku for the beginners. Do you like it?"

You typed a very irritated—and horny—yes and decided to ignore him for the rest of the night. Drastic measures had to be taken, if you wanted to clear your mind. But even without his teasing, the images kept crawling to you, urging you to set up another date, the sooner, the better.

Suguru keeps you waiting, maybe as a little payback for your silence, but eventually reaches out first and proposes meeting at a club, quite a change of vibes in comparison to a very calm and somewhat sophisticated coffee shop, and absolutely not what you've expected from him. You're still eager to go, a night spent on dancing and drinking with a man like him? It could only have a very happy ending, of course you're going.

It's one of those rather fancy ones, you realize once inside, not exclusive but classy enough to have you wondering if you hadn't come a little underdressed. But you're let in without a problem—and so is Suguru, despite wearing a semi-transparent top under his jacket. You can see the outline of his piercings and a shadow of his happy trail, a sight that immediately brings the indecent thoughts back close to the surface. At least there are no ropes in sight—not physically at least because the same can't be said about your racing thoughts.

The way your bodies grind against each other as you dance is only making it more difficult for you. His gentle but commanding hands resting boldly against your middle, hips, once even brushing against your ass, his warm and moist breath at the shell of your ear, his soft and beautiful laughter, his sweet yet very masculine cologne... Suguru doesn't cross the line even once, balancing right on it instead and building the tension within you up so much you feel like exploding any moment now.

You almost mewl when he pulls you close to himself, back against his torso, having you feel his muscles and warmth of his body.

"The way you move... I would love to immortalize every frame of it." He rasps into your ear, a shadow of smirk to it. "You're a masterpiece and the things you do to me and my imagination... Oh, how I would love to do the unspeakable to you..."

[bobgasm]

bleeding love | b.f

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader word count: 2050 warnings: smut, nsfw [18+ only], period sex, menstrual sex, reader has their period, vaginal fingering, p in v, fluff, they’re a mess

summary: in which bob loves you no matter the day of month

author’s note: i hope u guys are filthy other wise this gonna be awkward

oneshot | masterlist

You held the heat pad to your stomach, lying down on the couch while you watched shitty movies and picked all the chocolate out of the pack of trail mix.

Bob had been gone for a week and was due back tomorrow, and of course your period had started two days ago. You’d had the usual cramping leading up to actually getting it, and then the cravings had hit you. So you’d stocked up on a few of your favourite treats, loaded up on painkillers, and toughed out the rest of the work week.

Until the weekend came around and you could slob around the place without a care.

You’d cried yourself to sleep. The painkillers weren’t helping the cramps, and you missed your boyfriend. Your heart ached, the waterworks had started, and they didn’t stop until you were fast asleep. Wearing one of Bob’s tees and hugging his pillow, trying to pretend it was him.

Waking on Sunday morning, your mood was slightly better. Mostly because you knew that Bob would be home just after midday, which meant you could finally cuddle and kiss him instead of his pillow.

The heat pad helped ease some of your discomfort, but not by much. The cramps were the worst part of getting your period, and you’d often be doubled over in the fetal position just for any kind of reprieve from the pain.

Today was one of those days. The painkillers were barely touching the sides, and it was too much admin to try and heat the pad again. So you were curled up in a ball on the couch, unable to even reach for the tv remote to change the channel. Tears burning your eyes and leaving a hot trail down your face. Nose stuffy from the hours spent crying.

You were in pain. You missed Bob. You just wanted to be coddled through the pain. Hell, you wanted the pain to end.

He’d never seen you like this. Your relationship was new, less than three months. The first time you got your period with him, he’d run out to get you supplies. Pads, tampons, painkillers and whatever else he thought would help. He’d come back with two bags worth of goodies because he didn’t want you to be without anything, but also wanted to make sure you were okay.

You’d cried over his generosity, and he’d been a little freaked out by the reaction. Telling you he’d return everything, because apparently that’s what he took your tears to mean.

You’d explained that it was so sweet he’d done all that for you, and that’s why you were crying. But he’d cocked his head and looked at you funny, proclaiming, “do guys not do that for their women when they’re menstruating?”

You’d had to explain that for a lot of men, the concept of a period freaked them the fuck out. Some of your ex boyfriends would avoid you for that entire week, since it meant you could have sex with them.

To which he’d replied, “sure you can. It might get a little messy, but that’s half the fun. Lay a couple towels down and you’re good to go.”

His blasé reaction hadn’t shocked you, not really. But it had stirred a fire burning low in your stomach. Hidden by the painful cramps, but it was there. Lingering. Waiting for him to bring it up again, or even act on it.

You always felt ten times hornier on your period, or whenever you were ovulating. In the past, you’d take care of your needs yourself whenever you were bleeding, since your exes were lesser men and refused to even talk to you during that time. So hearing that your new boyfriend, the one you were falling madly in love with, wasn’t completely grossed out by you during that week every month, caused desire to flow through your body tenfold. The only thing that could satiate it was Bob, and you had no idea how to ask him.

When he came home and found you curled up on the couch, barely able to move, he’d reheated your heating pad and handed you some more painkillers before taking a second to kiss you. Check in on you.

“How you holding up, bug?”

He’d pulled you into his lap and held you as you sobbed, softly rocking you back and forth while his hands rubbed your back or smoothed your hair. Pressing soft kisses to your forehead or readjusting your heat pad when it slipped.

“I missed you so much,” you choked out.

“I missed you too, bug,” he replied softly. “I’m sorry you’re in so much pain. I tried to get back a couple days ago but it just wasn’t in our favour.”

“You did?”

He hummed. “I know you can’t move sometimes when the pain is too much, so you fall behind on taking painkillers or fixing your heat pad. It was killing me knowing you’d probably be curled in a ball crying because it was too much.”

You sobbed harder. Held onto him a little tighter. He was so sweet, and you were so fucking in love with him.

“Hey, I’m here now. Hopefully those painkillers will kick in soon, hm? Then I can get a proper ‘welcome home.’”

“I feel so gross and unsexy right now,” you told him.

“You’re the most sexy, beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he confessed. “I want you all the goddamn time. I’ve told you that before. I want you, now. Like this.”

“I’m on my period, Bobby.”

“I don’t care. I take care of my women, no matter what day of the month it is.”

His mouth was on yours. Hot and hard and dominating. An urgency to his actions. Like this conversation had turned him on. And when you turned to straddle his lap, you felt just how much he was turned on.

Moaning as you tugged his hair, only pausing to take his glasses off before his mouth was on yours again. Tasting and sucking. Claiming.

You were his, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it.

You moved to the bedroom to get a little more comfortable. He laid some towels down on the bed, and you slipped into the bathroom to remove your tampon. Arousal heavy in your stomach as your feet carried you back into the room.

He was quick to strip you naked and lay you down on the bed, mouth sucking and teeth nipping at your neck, collarbones, breasts and hips.

His fingers teased your slick folds as his mouth wrapped around your breast. Your back arching as two fingers delved into your heat, thumb rolling over your swollen clit.

His fingers hooked and brushed over your g-spot, and then his mouth was claiming yours again. Fingers working you up until your orgasm crashed over you and he swallowed your moan.

Your body alight with love and lust. Watching him with hooded eyes as he stripped and rolled a condom down his length. A proud look in his eye whenever he caught sight of you.

Spread out and leaking a mix of arousal and blood.

“So fucking sexy,” he rasped out, groaning as he crawled onto the bed. Resting his weight on top of you, pressing kisses along your jaw. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

You gasped as you felt the tip of his cock nudge against your clit, his lips molded with yours as he gripped his cock and entered you.

“Fuck, Bob,” you moaned.

He chuckled lowly as he lifted your legs and prompted you to wrap them around his waist.

He was in no rush, but your body felt alive. Moaning and gasping as he slowly rocked into you, hands buried in his hair while his forehead rested against yours. Lips barely touching, but when they did it was a short, sweet kiss. He wanted to look into your eyes and enjoy every second of this, because it would be a regular thing if you enjoyed it.

“You feel so fucking good, bug,” he whispered breathily, not wanting to speak any louder for fear it might disrupt the mood. The soft, peaceful love making that was happening that was driving you both fucking wild. “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, Bobby.”

He loved when you called him by his first name in bed. Especially when the sex was soft and unhurried. “Making love” in the traditional definition wasn’t something you two did often, not in the slow, feel-all-the-emotions sense of the term. No. Every time you had sex you considered it love making, but this was different. More intimate.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Bobby.”

“Cum on my cock, bug. Wanna feel your pussy squeezing my cock,” he goaded. He always knew the right things to say to get you there.

“Harder, please. Fuck me harder,” you pleaded, hands sliding down his back and nails digging into his shoulders.

He rocked his hips a little harder. Thrusts feeling deeper. Your high building and building and building until it crashed down all over him. Heels dug into his ass as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, kissing you hard. Biting your bottom lip. Sucking your tongue into his mouth.

“Cum again for me, bug. I know you can. ‘m gonna cum,” he mumbled breathlessly.

You gasped as his thrusts grew a little more frantic. A little more desperate as he sought his own high. Grunting as he dropped his head into your neck. Your body tightened around him. Squeezing him. Your breathy moans hot against his ear. Nails digging into the flesh of his back, providing a little pain that you knew would get him there faster.

“BobBobBob.”

You chanted his name in time to his thrusts. And then you came undone, back arching and legs tightening around his waist. Squeezing him oh so deliciously until he pinned you beneath his weight and his cum spilled into the condom.

“Oh fuck, fuck yes, fucking hell,” he said, barely able to articulate his thoughts.

“That wa–,”

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

You held your breath for as long as you could, frantically blinking back tears. Trying to exhale, albeit shakily, and then he was looking at you and the first tear fell.

“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologised. “It’s too soon. Of course it’s too soon, I just…well, I am. And I couldn’t not tell you. Fuck, don’t cry, bug. I can take it back.”

You laughed through the tears and cupped his face. Legs still wrapped around his waist so he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t take it back,” you begged softly. “I’m just so fucking emotional right now.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, baby. Not at all. I’m in love with you too, Bob.”

“Don’t fucking scare me like that,” he chastised. “I’m balls deep inside you professing my love for you and you start crying. What was I supposed to think?”

“Don’t yell at me.” You sobbed.

“Hey, bug, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Fuck, we’re a mess, aren’t we?”

“I told you I was on my period.”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “I’m sorry, bug. I’m useless at this, okay? I just want to make you happy.”

“I am happy, that’s why I started crying,” you sniffled, wiping at your tears. “Can we just…go have a shower and build a fort to cuddle in and watch movies?”

He smiled softly at you and gave you a sweet kiss. “Of course we can, bug. Why don’t you get started without me and I’ll clean up here before I join you, hm? I’ll let you wash my hair.”

You beamed at him before kissing him again, tongue licking into his mouth. He kissed you back, enjoying the moment a little longer before you unwrapped your legs and let him slip out of you. He scooped you into his arms, making you laugh as he carried you to the bathroom and set you down in the shower.

“What was that for?”

“Because I love you,” he said simply. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry.” He cupped your face tenderly, thumb brushing against your cheek as you smiled at him.

[da-rulah]

I’m super sorry for bothering you and asking for sm writing 😭 but I js have like one..if and when you can , do you think you can write something about the papas pampering and caring for their s/o that’s on their period? I don’t really see much people on here writing abt the papas like caring or pampering their lover 😭 super sorry again!! <3

TMI but I came on my period yesterday and today it's absolutely debilitating so what better time to do this request...

Reader has female anatomy, but can identify as any gender.

Primo

He's an old hand at this. He knows you well enough by now to know it's coming when your mood starts to swing in any direction and you start to complain that your nipples are hurting.

When you're couch-bound on day 1, he waits on your hand and foot and refuses to let you stand. Anything you want, it's yours.

He hand picks flowers for you from his garden every month, and every month, it makes you cry. Stupid fucking hormones.

He runs you a bath with aromatic petals to soak in. He knows the hot water helps soothe the pain of cramps, and it makes him chuckle every time you sink into it and hum an "ahhh, good soup."

He's not a TV kind of guy, never has been. But he'll curl up on the couch with you in his arms and watch whatever trash you want.

Even with his arthritis, his fingers work their magic to relax your shoulders and release the built up tension in them.

Secondo

Listen, Secondo ain't scared of shit. Except your PMS.

He knew when he married you that you were feisty and he always liked that, but no one had warned him when you'd started dating that your PMS turned you into a psychotic cage fighter for two days a month.

By now, he's learnt what you're like and can curb it before it grows.

This usually means allowing you to burrow into his bedsheets and depositing an unhealthy load of snacks into your new cave.

He knows your PMS is calming when you actually reach for him to join you, claiming you need warmth when all you want was him close by.

Not the most affectionate man, but he understands your clinginess and doesn't protest when you curl around him like a monkey to it's mother.

Terzo

The week before your period is his favourite. Because you're absolutely feral.

And it's a damn good indicator of when you're due, so he can prepare as best as possible.

He's incredibly attentive to you and what you need and will unashamedly facetime you from the drugstore to ask which tampons you'll need, cracking wise guy jokes to make you giggle the whole time.

"You need the jumbo, sì? Because Papa is jumbo too, eh?"

He's a moron, but he's your moron.

You want rom coms? He can oblige.

His favourite is 27 Dresses. He weeps every time.

Copia

You were appalled the morning you woke up having bled through your tampon in Copia's bed.

"Amore, per favore, don't fret..." he was so understanding, didn't bat an eye. Just began to run you a bath and gathered the sheets to soak in bicarbonate of soda.

"You're not even a tiny bit grossed out?" "No, 'tis natural, eh? Don't be silly."

Cooks for you. Anything you want, he'll make it from scratch.

He'll ask you to blow him a kiss, catch it, then pretend to put it in what he's cooking. "Makes it sweeter, eh?"

He has a hot water bottle in the shape of a rat for you and you only. He calls it 'Rug rat' because it's flat and feels like a soft rug. You think it's dumb, but it makes you smile every time.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Wait im sorry if like youve talked about this before but what is everyones roles in the fantasy au 👁️👁️ or jobs?

i've just Thought Aloud in bits and pieces but hey. i feel like talking today so i'll put it all in one place with Updated Thinkings

(i like to imagine that they all kinda Quit their initial jobs/lives to go adventuring with each other, either by choice or... not. except Howdy, who's a multitasking king). the Neighborhood party earns their wages by completing jobs/quests, though some of them have minor supplemental ways of adding to the coin collection

Wally, of course, didn't really have much of a Before. he didn't intend on becoming a warlock/wizard - that choice was kinda made for him by the circumstances of his existence. but Wally had to pretend to be a wizard for his own safety, and wizards have a sort of societal expectation to be Helpful and Magical and Wise and Existing For Public Service. so while Wally would have rather just been a painter, he's obligated to be a wizard - that's technically his role/job. within the Neighborhood party, he's a bit of a distance fighter/support! he doesn't really do the whole up-close / physical aspect of battle, though he technically knows how. He casts spells from afar, which tend to be widely benign. artsy little cantrips and inconveniences to make it harder for the enemy to fight. he's also a bit of a bloodhound - illusions don't trick him, he can "see" most magic, and he's really good at getting around unnoticed. if they're stuck somewhere, Wally can probably get them out

Barnaby's "job" before going adventuring with Wally - it started out as just the two of them! - was just working on the farm with Ms. Beagle, where he had been his entire life. Sure he'd sometimes do public performances/acts in town, which would earn him extra coin, but that was more of a paying hobby than anything (a paying hobby he will Continue) in the Neighborhood, he's... uh. their cheerleader? that's not entirely inaccurate! he's not big on combat or effort i'd reckon, so he prefers to just keep morale high. offer background music, funny commentary, jokes to lighten the mood, mediate tensions, etc. if necessary, he makes good backup - he has his illusions of course, and he Does pack a mighty punch if need be! he's also very helpful when retreating - he can grab the smaller party members and run

Wormie is the group mascot <3

Sally was a bit lost before joining the party - i like to think that she was constantly on the move as part of a traveling theater troupe, but she wasn't the star or director. she was just part of the group, uninspired and with a full well of untapped potential. one day she up and left (dramatically) to find her own inspiration/muse & path to stardom, which ended up being several years of wandering until she happened across the budding Neighborhood and went "this! this will be the source of my stories!" as for her role, she's a bit of an everyman. front lines fighter, entertainer, mediator, etc. she views herself as the party "leader", or rather, their Manager. she keeps the party entertained with stories, and bolsters their reputation in the same manner. in a battle she's a bit of a powerhouse - her light magic is useful both in combat and entertainment! she keeps a "book" of the Neighborhood's exploits (she swears it will be edited/published someday) holy shit she's moominpappa, and in their Extended downtime she writes and throws plays inspired by their adventures at their home base (town).

Eddie was still, originally, a mailman. or i suppose in a fantasy setting - a courier! until one day he saw a group of people being attacked by some bandits, managed to fight them off, and immediately got roped into helping rescue the folks' entire town from the bigger group of bandits. then they told others about Eddie's help, they wanted his help too, one thing after another and now he's got a full set of armor, a sword, a shield, and his whole thing is saving people. huh? how did that happen? he was delivering letters a month ago! if i had to give him a title... i'd say he's a Protector! he seems like the type! he always has his fellow adventurer's backs - i bet he has his hands full trying to cover everyone at once. outside of combat, he's still very helpful and does whatever is asked of him / needed. collecting firewood! pitching tents! stirring soup! getting Frank to remove a centipede from camp! in downtime he probably takes small bodyguarding gigs. he also is a minor healer - he took some sorta oath for some sorta god (or virtue) that he can't remember, but he has minor healing/cleansing powers. he's also good at sniffing out evil & dark magic! some would joke that he's the party's guard dog

Frank was raised in a monastery that believes in "using your body to fight for the greater good". this was not his job when they became old enough to actually Act on his training! nah they ran away in his mid teens because they wanted to fight things on his own terms. also they want to study bugs more than anything, which he does! for a long time! then they meet a certain princess, befriends her, and helps her run away. he only joins the Neighborhood because Julie wants to, and it's a good way to travel - read: study more arthropods - and earn coin. fighting is a bonus aspect Frank's role is... front line fighter, bookkeeper, and the Guy Who Knows Things! what monster are they dealing with? what are its strengths/weaknesses? Frank probably knows! can they afford a room or two at an Inn? Frank knows (no, they cannot)! who's throwing themself into direct mortal danger with gusto? it's Frank! no but really, Frank is like their resident nerd who can beat pretty much all of them in hand-to-hand. in downtime he probably has a garden purposefully full of plants that can be left alone for long periods of time... maybe they sell half the things grown for extra coin!

Julie, of course, was a princess! that was her whole job! it was incredibly boring and restricting, so she ran away with the help of a funny nerd. after that her whole life was just "avoid getting recognized while figuring out how to live in a world without the comforts/ease of castle life". i'd think she much prefers her new one! as a role, Julie joins Barn and Sally in the "entertainment category". while they entertain with humor/stories respectively, Julie goes straight for games and activities to fill the lull between action. keep the blood pumping, spirits high, and bonds Solid! camp games, road games, locked-in-a-dungeon games! in combat, she's on the front lines with her oversized sword. i think another fitting role would be "navigator" - she can ask plants for directions! technically Julie is a secret powerhouse. her flora magic is insanely powerful, though she prefers not to use it for several reasons

Poppy, i like to think, did indeed have a bakery. it was well-loved in her community, her staff were wonderful people, and it all burned down in a night due to raiders. luckily for Poppy and her town, Eddie was nearby and got on the case to get rid of their problem - maybe Poppy felt obligated to help in some shape or form, and Eddie wound up inspiring her to learn healing magic. She moved into the town that would become the not-yet-existing Neighborhood's HQ to try and restart her business, but it just wasn't the same, and she had gotten a taste of what it would be like to directly save/heal people Poppy is the party's cook, healer, and ultimate voice of caution! the most she'll do in battle is sprint into danger to drag an injured person to safety for healing - she doesn't have a combative bone in her body i'd guess! does she enjoy being in the Neighborhood? eh... it's stressful and terrifying, but she couldn't live with herself if she let them all brave the wild without an adequate healer OR an adequate cook. i like to think that she saw the state they were traveling in and went "oh no"

Howdy, of course, has his tavern! it's a popular hub for travelers, townsfolk, pretty much anyone and everyone. of course it helps that it's the only tavern in town! the only reason Barnaby managed to convince Howdy to join the Neighborhood on one of their jobs is because Howdy realized that he can widen his net & sell to new people On The Go. finally, a use for that magic backpack collecting dust in his room! Howdy got a taste for adventuring and joins the Neighborhood every once in a while, usually only for shorter jobs - he doesn't want to be away from his tavern for too long his roles are support, professional haggler, sarcastic commentary. he doesn't have a crumb of magic in him, but he's clever! he's learned how to make his own support items - including his fancy revolvers with magical crayonsbullets. Howdy rarely fights, choosing to watch over his pack, dole out items when needed, and listen to Barnaby's running commentary. when it is necessary that he join in on combat, he can usually clear the playing field in a matter of moments. he's skilled with both the revolvers and using his own items - he's a one man four armed army!

Home's job is "keep Wally upright and powered". they prefer to be an observer in all situations, even after their existence becomes common knowledge to the Neighborhood. the most Home will do is nudge Wally in the right direction or alert him to something important. Home's literally just hanging out behind Wally's eyes w/ a bucket of popcorn. unless something happens to his beloved little puppet, in which case Home becomes the biggest baddest bitch around and sends everyone else to the bench

tl;dr: Wally: support fighter, magic geiger counter, escape artist Barnaby: entertainer, backup Wormie: mascot Sally: storyteller, fighter, Manager Eddie: protector, minor healer, "paladin" Frank: bookkeeper, fighter, scholar Julie: activities director, navigator, fighter Poppy: cook, healer, overthinker Howdy: tavernkeeper, inventor, support Home: just keeping an eye out

[mariacrow]

❉ TFP Ratchet x reader ❉

It’s been some time since problems at home were keeping you away from it. You would stay in the base for days, weeks… Sleep on the couch and barely eat. When you wouldn’t go out to get food, Miko, Jack or Raf would bring some of their home cooking or just pick up something on their way to the base. Everyone is concerned for you… Especially Ratchet.

1st person

female reader

angst and fluff

takes place in the TFP base

bad mood, concern, crying, comfort

suggestive relationship between Ratchet and the reader

I overslept today, again… As usual, I couldn’t sleep so I stayed up until 2 or 3 in the morning, I can’t even remember… I was watching TV on the couch or just scrolling through my phone. I woke up at around 11:30am.

“Morning, sleepy head.” Ratchet said, working since early hours. He needs only a couple of hours of stasis to rest and go back to work. Last night he was still up when I went to sleep.

“Good morning…” I said in a groggy voice while going down the stairs, heading to the bathrooms to do my morning routine. Thankfully this base belonged to the military so it has bathrooms.

Bulkhead walked past me, seeing I’m not in the mood for morning talk. Then he approached Ratchet.

“She bunked in here again, huh?” he asked.

“Again.” Ratchet confirmed, sounding more concerned than irritated. Not getting his eyes off the computer and control panel.

“I kinda worry about her man…” Bulkhead said, looking at my direction.

“We all worry.” Ratchet said.

“You know she only talks to you, right? As in talk talk. THE talk.”

“Yes, I know, Bulkhead.” Ratchet sighed, “But this is not something she’d open up so easily about. Now can you let me work in peace? Please.” he wasn’t irritated by Bulk, it was the concern that wouldn’t leave his head keeping him away from concentration.

Bulkhead nodded, “I’ll go on patrol.” he said before he transformed and left the base.

“Very wise.” Ratchet said.

I went back to the little cozy human corner we made, sitting on the couch, checking my phone. No sounds coming from me except yawning.

“You need to eat.” Ratchet said.

“I’m not hungry…”

“Y/N, it is not healthy for your organism.”

“You’re a robot medic, for robots, not humans… If I’m not hungry, I don’t eat.”

Ratchet sighed in irritation, “For Primus’ sake. Bumblebee and Rafael will be here soon with some food and drinks.”

I didn’t respond to that.

“…Y/N. Come here.” he said as he stopped working, looking at me.

I sighed and left my phone, barely getting myself to stand up, dragging my feet to his working area. Leaning against the metal fence, keeping my head bowed. He was right at my eye level but I had no courage to look him in the optics.

“Look at me.” he said calmly, in a quiet and soft manner.

I looked slightly to the side.

“Y/N, look at me. Please…” I’ve never heard him talk like this before…

I finally looked into his optics like a sad puppy.

“What?” was the only word that I could muster.

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong, I can help you.”

“You can’t help me-“

“I can. WE can. You just need to talk to us. I know you find it difficult to open up but now it is time. If you don’t want to talk to them, at least talk to me… I am your guardian.” he interrupted.

“You never wanted to admit you’re my guardian-“

“Well I am!” he interrupted again, he sounded kinda proud. “Perhaps I never wanted to say it in front of others because… I guess I just.. I don’t know…”

That made my heart ache… “It’s okay, Ratchet… I understand…”

“No, no it is not okay. I am here to protect you. I am here for you.”

I’ve never heard him speak like that… It made my face expression soften up. Everything has been piling up lately and this was my breaking point… I hid my face in my hands as I started quietly crying…

“I’m sorry, Ratchet… I’m so sorry… I didn’t want to hide anything from you, I just-…” I sobbed.

He didn’t really know how to react. He isn’t good at this, at comforting. But he could feel his spark ache… He might be a grumpy old medic but he isn’t sparkless…

He carefully picked me up, gently holding me in his servos as he brought me to his chassis. I couldn’t help but cling onto him like a baby koala, hiding in the crook of his neck while quietly sobbing.

“Don’t cry… Please, don’t cry…” he said, gently rubbing my back, “Everything is going to be alright… I’m here for you. All of us are here for you. I’ve heard it’s difficult at home…”

I nodded, “Yeah…” whimpering as I was trying to calm down.

“You can stay here as much as you’d like, sweetheart. You’re more than welcomed.”

I nodded again, clinging onto him harder.

“Shhh… It’s alright… I’m not going anywhere…”

“Th-thank you, Ratchet…” I stuttered due to my unstable breathing.

“But promise me one thing, sweetums.”

“Yeah..? Wh-what is it..?” I looked up at him as he looked down at me, bringing me closer to his face plate.

“Eat and drink. Do not neglect yourself, it is very unhealthy. You already lost weight, I can feel it…” he said while gently drying my eyes with his digit.

I nodded, rubbing my reddish nose. “Yes. I promise.”

“That’s a good girl.” he said as he softly kissed my forehead, scooting some hair away from my face. He made me smile and cheer up.

“Can I stay here while you work…? I mean.. here here…” here in his comforting embrace.

“Naturally.” he said with a warm smile as he held me with one of his servos, continuing to work with the other. I could feel his spark getting warmer which comforted me even more.

+ bonus +

Arcee, Bumblebee and Optimus in the back.

Arcee: …what in the-

Bumblebee: *while holding food* buzz beepboop buzzbuzz beepboopbeep

Optimus: indeed, Bumblebee. I have never seen Ratchet like this before either.

Arcee: well she definitely found his soft spot. Never knew he actually had one.

Optimus: Ratchet might be rough on the edges but inside.. he cares about all of us very deeply. *epic OP speech*

No, I don’t have a father figure, how did you know?

Dividers belong to @cute-sushi-roll , @conanstars 🧡

[jadewolf22]

My Little Brat

Fem!Shapeshifter!Tattooed!Dom!Reader x Sub!Morticia 

Warnings: smut, fingering, eating out, face riding, shape-shifted dick, blood kink, biting kink, degradation, ect… 

Word Count: 2,174 

A/n: I apologize for how bad this story is. This was my first ever Tumblr story on my very first account and I just recently found it saved in an old google doc I had. Figured I'd repost it purely for nostalgic reasons.

You and Morticia had been dating for a few months, ever since you had begun working alongside her as a professor at Nevermore, and the two of you fawned over one another. Every moment the two of you weren't teaching or busy with meetings you were lost in a heated make-out session; or, at least, you normally were. The past week you had been incredibly busy with preparation for finals, though Morticia had done her prep at the beginning of the year. You were working long hours, getting up before the sun and going to sleep well into the night, leaving Morticia feeling neglected and she has finally had enough. Since you were all but blind to her subtle hints she decided to flaunt it a little more openly, hoping you would notice just how desperate she was for you.  

Her little plan began that next morning when she came down to breakfast in a tight, sleeveless, black dress that was a little too short and showed a little too much cleavage. Her pale lips weren't coated in their usual black lipstick, but rather the dark red she only wore when the two of you were alone. You watched her walk through the cafetorium towards the staff table with your head in your hand. 

"This is going to be a very long day . . . " You sighed as Morticia joined you. 

"Good morning, my love." Morticia said cheerfully, planting a soft peck on your cheek before sitting down next to you. 

"What the hell are you wearing?" you growled, glaring at her coldly, forcing yourself to keep your eyes focused on her face rather than her chest. 

"Felt like wearing something a little tighter today," Morticia purred, looking at you with innocent eyes as she took your hand and placed it on her thigh, slowly dragging it upward. 

"No, Tish." you said firmly, pulling your hand away, "Not here; not now." 

"Why not?" Morticia whimpered softly, her lips ghosting over your ear. 

You bit down on your thumb and sighed in agitation. She was pushing every one of your buttons, but you were determined not to snap; at least, not until tonight. 

"Because, Morticia," you growled dangerously, "For one, we are in a cafetorium full of students; it would not be appropriate. For two, I'm not in the mood. I also don't have time right now." 

Morticia made to object but the bell rang, signalling the end of breakfast. You gathered your things swiftly, giving Morticia a quick kiss on the top of her head before rushing off, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the hell Morticia planned to put you through. 

Morticia's plan was as bad, and at times, worse than you had thought. During class she continuously sent you dirty little texts, which you did your best not to think about. She would visit you in between classes, sitting on your desk with her legs spread just a little too far apart; or bending over in front of you, giving you a full view of her chest. Worst, by far, was the video she'd sent you, which you wisely waited to watch until your free period. The two minute video consisted of nothing but Morticia moaning your name and other unholy things while she stroked her clit through her dress, with the text, 

"Wish this was you making me sound like this? Love you, Mon Amour. ;)" 

You could only sigh and grit your teeth. As much as you wanted to stop her antics, you were determined to make her wait until tonight, when you could do whatever you wanted without having to worry about being interrupted. 

Your weekly staff meeting did nothing to help with the matter. You had hoped Morticia would give you a small break and sit across from you as she usually did, but your hopes were crushed when you entered the conference room to find that the only empty seat was right beside Morticia. You were at a loss as to how the rest of the staff had beat you; you knew you'd left with plenty of time. Then, as you were walking towards your seat you caught Morticia and Larissa, your twin sister, exchange smirks and it suddenly made sense. With Larissa helping you knew you were screwed; there was no way you were getting a break today. 

"Hello, love." Morticia whispered, placing her hand on your thigh as she leaned over to plant a kiss on your cheek, "How's your day been?" 

"I suggest you stop, now," you growled in her ear, taking her hand off of you, "Before I am no longer responsible for my actions . . ." 

"No." Morticia whispered with a playful smile. 

"Morticia--!" 

The rest of your sentence was cut off by Larissa as she stood, immediately launching into a long list of things that needed to be done by the end of term. 

You kept a tight grip on Morticia's hand to keep her from touching you, your frustration building as the meeting continued. To counteract your frustration you bit at the tattoos on your fingers and hands, your rings and your nails. all of which were tell-tale signs for the professors, who noted your agitation and did their best to leave you be. Morticia, on the other hand, took these signs as an invitation to continue her antics, your patience fading away by the minute. 

When the meeting ended you rushed back to your classroom, put your phone on silent and stuffed it into one of your desk drawers, where it stayed for the remainder of the day. In between classes you were out wandering the halls, being late to your own class several times; but it was better than the alternative. 

That night you were sitting at your desk in your private quarters, grading papers while Morticia read on the couch, releasing a heavy sigh every now and again to remind you that she was there, and very horny. 

'Just finish these papers.' you thought, burying yourself further into your work to keep you from looking at Morticia, 'Just finish these papers and then you can punish her.' 

This little mantra kept you focused for another hour or so before you realised how quiet the room had become. You looked up from your papers to find Morticia's book laying, open, on the couch and Morticia no longer in the room. 

"Tish?" You called softly. 

No answer. 

"Morticia?" 

This time a response came in the form of a muffled moan coming from your bedroom and you sighed, hoping, for Morticia's sake, that she was not doing what you thought she was doing. 

"Morticia?" you called again in a firmer tone, opening the bedroom door and stopping in your tracks as your preheated blood turned to a boil. Morticia lay on the bed, propped up against the headboard. The hem of her dress had been pulled up to her stomach and you could clearly see her hand moving underneath the fabric of her black lace undergarments. 

"I swear to god, Morticia," you roared the second she looked at you, "If you do not stop I will fuck you so hard you will need a wheelchair for a week!" 

Smirking playfully, Morticia stuck her tongue out at you while simultaneously flipping up her free middle finger, a challenging gleam in her dark eyes. 

"That is it!" 

You stormed towards Morticia, grabbing a pair of handcuffs off a nearby table. You grabbed her arm, causing her to withdraw her hand and whimper at the loss of contact before you yanked her onto her feet. You snapped the cuffs onto her wrists and then roughly guided her to the foot of the bed, hanging her hands above her head and keeping them there with a hook that hung down from the ceiling. 

"You have exhausted my patience . . . and my mercy, you little slut!" you snarled in her ear as you stood behind her, "I am going to use you as my personal cum dump and you will not be cumming once, tonight. Do you understand me, brat?!" 

Morticia whimpered, nodding vigorously. 

"Well, would you look at that," you sneered, taking a cloth strip and tying it over Morticia's mouth, "my little brat can take orders . . ." 

Morticia whimpered again then cried out in pleasured pain as you grabbed her hair, yanking her head back as you bit down on the junction between her neck and her shoulder, breaking the delicate skin, and drawing blood. You moaned as the sharp taste of her blood filled your mouth as you sucked and licked the bite. You did this several more times, drops of blood rolling down Morticia's neck and shoulders which you lapped up, hungrily. 

Once you were satisfied, you moved in front of Morticia, slowly and painfully removing your t-shirt and shorts, drawing a pleading whimper from Morticia. 

"Aw, what's the matter, slut?" you teased, your (E/C) eyes ablaze with anger and lust, "Wish you were the one taking my clothes off?" 

Morticia nodded, moaning as you stepped up to her in nothing but your white lace bra and red silk underwear. Morticia pulled at her restraints, wanting so desperately to run her hands over you, to trace the outline of every one of the tattoos that covered your beautiful body. 

You got down on your knees, slowly lifting up the hem of her dress, exposing her clothed, soaked core. You smirked dangerously, pushing the black fabric aside and latching your lips onto her clit, beginning to suck at it, earning a loud moan from Morticia. You hummed into her core, slowly slipping a finger into her cunt and pumping it in and out of her. Morticia's moans grew louder and so you added another finger, increasing your pace and ferocity. Not longer after you added a third finger, causing Morticia's legs to shake violently, pulling out as you felt her about to cum. Morticia groaned as you pulled away, her body slackening. 

"I told you you wouldn't be cumming tonight, bitch." you sneered, licking her juices off of your fingers and moving behind her. You unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor, tearing off her bra and underwear. 

"We're going to try something new tonight." you hissed, removing your undergarments as you shapeshifted so that you now had a massive cock, "You think you can handle mommy's cock, little brat?" 

Morticia could only whimper, which you took as a 'yes', aligning your cock with her entrance and sliding into her, causing her to squeal as you began pounding into her tight hole. 

"God, Tish--!" you grunted as you thrusted into her, "You're so tight! So, tight for mommy! Such a good slut, taking all of mommy's cock so well!" 

You thrusted into her quickly, going deeper with each thrust. In no time you came, stopping completely when you felt her walls clench around you. Morticia moaned pleadingly, pulling on her restraints as she tried to get loose. You ignored her, pulling out of her ass and moving in front of her, lining your cock up with her cunt and pushing into her, starting the process over again. 

An hour later you had stopped Morticia from coming almost twenty times and finally decided she'd been punished enough. Pulling out of her for the final time, you shifted back and slowly removed Morticia's hands from the hook and untied the cloth, carrying her sex puddle of a body over to the bed. 

"You've been so good, my little brat," you said softly, "Sit on my face, and I'll let you cum." 

Morticia's eyes lit up happily, as you helped her straddle your face. A heavenly moan leapt from Morticia's mouth as your tongue swiped through her folds, lapping her juices from her overused cunt. You snaked one hand up her body and began toying with her breasts while your thumb toyed with her sore clit. 

"Oh, shit--! Mommy!" Morticia cried, tears slipping down her face as you skilfully ate her out, "M-mommy, please! Please, let me cum! Please?!" 

You hummed into her core giving her the permission she'd been longing for. With a final flick of your tongue Morticia came and you hurried to lap up her cum, eating it as if it were your last meal while Morticia screamed your name like a broken record. 

After helping Morticia down from her high, you crawled out from under her, taking her in your arms. She nuzzled her face into your chest, delicately tracing the outlines of the tattoo's on your arms and chest, planting a gentle kiss on the raven tattoo hovering just over your heart while you stroked her matching tattoo; the only one she'd ever gotten. 

"I love you, Tish." you murmured into her hair, "I'm sorry I neglected you this past week. I promise it won't happen again." 

"I love you too, Y/n." Morticia whispered, before falling asleep. 

You sighed and smiled warmly, planting a kiss on the top of her head before closing your eyes and allowing sleep to overtake you.

[ashs-random-writing]

House of oddities

Chapter 1

Ao3

—

Patton, a very optimistic borrower, traveled over a day’s journey that led him to this house. It was pretty far from other ones. It seemed normal enough, even if his new human was very loud, and liked to talk to themself. He didn’t mind. There was more than enough supplies here. Besides, he wasn’t too excited at the idea of making another long journey.

Two local ghosts start keeping a secret from their living friend.

—

Appearance wise, ghosts take on features that represent how they died. Janus died by a snake bite, and has snake scales over the side of the bite. Virgil, though I’m not telling you his cause of death just yet, has a whispy tail instead of legs.

I hope you enjoy this !!

Something was going on with his human, Patton noted. His human seemed more excited than usual, which normally would make Patton happy. However, as this was a new human, he wasn’t too sure what to expect.

Even the most optimistic borrower would be wary. It could be anything, from a vacation (bad for borrowers as it meant heavy rationing) or a ‘pay rise’ (great- human got more things that could be borrowed).

Of course, those weren’t the only options. As much as Patton loved the idea of pets, he knew that he would have to move if his human had gotten one. Well, depending on the pet. Dogs and cats, as cute as they were, were vicious creatures when faced with a borrower. That could also be an option.

He didn’t want to move only two weeks after finding the perfect walls. He sincerely hoped that whatever had caused his human to be so happy was something good.

He watched his human pace around giddily, like they had just won a giant prize. Perhaps they had. He couldn’t help but smile, despite his hesitation as to what could cause this infectious mood.

His human talked to themself a lot. Patton was sure he’d hear about the source of excitement eventually

He waited for his human to go to sleep before he gathered food supplies. It was routine borrowing for him, but he couldn’t help feeling uneasy about something. The human was still sleeping, he could tell that much, so he didn’t know what was causing this unease

He had been feeling similarly since he’d moved in. It was a different kind of unease than when he was at his last house. That unease was feeling like he was going to be seen, this felt like being watched. Like any borrower would feel, Patton felt very off about this whole thing.

He had checked about a thousand times that there were no cameras, before he had ever even left the walls. He should never have been feeling eyes on him.

He shivered. He didn’t know whether it was the fact that he could still feel someone watching him, or the coldness that seemed to radiate from different parts of the house.

He put all his food in his bag, and started running towards his entrance. This house made him feel more exposed than other houses did. He didn’t understand.

His human was still sleeping, he checked after putting away his supplies. He chalked up this unease to the fact that this was still a new house.

There was nothing wrong. He smiled. He sometimes felt the eyes on him when he was in his home in the walls, which was how he knew he was imagining things. There was only him in the walls. There was nothing else.

No sign of any other life in there, not even a single web (thank whatever was out there that was looking out for him) or rats nests anywhere in the walls. The only living things in the house were him, and his human, and occasionally his human’s friends.

They were loud. Patton didn’t like loud noises, but he liked seeing people happy. He organised his supplies and made sure his nest had enough fabrics. Winter was closing in, he would need more.

The fabric was in his human’s bedroom. They were unlikely to wake up whilst he was borrowing. He quickly grabbed the scraps he needed and ran back to his home.

He was tired. He had borrowed a lot today; all that climbing was tiring. He wrapped up as warmly as he could and closed his eyes. The walls were cold, but he was used to it.

If he felt eyes on him as he fell asleep, he ignored them. He woke up to the sound of his human talking. His human was loud. He took a look at the clock outside the wall.

He’d only been sleeping for a few hours, which was probably why he felt so tired. He yawned, but he knew his human would keep being loud, so he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He didn’t mind. His human would go to work, and then Patton would have the quiet, empty house to himself.

He wished there was another borrower nearby. Maybe he wouldn’t be so tired if he could split responsibility between him and a friend. Maybe he’d be less likely to watch the human so constantly.

He took to wandering whilst he waited for his human to leave. Having been a borrower since birth, he was well aware of the challenges and limitations of his life.

He just wished he could live somewhere where he could control the heating and where he could talk to people. He was always optimistic, however.

He’d probably find enough fabric to make himself a warmer outfit and help make his nest a little warmer.

His human had a ton of scrap fabrics lying around

His human was talking to themself. They always acted as though there was someone else there, even when there wasn’t.

This wasn’t the only human who he’d seen do the same. Humans loved giving into their imaginations and talking to themselves. Patton had the urge sometimes, but there was obviously the chance of being discovered if he gave in to the impulse.

He didn’t dwell on the human’s actions, and just focused on keeping himself busy with walking to prevent himself from crying. He was so tired. His human was getting ready to leave. He walked back home.

The sound of a door made it known that he was able to sleep again now, even though the eyes on him came back as he got back home. He wrapped up as best as he could and settled back in his nest.

He smiled, though he felt watched.

He fell asleep for another few hours.

—

Virgil was used to being bored; he was a ghost, there wasn’t much opportunity for him to talk to anyone except the one other ghost of the house, Janus, but they weren’t on the best terms with each other. Not for the past year, anyway.

The past few months had introduced two new living people into his home; Roman, who for some inexplicable reason could see him and Janus, and the newest addition to the house; the tiny person.

They lived in the walls, and scavenged for food or supplies. Virgil watched them a lot. The things they did were dangerous, what would’ve been a mild fall for Virgil would be a fall from tens of feet high for them, and still they climbed it close to daily.

Virgil had never seen anyone like them before. He could tell that they were jumpy, and they didn’t like the idea of people knowing they existed. Virgil never mentioned their existence to the living of the house.

He knew that Janus knew they were there as well. He’d caught Janus watching them more than a few times, but, with as skilled as Virgil and Janus were at avoiding each other, one of them would quickly leave the room to go back to their own.

Perhaps a little bit of hissing between them as the other left, but that was private business. Roman had since stopped trying to make them friends.

Virgil floated around the house, waiting for Roman to wake up. The little guy was sleeping.

Virgil couldn’t feel the cold, but he noticed the shivering and the extra fabric the little guy had been taking. He needed to convince Roman to turn the heating up. Someone that small was bound the feel the cold a lot more than someone human-sized.

Virgil heard when Roman woke up, because, what seemed like immediately, he heard Janus talking to him.

He scowled. Janus just had to ruin everything, didn’t he? He crossed his arms. Did they have to be so loud? He checked on the tiny scavenger

They were sat up, rubbing their eyes with their clearly makeshift glasses still next to their little nest. He frowned, face still through the wall.

Poor thing. Everything must be louder to them. Virgil took his head out of the wall tunnels and started to wait for Janus and Roman to stop talking, so he could talk about his (undoubtedly more important) problem to the person who could help.

Janus talked to Roman the entire time, until the human had left the house. Virgil’s scowl deepened.

He flew over to Janus

“What if I had wanted to talk to him?”

“I’d have no way of knowing that, dearest friend, because you don’t ever talk to me,” he said, scales shifting with Janus’s grin

“Well, my thing was important, and you’ve ruined it,” he hissed out, starting to float away

“Aw, important, was it? Needed another song added to the playlist he made for you? Or, perhaps your little nightlights ran out of battery?” Janus’s mocking voice echoed in his ears, and hell if he wasn’t able to push all of Virgil’s buttons. He wanted to slap that mocking pout straight off of his face

“First of all, they’re fairy lights, not nightlights, but I suppose that, being the baby you are, you’ve probably only ever heard of a nightlight. Second, my thing was actually important. I needed to convince Roman to turn the heating up,”

Janus raised his eyebrow

“Oh, my. I didn’t know that you had suddenly developed an aversion to the cold, that, might I remind you, you can’t feel ,”

“It’s not for me, you-” he took a deep breath that was entirely useless, “It’s for the little guy in the walls and, not that I expect you to care, considering you care for nothing but yourself, but they’ve been shivering non stop lately,”

Janus’s face had a brief moment where the mask fell, before coming back, and he looked down at his nails, which were covered by his gloves

“It’s too bad that you’d never be able to convince Roman. You wouldn’t be able to convince someone that ghosts were real, even if they were looking right at you,”

Virgil glared, clenching his fist

“Well, you do it then, if you’re so good at being convincing,” he snarled out, only for Janus to smile

“Gladly, thank you kindly for the offer,”

Virgil left with clenched fists and the thought that if he could, he’d’ve slammed the door shut.

He hated Janus so bad, he might as well have been in Hell rather than his house.

He floated down to the basement, his room, the only room in the house that Janus could not follow. Janus had never seen the basement as part of the house, and therefore when he died, he was restricted from it.

When Virgil had lived there, he’d chosen the basement to be his bedroom, so, when he died, he was able to go through there and the rest of the house.

Virgil floated above his bed and listened to the playlist that was constantly on loop in his room. He would actually need more songs on it, but he would never admit that in front of Janus.

He scowled, thinking about the snake of a ghost that occupied the upper house. Virgil wished he could kill him a second time.

It was hours later that Roman got home, and once again Janus whisked him away in conversation before Virgil could even greet him

Luckily, however, Janus seemed to be proposing that the heating be turned up. Virgil admitted reluctantly that Janus’ ability to convince people of things was impressive, no matter how much he hated it.

He left his room once he heard Janus and Roman finish their conversation

“Do you have to talk to him so much?” He asked, a sneer on his face

Roman didn’t even look at him before responding

“We’ve gone through this, Virgil. I am friends with both you and Janus. I can’t just not have conversations with one of you to please the other”

Virgil crossed his arms

“Alright, fine. How was your rehearsal?”

Roman went into a long rant about how they’d obviously chosen the lead correctly, as it was him, but that one of his cast mates had been making snide remarks all day, which obviously couldn’t happen

“Alright, I get it, you’re dramatic,” he rolled his eyes

Roman turned to stare at him

“And you’re not? Last week you told me you were going to stay in the basement forever so you would never have to see Janus again!”

Virgil looked away and muttered that he was not being dramatic and never having to see Janus again was the kind of happiness that required no extra dramatics.

“Yeah, okay, so why did you come back up, if you weren’t being over-dramatic when you said that?”

Virgil left the room, totally not dramatically, and checked on the little guy. They were organising things, probably supplies.

They didn’t look as tired anymore. Virgil went back down to his room. He obviously couldn’t let Roman know about the little guy.

Roman was… very excitable. The little guy seemed very skittish, and they seemed to avoid loud noises. It would be best to keep Roman in the dark about this.

—

@a-chilly-pepper @da3dm @betamash

[messandahalf10]

February

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 10675

Summary:

Arthur had been back for about six months. Merlin still finds it hard to believe that it was already half a year ago that the man had crawled out of the lake, soaking wet and disoriented and confused. It had been… a challenge at first, to say the least. Arthur had struggled to come to terms with his new reality, making his behaviour and his moods erratic. When he became overwhelmed, he would lash out. And Merlin, being the only person in the world he knew, took the brunt of it. He did so willingly. If it meant having Arthur back, if it meant he was no longer alone, he was willing to do anything.

OR

One month in the life of Merlin and newly returned Arthur Pendragon.

Excerpt:

It’s just about a half hour later that Arthur comes into view again. He looks decidedly unhappy, a gauze bandage wrapped around his head securely. Merlin feels sick again just looking at it, even though he knows that Arthur is fine. The same nurse from before greets Merlin as he stands and rushes to meet them halfway.

“Your friend is all patched up. The bandage can stay on until tonight and can be taken off then. It’s mostly a formality, really. He needs to take it easy when washing his hair to prevent pulling the stitches out, and we recommend lots of rest. A blow to the head is no light issue. He did not get a concussion at all, but it’s still best to take it easy for the next couple of days.” She tells Merlin. Merlin can see Arthur roll his eyes, irritation written all over his features. Merlin ignores him.

“Okay. Thank you.” Merlin replies.

“You’re welcome.” She replies. She hands an envelope over to Merlin. “Here are some basic aftercare instructions. Have a good rest of your day, gentlemen.”

With that, she turns and strides away. Merlin watches her go for a moment before turning to Arthur. The blond opens his mouth, but Merlin just holds up a hand, prematurely silencing him. Arthur wisely snaps his mouth closed, falling into step beside the brunet as Merlin leads them back to the entrance and out into the frigid winter temperatures beyond the doors again. Merlin doesn't speak until they are in the car and it has coughed to life again.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, Arthur.” His voice is quiet but firm. He stares out the windshield, refusing to look over at Arthur again just yet. Now that the adrenaline has worn off for him as well, the guilt has settled in, the anger at himself for not protecting Arthur well enough, both today and back then, has settled in. It is hot and heavy and insistent in his gut.

‘I love you.’ He wants to say again, bites the words back and swallows them down for what feels like the thousandth time since Arthur came back. ‘I love you, and I can’t lose you again. It would break me.’

Very softly, Arthur replies, “I promise to be more careful in the future, Merlin.”

Merlin nods resolutely once, then he is shifting his car into reverse and backing out of his parking space. The drive back home is silent and Merlin’s knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel tightly all the way home.

[the---hermit]

A few more pictures from my trip including the beloved allosaurus.

05|07|2023

As I mentioned in the past weeked I went on a small trip, which went way better than expecting. I was very nervous since my anxiety has been kicking my ass in the past few months, but I managed to have fun anyway. It was a nice break from the routine, but I am not going to lie in the past few days I haven't been in the best mood. I have yet to fully understan why. I feel like I am on an emotional rollacoaster once again, and it's getting tiring. I am not as miserable as I was a few months ago, but I feel like I am not at my best and I would like that to change. I am still in a non-studying mode, and honestly I don't know yet when I'll start working for my next exam. I am pretty sure I will end up taking that in November instead of September, because even though I am not doing much I am perpetually tired, and I want to enjoy my summer, even if that means taking an exam a bit later. I am doing my best to keep down my sense of guilt for not being productive study-wise.

The plan is to have a chill hobbit summer, which means finding joy in the small things, lots of reading, and spending as much time as I can in my garden. Earlier I decided I would order a few books that have been on my radar in the past while as a gift to myself for my birthday. They won't be here in time for it, but since it's notoriously a day of the year I do not enjoy at all, and this year it very much seems like it won't differ from the past, this is my small act of self love.

Today's productivity and self care acts:

read first thing in the morning

lots of good music in the background

worked on a creative project

cleaned my herb garden from the weeds that grow around them, and made sure there weren't slugs eating my beloved plants

ate the first raspberry off my tiny plant (I was considering getting an additional raspberry plant, but I guess I'll be doing that next year)

worked on a couple of tumblr posts and answered asks

ordered a couple ofbnew books

Irish review on duolingo

French review on duolingo (yep I decided to finally pick back up French)

📖: Maus II by Art Spiegelman

[roseflowerthorns]

4lb down in 3 weeks ☺️👌

I'm just at such a good place atm with losing weight, I realised yesterday I haven't been depressed in a long while now! Just the same everyday pretty much, happy ☺️ last year I suffered with extremely bad mental health, so much so I self referred myself to therapy, it was due to my mother, lack of purpose, failing relationship, money problems, binge eating, ptsd, stress was triggering major flares with my sps, which was then affecting my mood even further. I was also binge eating soy (allergic) and dairy (intolerant) daily, which also affected my moods drastically.

But.. All this has changed, I cut my narc mother out, I got an amazing opportunity, I ended the relationship I was in, money wise financially I'm good, healed my relationship with food, and in turn becuase I've had no stress, I've had a lot less flare ups! I cut out soy completely, and now I carry extra strong lacto tablets everywhere haha :)

Being so depressed really affected my weight over the past few years, because I just stopped caring about myself entirely, but things got better, life gets better! This time last year I seriously didn't want to be here, waking up everyday tired, feeling worthless, dragging myself through everyday, the only thing keeping me going really was my toddler. I literally would just go to bed to shut off everyday as soon as I could, going through the motions of life.

Today I'm booking a milkshake making class for my toddler and me, energeric, happy listening to 80s music haha as I be everyday these days haha ☺️🥰

Which is why my weight doesn't phase me right now in a sense of, I know I will lose the weight ive gained, it isn't even a doubt in my head this year, because I'm happy. I don't even blame myself for gaining as much as I did, over the past few years. Depression will seriously kick your ass. I feel nothing but empathy for the past version of me, that woman went through hell and back over the years with everything that's happened 🙂‍↕️

But she's getting herself back now 🙂‍↕️😌☺️

[domoz]

Founders have me writing like crazy it seems. Another fic, cw for child abuse in this one. It gets nasty.

It's a beautiful spring evening when Hashirama decides that he needs to kill his father.

When his legs give out for the fifth time, Hashirama isn't able to force himself up again.

To say chichiue had been unhappy with what had happened at the Naka River would be an understatement. Hashirama had kept his head bowed through a long, long lecture, insisted over and over that he hadn't known because ignorance might be the only thing that could save him.

Punishment has been brutal, regardless. He's been taking his smaller than usual meals alone in his room, and even those have been more sparse than usual, because every waking has been consumed with ceaseless training.

"When you see that boy on the battlefield, you'll kill him."

Hashirama shudders and turns his face into the dirt. He won't, and that will probably end up worse for him than this, but that still isn't enough to make him willing to do it.

(Madara was like him. Madara wanted peace. Peace could mean that no one would be forced to do something like this ever again).

For the moment, though, Hashirama can't get his legs to cooperate. Today he'd been training his mokuton ('until you have enough wood to rebuild the whole compound twice over'), and he'd tried, he always tries, but he's never, not in his life, been this low on chakra before. The lack of it makes him feel dizzy and nauseous and cold, seems to amplify all the aches and pains of the last few days. He'd pulled a splinter out of his hand earlier and the spot has been aching and stinging for hours when normally he would have forgotten about it minutes after it happened.

He's exhausted and miserable, and his eyes are burning with unshed tears because letting them fall will mean he probably doesn’t even get to eat tonight. He's already going to be in trouble enough for falling again--

"Boy, you better not be taking a break." Butsuma's voice calls, far away as first but getting louder, "You're not even halfway done."

Hashirama's voice catches in his parched throat -- he's got no idea whether it'll be safer for him to admit the truth or make an excuse. Before he can decide, his brother's voice chimes in, and oh he hadn't even known Tobirama was here.

"Chichiue, he's low on chakra." It's said so matter-of-fact that Hashirama can't tell if he's being judged for it or not. But he's really not the happiest with Tobirama right now and in a poor mood anyways so all he feels at the comment Is a spike of anger harsh enough to send the tears he's been hold back spilling down his cheeks.

Why did you have to tell him that? Why do you keep ruining things?

Butsuma clicks his tongue.

"Shameful. But low chakra is not a reason for him to be on his back. Or crying."

Hashirama can only see the purpling sky, but he can hear the sneer in his father's voice.

"I just don't know what to do with you, boy. Maybe a real punishment is in order. To start with, no meals until you're done with this."

Hashirama stifles a sob. Fuck, but he's hungry. There's a heavy sigh from his father, but it's Tobirama's voice he hears next.

"Chichiue, is that… Wise?"

There is a heavy pause; Hashirama musters the strength to lift his head and is treated to a sight he wishes wasn't familiar. Tobirama's thin back is between him and Butsuma. His arms are crossed this time, but Hashirama knows his intent. His little brother trying to protect him, again.

This is your fault in the first place! A wounded part of his heart screams, but already he feels guilty for the thought.

(How was Tobirama to know who he'd been meeting? How was he to do anything but worry when his brother kept disappearing so soon after their last one had died? How was he to say no to an order?)

"It's just --" Tobirama's voice is uncharacteristically hesitant, "Harsh training is well and good, but if he's not able to recover his strength then he won't be able to act should an emergency happen. Right now, he'd be useless in a battle."

There is a weighty silence, one that stretches on long enough that it makes Hashirama's heart flutter with hope -- maybe Tobirama's words have managed to convince him, again.

"I have no intention of letting him go to battle until I'm sure he's learned his lesson." Another pause, and then "…You're more troublesome than you let on, boy."

Those words aren't meant for Hashirama. Tobirama stiffens just enough to be perceptible, and if Hashirama can see it in the state that he's in, there's no way that Butsuma missed it.

"That's what I thought. Tobirama, on your knees. I think you both need to understand something."

Tobirama hesitates for the barest moment before sinking down. He knows better than to protest in this situation. Hashirama struggles to roll over enough to see what is happening. To see how Butsuma has knelt down across from Tobirama to grab his chin in a bruising grip, how Tobirama's hands are fisted tight in the fabric of his pants.

"When I teach you that shinobi aren't to show emotions, what I mean is that they can't let their feelings affect their decisions." He forces Tobirama's face to turn, to meet Hashirama's wide eyes with his own, "But if you had taken that lesson to heart you would have seen how much better off your brother would be if he understood. You may hide what you feel, but I can see now how much you let those feelings rule you. You'd rather spare your brother pain than have him grow stronger and survive."

Butsuma reaches for a pouch and, and with his other hand he draws out a kunai. Tobirama doesn't struggle as it's pushed to his cheek, but instead goes very, very still. Hashirama's stomach swoops -- he wouldn't, he wouldn't--

"And you, Hashirama… I don't know what to do about that bleeding heart of yours. But you need to understand, if you're going to open yourself up to whatever poor kid with a sob story you meet in the woods you need to be strong enough to make certain that it can't hurt you."

He squeezes Tobirama's face, applies pressure. The kunai bites deep into his brother's cheek. Tobirama jerks in his hold and lets out an awful, warbled whine before cutting himself off.

"Stop." Begs Hashirama, voice breaking, He tries to push himself up only for his arms to give out from under him, "Stop it. Stop it!"

"If you want it to stop --" Says Butsuma, forcing Tobirama's face to turn the other direction and digging the kunai in to the other side, perfectly matching the first cut. "-- Then stop me. Get strong enough to stop me."

But Hashirama can't stand up. There's no sudden burst of strength -- he used that up ages ago. All he can manage is to drag himself a few inches forward through the dirt, fingers just able to reach where a spot of blood (his brother's blood!) has been flung to the ground.

"Please." His voice is hoarse, "Please, I understand. Please stop."

The look Butsuma levels at him is cold, a frown that says he doesn't believe him.

He tilts up Tobirama's head, cuts a final slash into his chin, before letting go. Standing up, stepping back, uncaring of the way his son has dropped to the ground like a puppet with it's strings cut.

"Guard your heart or grow strong enough to keep it safe, Hashirama. Those are your options."

He turns, leaves them alone on the training field under a rapidly darkening sky. It's only when he's out of sight that Hashirama feels sensation return to his limbs, feels just how hard his heart is pounding. Hears the near silent drip of blood onto the ground from Tobirama --

His breath hitches but he can't lose his head yet, his brother, his last baby brother, still hasn't moved.

"Tobi." He calls roughly, but there's still no reaction, "Tobi. Tobirama!"

When he finally pulls himself close enough, he reaches for his brother's hand, ignores the way it's trembling and sticky with blood (so much blood but it's fine, Tobirama has to be fine, head wounds just bleed more than most--). Only when he touches Tobirama does his brother react. Jerks away from him -- finally looks at him, but it's with eyes that are completely empty.

"We can't." Tobirama's voice is quiet. It cracks, but his little brother does not cry, even now, "He's waiting to see what we'll do."

Waiting to see if they'll turn to each other, he means.

"Tobi…" He calls, as Tobirama mechanically pushes himself to his feet, pulls his hand away. He wants to do something, needs to do something, to make this even a little okay, but he knows Tobirama is right, that if they try to help each other now the lesson will only repeat itself.

Tobirama shakes his head, walks towards the main house with his head ducked low, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

And Hashirama still can't force himself onto his feet to follow.

He falls back onto the dirt, throat tight. A few more tears spill out, but not many. He doesn't have anything left in him to cry.

He feels -- empty. He thinks he should be feeling more but all that's left behind his breastbone is hollow. And if he feels like this, than Tobirama must be…

He broke something, Hashirama thinks hysterically, He broke something in me and I think he might have broken Tobirama, too.

There's a bile building in the back of his throat as the realizations hit him. He can't let that happen again, won't survive if it does.

If you want to stop me, then stop me. Get strong enough to stop me.

That had been the lesson. Maybe Hashirama can finally learn this one.

The determination to build peace and a village had made him feel warm. The determination to do this settles like lead in his guts.

If any of his dreams are going to happen, he needs to get strong enough to stop his father.

[bellaxgiornata]

So currently I am planning to update FFTD a little bit from now as long as nothing major comes up news-wise about my mom. I managed to edit the next installment enough when I was in the mood for a distraction last night.

For those who don't know, I'm a stay at home mom. So when my kid naps, I can't exactly go visit my mom in the hospital. And my son is too crazy for me to bring him with to visit her during the day, which means working on FFTD has once again become a useful and welcome distraction for me. So please don't think that I'm feeling pressured to update with what's going on because if I mentally am not able to, I won't. And I absolutely appreciate all of you wonderful readers who are so understanding about that and have been sending my mom good vibes ❤️

For anyone curious, my mom has been in stage 3 renal failure for a few years. She has had no energy for the last couple of days (literally just sleeping) and early Sunday morning she passed out three times in a matter of hours, hitting her head each time when she fell. Thankfully her brain seems okay even though she's covered in cuts, but she can't quite walk and the hospital is keeping her until she can (who knows how long that is). They haven't figured out quite yet what is going on with her, just steadily ruling things out. I'm hoping today we get answers and a solution.

Thank you all for being so understanding! Honestly my brain goes from wanting to zone out to wanting to immerse myself in working on FFTD apparently while I'm waiting for news. So just a heads-up that my updates are not going to be predictable this week. We may have few updates or we may have a lot if I really am distracting myself. But just know I am not feeling pressured by you all and I really, really appreciate that! ❤️