#but when he gets his body back there's SO MANY NEW ONES and he has no idea if it's from konoha's misadventures or whatever the fuck saeru

[shes2real]

The Bloodline dating shy!reader — Headcannon ♡

୨୧ roman loves his shy girl! he’s so tender and affectionate with you, he has so many nicknames that suits ur shy personality. they range from “sweetheart”, “beautiful,” and his favorite, “my sweet girl ”. his patience has no boundaries as he encourages you to take things at your pace! while you two were attending a low-key event, you held onto his hand tightly. sensing your nervousness, roman pulled you close, and reassured you, "it’s okay, sweet girl. you’re safe with me."

୨୧ he loves rough sex but when it comes to you, he knows that you’re always in for the ride (no pun intended) even when it’s hard for you to verbally express what you want. he loves to communicate with you by using ur safewords. you love it when he uses ur throat, it makes you so wet happy! his hands gently removed your mouth off his dick as he looked at you, “what color, baby? you okay?” your eyes fluttered with satisfaction. “green,” you said hoarsely, smiling at him before taking him back into your mouth.

୨୧ his love language is physical touch. he’s always touching you whether it’s hugs, tender kisses, or he’s simply rubbing you through ur panties to help you sleep. he knows that you need it but truthfully, he needs it too…it has built a strong bond between you guys. the comfort and reassurance of his gentle touches always makes you feel so much better <3

୨୧ jimmy is such a goofball and he’ll do anything to make you smile! there’s never a dull moment with him, especially when he sees you dressing up. you’ve always been so shy to dress up around him, even though he’s seen every ounce of your body. but that never stops him from hyping you up. he leans against the door frame, his eyes lighting up as he sees you, “damn! you look good asf!,” he gives you a twirl while he grins mischievously, “got me ready to take you down right here, girl!”

୨୧ he loves any position where he can watch your love faces, which you have a love/hate relationship with. as he’s sinking deeper inside of you, stretching you out, he watches you with admiration. you quickly cover your mouth, causing him to remove your hand, “don’t hide them pretty sounds from me, baby.” but hours later he’s mocking ur moans as u playfully hit him, “stooppp!”

୨୧ jimmy’s love language is acts of service. especially when you find it extremely hard to order your own food while you two are out on dates. even though you’ve rehearsed it a million times, you’ll stumble on ur words or forget what you want to order! but jimmy eagerly steps in, not just ordering for you, but making sure it's exactly what you want, ensuring your meal is as perfect as you are to him. even when life gets tough, he's your unwavering support. whether you need a listening ear or a comforting embrace, he’s there, ready to wrap you in his arms, and whispering his favorite line, "we like bonnie and clyde, boo! i gotcho' back!" but it’s not just a line; it's his promise to always be by your side, through thick and thin! <3

୨୧ jey is extremely family oriented. if he’s not yelling “yeet” every five minutes, he’s spending time with his large family. as you’re surrounded by his family, you feel a pang of anxiety. just when you start to feel overwhelmed, he leans in close and places a gentle hand on ur thigh as he whispers softly, "you don't have to be anyone but yourself with me, i promise." as time passes, you find urself interacting with a few of his cousins! with jey’s support, you’re always accomplishing something new <3

୨୧ “want you to choke me,” you mewled as jey fucked you. there was no reason for you to be so shy, his nasty ass is with whatever you’re with! he smirked as one hand squeezed your throat while the other teased your clit. your eyes rolled as he thrusted into you while toying with ur clit, he felt you grow wetter as his grip tightened, “this shit doin’ it for you mama? you like it when daddy choke you?” drool formed in the corners of ur mouth as your orgasm coursed through you. jey flashes you a dangerous smile, “let it out f’ me..that’s a good girl.”

୨୧ ofc, jey’s love language is physical touch! no matter where you are, he is quick to rest his hand on your lower back. his thumb is always caressing you softly, a little reminder of his presence. even his possessive yet firm grip makes you feel comfortable. as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, he asks you, “you ight, mama?” you press your body against his, giving him a simple nod.

୨୧ solo’s extremely laidback. you two are so compatible! the only problem is..he doesn’t say much. but he makes up for it! from making your favorite food to holding you close during movie marathons. however, when your shyness surfaces, he can't help but pout, urging you to loosen up.

୨୧ he’s so vocal in bed, it’s soooo attractive! but he also has a humiliation kink, which is just great. “use ur words, baby,” he purred, pressing the rose toy firmer against your sensitive clit. “p-please please…can i cum?” your legs were trembling and tears were streaming down your cheeks as you felt yourself about to burst. “let it out princess,” even though he let you cum, you had to thank him for being so generous. he was gonna get you to talk one way or another.

୨୧ his love language being quality time means he treasures every moment he spends helping you explore new things aka getting you out of your shell. date nights and vacations with him are always full of surprises; you never know what he has planned next. a sip n’ paint was the location of ur date night with solo. surrounded by the soothing ambiance, you instantly began to relax. solo notices the change in ur demeanor and leans over to kiss you. "So proud of you, princess.” <3

Thanks for reading babe ☁️🌷

・❥ ・ @blcst4r @romanreignsbae @pittieprincess22 @cyberdejos2 @xoxoril3yyy @rwbypatootie @solefae @empressdede @adoreesun @alyyaanna @shantinextdoor @zombiedixon89 @acknowledge-reigns @browneyedgirlfriend4l @girlnred @theasiaabattoir @glitterywitchstarlight @brienivl @melaninpvssypoppin @nashalis97-blog @truefant4sy

[on-leatheredwings]

request: "how dick would handle learning reader is dating somebody?"

Yandere! Dick Grayson / GN! Reader > romantic > tw/cw: possessive thoughts, suggestive thoughts > word count: 660

Dick is 100% going to sabotage it. 

He had been so excited to spend the night with you – even if it is still entirely platonic. A movie with friendly snuggles was better than no movie and no snuggles, right? 

The snacks are classic theater popcorn, sour candies, chips, soda. The theater is your bedroom. A mountain of pillows and blankets are your recliners for the evening. Premium comfort. 

Following the plot of the movie goes out the window once your head drifts sleepily onto his shoulder halfway through the film. Dick tempts fate by reaching his arm around you. He feels jitters when you don’t protest, seemingly agreeable to the contact. You don’t even move once the movie credits start to play. 

It’s a good night so far. A great night.

Then you speak. 

“Oh!” you snap your head to him. Dick does the same, heart jumping with surprise. Snuggling had put him nearly in a tranquilized state. You sit up out of his grasp, and leave him cold and wanting. “You’re always talking about how I should get the house… Well, I forgot to say earlier, but I’m kind of seeing that cute pizza guy I told you about!” 

Dick just stares at you, a smile frozen on his face.

“Oh! That’s awesome!” he says. To his grief, you begin to tell him all about it. “Uh huh. Mm hmm.” he says to your gushing. It was lucky that you were so enamored with your daydreaming that you couldn’t notice his robotic nodding or the displeased glint of his eyes. Dick knew this day may come – you finding someone before he’s ready to pursue you. There are admittedly some things he enjoys about being your friend rather than your lover. Majority of it is feeling like he’s undercover, playing a cat-and-mouse game you aren’t even aware of. But that doesn’t mean you won’t feel attraction to someone else. So Dick has a plan.

The first order of business is making the target of your affection look as incapable as possible. That’s not hard. He is Dick Grayson. He is five-ten and 177 pounds of capable. Most people pale in comparison. He’ljust be a little suggestion, here and there.

“Oh, he’s not treating you to dinner? Well, fuck those stuffy, traditional roles, amirite?” 

“That’s where you had your first date? … He’s really thrifty.” 

“Wait, he volunteers re-socializing homeless abused puppies only once a week? I figured we all make time for it at least every weekday.”

He just needs to plant the seeds of doubt. Give you what people call, ‘the Ick.’ Once you break it off with that guy, surely, you’ll be feeling the temptation of bouncing to someone new. But who…?

That part’s the easy part. (Actually, it’s all pretty easy for him.) Dick will get you to notice just how great he is. He’s charming. And handsome. And rich. And flexible. He just needs to take you out to swim, or skating, or the gym, or the park – anything that would enable him to slide his hands across you. He can already imagine lengthening your arm, putting it gingerly in the right position. He can imagine the sweat beading on your temple. He can imagine your lip bite as you struggle to ignore his chest against your back as he stretches you out.

Dick relaxes, leaning back. He still offers vague commentary in the conversation, but his mind is racing with many other possibilities. Your body. His body. Together.

“But enough about that!” you say finally. “Let’s put on another movie.” Your brow raises cheekily. “Horror movie? And first one to scream owes the other twenty bucks?” 

“I’ll take that bet,” Dick hums. 

At your clear excitement, he feels his cheeks warm. He admires how the blue light of the TV screen reflects in your gorgeous eyes. Maybe he’ll let you win anyway, if only because he loves the look on your face when you do.

[brucewaynehater101]

i keep seeing the hcs (the tim seeing bruce as his son ones) you post and had an idea

so like bruce is like,,, grieving bc sum1 died (who is your choice) and tim js goes back to the behaviors he had when bruce was grieving originally like and every1 is like tim wtf???

i can imagine tim standing off to the side (like a parent watching their kid on a like,, a playground or smth) thinking how he’s going 2 drag bruce upstairs to sleep and sum1 (again your choice) comes up and asks “tim why the fuck are you acting this it makes not sense”

tim’s like “don’t ask”

srry if was confusing

I completely understood. You're good 👍

However, let's explore the angst potential ~

Bruce and the entire Bat family is grieving the loss of their family member (extra points if it's a pivotal role like Dick or Alfred [everyone would hurt, but the family relies on these people]). Everyone is visibly having a rough time.... except for Tim.

Tim cried when the news came (or when they watched the person die). He cried when his family broke down screaming, begging, and sobbing. He cried when he watched each and every family member lose a vital part of themselves.

And then he stopped. He crammed those pieces of himself together and gathered everyone up. He got them home, and his calm facade hasn't broken since.

It's worse this time around because he knew the person who died personally. He loved Jason and was devastated when he died. However, he didn't know Jason personally. He hadn't had his hair ruffled as the individual gave him a fond smirk. He hadn't been left a steaming mug of coffee as a silent sign of support. He hadn't been pulled into a hug or found himself startled into a laugh. He had never heard his name uttered by the person who died like he did this time.

There's a piece of Tim that died when that family member stopped breathing, but it's okay. He's used to that by now. Bruce and his family need him.

So, Tim gives B sympathetic smiles before shoving him into the batmobile for the car rides that help the man fall asleep. He clicks his tongue as the man comes back with too many injuries. He invokes the sticker charts again and the spray bottle. He ruthlessly utilizes emotional manipulation and sharp words until Bruce stops destroying everything around him (both in the literal and metaphorical sense). He provides Bruce with healthier outlets for his grief.

This time, though? He checks up on the other family members as well. He ensures that no one left in his family is alone. He makes sure that everyone has someone to lean on, that they support each other, and that they don't lash out at each other.

It takes a while, between the waves of grief everyone is drowning under and struggling to find the surface of Tim's efforts get overlooked.

Eventually, when the family starts to heal just a bit more, they notice Tim standing with his hands on his hips as he glares at Bruce.

"Bruce Wayne. If you do not strip off that armor, consume your entire dinner, and get into your bed upstairs, there will be consequences. Do NOT make me count to three."

The other Bats watch as Bruce winces, sighs heavily, and then drags his weary body to the changing room.

Someone points out just how weird that is.

It's the first time in months that the family acts with the chaos it usually has.

[justafewsmallsteps]

Another quick art and ficlet for @kagomes-hanakotobamatsuri ! This one focused on Week 3, Fertility and I used the Yellow Rose (new beginnings) as my inspiration flower. I started writing this while I was pregnant 2 years ago, but didn’t get around to finishing it until now.

Title: Potatoes Word Count: 1113 Rating: T Pairing: Inukag Warnings: Pregnancy

Try as she might, Kagome couldn’t help the uncontrollable (and unreasonable) flood of negative emotions that came with her unfulfilled pregnancy craving.

Wacdonald’s, of all things. Of course she was craving one of the most unobtainable foods possible in Sengoku and one of the easiest to find in her modern Tokyo. 

She didn’t really feel regret at leaving the modern world behind, not with Inuyasha and a life of friends and nature to surround her, and yet… 

Kagome found herself seething in angry tears. Angry at her body, angry at her attitude, angry at life. While she was always an emotional person, this hormone-induced storm was driving her crazy. She felt everything stronger, and no amount of logic or sleep was pulling her out of it because when she really really thought about it, it was all so unfair. She was raging at the world for making her choose between one family and another. The past was her future, and the future was now her past. But why did she have to choose? Why couldn’t she have a child with the love of her life and introduce her baby to her mother and grandfather and brother? Her righteous sorrow and her selfish cravings swirled into an indistinguishable mass of feelings. One second there was joy, another pain, the next irrepressible annoyance. She was guilty that she felt this way, upset as a tantruming toddler over a greasy burger and salty fried potatoes. 

And ultimately she was sad to be so far from her mother. 

Her thoughts turned to her poor husband. 

Inuyasha had been very sweet since she’d gotten back, and her pregnancy ramped up his doting completely. From warming her bath, to fetching her the ripest fruits, to building her the most comfortable approximation of a mattress possible, she felt spoiled and grateful. But her pregnancy-addled brain and hormonal body had her feeling so at odds with her heart. She loved being here. She loved her friends and the family they found in each other. She loved Inuyasha. 

Yet she longed for the crepes at the Shinjuku station mall, ice cream from a stand, steak from the grocery store cooked at home… her mouth was practically a waterfall at the thought. But by far the biggest craving was a Wacdonald’s cheeseburger with extra cheese and a side of fries dipped in ketchup. Make that two sides of fries. She could cry thinking about it, which she knew was stupid. 

It didn’t help that so many things made her feel nauseous. She’d helped out with pregnant mothers before, giving them herbs to help, learning from Kaede the rough timeline. She’d given reassurances and her best empathy, but in the throes of morning sickness Kagome wished to strangle her past naivety—and as much as she adored Kaede, the woman never actually had to go through pregnancy. 

Sango helped the most, understanding her anger, giving practical advice to give her the slightest relief. After all, carrying the twins had been an ordeal.

But Kagome was tired of ginger root and plain rice. 

She was tired in general. It has been such a joy to find out she was pregnant, and the first few weeks were a breeze. Then the morning sickness kicked in and subsequently kicked her ass. Morning sickness. God, it was unending sickness. Any time of the day sickness! She huddled under her blanket, willing the fatigue and nausea away. 

Then Inuyasha emerged from the door with her requested pile of potatoes. His look was apprehensive. He wanted to help her in any way he could, knowing that his wife often repressed cries for her mother. 

“I scrubbed ‘em already, and the pan’s good to go.” 

“Thank you, Inuyasha.” 

“I’ll cut ‘em too. It’s supposed to be like sticks, right?” 

She nodded. “Not too thin though.” Her husband was really good with a knife. She might be envious of his skills if he wasn’t such a good partner. 

Before he could start chopping, she stopped him. “Wait! Maybe cubes are better. They’ll move around the pan more easily.” 

“‘Kay,” he replied easily. 

Kagome stifled a groan as she slowly got up. Inuyasha had set the pan to heat already, so all she had to do was add the oil. 

“This look alright?” Inuyasha asked, checking in with her about the size. 

“Those look good.” 

Something about the sound of him chopping away triggered something. Everything triggered some emotion or another—but the domestic simplicity of their lives came at her full force as she heard the rhythmic sounds of their knife hitting their wooden chopping block. 

“It’s wonderful,” she whimpered, tears gathering in her eyes. 

“Woah, woah!” The hanyou turned around in concern, his hand immediately at her back to try to comfort her.  “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she lifted her head and sobbed, unable to hold it back. “It’s just the hormones, but I do think you’re wonderful. I’m so lucky to have you!” she wailed. 

His entire being was on high alert since she got pregnant, and even though he knew emotional outbursts were bound to happen, he still went into overdrive trying to make sense of it and fix whatever he could. “T-thanks.” 

“Thank you for getting me potatoes so we could try making fries. I’m sorry I’m probably going to hate it or throw it up but it’s the closest thing I have to Wacdonald’s.” She wiped her face with her sleeve and sniffled. 

“I told you, woman, I’ll do anything I can. I’m sorry we don’t got wako’s or whatever here.” 

“I’m being unreasonable.”

“It’s normal. You know it is. I know it is. You shoulda seen Miroku while Sango was having her cravings. Damn near swindled every ingredient from every vendor in every town just to find something she couldn’t remember the name of.” 

Kagome gave a watery laugh. “That makes me feel better.” 

“We’ll make something good, and if you hate it and retch I’ll make you two something else.” 

‘Us two,’ Kagome thought in awe, placing her hand on her belly. “We appreciate you.” She sent him a smile and got on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw. 

“Yeah, yeah. If you’re done, I’m going to go finish cutting now,” he brushed off, trying to hide his blush as he turned around. 

“Okay, but we’re following you,” Kagome declared. As her husband resumed chopping the rest of the potatoes, she wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her cheek against his back. 

“I’m gonna be done in five seconds, you know.” 

“Go slower.” 

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, but the quick beat of the chopping slowed to a different, sweeter ballad, and Kagome hummed contentedly along.

[ghoul-slime]

Mushy May Day 1 - Cuteness Aggression (Aether/Dew)

Trying my hand at Mushy May this year! Not sure how many prompts I'll get through, but I decided I'd try to write Dewther for all of the prompts this time around. Thank you so much to @forlorn-crows and anyone else involved in making this happen!

Day 1: Cuteness Aggression (Aether/Dew)

He’s still a new summon, not even topside for two weeks now, but he’s finally getting used to the routine. Now, as Dew stands in front of the full-length mirror in the dressing room on the day of their very first ritual and fiddles with the sash cinched tight around his waist, he hears a low growl from over his shoulder. 

It’s Aether, another new summon, a burly quintessence ghoul with strong arms and a shaggy mohawk. He’s sitting on the couch behind Dew, already dressed in his own uniform. Tonight will be his first ritual too.

“Problem, big guy?” Dew quirks his eyebrow and shoots a look into the mirror back at the growling ghoul on the couch.

Aether, who up until now had been entirely warm and friendly towards him, answers with a grunt, brows furrowed in concentration as he sizes Dew up in the mirror.

Dew has never been one to back down, so he goes back to preening himself unbothered. If the new ghoul has suddenly decided he’s got a problem with him then well, he can let him know or not. Dew couldn’t care less.

But when Dew gathers his long platinum hair into his hands and reaches back to tie it up into a tight little bun on top of his head with an elastic band, the growling kicks up again, louder this time. He looks back, ready to shoot a glare at the new ghoul, mood souring at the fact that he seems to have fallen out of favor with his new packmate at record-breaking speed. 

But before he can open his mouth to say anything, Aether is hauling himself up off the couch and in another breath he’s pressing himself against Dew’s back, big strong hands coming up to rest heavy on Dew’s bony little hips.

Aether growls directly into Dew’s ear, setting the hairs on his arms on end. “Why’re you so small for?” Aether slurs, normally cheery voice coming out raspy and deep. Dew hears him swallow thickly.

“Fuckin’ cute. Wanna bite you. Right here,” he says, snuffing into the crook of Dew’s neck, grazing sharp fangs across Dew’s pulse.

Dew stares at Aether’s reflection in the mirror, he looks almost intoxicated. Red-faced and sweat beginning to bead at his hairline. He feels his fingers flex their grip on his waist.

“Thought you were pretty cute before but… this uniform?” Aether grunts into his ear again. Dew feels a blush spread across his cheeks.

“Makes you look so small. Tiny little waist….” Aether trails off, like he’s been talking to himself this whole time and not to Dew at all. Eyes fixed on their reflection in the mirror, the way Dew’s slender form is almost dwarfed by Aether’s muscular body. Strong, but soft in all the right places. Standing much more than a whole head taller than Dew. 

Dew takes it all in and lets out a soft little growl of his own.

“Wanna wrap my arms around you and squeeze.”

Dew glances up at the dressing room clock, counting down steadily until they’re due out on stage. There’s just four and a half minutes left. Too late to do anything about this now. 

Dew twists himself around in Aether’s grip, and the quintessence ghoul looks him in the eye for the first time since he started growling. He slides his hands up Aether’s chest until he’s wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him down.

Dew whispers into his ear. A promise for later.

Dew once again finds himself standing in front of a dressing room mirror, this time surrounded by new packmates. New instruments. Hell, even a whole new element.

He fiddles with the black elastic suspenders on his brand new uniform, still not exactly used to the things. He could never quite get them to lay right during the uniform fittings and he finds himself struggling still, growing more irritated by the minute.

He’s snapped out of his frustration by a low, rumbling growl from off to his side. His eyes snap up to the mirror and sure enough, it’s exactly who he thinks it is.

“Hey Aeth.” Dew turns to the quintessence ghoul standing behind him. The growling continues.

“Aeth?” Dew snaps his fingers, breaking Aether’s trance. His eyes dart up to Dew’s face, a blush already beginning to spread across his handsome features.

The growl cuts off abruptly.

“Huh?” Aether answers sheepishly, knowing he’s been caught.

“Aeth, you’re doing that thing again,” Dew laughs, waving his hands and beckoning the bigger ghoul over to his side in front of the mirror.

“Sorry, Dew,” Aether chuckles apologetically, hands immediately finding their way to Dew’s hips and squeezing just a little too tight. Dew can feel the sharp point of his claws just barely poking their way through the tight fabric of his uniform pants.

“It’s just that you look…,” he trails off, “Wow.” He reaches up, smooths out the kink in the suspenders that Dew had been wrestling with. “I like these a lot.”

“So cute…” Aether’s thought trails off again.

Dew laughs, breathy and red faced. He glances at the clock. Just three minutes to go. 

He pulls himself out of Aether’s grip and grabs his new coat off the hanger. When Aether goes for his own, Dew swats him on the ass.

Payback.

Dozens of shows give way to hundreds, and Dew once again finds himself at the top of a new era. Everything is bigger and better. Their uniforms and masks are more detailed. All fine fabrics and supple leathers. Dew even managed to talk Papa into letting him use the Strat on stage.

And of course bigger venues meant bigger dressing rooms, full floor to ceiling mirrors taking up the length of an entire wall. Now they were even traveling with costume staff dedicated to helping them into their uniforms.

Dew takes in his own reflection, smoothing his hands over the velvet soft fabric of his vest, admiring the glint of the brass buckles, and feeling the light swoosh of the silky blue and black cape strapped across his slender chest and over one shoulder.

Aether strides up to his side. He’s already got his helmet on. “There’s my cute little ghoul princess,” he coos.

Dew snorts, chokes down a laugh. “Nah, that’s Rain’s job.”

Aether holds his gaze in the mirror. “Not to me it isn’t,” he answers with such sincerity in his voice Dew can’t help choking up a little. Not that he’d ever admit it. Not even to Aether.

Aether pushes up against him, leans down to bonk the top of Dew’s head with his helmet playfully. Dew watches him in the mirror. Aether has always looked good, but these new uniforms are doing wonders for him. The shiny leather boots make him look powerful and the epaulets of the jacket accentuate his broad shoulders. 

He’s never looked more handsome.

Dew’s reverie is broken as Aether leans down to growl into his ear. 

“Just thought you should know it's taking every ounce of control in me not to take my claws and shred that lovely new uniform of yours into ribbons and take you right here on the floor of the dressing room. Pretty little thing.”

Dew looks up at him and knows he’s telling the truth.

One minute to go.

Weeks and months and years go by. A lot of big changes happen. Aether steps down from the band. A new quintessence ghoul joins the pack. Dew takes it pretty well, all things considered. 

They tour. Dew’s heart aches. 

They come home. More time passes.

Now, Dew finds himself in the middle of the bustling abbey, just days away from the commencement of yet another tour. This time, there are more than a few new ghouls. And now a new Papa.

But Dew won’t be going out with them this time, a decision he’d made that he finds himself still wrestling with. Even so, he has his hands full. He’d been training his new protege for the better part of the year, showing him everything from mastering technique on the lead guitar to the best way to pack a bag for a long trip away from home. Even now he’d been roped into helping with last minute uniform adjustments for the new ghouls.

He kneels down, shakes a stray hair out of his eyes, golden strands fallen out of the messy bun on his head, and mumbles around the safety pins he’s holding in his mouth as he adjusts the bottom cuff of the new fire ghoul’s pants.

“These still need hemming,” he says sternly, mostly to himself. He pins them up and stands, folding his arms in front of his chest as he considers all the details of the new uniform and how they might affect the stage performance if they don’t get things just right. He furrows his brow in concentration.

“Alright, go tell the sisters you’re ready for them,” Dew instructs, and as he turns to watch the ghoul go, he’s surprised to find Aether standing there, leaning against the door frame. He’s watching them with a huge smile plastered across his handsome face. He gives the new ghoul a high five as he scoots out the door and down the hall.

As soon as they’re alone, Aether kicks the door closed behind him, stalks up to Dew and scoops him up by the waist. Hugs him so tight Dew feels like all the air is being squeezed out of him. Aether buries his face into the crook of Dew’s neck and kisses him there, quick little closed-mouth pecks giving way to something more insistent. Dew feels the sharp edge of a fang.

“Aeth, you’re biting me,” he informs the quintessence ghoul who has decided to latch onto sensitive skin.

“Can’t help myself,” Aether murmurs into the spot on his neck. “That serious look on your face. You looked so cute I just had to take a bite”

Dew glances back at the clock ticking away in the corner of the room. 

They have all the time in the world.

[inkdemonapologist]

FINALLY got these scribbles from last session of the Cthulhu game scanned in lmao, THINGS HAVE BEEN SO BUSY but cthulhu has been very exciting!!

While looking for some Alan Leroy guy to figure out why the Phantom is following(?) him(?), we asked around with (a) his book club friends and (b) the mob, as one does. Sammy managed to avoid seeing the yellow sign when he realised very quickly what Cool Obscure Book this book club pal might be describing (unlike Jack, a polite boy who does not RAPIDLY AVERT HIS EYES FROM HIS CONVERSATIONAL PARTNER), but did not manage to avoid being hustled off by the mob to talk to The Boss when Henry asked just a few too many questions. it went fine but Sammy was SO STRESSED, HES ALREADY BEEN KIDNAPPED BY GANGSTERS ONCE HE DOESNT WANT TO DO IT AGAIN

also hes still cute in this hat. you should wear hats more often sammy. ANYWAY if you're here for Out of Context quotes from this session, I GOT EM RIGHT HERE UNDER THE CUT:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Sammy] He will mention to Henry, something about "Oh boy, dreams are starting up again" kind of thing. [Henry] Yyyyup. [Henry] Don't get possessed again. [Sammy] [Sammy] i dON'T THINK SAMMY KNOWS WHAT TO DO WITH THAT!! The last time he got possessed was BY PROPHET, whom he still shares a body with!! [Henry] Prophet doesn't count! Don't get possessed by anyone else. [Sammy] .... I'LL DO MY BEST, [Sammy] I just like the idea of Henry being like 'don't get possessed' and Sammy just LOOKS at him, like............ I'm already possessed, what are you talking about

[Sammy] Given how these things like to happen on auspicious days, I'm a little worried about New Years,

[Joey] That's exactly the spin he's going to put on it -- Some time off for New Years, and a bonus day off to recover from the celebrations! [Jack] Gotta account for those, now that drinking's back!

[Henry] Oh good, I was really worried Joey would call Norman and get a "who are you?" [Jack] Norman DOES do that, but just because he thinks it's funny. [GM] That's possible, yeah, [Sammy] Oh my gosh. I believe it, is the thing. [GM] I do too, honestly... this might just be a thing that happens.

[GM] And the studio seems normal, and nobody got kidnapped in the night, not even Norman, and Henry's family is safe -- things are doing so good! [Jack] Nobody that we're currently in contact with got kidnapped in the night! [GM] That's true. [Jack] I'm not ruling out Bertrum getting kidnapped. [Jack] ...unrelated to the Carcosa nonsense, he just got kidnapped. [GM] That's what he gets for hanging out with the mob. [Jack] Sorry, I mean, "The Great Bertrum Piedmont." Have to use his full and official title. [GM] That's how you get him un-kidnapped, he just breaks through a wall to correct you. [Jack] *laughing* The Kool-Aid Bert................ [GM] The Great Kool-Aid Piedmont, [Jack] Now that's fanart I don't want to see.

[GM] Welcome back! We've been talking about the Great Bertrum Piedmont Kool-Aid-ing through a wall to correct you about his name. [Sammy] *startled wheezing* Okay, well it sounds like I've missed some really important developments!

[Jack] I think Jack would lean in the direction of like, they wanted to get in touch with him at the charity thing-- aaagh, that's technically not true. He's not the fast talk boy, he's not allowed to, [Sammy] I mean, he CAN fast talk, Henry does it all the time! [Jack] But does he succeed-- [Sammy] Henry's not the Fast Talk Boy but he keeps LYING anyway!!!

[Sammy] I feel like Jack is good at looking worried, and, caring about his fellow man, [Jack] I don't think he has to TRY to look worried??? [Sammy] I don't think Sammy contains these qualities. Sammy looks like he's here to arrest you. [GM] She's actually giving Sammy a concerned look, [Sammy] Sammy is HERE FOR THE PROTECTION MONEY.

[Jack] Well, this was lovely! Time to leave, because Sammy's already... vibrating against the door trying to clip through it.

[Sammy] Sammy's IMMEDIATELY going to tell him about this clarinet with the missing E flat extension. [Sammy] ....and then ALSO mention that he thinks maybe he's seen this guy before.

[Joey] Joey slightly fixes Henry's hair before they head in. [Sammy] (That's a little bit gay, but alright,) [Jack] (I think it's more than a little bit) [Joey] LISTEN, listen, Joey recognises-- [Jack] Linda's out of town! [Joey] --Joey recognises the neighbourhood,

[GM] The door gets opened pretty quickly, but the guy inside actually looks a little like he's suddenly out of his depth, because whatever he was expecting to happen is not what is happening. [Sammy] That's a common reaction to Joey Drew.

[Joey] I feel like it's not going to be a fast talk roll, actually, to make this guy feel like this is NOT a dangerous ask? So I'm gonna go with persuade instead. [GM] Are you going with the tack that you were concerned parties from the event? [Joey] I think, concerned party, perhaps leaning towards the notion that they hit it off well at the party, and -- I'm just turning it into a fast talk, [Joey] *trying again* I think Joey is leaning more into an idea that they are freshly met, but have similar interests? Or... possibly leaning into he's ...a friend of a friend and we're looking into it for that friend? [Sammy] Joey trying NOT to lie is really funny. "Oh well obviously I'll just say -- oh, I guess that's not true; I'll just -- WELL, that's not technically true either," [Joey] ADMITTEDLY, if this does turn into a fast talk roll, using the same roll it's now a BETTER SUCCESS, so, [Sammy] Just really funny how hard it is for Joey to just, HONESTLY REASSURE someone without inventing a whole narrative [Joey] I'M GOOD AT COMING UP WITH STORIES!! I'm not good at... fact-checking them first...

[Joey] Please, if you hear from him, or get any more information, please reach out to us as soon as possible, because the sooner we can prevent this, the better off he'll be -- y'know, that whole thing! [Joey] Do the most heartfelt, emotional connection he can... it's a little gay, but... [Sammy] I fully believe in Joey's ability to extoll the virtues of this man he's never met.

[Sammy] We can just check with Norman, have him peek out the window and see if it looks weird, [Joey] "Hey Norman, is your house in the right location?" [Jack] "Dunno why you called me outside just to tell me that you moved my house!"

[GM] Norman answers the door, and gives you guys a quizzical look. [Henry, out of character] :D Hey, did your house move? [Sammy, in-character] >:/ Did your house move?

[Sammy] Sammy will point out things Jack noticed as being different, as if he also noticed them. [GM] He'll turn back to you, and just kind of observe in a blase sort of way that he's apparently moved. [Jack] I love Norman,,,, [Joey] I love Norman's 89% Sanity score that never gets hit, apparently! [Jack] His sense of humour is actually an indefinite insanity. [Sammy] A constant coping mechanism, [Jack] Can't go insane when you already are!!

[Jack] Jack is, not happy about this, [GM, as Norman] He wonders if you'd like to come in for a housewarming, then.

[Sammy] Sammy's going to just catch her up on, the guy we're looking for read the play, [Sammy] Also, might be a guy that Sammy saw in New Orleans, and that might be why he knew the music?? [Sammy] ALSO, WEIRD THING with his clarinet, he doesn't have the E flat extension that you'd EXPECT HIM TO HAVE? [GM] I think Susie knows enough that she would say that's weird if he's playing seriously. [Jack] I was about to ask if this meant anything to these two-- [Joey] Norman is regaining sanity by watching Sammy rattle on about all this. [GM] He's probably chiming in opinions, too, that are completely not based in any actual musical knowledge -- [Henry] Norman just like "He's missing the E extension? Next he's gonna lose the, the F Shortener!" [GM] "What's the world coming to!" [Sammy] Sammy's giving him the most unamused look, and this is all Norman wanted. [GM] Yeah, yeah, this is how he keeps his sanity high. [Sammy] Just annoy Sammy Lawrence. That's the secret.

[Jack] Good to make sure things aren't going weirder over here-- which, uhhh, [Sammy] Which they are!!

[Sammy] That's smart, but that's also really spooky. Like okay, cool! The whole world has re-written this! Cool cool cool cool cool. [GM] He doesn't seem PLEASED about it, but he seems about normal. [Henry] He seems Norman about it. [Jack] Yeah, Normal Polk. [Jack] *cracking up* He shows up at work the next day and he's called "Normal Ponk." That's his name now.

[Jack] Reality's rewriting itself, wanna kiss about it? [Henry] Ah, Jack's okay again.

[Jack] If this was Fowler, then WHO WAS PHONE????

[GM] Well, okay, first things first, does Joey have Peter's number memorised? [Joey] HM. [Joey] ...I feel like he wouldn't admit it, but yes.

[Joey] Joey says he's going to call Peter back in a minute. And hangs up. [GM] You cut him off in the middle of some sort of response-- [Joey] Cool.

[Joey] He managed to break into a safe once by doing this! [Henry] "Break into" is... a bit of a strong phrasing. [GM] *mumbling* "Get locked inside of,"

[Joey] The main thing is, Do Not Go Alone, because if something happens to Peter... we have no way of tracking down the information that he has! We, we lose, all of his evidence! [Jack] .....and that's the ONLY thing, [Joey] Yup! [Henry] We ALSO lose his, HIM, [Joey] *mumbling* No, no that doesn't matter as much, as evidence, [Joey] It's clearly just, the fact that they lose all the benefits of having a reporter with ghost powers on their side, and NOT Peter himself, that is the issue! [Jack] iTS NOT LIKE HE CARES ABOUT YOU OR ANYTHING!!!

[Jack] *spongebob meme* You like Peter Sunstram, don't you, Joey?

[Joey] Both Henry and Sammy are the best able to get themselves out of a tough, fight-y situation, [Sammy] We can both punch, and Henry has magical power if something supernatural happens... [Joey] Also! Also, neither Joey nor Jack are there to be taken hostage and used against them! [Sammy] ... I think you're actually right. I hate to admit it, but I think you're right. [Jack] I can't wait for Jack to be kidnapped at the magic shop, you guys!

[Henry] I can't believe we're sending the two least talky boys off together to talk to the mob, [Joey] LISTEN. Henry and Sammy can go to the restaurant! Henry likes food! There we go! [GM] I can't believe Joey's just making sure Henry gets a nice meal after his shake-up earlier... [Sammy] I dunno, maybe Peter should come with us, just in ghost form. Henry can see him, potentially, [Jack] So Pete's body can... Not be where he left it when he gets back to it! [Sammy] ....hm, [Joey] *startled laughter* [Sammy] ....okay, nevermind,... [Jack] Just leave him in the car, what could go wrong! That's not disappeared MULITPLE TIMES!

[GM] Johnny Nero is of average height and build, with dark, slicked back hair, and a neatly trimmed moustache -- so not like any of the other people that you know! [GM] Wears expensive tailored suits, though. [Jack & Joey] *snickering* So, not like, any of the people you know-- [GM] It narrows it down a bit!! [Sammy] Alright, alright; bargain bin Joy Drew, got it.

[GM] You guys do get an offer to have food, while you're waiting. [Sammy] Yeah.... why not..... [Henry] Henry will, not,,, [Joey] *shocked* NO????? [Joey] *absolutely flabbergasted* FOOD!!!!! [Sammy] Gangsters don't usually poison you, they usually give you nice food and then they knock you out and throw you in the river. [Henry] WELL HENRY DOESNT KNOW THAT! [GM] He hasn't done speakeasies like Sammy has!!

[Sammy] I'm noticing that this guy actually looks really nervous, and isn't taking charge of the situation, [GM] He DOES have something that's probably a firearm in his pocket. [Sammy] Yeah, yeah, but, [Jack] It's his emotional support firearm!

[Sammy] Actually... Sammy WILL ask him if he saw it. [GM] Uh, [Sammy] Because he was RIGHT THERE looking at him. And I feel like, once you've seen it, and it does the weird thing where it gets in your head, you're not going to be confused what somebody's talking about if they ask you if you saw the yellow sign. You're going to know what that means. [GM] [GM] Are you going to say the thing...? [Sammy] Have You Seen The Yellow Sign?

[Henry] Henry is half-considering... [Sammy] *manically excited* DO YOU WANT TO TAKE THE THORN OUT OF THIS LION'S PAW, HENRY???

[Henry] You haven't been able to think straight since, have you? [GM] He kind of squints at you, because he's a gangster and he doesn't want to be like "D: YEAH, ITS BEEN REALLY ROUGH :(" [Joey] *laughs* Henry IMMEDIATELY knows this look, because Joey does this as well!

[Sammy] Push the roll!! Push push push! [Henry] *nervous* I DON'T KNOW IF I WANT TO PUSH IT,,, [Sammy] WE'RE ALREADY KIDNAPPED! WHAT ELSE CAN GO WRONG!

[Henry] We didn't get kidnapped, so it's you guys' turn! [Joey] We have the kidnapping charm with us, also known as "Jack Fain"! [Sammy] Oh I thought it was Peter Sunstram. [Sammy] [Sammy] DO THEY STACK?

[Jack] I can't wait for us to get to these spooky occult magic shops, and it's just like, "here's a bunch of overpriced tumbled gemstones and some incense!" [GM] The first one you go to is kind of that style. [Jack] Ideal! I hope they have a really tacky fake skull. [Joey] Joey is judging the whole place.

[Joey] WAIT, wait, they took you from the bar to the restaurant, and then you got the heckin' sign out of Nero's head, and he's not even gonna offer you a ride back to the bar?!? [Henry] I think what we got out of it is "not being kidnapped". [GM] JOEY is the one with the history of talking kidnappers into giving him rides, [Sammy] I do think it would be classier if he gave us a ride. I'm with Boo on this, it would be a classy gangster move. [Sammy] With that guy they kidnapped to do music for whoever's birthday party, they dropped him back off later, but, you know, it's fine, [Joey] Show your heckin' appreciation! *exasperated* THIS IS HOW WE CAN TELL HE'S AVERAGE!! [GM] Uh, lemme roll a quick like............. etiquette roll, [Sammy] Gangster Classiness, [GM] *rolls terribly* Yeah, I think he's frazzled enough -- this is gonna reflect poorly on him later. [Joey] Wow.

[Jack] Normal success for Jack! How many terrible tacky skulls do I see? [GM] Just SO many. [Sammy] This place won't help you, buddy. [Jack] I dunno, if you buy enough tacky skulls, maybe the guy won't wanna get near you. [Henry] Just throw tacky skulls at him! [Jack] A tacky skull a day keeps the pallid mask away!!

[GM] A more discerning occult collection than the other one. [Jack] The kind of place that has the more occult things like, in a locked cabinet instead of in a heap on the counter. [Sammy] In the bargain bin, [Jack] "Box of assorted random magic junk"? Yeah, I wanna rummage my hand in that, I'm not gonna get five curses, [Jack] *laughs* I'm not even AT the other place anymore and I'm still dunking on it! [Sammy] Jack's just saying these things to Joey to like, keep his spirits up. [Joey] It would be working,

[Sammy] I am curious if the restaurant is at the same address that we remember it being on. [GM] It is the same address! The name is different. [Jack] What's the new name? [GM] Lombardi's! It was Leon's. [Henry] ... some dude got his whole name changed, [Jack] Oh man, when do they do that to me, I want a legal name change! [Jack] Bringing the Yellow King into the world to get a free transition, [Sammy] No! Don't do it! He won't transition you into a human, it'll be..... something else,

[Henry] We're gonna run over the Pallid Mask. Vroom vroom motherfucker.

[GM] You do bump into something that is unyielding. [Jack] Oh no, Jack's car! [Jack] ... and also, whatever he hit, I guess!

[Joey] Joey is immediately flipping around to grab his cane; if the guy tries to get in the car, he's going to bash him in the face! and say GET OUT!! [Sammy] Well, it worked really well for Nero, so [Henry] The guy just got hit by a car and didn't move! I don't think the cane's gonna do much! [Jack] Especially not with Joey's weak noodle arms! [Joey] Yeah but he's upset!! That this guy is trying to get in the car! He was not invited in! [GM] ...make a CON roll. [Joey] [Joey] oKEY DOKEY,,,

[Sammy] Peter now is NOT the time to astral project [GM] Luckily he doesn't have that insanity currently, or he'd already be gone! [Jack] The car stops and Pete's ghost just flies through the windshield,

[Jack] I'm losing my mind... [GM] You are! 1d6 of it!

[GM] This is kind of wild magic zone, so you get some creative license. [Joey] Hmm. Hmm! Hmmmmmm... [Sammy] Oh no, you've given Joey Drew creative license,

[Joey] But when I picked out Jack's car, it's the first car that has full safety glass in it!! [Jack] [Jack] SO EVEN MORE EXPENSIVE TO REPLACE!!!

[slyscoutess]

I'm going to be taking advantage of the trailer for Senna's new miniseries to explain a subject that Brazil has been talking about for years, and that I think is important to share, so as not to have disagreements with the somewhat uncertain future of the script made for the miniseries.

Explaining why many Senna fans don't like Xuxa, a great artist and his most famous ex.

All the information in this was taken and translated from a thread, which was taken from several public interviews and also from stories that we have been told about Senna since we were little, so I may forget some details!

the release of the trailer for the Netflix series “SENNA” has revived the debate about how Senna’s relationship with Xuxa is portrayed in the media. Firstly, it is important to know that they had a public relationship between 1988 and 1990 (we don't know for sure) their relationship was very well regarded by the media and by the pilot's family, after the end the two continued to be “friends” publicly for more 2 years

In 1993 Ayrton began dating Adriane Galisteu, which according to some articles irritated the pilot's family, as in addition to liking Xuxa a lot (who was already famous and rich at that time), they thought that his current girlfriend might have had her eye on his money. Shortly after the beginning of Senna and Galisteu's relationship, there were some interviews with the singer Xuxa, saying that Ayrton had cut off contact with her because of his new girlfriend, clearly with the intention of being welcomed by the public as the “poor thing” in the situation.

[ TRANSLATION: after the funeral, Galisteu's relationship with Xuxa, however, was shaken. The presenter and pilot dated for approximately one year and eight months and continued to meet for more two years after they broke up. Then Senna started dating Galisteu and "cut contacts" ]

After the fateful accident, which unfortunately ended up taking the great Brazilian idol, Senna's family continued to exclude Galisteu and support Xuxa, which led many fans to side with the model since she had just lost her boyfriend and was without any support.

[ TRANSLATION 1: Family members welcomed the queen of little kids with open arms, but they did not hug Galisteu. At the time, one of the last in the procession reported - Xuxa was if the car Adriane was in was in the second car, just behind the car that carried Senna's body. ]

[ TRANSLATION 2: Crying a lot, Galisteu said that the two of them were having a great time in their relationship, that she was very much in love and had no idea what she was going to do with her life. "I think I'm living a nightmare and I'm going to wake up. There are moments when I'm strong, aware of everything, and others when I'm totally out of my mind. And I suddenly find myself completely alone, because I lost my boyfriend", said the model. "I wanted to go back in time two days to do something and stop everything ," she added. "But for me he was untouchable, he always came out well of accidents.” ]

[ TRANSLATION 3: When Adriane arrived at the burial site, there were only two empty chairs left, both next to Xuxa. She sat to the right of the presenter. The two spent two "long" minutes without even looking at each other, until someone offered Xuxa a seat next to Leonardo Senna, the driver's brother. ]

It is also worth mentioning that many of Senna's friends stated that he said that Galisteu was the love of his life and that he wanted to build a family with the model. However, Xuxa continued going after the pilot to try to get back together while he was still with the model.

[ TRANSLATION 1 : Then, according to the report, the presenter got into the family car, accompanied by Ayrton's sister, Viviane Senna, and left with them, while Galisteu had to walk to the exit of the cemetery and board a bus reserved for guests. For the journalists covering the burial, there was a clear impression that Adriane had not received the consideration that the three-time world champion himself had been giving his girlfriend. ]

[ TRANSLATION 2: Journalist Lemyr Martins, author of the book "A Star Called Senna", said, in a BBC documentary, that Galisteu was Senna's great love and "could have been the mother of his children", if it weren't for accident that killed the athlete in Italy. However, there are also theories of that Xuxa and Sena had talked about day before the accident and would have decided to resume the relationship. ]

[ TRANSLATION 3: In 1993, Senna opened up about the relationship that lives with Galisteus: "I'm very happy. [...] Having a life. As we Brazilian (pilots), traveling the world with Formula 1, we deserve, sometimes, to take a little calm and share our life with a special woman", he stated. ]

Okay love, but what's up? Why is there so much antipathy between Xuxa and motorsport fans? The reality is, the reason is that she used a lot of the driver's image to promote herself even after the accident, in addition to trying to force that SHE was the great love of his life, it is worth mentioning that the rumors that they had talked before the race were initiated, and are remembered, by her and her alone, with a video and/or interview talking year after year about a supposed connection they both had, always pretending to be a repentant widow, and Senna had two love affairs before Galisteu, after da Xuxa. Even after 30 years she still continues to share their INTIMATE moments, which in my opinion is totally disrespectful to Ayrton

She is known for wanting to convey the image of an “inconsolable widow” to this day, which is an image that doesn't work very well in Brazil, especially those who follow the interviews with Ayrton's friends, and Adriane herself, who leave It's very clear the pure love they felt for each other, as Adriane was the love of his life, he wanted to form his family with her, and one of Ayrton's biggest dreams was to be a father, so he could understand that he wanted to fulfill this dream about her says a lot about his love for her

apparently the Senna series will show this Xuxa character as a “widow” figure for Ayrton, especially because here we know that Adriane was not called to help in any way regarding her moments with him during the development of the series, to be clearer , she thought the character's name wouldn't be hers, she thought they would make her a fictional character.

Unlike Xuxa, Galisteu's interviews are rarely trying to “get back into the media” using Senna's name, as well as being very elegant when mentioning all of the presenter's “stories”.

“butterfly path, my 405 days alongside Ayrton Senna” by Adriane Galisteu

Adriane received an offer to be a Grid Girl at the 1993 Brazilian Grand Prix. She didn't like the idea, because she didn't care about F1, but she ended up agreeing as it was a good proposal. The first meeting with Senna took place on Saturday, during a social event at the Shell hospitality center, but they did not interact. On race Sunday, during the pitwalk, she was approached near the McLaren pits "I'm Ayrton Senna's private affairs advisor. He asked me to get his phone number." She passed and continued her work. She, who initially didn't like racing, found herself cheering madly for the Brazilian to win the race. And he won!

During the celebration given by Shell, all the grid girls came to him to congratulate him. She congratulated him and he asked her to celebrate with him. She refused. He called her the next day and asked her out. She refused again. He invited her to a party. She got a puncture and didn't go AGAIN hahaha

HE ENDED UP AT HER AGENCY OUT OF NOWHERE, everyone was euphoric.

They met at his house and arranged to go to Angra. They went in a helicopter piloted by Senna himself. She says that those days were extremely happy, she talks about her first kiss and the many walks on the beach and diving with her dog Kinda. Still on that same trip, he invented that there was a problem in the room she was in and took her to another "It's my room. Now it's yours too. Make yourself comfortable", From then on, they never let go!

She was introduced into F1, as his girlfriend, at the Monaco GP. She received a private lesson on all the characteristics of the track and was introduced to Berger, Braguinha, Rubinho, Betise, Galvão. He won the race and said it was for her. Upon returning from that incredible trip he says:

"Please don't ever change. If I had to ask you for something, it would be to be exactly who you are. You just don't need to drink so much Coca-Cola, go to so many McDonald's and, seriously, I think you should study English"

Already in Brazil, Dri was looking for a used car to buy. Then on a date that wouldn't be anything special, he surprises her with a brand new silver Uno. The car was full of flowers. On the plate a special detail: "DRI7770". She still has this car today.

Another cute episode was one time they got into an argument over an interview she gave to a magazine. To apologize later, he surprises her:

"Have you been to the bank yet?”

He gave a beautiful interview about how much he loved her, he even gave images of the two of them to Caras magazine.

"One day, I'm going to marry you. And one day I'm going to race in a Ferrari. Even if the Ferrari car drives as fast as a beetle car, I want to be there at my last start, my last lap, my last checkout - I dreamed. - Ferrari is the mystique of Formula 1"

Many say that this relationship made Senna a happier man. That Galisteus made him much happier and lighter.

Words from one of the most important people in the pilot's life, Braguinha: “Ayrton was sad and she made him happier”

The book tells this and much more.

It was such a cute story that it seems like fanfic. Dri moved on with her life, but she always carries this important part with her. She says that she would never want her story to be disconnected from his, that she has the honor of being Senna's ex.

For those who like these behind-the-scenes things, it's worth reading! There are so many more stories there!

I admire Adriane Galisteu so much

She was so young and had to deal with so much. I saw some interviews that were clearly rude to her and she never lost her class!

April 30, 1994

"I have a lot to tell you. To propose to you. To offer you - he continued. I must be there at 8:30 pm, or so. I want to spend the night awake. Let's talk until dawn. I want to convince you that I am, by the way, the best man of your life"

Sempre Senna.

[dairy-farmer]

There was an arc, where Tim fought to destroy an Evil VR Hivemind Internet type world? And that's got me thinkin~! So brace for another longish one! If the technology is POSSIBLE?

Why not a dumbed down, safeties in place, VR world?

Some tech genius manages to create it, it actually works, takes the world by storm. Is markted as the True Do Anything Game. And obviously, it's an intelligence agency's and superheroes worst nightmare. Crooks are meeting up through the game to make deals. The creator is scrambling to keep up and put safeties in place to stop them.

Obviously, Tim has to catch them, right?

But he can't look like Tim Drake! Luckily you can customize whenever you want. And he chose an intentionally vague username. But... it's? Nice. Being anonymous. Not being stuck under layers of disguise. Playing flashy games and dancing on unrealistic dance floors.

He catches his targets, considers logging out.

But to what? Cold take out and trash TV? This is the closest to a night "out" he's had in a while. His body is even getting rested! Laying still and (mostly) relaxed on his bed. So... fuck it. He's gonna be young and hot for once. Make friends he'll never see again, come tomorrow.

And THATS when? One of his glittery new twink friends? Leans over and tells him, like it's a dirty lil secret, the BEST part of this new "game"! No consequences hook ups. No really bodies, means no disease! No real faces or names? Means go nuts! Cut loose! Destress a bit and go wild!

And... Tim DOES have a lot of stress...

So he searchs around the various party spots, for someone that looks like he can lift Tim one handed, bend him in half, then destroy him. Because you can accuse him of many things, but being interested in the safe and boring option is not one of them.

"Burns_Malone".

A transparent nod to Matches, Bruce's criminal alias. Tim would laugh at the guy if his muscles weren't glorious. Clearly a goon fan boy. But! A HOT goon fan boy. So Tim decides to try his luck.

His luck is fantastic.

One unfairly hot make out session and some holoscreen clicks later, they are in a private "hangout" room. The kind someone so very kindly stuffed a bed into. Nice. And then? It occurs to Tim? "Oh HEY, not my real body... means no incriminating marks or patrol stopping bruises, tomorrow! I really CAN cut loose!"

So he demands that Malone REALLY puts his back into it. Bend him in half and make a Gotham man see God. Feels Malone go DANGEROUSLY, delightfully still beneath him, as he purrs his gleefully bratty demands right into his ear. Those strong hands tightening on his hips. He's gonna get put RIGHT were Malone wants him~

And he does.

Held open, pinned down. Dragged into just the right position to rock his world. Feeling gloriously split apart in away he'd never let himself have normally. Because he wouldn't be able to WALK afterwards. Claiming, brutal hands. Hot and perfect against his skin, making him feel so WANTED and desired. Getting dragged down to meet each powerful thrust, feeling that thick rod DRAG against and reshape EVERYTHING.

By the time he logs out, his pants are a sodden mess.

He's definitely hooked.

(And, unbeknownst to him, so is Bruce.)

He goes back, during his down times, to "destress".

Meets an acrobat at a virtual circus. They keep their masks on, seem so familiar. The guy's a fan of the Flying Graysons, Tim gets bent over dressing bench, surround by sequins and silks, beneath the eternal grin of his brother. It shouldn't be as hot as it is. He's lifted and balanced with such EASE. Treated like a sweet little treasure, even as his body is pounded and teased mercilessly.

(Dick is enchanted. In love. HAS to find the man he... "met" at the circus.)

Then there's the man at The Library. It's hailed as the largest of the modern age. Sue Tim, he got curious. They literally run into each other, rounding a corner. They talk books. Talk Gotham. Shit talk the mayor. Tim is seduced by cheesy pickup lines. Totally laughs at him, when his "Hangout" room of default is "Night in The Library". Neeeerd~!

His laughter gets kissed of his face. And yeah, he can admit, it's pretty intimate here. Soothing. Makes every noise he makes seem so LOUD. Which of course immediately becomes a problem when Nerdy Pants decides to reveal his Savant Level oral.

Propped up in an over stuffed chair, legs over Library Guy's shoulders, with nothing but the crackle of the fireplace and the sound Tim's choking on, trying not to make? He's loosing his MIND. Melting. Library Guy's fingers deep inside him, rubbing and fucking against just the right spots. His mouth relentless and hungry on Tim's poor clit. It's over embarrassingly fast.

But it keeps GOING.

He just trails claiming little kisses, with the barest hint of teeth, up and up. Consumes Tim's mouth. Fingers come free. And then he's replaced them with something bigger. Bent Tim in half. Doesn't let up.

Leaving Tim pinned. Barely able to breathe. Getting filled again and again, lazy at first but faster and harder as time passes. Nothing but pressure and pleasure and TAKING IT. Feeling claimed. The center of the world. Of his focus. He hasn't ONCE stopped talking. Praising. Tim is so good, taking it so well. Being so good for him.

(It feels like falling in love. Coming home. Jason goes a little bit insane. HAS to find the guy. You don't understand-!)

And really? Tim's hook up streak has been flawless, he thinks. Decides to check out some gaming areas. Maybe do a little Role Play. And? Most bore him. But one game seems fun. He picks staff fighter, for obvious reasons. Stumbles upon a... frankly absurd Beast Master. Dude has a ZOO.

Isn't even fighting. Well, he IS. But... HE fights. The animals wait. Then he goes back to trying to tame the horned bunny rabits.

Obviously Tim has to meet this guy. That's kinda hilarious.

Together, they hunt down the Rare And Elusive Tricorn(tm). Thing is massive and brutal looking. Beast Master dude clearly adores it. Treats it like a baby. But, in order to catch the next creature on his list? They have to wait for the night cycle. Unfortunately, Tim did not know "camp kits" were a thing. So... no, dude. He DOESN'T have a bed roll to wait out here and heal up.

It's either hike back to town or share yours.

Tim offers to be the little spoon, if that helps. Apparently it does. He gets all of 15 minutes of lite napping before he feels a not so little friend come to say hello. Oh~? Beast blusters. It means nothing! Tim's pants are just very form fitting! Desperate, red faced excuses!

And now? Well now Tim's GOTTA.

A hand on his chest, run teasingly dooooown to his belt. Is that SO, Beast Master? Mmmhm? The man chokes on his words. Watches, wide eyed, as Tim leans down ever so slowly, a licks a strip up his length. Swallows him to the root. He makes the most delightfully desperate, needy, sound. Hands spasming at his side, clearly having no idea what to do with them.

By the time Tim is straddling him, slowly lowering himself down onto that thick cock, he's figured it out. Hands trying to drag his hips down faster. Roving over his skin to touch and claim. Tim let's the man flip them. Looming, panting and wild eyed, over him. Shaking like he's overwhelmed, his hands a vice around Tim's hips, bent over like he's moments from crumbling.

The snap of his hips is DESPERATE. Like if he doesn't fuck as deep as he can RIGHT NOW, he'll die. Folding forward to rest his head on Tim's shoulder, panting against his skin, fucking like he's trying to break him. It's so clumsy. Virginal and inexperienced. Completely missing his best spots half the time, focused on chasing his own pleasure.

Tim is the one who has to tease his body. To play with his clit. But... but the way he's so DESPERATE for him? Whining. Nearly sobbing for air? Hips jerking and stuttering? It's good. So, so good. Beast fills him over and over. Clings to him. He logs out wishing he could take that stuffed feeling with him.

(Damian has become a man. But is equal parts frantic and furious with the realization that he can't Take Responsibility for his actions. Where THE FUCK is his Lover?! He needs to FIND THEM! Aaaaaaa-!)

Things are going great! Tim continues to hook up. Unknowingly, with Capes. Because frankly? He has A Type. It leaves horny, horny chaos in its wake. Until! For, you know, No Reason in Particular *cough* Batman FINALLY manages to break in to the HQ of the VR game's offices, get to their mainframe, and download the FULL user base archive.

For Justice reasons, obviously.

To Catch Criminals, of course.

DEFINITELY not to look up one specific user name and trace it back to its user's location, cross reference street addresses, and start working through apartment numbers searching for a VR device. That would be WRONG and they'd never do that.

....... but I mean..... IF THEY DID? Well~ Tim's in for a suprise :D

-🐼🐼🐼

if there's one thing bats will be: its obsessed!!!! bruce, dick, jason, and damian hopelessly pining over a vr hookup only to find out it was tim all along is soo good!!!

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Obligation [Joel x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us

Ship: Joel Miller x you/f!reader who is 52.

Tags/warnings: Throwing up, unplanned pregnancy, angst, Joel doesn't take it well but is soft, implied abortion.

Summary: You've been fucking Joel Miller for a couple of months when you realize that you're pregnant - which you didn't think possible because you thought you were menopausal. How does one get an abortion in Jackson - and how are you going to tell Joel?

Words: 4,267

A/N: For all my old gals out there, as well as those who don't want kids.

My masterlist

I think I may be pregnant.

The realization reverberates through you, bringing with it another wave of nausea. You barely have time to stick your head down the toilet before you throw up. The acrid taste of bile fills your mouth and nose, and tears stream down your cheeks. You grip the toilet seat as you continue retching, your stomach hellbent on emptying itself.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit. No. No, no, no, no, no, how can this be?

What an idiot question. You almost laugh at yourself in the midst of this misery. How does one become pregnant? Well, fucking someone like Joel Miller on a regular basis is a good start. He fucks you deep and good, the bed and his body creaking in unison as he has you pinned underneath him, his broad, heavy body a welcome weight on you, his cock balls deep inside your wet cunt when he finishes and leaves you full even after he's pulled out. His thick, creamy cum dripping out of you when you fall into blissful sleep, sometimes with him staying over.

You know how babies are made, for God's sake. You just didn't count on you still being able to make them. You're past 50,  and your period stopped years ago. This is new to you, you’ve never been pregnant before or even had an interest in trying, but you’re not stupid. You’ve been feeling tired lately, out of sorts, a dull nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach like just before your period, and last night when Joel grabbed your breasts, you almost punched him. Even now they’re so sore even the weight of them hurts.

And now this. Morning sickness. You haven’t eaten anything strange, you were okay last night, and paired up with everything else that has been going on… you must be pregnant.

Thank God Joel isn’t here, you think dimly. He didn't stay over last night, quoting an early morning today to go on patrol. You didn't mind. What you have together is casual, and you're not the one who needs to be cuddled – or coddled, for that matter. You like it when he stays over, but don’t care if he doesn’t. It has worked out well for a few months now.

And now this. You draw a quivering breath, and slump against the wall. It seems like your stomach has settled, so after a couple of minutes, you carefully stand up and bend over the sink, rinsing out your mouth with cold water before splashing some in your face. Straightening your back, you meet your tired gaze in the small mirror above the sink. There is nothing different there, except a lack of energy, but nothing that could reveal the fact that you are carrying a growing clump of cells in your belly.

The thought makes you nauseous again, and you step back to the toilet, expecting to be sick, but there is nothing else to expel, so you flush the toilet, and slowly make your way to the kitchen. Despite being sick, or because of it, you’re hungry, so you take out what provisions you have, and sit down at the table. You usually take your meals in the dining hall, but you don’t want to show yourself right now. God knows what will happen if anyone asks you how you are. And what if you eat, and then throw up again?

Slowly, you gnaw away at a slice of bread with cheese on it, while trying to get yourself together and think over your options. But no matter how you try to think about it, there are no options except one: you have to get rid of it. The reasons are many, but the two most pressing ones are the simple fact that you have never wanted children, and this is not a world into which children should be born, as far as you’re concerned. The more you think about it, the more certain you are. But how in the hell are you going to get an abortion? And while you may not be shy, how the actual fuck are you going to tell the doc that you, a 52-year-old woman, didn’t think to protect yourself? Or that you know your own body so badly that you didn’t even know that you’re, in fact, not post-menopausal?

You stopped crying years ago because tears have no function in this world, but now your humiliation makes your tears well up. You sniffle wetly, put down the piece of bread, and angrily wipe at your eyes.

“Fuck,” you mutter, but there is no stopping the tears. When the first one runs down your cheek, you bang your fist to the table and scream.

“FUCK!”

You let the tears fall, confident that there won’t be too many. When you’re done crying, you finish your meagre breakfast, wipe your face, and get dressed. A day of work awaits you, and maybe if you work hard enough…

You shudder at the thought. You may not have any experience in this department, but you know that your age is a liability. Things could go wrong, and you could die. You don’t want to die. You didn’t survive for all these years just to get taken out by a goddamn unwanted pregnancy.

Fortified by your sheer will to live, you open the front door, and get to work.

During your lunch break, you slip into the Jackson library, which is only just one room in the schoolhouse. The collection consists of whatever has been found during raids, as well as works that the residents have brought with them. The stacks are neat, though, thanks to the teacher who also doubles as a librarian. The collection is divided into main classes, and you quickly find the small section for Biology. There is a middle school book with a chapter on human reproduction, but that’s just the basics. You check the Medicine section, finding nothing. You leave the library, mentally chiding yourself for thinking that you’d find anything there to help you deal with the fact that you’re geriatric, pregnant, and in need of an abortion, with no hope of having one because there are no hospitals, only one doctor who operates out of a simple cabin with barely any equipment or drugs.

Anxiety rises in you again, bringing bile with it. You slink in behind the nearest house and bend over. What little breakfast you had lands before your feet, and you spit away the taste.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the fuck am I going to do?

You take a steadying breath before reappearing back on the street, aiming for your house. So purposeful are you to get away from people, that you don’t notice the tall man next to you before he puts his hand on your arm.

“Hey.”

You start, jerking back before you recognize Joel’s frowning face.

“Sorry,” he apologizes immediately. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, casting your eyes down as you continue your walk. “Just didn’t see you there.”

“Going to lunch?”

“I already ate.”

“All right.” His hand is on your arm again, now effectively stopping you in the middle of the street. He stands in front of you, broad, tall, and smelling of horses.

“You sure you’re okay?” His voice is lower now, so as to not have anyone overhear him. “You look a little pale.”

Joel Miller has been nothing but good to you. He doesn’t talk much, and what little he talks, happens in the darkness after you’ve fucked, when there are no barriers left between the two of you. He keeps to himself, to the girl who was with him when he arrived, to his brother. To you, now. You may not be able to make him laugh as Ellie does, but he saves soft smiles for you. He’s loyal, kind, and helpful. And despite all that, you’re going to lie to him.

“I didn’t sleep well.” You look into his eyes, even giving him the ghost of a smile. “You wore me out, but I still couldn’t sleep.”

His face softens visibly, a smile playing in the corner of his mouth as he leans in and whispers: “I’m sorry, darling. Just have to try harder next time.”

Something flutters in the pit of your stomach, but it doesn’t translate to the usual heaviness between your legs. Instead, you just feel sick for having lied to him.

Joel’s hand travels down your arm to your hand, thick fingers quickly squeezing years before letting go.

“See you later?”

You hear the question, know what it means.

“I think I better get a good night’s sleep?”

Joel flashes a sympathetic grin. “Good idea. See you around.”

You watch him stride towards the dining hall, broad back squared, head held high in constant vigilance, even here within the walls of Jackson.

He’ll figure it out eventually. He’s smart. He’ll know something’s up.

You shake your head to get rid of those unwanted thoughts, and then you return to work.

The next morning starts the same way the previous one did: with your head down the toilet bowl. This time you feel even more sick because you didn’t get much sleep, and when you finally emerge out of your house, you run into Joel, who’s halfway up your porch.

“Morning,” he greets you, then stops as he sees your ashen face. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m coming down with something,” you shrug, stacking another lie upon the previous one.

“Maybe you should stay home, get some rest,” he suggests, and even if he’s wearing his customary frown, you can hear how his voice is laced with concern. Managing a smile, you brush your arm against his.

“I’ll just get antsy. I’ll take it easy today, I promise.”

He’s happy with that and doesn’t question you when you don’t go to communal breakfast.

For the next few days, you do what you can to avoid Joel. You don’t want him to know that you’re sick in the mornings, don’t want him to touch you and find out how tender your breasts are, don’t want to talk to him or even see him because it only reminds you of the solution you inevitably have to find soon. You’re going to have to come clean to the doc at the very least –  unless you try to deal with the situation by yourself somehow. But you have no idea how to do that without hurting yourself, and that’s the last thing you want to do.

Finally, it’s Joel who takes the first step. You have declined his visits for a week when he surprises you by knocking on your door one night. His face is backlit by the porch light that creates a halo around his ragged, curl-prone hair.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m tired,” you mumble, but he speaks your name, and you realize that there is no running away anymore. So, you step to the side to let him in.

He stands before you, arms crossed over his broad chest as he stares at the floor between the two of you. You can’t look at him, so you stare at the same spot. There’s dirt from his boots there, but you don’t care.

“Listen, I…” he starts, clearing his throat. “I know nothing’s been explicitly said here. About us, I mean. It is what it is. But I thought we had a good thing going, and now it seems like you don’t want anything to do with me anymore?”

Your stomach drops, and for a moment you fear that you’ll throw up your dinner as well as you did your breakfast.

“Joel…”

“I just want to know if I did something wrong, so that I can apologize and then leave you be.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you tell him quietly, wrapping your arms around yourself to prevent the slight trembling that’s starting to travel through your body. Your nerves are shot, and you press your lips together to keep your teeth from chattering.

“Then what is it?” Now he’s looking at you. You can feel his eyes burn into you.

Does he have to sound so fucking gentle? It would be easier if he yelled at you, or stormed out, or hadn’t come at all, but you should have known that Joel Miller would be so fucking gentle about it.

You take a deep breath, then finally look up into his eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

Joel stares at you, his face blank. There is just nothing there for several breaths before his brows rise and his arms fall to his sides.

“You’re what?”

“You heard me.”

He still looks at you like he doesn’t understand.

“But… how is that possible?”

You lean your head to one side and give him a come on kind of look. Joel scoffs, scratches his head, then shakes it.

“Aren’t you too old?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You didn’t know?”

You don’t like the hint of accusation in his voice.

“I’m sorry I haven’t seen my healthcare provider in a while!” you snap, now irritated. The change in tone causes in a change in Joel as well.

“If you weren’t sure, then why the hell weren’t you more careful?”

“So it’s my fault?” Your voice is now raised, and your hands come to your hips. “You took one look at me and thought, ‘Oh, this old hag surely has no eggs left’, and then you happily stuck your dick in me, to hell with any other consequences?”

“You should’ve said something!” he growls, now visibly upset. If you weren’t so intimately familiar with just how soft he could be, you’d be afraid of his dark storm cloud demeanor. But you’re not afraid: you’re pissed off.

“I didn’t know,” you articulate. “I haven’t had my period in years, and I’m over fifty! How the fuck could I have known that I could get fucking pregnant!”

“Is it even mine?” Joel retorts, and for some reason, that’s what makes you snap. Before you know it, your palm has connected with his cheek, and you’re pointing at the door.

“Get out. Get the fuck out, now!”

You don’t need to tell him twice: the door slams only a moment after. You’re no longer feeling nauseous, or trembling. You’re just empty inside.

He's back the next morning. You did not expect that, and eye him with apprehension where he stands in the doorway, shame etched into his features.

"Can I please come in?" he asks quietly. You're nauseous again, but you don't want to be a bitch. He's a good one, you know that, despite everything. He deserves a chance.

You let him in, gesture for him to go on through to the kitchen. Following him, you swallow down the nausea, and hope that you won't have to throw up. It would be so humiliating.

Sitting down, you nod to him to do the same. He perches uncomfortably on the edge of his seat, sincere gaze searching for eye contact.

"I'm really sorry," he finally says, his voice low but earnest. "I handled myself poorly."

You give him a Ya think? look but say nothing. He gets the message.

"I didn't expect... or think..." He falls silent, looks down at the scratched surface of the table. You stare him down relentlessly, waiting for him to speak on. He's slowly rubbing the knuckles of his right hand, like they're itchy or in pain.

"I had a daughter, a long time ago. She... I lost her on the first day."

Your heart could break from the choked agony of his voice. Swallowing hard, this time to fight the lump in your throat, not nausea, you reach across the table to put your hand over his.

"Joel..."

He looks up at you, now with a new fire in his eyes.

"It was a long time ago, but I've lived in that pain every day, until Ellie took me out of it. And now... this feels like a second chance."

He raises your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your palm. You stare at him, suddenly wary.

"What do you mean, second chance?"

"To have a child with you."

You stare at him in bewilderment, barely even sure you heard him right. He hurries to elaborate.

"I'll take my responsibility. I'll help you raise the child. You won't have to do it all alone."

You quickly pull your hand out of his, like you burned yourself.

"Joel... I'm not going to keep it?"

Before Joel can say anything, your stomach revolts, and you shoot out of your chair, only just making it to the sink before you throw up. Spitting and turning on the water to wash away the vomit, you cup your hand under the stream of cold water, and drink to eradicate the sour taste in your mouth. Barely having swallowed the water, you throw up again.

Joel's warm body pushes gently against you, and his hand is on the small of your back.

"That's it," he murmurs, "deep breath, you're okay."

"I'm fine," you gasp, trying to breathe through your mouth to avoid the smell that seems to penetrate everything.

"I know," he replies calmly, reaching for a glass and filling it with water before handing it to you. "Here."

You drink carefully, hoping it'll stay down. The cold water chills your entire stomach, but you do feel better.

"Thanks." You glance up at him, hand holding the glass shaking a little. Joel notices, and takes it from you.

"You're welcome. Wanna sit down?"

You nod mutely, and he leads you back to the kitchen table. You can walk by yourself, but it's comforting to have his hand on your back. You're no longer alone in this, and it's a bigger relief than you thought.

You bow your head and hide your face in your hands for a moment, steadying yourself. Hearing the other chair scrape against the floor, you finally look up at Joel.

He looks sad but resigned.

"How far along are you?" he asks quietly. You shrug.

"No idea."

"Probably over six weeks."

You shrug again and draw your hand through your hair.

"I meant what I said, Joel." You try to sound gentler. "I'm not keeping it. I can't. I don't want it."

He casts his eyes down, and for a second you think you see a tremble in his lower lip. Then he sniffles with a grimace and looks up again.

"Okay."

You raise your brows. "Is that all you're going to say?"

"It's not my decision, sweetheart." This term of endearment is new, and you're not sure what to make of it.

"You're not going to try to convince me to keep it?" you dare him, but without vehemence. You're just tired.

Joel shakes his head, but you can see that he has something on his mind.

"Joel?" you prompt, and he finally sighs deeply.

"Are you sure you won't regret it?" His voice is eerily toneless, like he's trying his best not to sound accusatory. You rub your forehead with both palms in an attempt to suppress the headache that you can feel building up behind your frontal lobe.

"I've never wanted kids," you tell him in the same, dispassionate voice. "Not when I was younger, and surely not now. Not in this world, not at my age. Not at all."

He flinches, like your words hurt him, but then he nods solemnly.

"Okay. What are you going to do?"

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, because the question faced you with the fact that you have absolutely no idea how to deal with this.

"I don't know."

Your voice breaks, and the first tears well up in your eyes.

"Fuck." The tears spill down your cheeks, and you hide your face from Joel, embarrassed by this sudden display of desperation.

"Hey..."

He's around the table in a heartbeat, crouching by your chair and collecting you into his arms.

"It's okay, sweetheart, we'll figure it out. We'll talk to the doc."

The tears multiply, and you sob audibly from sheer relief of having someone else take charge. You haven't lived with the knowledge of your condition for barely a week, but it has weighed you down more than you knew. And now Joel knows, and he is telling you that it's going to be all right.

"I - just - feel - so - stupid!" you whimper between the sobbing, and Joel strokes his hand down your back.

"Not as stupid as I feel. It's okay, I promise you it'll be okay."

You draw a deep, quivering breath, and square your shoulders. They feel lighter, and you wipe your eyes and cheeks before smiling weakly at Joel.

"Thank you."

"I got you," he smiles back, a dimple appearing in his cheek. You haven't seen it before. It feels like a promise.

Carl, Jackson's doctor, is a GP, but has had to deal with a variety of emergencies over the years. He doesn't bat an eye when you, seated next to Joel, tell him of your predicament, and that you want a termination. He asks for a urine sample, handing you a cup that you, frowning, take with you into the bathroom, do your business, and leave it on the counter, as per Carl's instructions. Coming out of the bathroom, Carl asks you to come back in the afternoon. You agree on a time before you and Joel step out. He squeezes your hand before you part to go to work.

Returning later to Carl's office, you find out that you are, with a seventy percent accuracy, indeed pregnant.

"It's the best test I have," Carl explains. "If a thin film forms over the urine, pregnancy is likely. If not, there is no pregnancy."

"And it couldn't be anything else?" Joel asks, surprising you. Carl looks pained for a moment, and you realize what a difficult question that is. Your hand moves on top of Joel's on the arm rest.

"Given the symptoms; breast tenderness, morning sickness, light cramping... I can't think of anything else to explore."

 "How do we stop it?" you want to know. "Can we even?"

"A surgical abortion is technically possible," Carl nods, and you feel your shoulders relax. "I've done it a couple of times before I came to Jackson, even."

"Well, good."

"Is it safe?" Joel's voice seems tight. "Is it doable here, in these conditions?"

Carl hesitates for a moment before leaning forward to rest his forearms on his desk.

"The procedure itself doesn't take longer than fifteen minutes, but our conditions are, as you probably understand, not ideal. I can sterilize the equipment, but our biggest concern, apart from post-surgical infections, is pain relief."

He lets the information sink in before he adds: "I simply do not have the means to sedate you or give you the pain relief that you are going to need. I wish I could tell you this in any other way, but I can't: It's going to hurt a lot."

You swallow tightly. Joel's thumb passes over the back of your hand.

"Okay," you tell him in a small voice. "I don't have a choice. I'm not going to have a kid in this world. There's no way. We have to do it."

Later, after an extensive talk with the doc, you step out onto the main street of Jackson, Joel right behind you. Without words, the two of you slowly walk towards your house. Not until reaching it, do you sit down on the porch steps. Joel sits down next to you, shoulder to shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"That's a hard question to answer," you sigh, rubbing your forehead. Joel sighs as well.

"Yeah."

You sit in silence and watch people go by. Ellie passes further away together with a friend, waving hello to you but not coming over to chat. You and Joel wave back.

"What does she know about us?" you ask quietly. Joel grunts.

"She knows we hang out, that I like your company, but I haven’t told her that we… you know.”

"I’m sure she knows. She's a smart girl."

"That she is."

You wet your lips. "Listen, Joel... I just want to say... thank you, I guess. For being there for me."

"Of course," he replies softly. "And I really am sorry for how I reacted."

"I'm sorry for slapping you."

"I deserved it."

"Kind of." You shoot a quick grin at him, and he grins back.

"Don't think about that," you shake your head. "And I want you to know that you don't have to be involved in what comes next."

"I'm not going to - "

"You wouldn't mind having a baby," you cut him off, "so I'm not going to have you watch me take one away."

"It's not a baby yet," he reminds you pragmatically. "And I said we'd figure this out together. I'll be there, every step of the way. I'll make sure you get through this."

He speaks with a quiet, gentle confidence that makes you want to cry again. You never knew how much you have longed for someone like him.

"You don't have an obligation," you try one last time. Joel turns towards you and cups the back of your head with one large hand.

"I want to be obliged to you, sweetheart."

He leans forward to let his lips brush over yours.

"Let me," he whispers, and you wrap your arms around him, accepting both his offer and his kiss.

[ellaa-writes]

inspired by this, enjoy :) (unedited)

the bell above the door alerted you to someone entering you small little studio. It was right in the heart of downtown, use to be a bake shop. The smell of fresh bread still can be smelled if you pressed your nose up against the wall. You wiped at your furrowed brow, taking a step back to look at your latest painting. It was all wrong, you couldn't get the shading right. You abandoned your pallet and brush on the stool next to you, making sure you didn't have paint on your face as you walked to the front.

Usually Horace man's the front but he just stepped out for a smoke, leaving you alone in the studio for the next 15 mins. As you emerged from the back you looked around the small space. Not only do you sell original art work but you also sell local art work as well. It was hard to miss him, with the way he towered over everything around him. His back was turned to you and you thanked the heavens it was. You never hesitated to great someone before, your hands started to shake with nerves before you clenched them closed.

His back rippled before he turned his head back in your direction. You smiled quickly, rubbing the sweat from your palms onto your painters apron.

"Hi, sorry for the wait. Is there anything I could do for you.. Sir?" the sir came out hesitantly and nearly a whisper. His green eyes narrowed at you, taking in your form. They traveled down to your waist and back up, locking onto your own. His face softened as he flashed a smile.

"I'm in town for the weekend, thought I'd take a walk around before I saw a sign for an art studio. Do you run this place?" his voice had a thick accent but you were still able to understand him.

"Oh no, that would be Horace. He just stepped out for a minute. I just work in the back most of the time." you spoke lowly, coming around the counter to stand in front of him.

His eyes lit up at the full sight of you, your shoes were covered in many different colors on paint, fresh and old blending together. The warmth in his eyes shifted to something you couldn't quiet make out, but it did make the hairs on your arm stand straight as a small shudder rippled through your body.

"Could you tell me about this piece?" you had to step forward more has he was blocking the painting he was referring to. As it came into veiw and you could feel the heat radiating off his body the closer you got.

It was of the lake, with the mountains in the back. A soft glow from the stars bouncing off the calm waters. You painted in about 3 years ago, took you weeks too but mostly because it was mid December when you decided to trek out to the lakeshore. The black rocks surrounding the lake weren't kind to your feet those days.

"Um... sorry what was the question?" and this was exactly way you stayed in the back. You always struggled to communicate with others.

"The painting, is the artist still around?" he asked as his eyes scanned other paintings.

"Oh yes she is." you shifted from him, you need some distance to think properly. You walked over to a stack of painting, rummaging through them.

"Is it possible I could speak to... Her?" unbeknownst to you his eyes were trained in your backside. Watching as you bent over to look through the stack of painting before finding the one you were looking for.

"Sorry, speak to who?" you asked as you set the new painting next to the one he was looking at.

"The artist who made this." he pointed at the landscape in front of him.

"Oh, well. Your already speaking to her." you avoided his eyes as you looked over the twin paintings. "This one here" you pointed to the new one. "Was painted part summer, same area but different season." looking at the pink sky reflecting off of the water. You could still feel the warm breeze flowing around you.

"They are beautiful, the brush strokes ever so slight. Makes the water come alive." his voice was right behind you, you could feel his breath fanning against your ear as he leaned down to take a better look at them both.

"You have a real talent. How long have you been painting?" the bell dinged again as Horace came in, the slight smell of tobacco filling the space. You shoot him a glance as he takes in the giant.

"Sorry, didn't hear this damn bell. Been meaning to get it upgraded." Horace crossed the space and gave you a get back to work look.

"It was nice meeting you, uh-" you couldn't recall if he told you his name or not. "König, please call me König." his smile didn't quiet reach his eyes but it was big and gummy. You left the two men to make small talk. Horace was ways good at selling, even better at getting more than the asking price.

You focused back on your discarded painting. Standing back from it, looking at it like a lost map. The sound of low muffled voices wafted in, the sound of Horace too happy of a voice and the ding of the cash register. His footsteps entered into your space as he grabbed a packing box and slipped back out.

The chime of the door altering you to the departure of Mr. König.

After you finished up what you could, the sun setting behind the mountains. You gathered your belongings, slipping your purse over your shoulders.

"Horace?" you called out to the older man, and he rounded the corner to bid you far well. "Here" he reached out his hand, a small black card rested between his pointer and middle finger. "What's this?" you asked. Grabbing it and looking at the gold text.

Art Dealer

"Sold those two painting for well above the worth they are. Finally getting my moneys worth outta ya." Horace was a rough man, having taken over his father's operation begrudgingly.

"See you tomorrow!" you called out as he disappeared from view. The walk back to your small cottage wasn't far, and at this time of year the air before dusk was crisp.

You walked along the side walk, unknowingly being tailed by a sleek black car.

[hauntedwitch04]

Fallen angel

Priest!Remus Lupin x reader

Words: about 1.8k words

Warnings: smut, corruption kink, swearing, kinda voyeurism, not proofreaded

Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 14: Innocence

Remus knows it is wrong, but sinning has never been sweeter.

You came for Mass as you did every Sunday, together with your family. Remus always took a few minutes to look at you as you sat in the front row, in your usual cream and powder-pink dress, your little white shoes and the pink headband in your hair. If he hadn't known better, the young priest would certainly have thought you were an angel.

Throughout the mass he tried never to look at you, knowing that he would then have to hide a very obvious erection that would be very difficult to explain.

You are his forbidden dream and his most terrible perversion.You, with your air so graceful and your soul so good, were the one who would make even a saint sin, and Remus is convinced of this. There is no mortal soul according to him who would not think of your lips, your breasts, your legs in a sinful way.

Once the sacred service was over and the faithful were greeted, Remus headed for the confessional, knowing that a couple of people would be coming in seeking absolution. Usually he was not the one to hear confessions, but Father James, who, however, due to commitments could not do so today, so he had asked Remus to do so. At that thought he could not help but smile, thinking how he could ever grant absolution, when at night she often dreamed of you, as he fucked you, as you lay naked on top of the church altar.

Remus has been sitting in the confessional for a while, listening to people's sins and assuring them that God would forgive them if they showed a willingness to absolve themselves, when he decides to leave since there are other things to do and it has been several minutes since anyone came in after the last one who had come in, a man who had cheated on his wife with his sister.

The moment he is about to leave that cramped space, however, he hears your voice caressing the air.

"Father James, I should confess." You say in a voice slightly louder than a whisper.

Remus knows it is wrong the shiver that runs down his spine as he feels the sensation of desire growing inside him. He sits back as he wonders whether to tell the truth or to lie and pretend to be his friend, knowing that this would only be the beginning of the series of sins he would be thinking and doing, moments from now, imagining you kneeling beside him.

"Go ahead my child." Whispers the young priest as he imitates his colleague's voice.

"Father, I have sinned. The devil has taken me by the hand and led me down an evil road." You comment as you wring your hands.

"What have you ever done that is so terrible? You are an angel on earth, you cannot disappoint the Lord." Remus comments, as he feels his pants getting tighter and tighter, in imagining your lips inches away from his lap, separated only by a thin perforated wooden panel.

"I've been thinking about so many wrong things." You pause for a moment and then ask a question. "Father, if I tell you, you will never tell anyone right?"

"Of course angel, no one but me, you and Our Lord will ever know what you are going to tell me." Remus says, trying to reassure you; you nod and go on.

"Father, the other night I had a dream-a sex dream. I was-I was with this boy and he was touching my whole body, then his hands stopped...right there." You say, and Remus immediately closes his eyes, throwing his head back, praying himself not to come at that same moment in his pants.

"It was probably all because of that movie my friend showed me where there's a sex scene, since I've never been intimately with any man, but here's that's not the worst part."

"Oh no?" Remus asks, instinctively, as he feels his self-control slipping through his fingers as he puts his hand on the button that fastens his pants.

"No, because then when I woke up...here I didn't really know what I was doing, but I felt that I was very wet in my underwear and I didn't understand why."

"God child, what have you done?" Remus comments under his breath, not thinking you could hear him as he pulls his cock out of his pants and begins to massage it, since by now the erection was becoming too painful.

"Yes father, I know I sinned a lot, I know because then I did something I'm very ashamed of. I touched myself down there, and-and I think I gave myself pleasure." You confess, your voice almost on the verge of tears. Remus tightens his hand around your cock as he takes a deep breath and stops his movements, knowing that if he continued he would come in seconds.

"What exactly did you do my dear? How did you touch yourself?" Remus asks in a rough voice as he hears you fidgeting on the other side of the grate.

"But Father, I would sin one more time if I repeated it out loud." You comment frightened, as you feel your white panties getting wet again, under the pink skirt you wear.

"No my child. God, and I, need to know what exactly you have done, to absolve your sins, of course." You try to explain Remus convincingly. A few seconds of stalemate pass before you respond.

"You are right Father, I am so foolish. I'll tell you what I did then." You say, in a tone of conviction, before being interrupted again by the young priest.

"I think though if you just told it you might forget some things, and we definitely don't want something like that to happen right?"

"No Father, absolutely not. What do you recommend I do then?" You ask eager to please the priest.

"Why don't you try to do again what you did that night, too. Try touching yourself the same way you gave yourself pleasure as you tell me about it, try thinking about who you were thinking about that night as you came on your fingers." Remus says, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as hesitantly a hand immediately goes to the hem of your skirt. You spend a few seconds assessing the situation and then decide to do as Father advises, so you bring your right hand inside your white panties, and with one finger you brush your pussy, feeling how wet it is. This slight gesture of yours makes you moan, and Remus can't help but imagine you under him as you make all those lovely sounds.

"That's right, keep touching yourself while you tell me how you sinned bimbo." Remus says, taking his erection back in his right hand as some pre-cum slides from the tip to the base. The sensitive tip of his cock feels the drafts of air coming in through the small door in front of him, and he can't help but think those are the correspondence of your labored breathing.

"I put my hand in my panties, and with my middle finger I began to caress my..."

"Say it my child, don't be ashamed, it's more than natural."

"About my pussy. Slowly I started to move my finger around, to see if it really feels as much pleasure as it said in the movie, and that's how I found out that it does, but it takes time. Then after a few minutes of touching her, I tried to stick a finger inside."

"Did you like it?"

"Not so much at first, then after a few times I was going back and forth, like he did in the movie, I started to like him a lot, however I couldn't get to the pleasure." You continue, while touching yourself in the same way you are telling it, however the pleasure this time comes much faster than the first time, as you already feel on the verge of orgasm.

"And how did you get to orgasm baby?" Remus asks, as he knows he too is getting closer and closer to reaching the pinnacle of pleasure.

"I imagined it was someone else doing those things on me." You confess shyly between moans. Your hand is completely wet, and your fingers are also cramping, but you don't care.

"And who were you thinking of?"

"To Father Remus. "You whisper in a low voice as a wave of embarrassment washes over you. "Father James please absolve me, please remove this stain from my soul, I cannot live knowing I will end up in the clutches of Mephistopheles." You pray as your fingers quicken.

"Cum. And I will absolve you my child, come now my little fallen angel." Remus says, before coming himself with powerful spurts, in his own hand, as he imagines you convulsing after your orgasm, your plump lips wide open as you moan and your sinful chest poking out of your dress.

At the same time you come around your fingers, moaning and rolling your eyes in pleasure as you feel every muscle in your body contract and relax without you having control over anything.

"Father am I absolved?" You ask with bated breath, as you adjust your skirt, and try to make yourself presentable again. Remus struggles to catch his breath too, especially as he thinks back to the final confession you made: you think of him when you have to give yourself pleasure.

Part of him would like to console you by saying that he is not just thinking about the other person to get to orgasm, but knowing that this is not the case, he decides to adopt another technique.

"Of course my dear, no sin stains your candid soul anymore, just a piece of advice. Just the next one I advise you to go and report these kinds of sins and problems directly to Father Remus, he is a very open-minded man who specializes in the kind of problem you have child."

"What is my problem, Father?" You ask fearfully.

"I think it's really a sex demon, angel." At Remus's words you wince, but he immediately heartens you. "Don't worry baby, he's very good and will know how to help you, but it's important that you don't tell anyone about your condition, okay?"

"Of course Father James, thank you for the advice, I will go right away and talk to Father Remus tomorrow."

"Good, very good my sweet fallen angel." He says, before saying goodbye and hearing you leave.

TAGLIST

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[yanderes-galore]

Hi! May I request a Yan X-Tale!Chara concept?

Thanks!!!

　- 🪷🪼

Sure! Wasn't exactly sure what to call him but I hope you enjoy this :) I recently started Season 2 of Underverse. Take this as an AU (Ironic) where Chara is an adult for both Season 1 and 2 (I ALSO JUST LOVE HIS ADULT DESIGN IN SEASON 2, HELLO? I WANT TO SEE MORE?) This mostly just focuses on behavior anyways.

Sorry if plot is a bit messy, I wasn't sure what even in the story you wanted me to focus on so I just... let my mind wander. I got too excited about writing him I didn't make it full coherent so... here's pure brainrot (?)

Yandere! X-Tale/X-Event! Chara Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Sadism, Trauma, Clingy behavior, Possessive/Protective behavior, Kidnapping, Attachment issues, Dubious companionship/relationship.

Chara certainly wishes for a time where he could be happy and peaceful again.

Despite what he's done, he ultimately wanted to make one true timeline where people are happy.

It doesn't excuse what he's done... Part of him knows that.

His tale is a tragic one and your first few meetings certainly aren't the best.

Chara is used to betrayal, so letting anyone nice near him is difficult.

Maybe you're trying to help Ink, Sans, Fell, and Swap?

Chara may have met you when he was still a phantom with Cross.

That or maybe you were also part or his old timeline, reborn into something new?

There's many possibilities of how you could've met him.

What's true for all of them... is he begins to cling to you.

Maybe deep down he wants to think he has a chance of being better.

Or maybe he just wants to toy with you like all the rest.

Your kindness makes him feel bitter... Yet at the same time he knows he craves it.

You may not like him... But in some way he likes you.

Perhaps you remind him of simpler times.

Maybe you yourself are even a human, one who wanted to help all those copies go home.

He knows you want to help....

However, this whole issue is bigger than you could ever imagine.

Helping him only puts you in danger... Especially when X-Gaster is free.

There's an infinite amount of possibilities for how you can meet, this is the multiverse after all.

Chara's intrigue starts with Cross.

Even as a phantom he notices you and takes interest.

He sticks to his goal... steal code from timelines... appease Nightmare...

But even Nightmare notices the emotions that stir within Chara.

He can tell the human wants to reach out to you in some way.

Perhaps you can be a reward.

When Chara first gets close to you, overpowering Cross as much as he can, he isn't sure how to express his interest.

So he ends up toying with you, body often glitching between that of the skeleton he hosts and himself.

He comes off sadistic, interrogating you about your own timeline.

Occasionally he probably drops hints of interest, although with his grin you don't know if it's genuine.

Another time he meets you is when he's utilizing US! Chara's soul.

Using a human soul he's more stable.

His true form shows and he's often distracted by you.

He hates that you huddle so close to Ink... the traitor.

While he torments US! Sans + Papyrus, he'd probably try to strike up conversation with you or something.

He openly admits his interest at this point..

He offers you a proposition... stop trusting Ink and come with him to start a new universe.

Regardless on if you accept or not, he'd probably try to take you anyways.

Writing for X-Chara gets confusing around the time X-Gaster comes into being.

So for now, let's say eventually X-Chara takes you back to his universe.

With US! Chara's soul, he manages to hold his form enough to communicate with you.

Chara probably reflects some of the mercy feel in his soul towards you, much to Nightmare's distaste.

He may even tell you his story, he isn't sure if he's asking for sympathy or some sort of opinion...

But you seem to want to help him, don't you?

With a Human Soul, he can finally use OVERWRITE again.

He could try and use it on you to make his perfect life.

Especially since you've managed to plague his mind all this time.

Chara may even admit his hopes to you.

He wants to make a timeline where everyone can have their Happy Ending.

Including you and him.

Yes... he's done bad things... but it's for the greater good, no?

So... trust him... he can make you happy.

If you don't comply, well...

He can make it work since you drive him downright insane.

Chara isn't sure what to do with these emotions he has towards you.

It's been too damn long since he even had these....

Chara would do his best to make you compliant in creating something new with him...

New emotions... a new universe... new everything.

Although, even now X-Gaster manages to ruin what he was doing.

When Ink releases X-Gaster and Chara's killed before being revived...

I imagine Chara would want to make a deal to stay compliant.

Sure... in 0.4's Epilogue he sees all his friends and family again.

But there's one thing he wants more than anything.

"Bring them to me."

The request surprises X-Gaster.

Chara's emotions bring him distraction... yet it intrigues him that he wants you of all things.

His brother's back... his universe can come back...

But he wants an anomaly such as you?

I think it would be interesting if X-Gaster complied on this deal and targeted you.

Anything to keep the brat quiet.

One way or another, Chara plans to involve you in his new life.

You will obtain perfect happiness in a perfect universe together...

Even if he has to rely on X-Gaster right now to get it.

[cetaitlaverite]

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

link to the masterlist is here updates will probably be slower after this one - sorry, but thank you for the continued love!!

11. The Idea of Romance

Freddie found it difficult navigating the sea of people in the officers’ club. When she’d left the base had been empty, all but one crew unaccounted for. In the week she’d been away replacement crews had arrived and she herself had brought back with her a whole new gaggle of wireless operators. Suddenly, the base was alive with people again. Freddie just didn’t recognise most of them.

She had a hard time trying to find Millie. She wanted so badly to just talk to her best friend but now she had hordes of brand new w/ops fighting for her attention, calling her ‘ma’am’ and asking her questions. Some of the new boys, new airmen and new German-speaking wireless ops, kept asking her to dance. She hadn't been asked to dance since Rosie had arrived - all of the old crews had known her well enough to know to steer clear of the subject.

The music was loud and Millie, Freddie found, being incredibly rude by not paying any attention to the conversation she had been dragged into, was at the bar. Drinking herself silly, just as they had done together on Freddie’s last night before training.

She’d feared that this might become a habit.

“Excuse me,” Freddie said hastily, exiting the conversation even though one of the new airmen was mid-sentence. She pushed her way through throngs of people, ignoring them when they tried to stop her to talk, until she was finally at Millie’s side. “Mils -”

“Freddie!” Millie greeted her, bursting with all the excitement of a puppy. “I was looking for you but I couldn’t find you so I came to get another drink.”

Freddie smiled at her kindly, hiding her grimace at the way Millie was slurring. “How many have you had so far, Mils?”

“I think this many,” Millie said, lifting a hand to hold up four fingers.

Freddie didn’t believe her. “Beers?” she asked.

“Whiskeys,” Millie corrected. “Beer isn’t strong enough, Fred.” She gave Freddie a meaningful look, as if to say she was disappointed she’d had to explain that, before turning back to the bar to stare down the barman in the hopes her scrutiny would make him serve her quicker.

“Do you think maybe you should slow down?” Freddie asked warily. “We don’t want you to end up like we all did last time.”

Millie brushed this comment aside. “I’m fine.”

Freddie sighed. “Mils -”

“I said I’m fine,” Millie snapped. “Or I will be, when Atley eventually lets me order another fucking drink!” Her voice rose in volume and agitation until she knew Atley, working the bar, could hear her. 

“Coming right up,” he said. His glance at Millie was wary and intimidated. It made Freddie wonder how many times this had happened since she’d been away. Had Millie been drinking herself into oblivion every night for the week Freddie had been training?

“Mils,” Freddie said as gently as she could manage, laying a hand on Millie’s shoulder, “drinking won’t make anything better.”

“It does,” Millie disagreed, shrugging her hand off, refusing to look at her. “When I drink I don’t feel it as much.”

“You can’t drink until he comes back -”

“I’ll drink until the end of my fucking life if I have to,” Millie cut across her coldly. “If that’s how long it takes for John to come back then that’s what I’ll do.”

Freddie’s heart was aching because she knew this pain and even still didn’t know how to stop it. She’d tried everything when Daniel had gone down. She’d turned to cigarettes but been dissatisfied with the short-term hit, had turned to drinking but it had only made her weepier, had only made her miss him more. She’d turned to driving stolen military jeeps as fast as she could down country lanes, to staying awake for days on end until her body forced her unconscious, had managed to break into the airfield infirmary at one point and had injected herself with morphine just to dull the ache. 

But none of it had worked. All of it had made her feel like a shell of herself. Every time the thrill subsided she’d be left feeling empty, confronted with a darker world than the one she’d been trying to escape.

“It won’t help,” Freddie insisted, leaning on the bar to avoid being overheard. If Millie wasn’t going to accept gentle words then Freddie would have to give her blunt ones. “You can drink yourself into unconsciousness as many times as you like but it won’t change the ache you feel. It won’t bring him back or make you love him less.”

“You think you know all about this, Fred,” Millie said, pushing up from the bar and knocking back the glass of whiskey Atley had placed in front of her in one go, “just because you lost a boyfriend too. But you don’t. It’s different for me than it is for you.”

Freddie took a stumbling step away from her. “How do you figure?” she asked, her hands shaking at her sides. Her cheeks were burning and her eyes were stinging. Millie may as well have just slapped her across the face.

“Because you found Rosie,” Millie told her lowly, finally turning to face her. “You’ve moved on and I won’t be able to.”

Freddie’s jaw fell open. She took another stumbling, instinctive step backwards before changing her mind and stepping back in close. “I know you’re only saying this because you’re drunk,” she said, her hands shaking so viciously she had to curl them into fists, “and because you’re hurting, so I’ll tell you this once and pray you never give me a reason to say it again: fuck you, Millie. Fuck you. Don’t speak to me like that. I’m trying to look after you the way you always have for me. Don’t punish me for my efforts.”

She gave Millie no time to reply, just turned on her heel and stormed away. 

Freddie felt like running away. She felt like hiding. She felt like taking Meatball and traipsing all the way off base until she could sit with him in a field and listen to herself think, until she could cry and be sure no one was going to ask her about it.

But that would do no one any good, especially not herself. She’d grown up since she’d turned to escaping as a form of self-defence. 

“Rosie,” Freddie said. She was trying her best to mask the wobbling of her voice as she stopped by the table he was sitting at with his crew. He looked up at her instantly, the moment he’d heard her voice, eyebrows furrowed at whatever he found in her eyes. “Can we go?”

Without replying verbally, Rosie immediately stood from his table and led her out the door. He didn’t spare time to say his goodbyes, didn’t finish off the pint of beer which had still been half-full in front of him. No questions asked, he took the lead and guided her out, a hand resting protectively on the small of her back and a stormy expression preventing anyone from bothering her this time. 

Once outside, Freddie could finally breathe. The night air filled her lungs as she gasped for breath, calming the stinging in her eyes.

“Come on,” Rosie said gently, taking her hand to guide her away from the door.

Freddie held on tight to him, wrapped her other hand around his arm to feel him close, tried to settle her breathing and ease the ache in her throat. She didn’t want to cry about this. Millie hadn’t meant what she’d said. Millie needed patience and Freddie would give it to her. She would be prepared for the attack next time. This time, she just needed to calm down.

Rosie led Freddie into one of the men’s huts - his hut, she presumed, which was mercifully empty - and over to a bed in the corner. The position of the bed was exactly the same as her new bed, the one she’d chosen today - furthest from the door and the bathroom - and she smiled as she sniffled, following him over. 

“Why don’t you sit down, alright, Fred?” Rosie suggested gently, guiding her by the hand until she was close enough to the bed to sit down on it. 

She did, wiping at the slight moisture beneath her eyes, unavoidable even though she’d won the fight against her tears. 

Rosie started rummaging through his footlocker and Freddie watched him idly, thinking distantly about the lemonade she’d been drinking from and had misplaced at some point amidst the confusion of conversation. She wanted that lemonade now. Maybe she’d go back and get another one once she’d settled herself down.

“Aha,” Rosie muttered in triumph as he came upon what he’d been searching for. He stood to his full height, hiding whatever it was behind his back, and came to crouch in front of her. “Now,” he began, smiling just slightly up at her, “it’s not much, but there wasn’t a gift shop at the flak house, so this is the best I could do.”

Freddie giggled quietly, nodding in acceptance of his disclaimer, before he produced a pilot’s crusher cap from behind his back.

“A pilot’s hat!” Freddie exclaimed, smiling as she accepted it from him. “Where did you get it?” She knew it wasn’t his - his was sitting beside her on his bed. 

“Found it on a bench on the grounds,” Rosie explained, chuckling slightly, just a little bit awkward. “I figured if the guy who owns it ain’t gonna look after it I know someone who will.”

“I will!” Freddie assured him, sharing a smile over the top of her new hat as she turned it over in her hands. “Thank you, Rosie. Really.”

“Of course,” he replied, taking the hat from her hands and placing it gently on her head. “See,” he said as he came back to crouching before her, “I bet you wear it better than he did, too.”

Freddie grinned, smiling shyly and shrugging in response to his subtle compliment.

Rosie gazed at her for a beat, his eyes searching her face, before his smile turned softer. “You feeling a little better?”

Freddie nodded.

“You wanna tell me what happened back there?”

She drew in a deep breath, nodding more to encourage herself than in response to him, before she confessed quietly, “Millie and I had an argument.”

Rosie frowned. “What about?” He’d never known the two of them to be anything other than thick as thieves. They were always either attached at the hip or gushing about each other, each other’s closest confidant and greatest hero.

“She’s developing a drinking problem,” Freddie said quietly, meeting Rosie’s eyes and staying there. “Because of Brady. She was already clearly drunk and only ordering more so I tried to get her to stop. And she told me that I don’t understand what it’s like for her because it’s different for me, what I went through with Daniel.”

“Why does she think it’s different for you?” Rosie asked softly.

Freddie hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip as she considered this next confession. They had been Millie’s words, but would it be presumptuous of her to repeat them as though she agreed? She and Rosie were friends, nothing more, but there was something about their relationship which wasn’t, had never been, strictly platonic. It had been clear to both of them for a while that Rosie was following Freddie’s lead and going at her pace, and once she was ready to go ahead then he would make the move.

Even still, giving voice to it would feel awkward. They had never spoken about their attraction to one another.

Freddie sighed and let it spill out of her. She was tired of holding things in. “Because I have you and she said she won’t be able to move on.”

Rosie and Freddie watched each other closely, each wondering what they should say next. Rosie was fighting hard to force himself not to ask whether Freddie thought she had him the same way she’d had Daniel, whether what was between them was developing into romance, but he knew it wasn’t the time. Freddie, on the other hand, was fighting not to try to cover her tracks, to dismiss the idea and destroy all the progress they’d made. It was instinctive to reject the idea of romance even when it was there. But it would do neither of them any good.

Instead, Freddie forced herself to talk about her feelings. She never had been much good at it but Rosie made her want to try. “It made me feel so… dismissed,” she admitted. “She knows all about how I’ve been struggling, clearly still struggle even now, with what happened to Daniel. She’s my best friend - she’s the one who is always, always there for me when I break down about it. So for her to say that it’s different because I’ve moved on…” She took in a stuttering deep breath, willing herself to calm down. “It felt like a slap in the face that she thinks I’ve forgotten Daniel just because I’ve met you.”

Rosie nodded, coming to sit beside her on the bed as he considered his response. “I can understand why that would hurt you so much,” he told her softly. “And Millie needs to apologise. But she loves you and I know her well enough to know she didn’t mean it.”

“She shouldn’t have said it,” Freddie argued.

Rosie nodded, watching her struggling against the quivering of her bottom lip. “I know. And if she says it again we’ll have a problem. But she’s hurting, and you’re the person she feels safe enough with to let it out.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“No,” Rosie agreed. “But did you have much of a hold on your actions after you first lost Daniel?”

Freddie cracked a tiny smile at this, turning until she could press her face into Rosie’s bicep. “No,” she admitted.

“There you go.”

Freddie laughed quietly into his arm. “Rosie?”

“Sweetheart?”

“Can I sit in your lap?”

He grinned - she didn’t see it but she knew he was grinning - and shifted to lift her into his lap instead of replying.

Freddie moved around until she got comfortable, removed her new hat and placed it beside her, then tucked her face into that safe place beneath his chin where she felt like no one could get her. “I like it here,” she told him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mh-hm,” she hummed her agreement. “Feels safe.”

Rosie didn’t say anything to this, just pressed a gentle kiss to her head.

They sat in silence for a while, each thinking different things, before Freddie sighed and sat up until she could look into Rosie’s face. “I had a glass of lemonade which I left back there,” she informed him.

Rosie laughed. “You wanna go back and get it?”

Freddie nodded.

“Alright,” he decided.

“But I want to sit outside,” she added. “I don’t want all my new w/ops asking me questions, or all the new airmen asking me to dance, or to run into Millie. I want to sit with the stars.”

“Alright,” Rosie agreed once more.

“Will you sit with the stars with me?”

“Absolutely.”

“We’ll have to pick up Meatball first,” Freddie went on. “I feel bad that I left him for so long.”

“Meatball is very welcome to join us,” Rosie assured her.

Freddie grinned. “Oh, I wasn’t asking for your permission. I was just preparing you in case he tries to sit in your lap.”

Rosie tipped his head back and laughed. “Right,” he conceded. “What’s that thing people say about dogs adopting the traits of their owners?”

Freddie let out a loud, abrupt laugh and hit him lightly on the shoulder. “Shut up!”

“What? It’s not true?” Rosie teased, his eyes flicking down to where she was clearly still sitting in his lap.

Freddie rolled her eyes. “No, it’s true. It’s just impolite to say it.”

Rosie smirked. “Sorry, Fred.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Me too. I’ve let you get entirely too comfortable. I’m wearing the trousers around here, Rosenthal.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rosie acquiesced with a joking salute.

Freddie patted his curls, just because she wanted to. One day, she thought, she’d be brave enough to run her fingers through them. Today, at least she got to touch them. “Good,” she approved. “Now let’s go. I want to sit on the grass before the sprinklers get us again.”

[yuukei-yikes]

haruka and takane are literally said to be experimented on but we never know what exactly happens to them and rly they didnt Have to get experimented on to get to where they end up on, just killed. but also its so much more fun to imagine they do get experimented on. my hc is since their red eyes case is kinda unique the experimenting bit also plays a part in the way saeru cheats the system to get 2 snakes out in 1 day. cuz technically ONE snake should be out by killing two people. for 2 snakes to get out you’d need 4 people!!

also something i never got is HOW is ayano able to open the daze by herself and keep one snake when it’s supposed to be when 2 people die. all 3 of their cases are a little ridiculous or i just personally dont get it. i take pride in understanding kagepro but ayano’s thing is something i never quite got lol. HOW DO ALL 3 GET A SNAKE IF THEY DIE ALONE(?) i thought maybe the daze opens for ayano bc haruka and takane’s deaths already opened it that day?? we dont rly know if ayano dies before or after haruka and takane after all. erm. 1 million thoughts in tags like always

[nkogneatho]

"𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊"

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊

—cw: lactation kink, mentions of pregnancy, dirty, nasty, depraved stuff, vaginal sex, period oral mention, monsterfucking in kuna's (sukuna's is way too dirty), dry humping, drinking breast milk obv, not proofread (this is too long and i have an event tomorrow)

—a/n: i have officially lost it. is it obvious i have lost it? idk if this is the best or the worst thing you will ever read but this is very depraved and nasty. like...aaaaaaaaaahh okay i am normal. i put my big titties non existent breast milk into this so please read it all and i hope you enjoy.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

— satoru is the man who is always up for something new. especially, if it involves pleasing you because he's a good husband and that's good what husbands do. he knows how to pull out the naughty parts out of you, but he had to work his way up.

"I am just saying. It helps. Believe me," your husband was arguing with you.

"Cut it out, Toru. I am not letting you suck my boobs."

"But why?"

"Because it's gross and weird." The moment those words left your mouth, he audibly gasped.

"Did you just call our baby's food gross?" You rolled your eyes. He's always like this. It's not like you weren't curious of his reaction when he does taste you, you were just scared that he'd be disgusted. Plus the post pregnancy hormones are worst as they make you emotional over the silliest things.

"Please, baby? Just this one time. I'll be a good boy I promise." You hate when he addresses himself as if he's an angel. He is a mischievous devil inside. But rather than having him pester you for the rest of the night and ruin your hard earned sleep (since your baby's cries always wakes you up) You thought maybe let him and just get it over with...

"mmph ffhuck." His moans vibrated through your skin, "mhmm god ywo twaste shwo good." The moment he said that, all the insecurity left your body, and heat forming between your legs.

"Ngh—toru..." you felt so embarrassed—so dirty when his eyes locked with you. Your lashes fluttered and you looked away but you swore you could feel him smiling on your nipples. Your husband really digs out the emotions you never thought existed within you.

He was pressing them together, playing like he had just found a new toy. You had never seen so much amusement in those blue eyes as much as of now. Bright pink tongue lolling out to taste the squirting liquid when he squeezed both your breasts together.

"Feels good, right baby? ah!" *slurp* He wiped the dripping milk at the end of his lips with his tongue, and you couldn't process. You felt so wet. And he knew you very well. After all, you've been together for so many years.

"Lay down baby. I'll fuck you while I drink you." You never thought you'd ever hear that sentence but there it was.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

— toji has always been an experienced man. he has definitely tried a lot of things. but there's always areas to expand knowledge and new things to learn. he wouldn't do anything that makes you uncomfortable but he knew the person he was marrying wasn't ordinary. you, deep down, were just very dirty like him.

You had your legs stretched on the sofa, upper body resting on your husband's lap. Since you guys had a baby, it was very rare for you rest. Being a parent is the best thing in the world but it also feels worse than a 9to5 sometimes. Today was a good day though. Your boy was sleeping soundly and you had some quality time to spend with each other. Well, it's hard to go on a date at this time, but you both were just happy to be in each other's presence.

Toji was mindlessly flipping through some channels after he got bored halfway through that one movie he was watching. His emerald eyes fell on your ipad screen where you were scrolling through what seemed like a baby product websites.

"I thought we had bought everything for little gumi." You looked up at him then back to the screen.

"Oh this isn't for gumi bear. This is for me. These are called breast shells."

"What? Show me." He took the ipad from you and carefully observed the product you were supposedly buying. "So what is this a fashion accessory for mommies now?"

"Hehehe," you giggled. "No, baby. My breast oversupplies sometimes and it ruins my dress. They prevent that." You watched him as he sat there in silence, poking his tongue inside his mouth. Within two seconds, he flipped you on the sofa, and gently climbed on you.

"Why are you buying that shitty thing when I am right here?"

"Toji, what do y—OH MY GOD!" he pulled out both your breast pretty quickly, all thanks to your maternity clothes. He knew you won't stop him. He knew you would get wet when he'd do that. And he was right on the money. He started sucking so hard, you felt...foreign. He had sucked them a hundred times before but watching him flick your nipples with his tongue and the milk trailing down, fusing with the tastebuds until it goes transparent and his adam's apple bobs when he gulps it. fuck.

Toji's obvious boner grinds against your heat as he suckled on those pretty tits. The wet patch on your panties were now staining his grey bottoms too.

"Overflowing down there too, mama? Hmph," he chuckled. You were to focused on the feeling of his lips on your nipples that you forgot to see his right hand moving down to cup your heat.

"Ngh—twoji," you mewled.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you." Thick fingers circled your wet clit, "Ya don't need those shells or whateva when i am right here." He is a great husband. He even saved you so much money that you were gonna spend on those silicones.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

—suguru worships you. it isn't obvious but you can feel his devotion towards you. the way his droopy eyes lights up when they fall on you, or his ears turn red when you kiss him. he loves how you take him in, struggling a little at first because he is girthy and a bit long, but when he bottoms out, you finally exhale and relax your walls around him. holy shit. he loves it. but this time, something different struck his curiosity.

"fuck. you sure we can do this baby?" He asked.

"'s okay, sugu. doc said we had to wait like six weeks and it's been three months." You were so busy in your post pregnancy life that you barely got time for just each other. You hadn't even kissed properly in months. "plus," you reached for his cock, "i need you." Those last words came off as a whine. You needed him and who is he to deny you off your pleasure.

You were on top of him as you positioned his boner to your entrance. He watched as your cunt swallowed him. This time, not struggling as much. Thanks to dilation.

"anh! suguuu~ mhmm missed your cock." You moaned so beautifully, he found himself falling in love over and over again. Yet, something was different. Normally, his eyes would focus down on how you well you take him as you ride it, but today he had found something rather more interesting. Your big tits bumped against his face and he couldn't take his eyes of those nipples. Those glistening nipples. He could see droplets of milk settling and honestly, they looked so fucking tempting. He let his intrusive thoughts win as you felt a warm sensation on your boobs.

"haaa—fuck. sugu, mhmm—no, it's gross" He didn't reply. He didn't need to. Pretending he didn't hear that was just right. Why would you even think anything about you is gross. He would kiss the soil you walked on.

"so fucking sweet. my sweet girl." *sucksucksuck* "these are f'me too, right? these were made f'me. hmm...sweet *suck* fucking *suck* girl.

congratulations. you just unlocked his new kink.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

—nanami is a gentke lover. we all know that. he is only mean in bed if you ask him too. that alone needs a lot of convincing because he is scared of hurting you. he is not too kinky but you can't say he's completely vanilla. he enjoys wrapping a tie around wrist as be eats you out. he also found himself getting hard when you called him "daddy." So yeah, he is a little kinky. But not in a million years Nanami Kento would've thought he would get hard watching you wipe the excess milk off your breasts.

"So i just put her down to sleep," you walked out of the baby room, with your left tit out, wiping it with a napkin. "What do you want for lunch—Kento?" He immediately broke the staring contest he was having with your boobs and looked at you.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Is everything alright? Is there something on my breasts?"

"Yes—I mean no. of course not." It was rare to hear panic in his voice which only made you mroe curious. You walked closer to him, hsi breath heavier than usual.

"What's wrong, Ken? Talk to me." shit shit shit. you were too close. he could feel your wet boobs rubbing against his cyan blue shirt. If you got any closer, you would loathe him for having a boner for such thing. He was ashamed of himself.

"Why are you looking away, baby? Do you not like me anymore?" Fuck. You're so stupid. Not like you? That man is in love with you so much. He cannot contain himself. You tried to get closer but he tripped on the foot of the couch and felk on it upright, and you on top of him.

oh.

OH.

You could feel it between your legs. You didn't even kiss him and it's not like you were seducing him earlier so you connected the dots pretty quickly on why he was hard.

"hmm hmm" you giggled. "is this what makes you hard you, ken? my lactating tits?"

"don't say it out loud, please." it was so fun seeing him all flustered. you adjusted yourself on top him as you thought of something very dirty.

"wanna taste? i know you're curious." he hesitated a bit, but a man like him can only go so high with his walls before he breaks them and let's his wife take control.

He started off with a few licks, testing his feet into the water. It was sweet with a hint of tanginess. The moment he felt it squirting a lot when he sucked, he fell in love. He acted like a kid who had just discovered magic. You chuckled between your heavy moans as you witnessed him trying to fit in your tits in his mouth as much as he can. You start grinding on him and it only makes him more desperate. He taps your thighs, a cue to pull your dress up and throw it in the floor. You watch as he hungrily latches his lips on your nipples quickly again. Your dress was not even off your arms yet. Nanami had discovered his obsession when he watched you squeeze you tits to squirt your milk on him.

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

—sukuna didn't even think it was possible for him to have a child as him being a curse and you being a human but here you were. he was in love with you. maybe his expression for love was different than others, but you felt it. be wasn't an embodiment of rage, but rather an overflowing confidence in his skills. That's where the cockiness came from. Existing for over a 1000 years, he thought he had experienced everything. Well...he was wrong.

"So...you just out this device on your chest and it gathers your milk?"

"Yes. It's called a "breast pump" and not a device," his vocabulary according to the new era was still weak but he was working on it.

When you detached the the vaccum of the breast pump from your boobs, Sukuna's eyes were fixated on them. He loved your tits. He had his fair share of biting and sucking on them till they were sore, but today they looked so plumped and so...succulent??

"What are you staring at? You want to drink it too or what?" You joked as you closed the lid of the bottle.

"Yes." You stared at him. Two minutes of complete shock snd silence.

"What?"

"What? You said if I want to drink it, and I answered."

"Yeah but—"

"Be a good wife, my little human. Good wives obey their husband's wishes." (Please let the feminist in you shut up for a sec and enjoy cuz i know he'd say smtg like this)

"Kuna...I don't know. It's nasty, y'know?"

"I think you're forgetting that I am a monster, baby. I ate you out during your those days of the month. This is less dirty." He yaps a lot someone shit him up before I die from embarrassment.

Sukuna laid you on the bed gently after getting you undressed. For the first time in so.many years, you were feeling shy again in front of him. It was quite an amusing sight to enjoy for him. He summoned a mouth on both his palm and licked your nipples. He wasn't sucking yet, but the hint of sweetness still laced his tastebuds.

"I am going to squeeze your breasts in my mouth now, okay?" Why did he feel the need to announce it? Weren't you already so flustered?

The tongues on his palm licked the skin of your tits before squeezing it when his mouth crashed against your nipples, spraying the milk. Sukuna sometimes forget you're a human. You're delicate unlike. The strong force of the suction made you whine and moan so loudly, it vibrated through the walls of the bedroom.

"mhmm I did not know my beloved wife enjoyed such depraved acts," he smirked when his thighs brushed against your bare pussy. you were dripping wet.

"Don't worry, little one. Let me please you. Hope you have pumped out enough in that bottle of yours. Because, I am going to milk you dry today."

taglist: @aztecbrujeria @sachiyoh @hellkaiserinphoenix @his-saiko @kokonoiscoconut @numbinyourchest @shewritesallnight @valiantmilkshakekoala @oreo-creampie @kutabaka @gojoxxluv @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi @chronic-claire-universe @katsukichu @shutyourwhoremouthbecky @mostlyhornyandsad @leelee-66 @stargirlstabber

[nanaslutt]

PLEASE write more of geto being a perv🙏🙏

“pt.1” here

Geto x reader, in showing you how sorry he is for being a creep<3

perv!geto is my obsession atm

contains: fem reader, non consensual photography (reader is kinda ok w it), pervy roomate!geto, crack, gojo makes an appearance, talk of gojo wanting reader, sexual tension, cunnilingus, masturbation(geto), degradation, soooooooo much dirty talk, sweet!geto at the end<3

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

About a week ago you were watching a scary movie with geto on your laptop, drinks placed on the table next to it; dumbly.

So of course when the scariest jump scare you’ve ever seen in your life occurred, your legs jerked into the glass of liquid, spilling it all over your laptop and absolutely ruining it.

“God- Fuck! Noooo! nonono!” you shot up to grab a blanket, pillow, anything, to soak up the liquid, “TAKE YOUR SHIRT OF NOW,” you yelled in a panic to your dark haired roommate, who; you noticed throughout this entire excursion had barely moved a muscle to help, besides the muscles used to laugh at you.

“Babe I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that shit is beyond saving,” he laughed, placing his hand over his chest while he did.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck, I use my laptop every single, and day I absolutely cannot afford to buy a new one right now.” you placed your head in your hands in defeat.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” geto said, at the end of his fit of giggles at your expense.

“Yeah right, ur broke as shit too, that’s why we’re living together.” you said, muffled into your legs as your body had now fully collapsed in on itself.

“Yeah ur right, but that kinda hurts my feelings,” he said, smirk showing through his faux pout, “thought you liked livin’ with me,”

The two of you bickered back and forth for a while. You ended up putting the laptop in a bag of rice; to no avail, it was completely ruined.

Geto had been nice enough to let you use his laptop in the meantime; only when he was with you though, which you found slightly weird but at least you had access to it to some degree.

Right now you had the house to yourself though. Satoru had picked him up half and hour ago, saying something about wanting to try some new coffee shop with word famous sweets; that meant you had free range of his laptop.

You knew how to clear search history, so you would be fine. You just wanted to watch a movie anyways, nothing criminal.

Sneaking into his room, you unplugged the silver electronic, sliding it under your arm as you took it back to your room. Placing the laptop on your bed and getting comfortable against your pillows, you cracked it open, You had accidentally seen him type in his password before, so getting in was no problem.

What was a problem is what was on the screen when the laptop came to life. An entire folder of up skirt panty shots; and not just anyone’s panty shots; they were yours.

Scrolling through the decently filled folder, you noticed ones that dated back months ago. You saw a picture of you laying on your bed, head in your hands while you kicked your feet behind you; the short skirt you were wearing gave geto the perfect view of your unobstructed ass, slight pink peaking between your cheeks.

Other too, you doing more mundane things like sitting on your knees on the barstool you had in the house, poking out your ass, once again giving that dark haired pervert the perfect shot of your clothed mound.

You were almost impressed at how many there were, and how make different angles he was able to get without your knowledge.

Trying to wrap your head around the idea that yes, your sweet roommate who has never attempted to come onto you once, had a secret folder filled with lewd photos of you.

Saving the file, you sent it to yourself. Once you heard the chime on your phone you quickly copied the link, and sent it to the culprit himself, no other message attached to it but the folder alone.

——

“Ummm ooh, I’ll also get the triple chocolate cream filled crepe cake please! What do you want suguru?” gojo chirped.

Geto started at him with disbelief, he had just ordered 5 full size deserts with the longest name he’d ever heard; all sounding like a stomach ache and a half; and they were all for himself.

“Right..uh, i’ll just get the vanilla scone and a black coffee please.” Geto politely spoke to the man taking his order.

Gojo continued conversing with the cashier, finishing up ordering any last minute items and paying.

Geto felt his phone buzz in his pants, checking it quickly while gojo finished up the interaction; both of them starting to walk to booth in the corner of the cafe.

Suguru’s heart sank to his balls when he opened your message. He knew you were mad too, because you didn’t say anything else other than a link to his private folder of your panty shots. “Fuuuuuuuuuck haha,” geto laughed, hand coming up to cover his smirk as they slid into the booth.

“Huh? let me see, what happened?” Gojo nosed, trying to peek over the table at geto’s phone when he noticed it was the source of his distress.

“I might have to sleep at your house tonight, maybe for the rest of my life I don’t know.” he said, hand dropping back into his lap as he shut his phone off.

“Did you forget to do your dishes or somethin’?” he asked, knowing how angry you got at Geto when he didn’t pick up after himself.

“Yeah maybe, or maybe my roommate just found the upskirt pics i’ve been taking of them for the past couple months.” he giggled, slight remorse in the back of his head. Not from doing it, but from being caught.

Gojo’s jaw dropped, covering his own mouth as he let out a boisterous laugh. “Hahaha oh man, you really are fucked.” the blonde slapped his own knee, “I’ll let you co-sign my lease tonight,” he said, scared that if suguru went home, he might actually get murdered.

Geto kicked satoru’s shin underneath the table, making him wince. Their giggles died down at geto’s misfortune after awhile. “So..” gojo started, “Yer’ gunna let me see the pics right?” he asked, “Already hurt you didn’t tell me about this,” he pouted,

“In your fucking dreams satoru,” geto snorted. He already saw the way gojo looked at you when he was over, always making passes at you and touching you any chance he got.

He would be damned if his bestfriend got his hands on you before he did. “WHAT???” gojo yelled a little too loud for the tiny space they were in, resulting in him getting shushed by geto, “pleaseeeee, I know how good you are at taking pictures I bet they’re soooo gooood.” gojo wined, crossing his arms on the table and laying his head against them.

“Keep dreaming satoru.” he laughed. The whine haired man kept his pouting up for awhile, calling Geto selfish and unfair, his sorrow immediately being forgot about when the massive tray of his deserts finally came out.

——

When you heard the front door to your shared apartment finally crack open open a couple hours later, you were in your bedroom.

His laptop had been tucked away in your bedside table in confiscation, while you awaited with a racing heart, for him to knock on your bedroom door.

You heard him place his keys on the table through the thin walls, then you hear his heavy footsteps as he starts to make his way to your room.

The air was still when the footsteps came to a stop in front of your door. You were feeling a lot less confident than you were before he got here, now the thought of confronting him made your mouth feel dry; heart beating out of your chest.

Finally, the knocks were being rapped on your door, you swear you died for a second when you heard his familiar voice call your name, followed by him asking politely if he could come in.

"Its open," you yelled back. When the wooden door creaked open and his frame came into view, you had to fight off all the neurons in your brain telling you to look away from his hooded eyes.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, the tension in the room was so thick it could be cut through with a knife. You had no idea why, but the current situation was admittedly arousing.

You stayed silent for a while, just staring at each other, neither one of you daring to break eye contact first, "So? What do you have to say for yourself?" you asked, voice coming out a lot less confident than you wanted.

"Im sorry." he replied, swallowing thickly, quickly sucking his lip into his mouth to wet it.

"You're sorry for what?" you asked clarifying, This wasn't going how you expected.

"I'm sorry for being a pervert and taking panty pics of my roommate." He said, taking a couple steps towards where you were sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Are you really sorry?" You asked, voice full of need, as you did your best to supress it, trying to ignore the growing heat in your stomach.

"So sorry" he answered, having made his way inches away from you, eye contact still not being broken. You both noticed how heavily you were breathing, his eyes flitting down to your lips for a second before he sucked his lip into his mouth again, and letting it slide out, dark eyes meeting yours again.

The only thing you heard was your heart beat loudly in your ears as you spoke your next words, "Show me how sorry you are."

----

"Mm so fucking sorry," geto's voice vibrated against your clit.

"F-fuck ohmygod," You moaned at the feeling of him wrapping his lips around the bud, tongue peeking through to flick at it.

"A-again-" you whined,

"'M sorry," he groaned, staring up at you with a smirk as he released your clit, flattening his tongue over the sensitive bud.

You were laid back, ass placed at the end of the bed, Geto was sitting back on his heels as he perched himself on the floor between your thighs, hand rapidly stoking over his throbbing cock.

"W-wipe that sm-ile off your face" you wined, trying to keep the little hold you had over geto.

He didnt stop smiling, but you could'nt tell when he burried his tongue inside your pussy, pressing his face hard into your wetness and shaking his head. His pointed nose rubbed your clit in the most delicious way when he did that.

"S-so fucking dirty" you chastised at how sloppily he was eating your cunt. He was trying to fuck his apology into your pussy with his tongue, really trying to prove how sorry he was.

Loud slurping noises bouncing off the walls and going straight to your head; and to his cock; making you both dizzy at the situation.

"Sorry I'm so nasty," he groaned, muffled by your folds as he tongue fucked you like his life depended on it.

Quickening the pace of his hand against his cock, he was squeezing it the same way your walls squeezed his tongue, trying to mimic the feeling. Pre was dripping steadily from his cock and onto the floor, leaving a little puddle there.

Geto was getting off on this so hard.

Every time you squeezed your thighs around his head and degraded him, his abs clenched, balls tightening with the need to blow his load.

"O-only thing youre good for is eating my pussy, f-fuck" you said meanly with a whimper, eyes dropping down to his handsome face and seeing how fucked out he looked from your words, as he nodded his head and moaned into you, agreeing with you.

He needed to you keep talking to him like that, to keep humping his face, suffocating him, treating him like a bitch, he needed it.

"Use me-" he cut himself off as he moved his mouth back up to your clit, making out with the little bud messily, "wanna show you how sorry I am." he drunkenly smiled at you.

You gripped his hair in a makeshift bun, rolling your hips against his face as he stuck his tongue out for you to get yoruself off on.

Groans of "mhm mhmm" could be heard from Geto between your legs, pumping his cock impossibly faster feeling your wetness gush out of you from his minstrations.

"Ohmygod feels so good- shit-" You wined, tipping your head back, feeling your orgasm build quicky as you rubbed against his tongue just right.

His chin was absolutely covered in your slick, pretty eyes rolling back in his head as he felt himself get pushed towards the edge as well, abandoning his hand keeping your thigh spread to join his other between his legs. He massaged his balls between his fingers, increasing the pleasure he felt while you worked towards your end together.

"Fuck t-tell me your sorry again," you whimpered out, teetering on the edge of your orgasm, "Sorry" his deep voice immediately groaned out, cock throbbing when you yanked on his hair.

"Ag-ain" your moans broke up your speech,

"Sorry, m' sorry, sorry-" He kept babbling against your pussy, sending delicious vibrations through you.

You were feeling hotter at the strange power dynamic going on, using that to your advantage as he kept mumbling the word into you, sending you straight into the most mindblowing orgasm of your life.

"Coming f-uck fuck f-" your voice getting cut off as your stomach started contracting and jerking, you rode your high out on his tongue while he groaned a lengthy moan into you.

Behind where your vision was blocked by the bed, Geto was cumming all over his hand and the bottom of your comforter.

Geto's eyes repeatedly rolled back in his head, hand massaging his cum out of his balls as he stroked himself roughly through his orgasm.

Finally being able to breathe when you loosened your legs from their hold on his neck, dropping your hands from his hair as you laid back on the sheets. Geto's hands wet with his seed came up to massage your thighs, his head rasing from between them.

You both took a second to breathe heavily into the open air, your cunt as his cock alike twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms.

You felt his hold on you cease for a moment, a couple seconds later something was bouncing heavily next to your head. When you turned your head you were faced with a brand new, rose gold laptop, still in its packaging.

You looked back up at geto, who was now standing, running one of his damp hands through his hair, "If me eating your pussy didnt prove how sorry I am, I hope this will." He smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Fuck, Geto are you serious?" you beamed, picking your limp body up from the sheets and holding the package in your hands, he smiled at you fondly, watching you tear it open like a kid on Christmas.

Peeling the plastic from the cardboard you spoke, "Still making you delete all those photos by the way," resulting in him tipping his head back in a loud groan of defeat.