#every muscle hurts but im still so happy

[churipu]

( OO4 ) ★ bloody mess , nanami kento

featuring. nanami kento x reader

warnings. mentions of blood, mentions of a lot of different pet names (sweetheart, love, etc.), hospital raahhh, anesthesia.

note. WHO'S BACK DOING THE 1K EVENT LAJSOS IM SO SORRY :< THIS ONE IS A BIT SHORT???

ENTRY ( OO4 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE

"quick question, how much blood do i have to let out to be deemed hospital worthy?" "a lot." "oh, well — that's not good."

tags: @sad-darksoul @sweeneyblue1 @idkuluka @colorful-happy-shit @tomie-it-girl

the room reeked of blood. if you get a gist of it — you'd likely think of death.

you held your phone in between your shoulder and your ear, slightly trembling as your muscle stretched. chewing your lip in frustration, the device ringing.

once.

twice.

thri—

"hi, sweetheart."

you sighed out in relief, "hi kento, i have a really quick question because i'm trying not to freak out—"

nanami immediately cuts you off, "is something wrong? what happened y/n?"

"quick question, how much blood do i have to let out to be deemed hospital worthy?" you asked him, eyeing the trail of crimson streaming down your ring and pinky finger — blowing on it softly, foot drumming impatiently. what a bloody mess.

nanami was silent for a few seconds, but you could make out a brief, "a lot."

that's when you finally let out a panicked but calm, "oh, well — that's not good."

the male on the other line shuffled a bit, and you made out a few static noises, "what happened, sweetheart? did you hurt yourself?" he softly asks you.

"um . . . i cut myself cutting fruits. it's stupid but — i was trying to imitate fruit ninja . . ." you explained, full of shame. yet again, from the other line, nanami shuffled; creating out static noises, "i should probably head to the hospital, right?"

"apply pressure on the wound, i'm already around the corner, love. keep on talking with me." he replies back calmly.

you did what he told you to do without ending the call, wincing every once in a while from the jolt of pain.

soon enough, nanami burst from the front door — his eyes finding your sitting form, a cotton pad wrapped around your bloodied fingers. with rushed steps, he approaches you, softly grabbing your hand, inspecting the wound.

"come here pretty," he softly mumbles, tugging you gently, "we're going to the hospital."

two stitches.

because you decided to imitate fruit ninja — in your defense, it seemed really cool in the games.

with an IV attached to your other hand, you laid on the bed, half droopy as the anesthesia had already spread through your veins. limp and tired, a hard cast covering your wounded hand to press on the stitches.

"please keep watch of their hands, and try not to move it a lot during the healing process — come back in approximately two weeks time for cast and stitches disposal." you could definitely hear a doctor say — clueless to you or to nanami.

but you answered them nonetheless, slurring out incoherent words, "oh . . . doctor, yeah! okay, mhm, i got you, doc, i'll be back soon."

a few chuckling erupted and you shut your eyes, feeling fatigue take over, "how are you feeling, darling?"

fluttering your eyes open, you nod, "good. how about you, ken?"

nanami brushed your cheek gently, staring at your droopy state affectionately, his elbow prepped up on the hospital bed, "i'm good as well. are you still in pain?"

you shook your head with a stupid smile, "nope, just peachy," you smiled, "i have a dress on my finger—" proudly raising your index finger up, where the pulse oximeter was.

"it looks wonderful, sweetheart," nanami softly threaded his calloused fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles.

the wound was worse than he thought. at first, nanami didn't know whether to be worried about your poor choice of action or your wound in all honesty, but at this point — he's doing both at the same time.

the male was in the middle of a meeting with the gojo satoru when you called.

"right? and — i think they stole my fingers," you whispered, eyes darting around here and there before eventually trying to raise up your wounded hand. to which nanami prevented by carefully putting it down to your side, on the bed.

"i promise your fingers are there, darling." nanami chuckled at your behavior under the anesthesia.

"no, no. i swear, i can't feel them — the people stole my fingers while you were not here," you refer to the doctor and the couple of nurses who tended to you earlier, "go check them, i swear, ken. my fingers are gone."

cute. you were very cute. nanami knew he shouldn't be laughing at all, but the way you acted right now was . . . very out of character. the passion swirling in your eyes as you try to convince him that your fingers were stolen.

"angel, i promise. they're there, attached." he moved a few strands of your hair away from your face, "you can be angry at me if they aren't there."

bad choices of words. because the very next second, you were trying to pry open your cast to take a quick look at your fingers.

"no, no. darling, you shouldn't touch that," nanami stood up, carefully holding your unharmed hand. preventing it from gnawing at your harmed hand.

"'m trying to prove something here, ken . . ." you rolled your eyes, leaning back onto the bed, "let me go," your whines made him smile.

"darling, 'ts not good to touch it now. we'll get it taken off in a while," you softly whine at his words.

"'ts too long. my fingers . . ."

nanami cupped your face and pressed a chaste kiss onto your lips, "they're there darling, i promise." he held out his pinky.

you childishly nodded, intertwining your pinky with his, "okay. promise."

"are they there?" nanami asks, holding your unharmed hand as he used his other hand to steer the steering wheel of his car.

it had been at least a couple of hours, and the anesthesia was slowly leaving your system — enough for you to be dismissed from the hospital. here you were, sitting in his passenger's seat, "are what there?" you questioned back, still feeling a bit droopy.

"your fingers."

in confusion you stare at him, "of course they are, in here." you mumbled, raising up your casted hand.

nanami chuckled, this was only something he and you (under the influence) knew.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[zbis]

matthew + choking - no explicit smut but still minors dni

today you and all of his friends had been hanging out casually at the dorms. it was all going great until one of them decided it was a good idea to start flirting with you. boredom leads to interesting scenarios between men, you figure. of course, it was playful because they all knew how matthew could be but it was mainly for fun and games and to get a reaction out of their friend.

"matthew's girlfriend looks really pretty today!" jiwoong had pointed out. a simple tongue poke through the cheek was enough to let you know that matthew was getting irritated already. his bright eyes had turned dark and you could tell his whole demeanor had changed just by the comment alone.

you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from bursting out laughing because of how obvious he could be. just to rile him up because you were bored out of your mind, you decided to play along with the group's antics. a little poking fun wouldn't hurt, plus you could tell matthew had been pent up and stressed so why not lighten the mood?

matthew was definitely not happy to entertain this, not realizing that it was just a sudden ploy to get him angry on purpose. the guys liked to joke that he was just too easy to mess around with. he truly took everything to heart.

"thank you jiwoong," you blink at him flirtatiously. somewhere in the room, you hear matthew huff but you block it out of your mind. a part of you wanted to see how far this could go but a part of you knew this was a bad idea.

"can you guys not do that," matthew mumbles under his breath. he tries to pull you closer to him but you don't appreciate the force he's using so you resist.

"do what," you raise your eyebrows at him and pout. you use this chance to lean your head on gyuvin's shoulder, who was sitting nearest to you. "are they not allowed to compliment me?" you egg him on.

gyuvin laughs nervously at the way the older boy glares at him. he must not have been in the mood to feel matthew's wrath, you'd have to remember to apologize to the poor boy later.

"you know what you're doing.." matthew grunts, attempting once more to move you closer to his embrace. his arm muscles bulge every time he pulls you away from gyuvin and you appreciate it for a moment because damn, he has been working out. "im not doing anything. don't pull me so hard" you protest.

in your subtle struggle to stop him from pulling you close you don't notice how your skirt rides up and almost flashes some of the boys. most of them look away, thankfully. "y/n what's up with you??" matthew questions.

"im not doing anything wrong," you defend. "not doing anything wrong?" matthew's frustration with you starts to flare up when you say that. he huffs and stands up, almost knocking down the glasses on the table. everyone glances at him and then at you because they know what comes next.

"my room, now" he frowns at you. he walks off without waiting for you and you know you should probably not make him more upset than he already is. ricky makes a suggestive gesture in the corner of the room and you throw him a playful glare. hanbin shakes his head at you, whispering a "you're in for it".

once you get to matthew's room you see him sitting on his bed with his arms crossed. "fuck he looks so g-"

"the fuck is wrong with you?" "oh"

"nothing," you mutter. he sighs, running his hands down his face. suddenly a small part of you feels guilty. "do you enjoy making me upset y/n?"

when he repositions his arms, you shamelssly stare at them. the veins on his arms and hands are angerily popping out and you want nothing more than for him to-

"my goddamn eyes are up here"

you swallow hard, embarrassed at being caught. "i was just mesing around, its not a big deal, you're just....unbearable.

"im unbearable?!" matthew scoffs. "not with how you're being a slut around my friends every 2 seconds," he rolls his eyes.

you fold your arms across your chest but find yourself biting back a smile once again. when matthew had so gracefully yanked you off the couch, the sadistic part of you sort of hoped he would put you in your place right then and there somehow.

"no you're just possessive as fuck," you mumble. there it was. the word matthew hated the most. he stands up from the bed and takes long strides to where you stand. you back up but find that you're already up against the door. he wraps his veiny cold hands around your neck and you can feel his equally cool jewelry grazing your skin.

you gasp and grasp at his hand. "possessive?" he ponders on the word for a moment, kind of liking how it sounds for a second. "hell yeah i am" he grip around your neck tightens.

"m-matthew" you whine. you don't want to but you subconsciously rub your thighs together. this doesn't go unnoticed by him either as he rolls his eyes, realizing your motives.

"i can show you just how possessive i can be"

[luveline]

Sooo im still not over your hockey player Eddie and I absolutely love love love your hurt/comfort fics so I would love to see one where he's teaching something to reader and r gets injured and fluff ensues!

tysm for requesting, 1.3k

"You warm enough?" Eddie asks. 

Your hand is your only warm appendage where it's held in his. You're using your wobbly footing on the ice as an excuse to touch him, hand like a viper clinging to him. "Is that a joke?" 

You're wearing upward of three layers. The icy chill permeates through. 

"You'll feel warmer once we start moving, I promise." Eddie wears a simple compression shirt and sweatpants.

You kind of wish every other person here of single status would be blind to him. Like, they'd look at him and their eyes would just miraculously skip his figure, but alas. If anything, his impressive bulking attracts attention. Eddie drew looks before he started taking hockey seriously, but for a different reason. Now he's started building muscle, he's like honey to flies. 

You're not shallow, but muscles are muscles. He looks good. Hopefully he knows it, but Eddie's generally oblivious to his own looks, more focused on other people. Even now he drives you both backward on the ice while watching your face. 

"Don't be nervous," he says. 

"That's easier said than done," you say, grabbing his arm with your free hand as your left skate slides forward. 

"I've got you, honey," he says. It's not as strange from his lips as you might suspect because he says it in such a particular way. Easy-going, verging on cocky, he doesn't think for a second that you're going to slip, and he knows for sure that you're his honey. He has the cheese ball grin to prove it. "This will be fun! You said you wanted to try." 

"I do want to. Or, I did. Now we're here, I'm not so confident."

"You don't think I can teach you?" he asks. 

"No, I just don't think I can learn," you say, seizing as Eddie begins a gentle figure eight. You've watched him enough to know what shape he'll take, but that doesn't stop the instinctual fear. 

"If I can weasel my way into minor league, you can learn to play. I promise it's easy." 

"It's not easy, Eds. You worked so hard, I mean," —you wiggle your eyebrows at him suggestively— "just look at you." 

"Charmer! No, I mean learning to play is easy. Scoring a goal is easy. You know, so long as there's no goalkeeper there to stop you. I'm gonna let go of your hand now, okay?" 

Eddie skates to just behind the goal where his stick awaits, a puck on the floor beside it. He skates and keeps the puck close, stopping it by your feet. You've managed to skate closer to the goalposts without falling, waiting with your hands out like a tightrope walker. 

"Doing good," Eddie praises, dropping a cold kiss into your temple. He hands you the stick and stations himself at your side.  

You straighten it out. You've held it a few times and Eddie had you practising on dry land before the ice, but it feels heavier now. Your balance isn't automatic anymore. 

"You want help? We can do it like a movie." Eddie sidles up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You feel better knowing he'll catch you before you can fall. 

"How much am I pulling back?" 

"Not a lot from here. If you were skating you might wanna pull it up real high, but the puck's not moving and neither are you." 

"What does Steve say?" you ask, lining up your shot. 

"Put the biscuit in the basket, dickhead?" 

You laugh and hit your puck. It slides across the ice and between the goalposts easily, a small feat for you and a big cause for celebration in Eddie's eyes; he shouts a nonsense sound, his arm behind your back as he shouts, "Yes! Easy-peasy, babe, you're a natural." 

You feel pretty happy about it, all things considered. Even if it wasn't as hard as you imagined, Eddie's pleased, and for a moment you forget you're untrained on the ice and attempt to return his half hug. 

You fall because you think you're going to. Sudden, you remember you might slip, and the panic has you pushing your skate forward in an attempt to dig in. It slides out from under you and Eddie's not on guard, catching your arm but not your back as you smack into the ice. 

"Shit! Shit, come here, sweetheart," he says, pulling you up. 

"Ow, wait," you say. More of a yelp, you wince as your skates slide about, thighs rigid and cold, the bottom of your spine aching, but worst of all is your arm. In his attempt to keep you standing, Eddie's yanked your arm sore in its socket. You don't mean to be dramatic but you're desperate for the hot pain to stop. "Eddie, let go." 

He drops your hand. Unafraid of being unable to stand again, Eddie goes down on his knees. Any skater will give you room. 

"Did I hurt you?" he asks. 

You put your hands on the ice in an attempt to sit up. Eddie holds you down, hands on your thighs. 

"Take five. Did I hurt you?" he asks again, not urgent but teetering, his hand imploring as it travels to your waist. 

You don't want to say yes. "My arm went funny, that's all. Sorry." 

"I'm the sorry one. Said I wouldn't drop you and I did… that's not right, huh?" His hand curls behind your back. 

You're not as hurt as you'd initially thought. Your arm aches sharply and your back will definitely bruise, but Eddie gives you a minute to get to grips with things and stands up expertly, hoisting you into his arms. His arms are lined with fingernail embeddings by the time you get back to the bench, and then you're both sorry. 

"Eddie," you murmur, rubbing your thumbs over the small red crescents softly. 

"How bad is it?" 

"I don't know." You shrug. "Not so bad now." You know Eddie's letting you do what you want because you're hurt, and not because he doesn't want badly to be assessing your arm and your back. "It's my bad, I got spooked."

He catches your gaze, holds it tenderly. Sugary brown with a deep dark iris and the big white grain of the lights above reflected. You skip from one eye to the other. He has more caramel coloured flecks in one. Both are soft and sorry. 

"Is this gonna put a stop to your illustrious hockey career?" he jokes weakly. 

You can't believe you scratched him so bad. "No way. If you want me to be great, I'll be great, just… maybe when my back doesn't feel all tingly." 

Eddie untucks your many shirts with a low hum, fingertips drawing an invisible line over your pain. "It looks okay." He drops his forehead into your neck and hugs your naked stomach, saying, "You're so warm," with his lips pressed to your shoulder. "...M'really sorry I dropped you, babe. I got too excited." 

"Not the first time that's happened," you say. 

Eddie pinches your tummy, his smile audible as you squirm. "Very funny." 

His hair is soft where it lays under your cheek. You let him cuddle up to you until you can't take the cold nor the aching anymore and ask to go home. Eddie insists on carrying you to the changing rooms, you insist on him not doing that, and you compromise by walking with his arm behind your back. 

"I'll try again next weekend," you promise. 

Eddie kiss-kiss-kisses your cheek in thank you. 

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Anywhere

Summary: Let’s thank Hozier for whatever this is because I can only think of it as brainrot. I had a part of this written for almost a year in my docs and couldn’t find inspiration to finish it but thanks to the incarnated Irish god I did.

Pairing: Hook x F!Reader (aka Tiger)

Warnings: Angst, mention of uncontrolled feelings, toxic relationship, self doubt, worthlessness, possible happy ending? idk

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @mjfass , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @ripleyswhore , @wickedval

It's the sound of it that brings me there

This city locked into the song of prayer

That finds no melody

Every moment of the working day

The twitching muscles in each step I take

The prayer is all of me

The Black & Mild hung from his lips and sent a white smoke up to the night sky, the burning tobacco somewhat was helping him soothe his instincts but Tyler asked himself for how long the warm smoke inside his mouth was going to be enough to keep his mind distant from the one place it didn’t want to stay away from.

Tyler chose to be absent from work for yet another week, and the backstage gossip was starting to build up to the point of annoyance. Even Tyler’s father had given him one of his famous earfuls earlier that night when he texted to say he wasn’t coming to work that week, and even though hours had passed by, Tyler could still hear his dad’s screams through the FaceTime call.

Another wave of warm smoke filled up his mouth before traveling down to his throat and lungs, all along carrying within itself the one word his father repeatedly had so vehemently: “obsession”.

“You’re obsessed with her, Tyler! Obsessed with a relationship you can’t stop fucking it up, snap out of it, son! Move the fuck on! Leave that poor girl alone, Tyler. You’ve done too much damage to get her back now, so put on your big boy pants, accept the results of your damn mistakes, stop destroying everything around you, stop destroying your fucking career, let her move on, get over this unhealthy obsession, and grow.the.fuck.up!”

This wasn’t obsession though, it was love in its raw, ugly, perverse, and deepest form. “Love doesn’t have to hurt”, they say. Yeah, sure, tell that to someone so desperate to make a relationship work that they commit every single possible mistake one can make. Perhaps this was what had doomed Tyler, he loved her too much.

That I'd be

Anywhere that you are, that you are

That I'd be

Anywhere that you are, that you are

When Tyler was 15 years old, his father took him to Joe’s barber shop two blocks down their house to have his first proper ‘man’ shave. As the older man began to spread the shaving cream on Tyler’s face, his father began “See, son, a man may like many women, we may grow fond of several females and keep them in our heart but if there’s one thing you should know is that a man only loves once. Real love will only be found once, in one single woman, and it doesn’t matter whether your relationship ends up working or not, you will forever love that woman until the day you die.”

“No matter how many girls you know afterward, no one will be able to replace the one woman who owns your heart. So once you find that girl, son, make sure you love, respect, and care for her. Do everything in your power to treat her like a queen, because that will be the woman who’ll forever live in your heart”.

Tyler did his best to treat her like a queen, but some things escaped his ability of self-control. Tiger is gorgeous, she is breathtaking, has the most wonderful personality, she’s incredibly smart, the most beautiful smile Tyler has ever seen, whenever she smiles it’s like the world has been put underneath a bright spotlight. She’s funny, caring, loving, she’s the best friend anyone could ever have, and the most addicting lover, sex with Tiger is out of this world, an out-of-body experience. There’s something special about sex with her, every touch is meaningful, every kiss is a silent promise of eternal love, and with every thrust, Tyler always felt their souls connecting.

He’s aware of how this sounds like some sort of hippie talk, but there was something incredibly spiritual and powerful about Tiger that only seemed to grow during sex. Although he wasn’t one to brag, Tyler has fucked a fair share of girls ever since he was 15 years old, and until he met Tiger, he was sure no woman would ever be able to handle him properly.

But even though sex was important to Tyler - and had been the base of every relationship he had until Tiggy came up - it shockingly wasn’t the sole reason why he loved her.

Tyler caught himself craving for her in more than sexual ways, he craved her affection, her touch, her capacity to begin a conversation about anything from something she saw on the news to curiosities about religions worldwide. He craved to see her smile, to hear her loud awkward laugh, to watch her cooking while using the wooden spoon as her own personal microphone. Tyler craved her advice on life, friendships, and work. He craved to hear her voice after a nightmare, to listen to her whisper-singing as a way to help him go back to sleep. He craved her, just having her there with him, craved the knowledge of having her waiting for him somewhere. Above anything else, Tyler missed how Tiger could bring peace to his soul just by existing.

And such peace seemed to be so distant to achieve now, that the world resembled a dark pit of miserableness, emptiness, and death. A limbo Tyler was certain he would never be able to leave.

Maybe I have yet to venture out

See the places that I hear about

Planes and trains and cars

Carve their lines into a curve like blades

All I get to are mistakes half-made

Leave the door ajar

Her wet footprints were unnoticeable against the damp concrete. Her eyes wandered around the streets, searching, wondering, pretending…She tried to make it work, but trying became tiring once it turned into a routine.

It was all too much, the arguing, the outbursts of jealousy, the lack of communication, the distrust, the assumptions..those killed her the most.

‘Where were you?’, ‘Why was he looking at you like that’, ‘Why didn’t you answer your phone if you were really with your mom?’, ‘Why do you smell like aftershave?’, ‘Why are you lying to me, Tiger?! Just tell me the fucking truth!’

Jealousy is not as glamorous as the books make it seem, it’s quite the opposite actually, it kills your mind along with your feelings until there comes a day when you realize that you don’t feel anything at all, and that’s when sadness takes over.

Mourning over something that once brought you so much happiness is a strange feeling. Looking at someone who used to be so dear to you and slowly watching them become the most despicable monster before your eyes is the most brutal thing one can go through. Love is such a delicate feeling, it’s alarming to see how quickly it can die when it stops being nourished. Tiger never believed it would be possible to stop loving Tyler, but life and its cruel - yet valuable - lessons showed her otherwise, it showed her how fairly easy it is to stop loving someone.

She never saw it coming, the day that she would leave the small one-bedroom apartment in New York behind, yet she did. Otherwise, how could she still be living? Even more so, how could Tyler still be alive if she hadn’t left that place for good?

Tiger loved freedom, while Tyler didn’t understand its meaning. Tiger wanted to be free with Tyler, as for Tyler, there was no freedom if he was with Tiger.

But I'd be

Anywhere that you are, that you are

That I'd be

Anywhere that you are, you are

She was the air that filled his lungs, so how could anyone live without air? Tyler tried to explain that to her over and over, but all he heard back was ‘You’re killing me, Ty! You’re suffocating me so much that I feel like I’m dying’. She said other fumbled words in between but that phrase was the only thing that sank into Tyler’s ears. He went deaf after that.

Tiger tried to find a middle ground, she thought therapy could help but how do you talk to someone who doesn’t want to utter a word? It’s pointless to try to fix a relationship when for it to work is a double-sided sword. Tiger couldn’t fix something that didn’t depend only on her, but Tyler was the king of perfection, Mr. There’s Nothing Wrong. So she just gave up, she couldn’t play tug-war anymore, she just wanted to leave and never go back to the Hell she was living in.

Love is not enough, it would never be enough, not if it was all it takes for a relationship to work. And both Tiger and Tyler learned that the hard way.

His eyes found her across the street, holding her small notepad and iconic glittery pen. She never came to this part of town, which made Tyler frown with worry. But her features seemed relaxed, serene even, as she observed the tall trees and how the thin rain droplets splattered the green leaves. ‘This is such a weird hobby’ Tyler thought to himself when they first met ‘Watching the leaves on a tree and scrambling down how it makes you feel’.

Tiger categorized it as ‘therapeutic’, and once she explained how it helped her ease her racing mind Tyler began admiring her for it.

Ironically enough, that was how they met back then, and now is how he meets her again after 6 months of their break up.

Watching her now, after everything Tyler knew and went through with her had him contemplating Tiger under a new light. ‘Perhaps she is happier like this, without you’ Tyler caught himself thinking, noticing how the lightheartedness that once was Tiger’s biggest quality seemed to have returned to her eyes now that she didn’t have him in her life anymore.

It’s sad to notice how the only person that you love so dearly seems to be better without you than when they were with you. Only now Tyler notices how he had killed Tiger during their time together. He killed her lightness, her freedom, her carefree nature. He transformed her into this sad caged bird that didn’t find happiness in singing anymore.

‘If you could go back in time, would you be different? Act differently? Approach things from another perspective?’ Tyler’s conscience asked him.

“Yes” Was his answer out loud, his eyes fixed on the wet pavement, without being able to keep looking at her.

‘Why? Because of your selfish reasons? Because you knew that you’d lose her if you didn’t?’ It asked him back.

But prayer

Is all of me, all of me

The prayer

Is all of me, all of me

“No” Tyler answered sincerely “Because I now know that she deserves better, way better than I ever was…way better than I could ever be”.

Tyler’s eyes tentatively looked up again, in the hopes of imprinting her true self into his mind one last time, until his orbs stopped at her caramel-colored coat standing right before him.

Tiger’s eyes wandered his face, focusing on his eye patch for a couple of seconds before asking “Are you a pirate now?”

For the first time in 6 months, Tyler let out a chuckle, “Maybe…If you like pirates then sure, I’m a pirate. But if you don’t, then I’m just a loser. The biggest asshole to ever walk the earth”.

“Yeah, that you are” She smiled sadly “Have you learned anything from it though?”

“Yeah, I did” Tyler’s fingers twitched to touch her, but he would never allow himself that, he didn’t deserve it. “Are you really here, Tiggy? I’m afraid I’m dreaming…but I don’t to be dreaming, I want this to be real”

“It could be real, Ty” She caressed his smooth cheek before smiling and sitting down beside him on the damp concrete “Wanna tell me what you’ve learned in life so far?”

But I'd be

Anywhere that you are, that you are

That I'd be

Anywhere that you are, you are

[aliorsboxostuff]

Hi! If your requests are open I have one! Just saw ATSV yesterday and its rotting my brain agsisghagdh anyways-

An M!Spider!Reader who is one of Miguel's trusted agents with a tendency to overwork himself to make sure that his teammates are kept safe and ignoring his own health in the process. This understandably makes Miguel very concerned but this man cannot healthily express this are you kidding? What I'm saying is classic troupe of patching you up while scolding you in Spanish and then maybe they kiss a little bit and well if you want to make it a little spicy I wont stop you >:]

Thank you very much! Genuinely makes my gay little heart happy when I see writers like you who exclusively write for gn/male readers, y'all are the backbone of the x reader community fr 💜

A/N: im so sorry this took so long this was months ago but a mf forgot and wow here i am yippee!!!! As usual, if yall find any spelling mistakes pls inform me as i’m always praciticing this damn 2nd language lmao. Lets see if my writing skills is still any good LOL enjoy!! <333

Careless 

Tags: Miguel O’hara xM!Reader, Spidey!Reader, Lyla, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Spider Society, No Smut, Kissing , Fluff, Reader is another spiderman, Soft!Miguel, slight OOC, patching up, healing fic, non-graphic description of wounds, mentions of blood and cuts 

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

Ever since the new guy joined the team, he quickly rose in the ranks and became Miguel’s right-hand man. He’d usually go on patrol, jumping from one universe to another with the man as they capture and contain anomalies like the bugs they are. Miguel puts his trust in him, well, as much trust as a man like Miguel can put in someone. But despite the short time the newbie has been in the Spider society, he has managed to capture Miguel and most of the Spider people's hearts so easily. 

He’s a comet that passes by the compound. Each time he returned from a mission, the spiders would gather around him, congratulating him on another successful mission and inviting him to drink or eat together.  A aswarm would always gather around the portal they knew he would come out from and each time, without fail, he would emerge to cheers and smiles. It wasn't like everyone else wasn't doing a good job, they were all doing what they were supposed to, but somehow the newbie was liked all around, solidifying Miguel’s slowly growing infatuation with him. 

But despite the trust and praises he gets, a spidey doesn't come home unscathed, not every time. Sometimes he’d come back from one of his solo missions with a broken rib or two, bruises in more places than necessary, a torn muscle here a twisted ankle there. He’d limp his way into the infirmary, an army of other spideys following him in worry yet he’d dismiss them easily with a simple wave and a; “It’s nothing guys, I’ll be fine,”

Miguel hates it.

Whenever the man goes on missions with the leader of the society, without fail, he will come home with nothing more than one or two bruises that would heal in a couple of hours if not minutes. Miguel would roll his shoulders back and the man would simply shake his head furiously like a dog before prancing to greet his waves of fans. Miguel didn't need to pay attention to him unless they were doing teamwork. He would run around by himself, track down the anomaly with him, and they would contain it easily and transfer it back just as easily. 

He might not look like it, but when Miguel brings a teammate with him on duo missions, he’s expected to cover their back and vice versa. Miguel will break any skull that dares to hurt his team and he hopes for the same response from his teammate. The newbie never disappoints. 

Miguel would find himself enraged, almost cornered by an anomaly, and there come’s Prince Charming with a devastating kick towards the anomaly’s side which sends it hurling into another building. Miguel appreciates their duo missions, the main reason he puts himself with the newbie. 

Not to mention, he makes a great team leader too. He’s carried out several missions with the younger ones, mainly Miles and Gwen, and despite it all, they always return successfully and with a snack in hand. When he goes on missions with Hobie, they’d somehow come back with a new intricate playlist created and when he goes on missions with Pavitr, they’d come back with pockets full of trinkets ready to give them to the other youngins. All in all, a solid team leader.

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

—

You were on a mission with Miles. One of your duo missions with the boy, rare considering Gwen usually tags along. But today she’s got a mission with Pavitr and Peni, which leaves you and Miles for some quality Dude Time. 

It was a sunny day in the universe Miles and you dropped in. As the two of you swing from building to building, talking about Miles’ thing with Gwen and laughing at how embarrassed he gets, continuing the topic to buying a new Lego set for Pavitr and Hobie as the two of you swung past a Lego shop, when suddenly the anomaly reveals itself.

Another variant of Doc Oct holding themselves up with their extended metal arms. You can handle a Doc Oct alone, and with Miles helping you, the mission was expected to be so easy you were already thinking about what to have for dinner. 

But things don't always go according to plan, does it?

It strikes 8 pm when Miguel gets a notif from Lyla that an arriving portal was opened into the containment site of the compound. The man clicks his tongue, dropping from his platform before making his way to the site. Every step he takes he leaves his foul mood like a repellent, making the other spidey avoid him, cutting the middle path of the other spideys like a blade. His scowl is not helping his case either way.

The last portal should've been at 6 pm.

The door slides open, and a slight hiss rings out into the room. Inside the evenly lit expanse of the room, he easily spots yours and Mile’s spider suits in between all the other anomaly's dingy outfits. Miguel takes a breath before he stalks towards the two men, their backs to him.

“Ugh, my rib is killing me,” You groan, pressing in the code to store the anomaly in its cell.

“You're telling me, this bruise is going to be a pain in the butt to heal,” Miles sighed, holding his left arm. “But if it weren't for you, man, I’d be dead meat,” 

“Oh come on Miles, none of us knew the guy would send a gas truck our way,” You scoff. The terminal beeps and the thrashing anomaly is contained. 

“The fact that it burned on its way towards us was also something we didn't expect.” Miles laughs at what you said as you find yourself cringing. You knew there were going to be burn marks on your leg.

“No, but seriously, thanks for covering me back there, I thought we’d-”

“You thought you’d what?” 

Miles practically jumps into your arms as the both of you screams. You shut your eyes and it seems like Mile’s did the same before a stern cough makes you peek through your eyelids. There, in front of you, stands a solid wall of muscle and anger. Miguel has his arms crossed, eyes so sharp it could cut a mountain in half. The slight scowl on his lips would be cute if it weren't for the pure bloodlust as he gazes down into you, making you gulp.

“Heeeeeey Miguel,” Your pathetic excuse of a smile was met with nothing but him deepening his frown. Okay alright yup.

Miles awkwardly scuffles down your arms. He coughs into his fist, pulling at the edge of his suit. “Hi there haha…”

Miguel stares. “The last arrival portal should've been at six.”

Not a sound from you or Miles. Miguel holds back a growl. 

“You two are late.”

“Right, ‘m sorry Miguel, I promise this would be the last time, it was just that- See me and Miles here; we didn't realize that this Doc Oct was gonna be slightly more insane than the others-” You ramble, Miles quickly nodding along. 

“And haha, well, one truck lead to another and next thing ya’ now, bam! We got uh… hurt,” A nervous chuckle left your lips. Miguel replies nothing.

“B-but! I covered Miles from the fire! So he only got a couple of bruises, I promise the kid is fine and it wasn't his fault either so let’s just-”

“Enough.” He barks. You practically clamped your mouth shut. 

The doors hisses open again and Gwen comes running in, worry on her face. She sighs in relief as he spots Miles hiding beside you. “Miles! Thank goodness you’re okay!” 

Miguel turns as she runs and wraps her arms around the boy. “You came back so late!”

“I’m sorry Gwen, things got a bit out of control,” Miles pats the girl back reassuringly. “I just got a bit beaten up, nothing I can't handle,” 

Gwen pulls back and grabs the boy's face before turning it left and right and up and down, her eyes scanning like a hawk. She deems it enough as she stops, hands firmly holding Miles’ arms. “You always say that,” She sighs. 

You can't help the small relieved smile on your lips as you watch the two teens catch up with each other before Miguel makes a gesture with his hand.

“Gwen, go take Morales into the infirmary.” He says as he nods to Lyla that popped up on his brace. “And make sure he doesn't get out of bed for the next two days.”

“What?! But it’s barely a scratch-” 

“Now, Morales.” The man stares them down until eventually, Miles relents with a sigh and lets the girl usher him into the Infirmary's direction, the two of them shuffling next to each other, Gwen's arm around Miles. 

You hear something along the lines of ‘detention’ from Gwen as she laughs before the door slides close, leaving you with an enraged lion in its territory. You gulp as Miguel fixes his red eyes on you.

“You. Come with me.” 

And that's how you find yourself walking down the halls of the many living quarters of the compound. You followed silently behind Miguel’s broad shoulders, in any other day you would find it hard to resist not ogling those massive arms, but tonight Miguel was practically a walking beacon of rage. The smallest misstep would make him burst and thats the last thing you want to happen. 

“Miguel, I'm sorry, okay?” You try, catching up to walk beside him. “I promise this will be the last time I’ll come back from a mission late, plus, I won't bring anyone else with me too if I ever do it again. I swear this won't hap-”

His sudden halt catches you off guard and you bump against him. You scratch the bridge of your nose with a slight frown from the impact. The dimly lit hallway made it a slight challenge to read the nameplate but you managed to make out ‘O’Hara’ and with that, your stomach drops.

“Um… Miguel, this isn't my room…” 

The door opens. The room is pitch black. 

Miguel makes his way inside. His red eye glows before he commands; “Sit.” 

Fear brought you to sit on his bed, not a crease in sight which only struck your fear deeper into you. You could hear your heartbeat, terrified for what's to come. The worst thing Miguel could do would probably chew you out in the comfort of his room, away from any possible witnesses, and then maybe take you out of commission for a while as your punishment. 

You gulp as the man sets something beside you. It was a box, hard to make out what it was but it seemed heavy. Miguel clawed and the large hand extends towards you and you screw your eyes shut, hell did you pray to any god that was willing to listen to you so please please please-

“Bring your face closer.” 

Huh?

Cautiously, you open your eyes to Miguel’s face inches away from you, a warm light bathes over his features, making the lines of worry and fear evident. “Let me see your wounds.” 

You blink, once, twice, owlishly, making the man before you sigh and cup your jaw softly. He turns your face to inspect it before he brings his other hand which wipes your fringe away from covering any other possible wounds. 

He hums. “Looks like just scratches.” 

The mystery box turns out to be a first aid kit. Miguel flicks it open and rummages around in it before he pulls a couple of bottles and bandages out. 

“Take off your suit top, we need to treat that burn before it gets worse.” He demands. You cough before awkwardly peeling off what's left of your suit before dropping it on the carpeted floor. You need to get that repaired.

You couldn't bear to meet Miguel's eyes. Not when he’s kneeled in front of you, his usually intimidating body looking small as he’s hunched over. He looks tired, his frown is a mixture of worry and annoyance, but there is something beneath it. Something you don't dare to think about but you know. You always knew. From the first day, you finally managed to see that crack in Miguel’s hardened exterior, you’ve been scared to make another move toward him. Behind this wall of a man, is a heart guarded with spikes and what he has in his eyes right now as he’s wrapping a cooling pad around your arm is something that petrifies you. 

“Next time you’ll be doing missions with me and me only. I won't be assigning you to any other spiders until you learn to take care of yourself,” He huffs, unveiling another roll of bandages.  He pulls at your shoulder which makes you turn slightly. 

"Fucking hell, ¿cómo puedes ser tan descuidado? You run around saving everyone else but who’s going to save you, huh?" He huffs, wrapping the last of the bandage slightly too tight which makes you wince. He notices but does nothing. 

Once again, he holds your chin between his fingers as your gazes suddenly meet. Miguel growls with how you won't meet his eyes, firmly pointed anywhere but into Miguel’s red eyes. He sighs before letting you go as he takes out some ointments. He puts the substance on your cheek and under your slowly blackening eye, then down your jaw where you know a pretty bad bruise taints your skin. You feel his movement slow before his hand rests on your nape, sending jolts of warmth through your body.

“Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate." His voice devastatingly soft. 

Confusion and a steady wave of feelings start at the bottom of your heart, which only worsens as you finally find the courage to look at Miguel. To your surprise, his eyes are wider than usual, pools of crimson oozing with care as he scans your features. His thumb rubs at the base of your skull. “I can't lose my right-hand man.” 

He sighs. “Please, necesito que estés seguro por mí,"

You inhale sharply. Without realizing it, he's practically inches away from you. Your heart races, beats out of your control when Miguel rubs your nape again. 

“Miguel…?” 

A beat passes. Silence. 

Before Miguel growls roughly and promptly stands, taking the med kit with him. He makes his way to what you assume was his wardrobe. Panic rises beside you, making you wave around your hands. “I- Um- Miguel please I didn't mean to- Oof!”

Something was thrown at you. Something soft and large and is this hit shirt and… boxers?! 

“Change your clothes. You can't sleep in those.” Miguel points out, his scowl now a pout on his lips. 

“But-”

“I'm not saying this twice.” He growls before he slides into the bathroom and leaves you in his bedroom along with the pile of his clothes in your arms. 

You slowly look down at what you're holding. Carefully, you slide off what's left of your suit and drop them in a discarded pile before pulling on Miguel's clothes. To no one's surprise, you're practically drowning in the shirt. His boxers barrel fits you and the first goes over your tighs easily. You feel smaller even for your height and stature, but it feels… safe. 

The door of the bathroom slides open to reveal Miguel standing with slightly damp hair as he's drying it off with a towel and in nothing but gray sweats. Something grows within you and it’s definitely something else besides your heart. 

“Ah, you're done,” He glances toward you before setting the towel down neatly. He saunters to the side of his large bed, pulling the covers off before sliding in. An arm keeps the cover slightly open, before he raises an obvious brow.

“Get in here and sleep,” He huffs. 

You jump and quickly slide beside Miguel, careful to keep an inch of a distance. But that was deemed unsuccessful when the man beside you pulled you to his side, and his arm wrapped protectively around your middle which made you drape your hand over his chest. Before you can squirm, he locks his chin over your head with a content sigh. 

Shit, he really is a giant lion. You sigh. 

“Sleep. You need your rest to heal.” Miguel’s voice purrs through you while you're practically glued to his side. You chuckle slightly before pressing a peck just below his jaw.

“You sleep too.” You smile. “Good night Miguel.” 

You hear Miguel hum before he presses his lips to your crown. “Good night.” 

Translations:

how can you be so careless? = cómo puedes ser tan descuidado

Take care, huh? Take care of yourself. = Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate.

I need you to be safe for me, = necesito que estés seguro por mí,

Reblogs are appreciated <3

[jqmalikhsgib]

quest

seven

warning: mentions of sexual relationships

when you parked your car at the coffee shop emily told you to meet aaron your heart pounded. you had no idea what was coming. all you knew was he was upset.

he had every right to be. you kept his kids from him. you didn’t even let him explain what emily saw. come to think of it, you didn’t even let emily explain.

as soon as you heard her utter the words ‘i saw hotch and haley in his office’ you ended the call. you couldn’t hear anymore. but knowing what you do now, you felt you deserved everything coming to you.

spotting aaron sitting at a table you take a deep breath and head inside. you sit right across from him and give him a small smile.

aaron hands you a cup. “decaf still, right?”

you hum as you take a sip. “thank you.”

the two of you sat in silence for a minute. it felt longer though. you missed him. everything about aaron you missed. you missed the way he smelled, his beautiful smile, the way he made you laugh, the way he listened. you missed his touch.

his touch,

god did you miss the way aaron touched you. rather it would be as simple as holding your hand or the way he would hold you when you fucked.

aaron could be a gentle lover. he would whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he made love to you. tell you how beautiful you were and how good you were to him.

but he was also rough! if he got a little jealous or you two argued about something so minor, he’d fuck you like you meant absolutely nothing to him! and you loved it.

you tried not to think too much about it, but you noticed he has been working out. his muscles were bulging more than before.

you also noticed he still wore his wedding band. something you felt a sense of pride in. despite being divorced he still showed everyone he was taken. even if it weren’t true.

you did the same. you loved aaron. knowing you could never move on from the man that gave you the best years of your life and the three, four babies you adored! nothing would ever change that. if wearing the ring meant you would never be with anyone else again, you were okay with that.

“should we start?”

you didn’t know what to say. just humming as he cleared his throat.

“i made a promise to you i would love you unconditionally. i married you because i meant every single word. and i would never intentionally hurt the woman i love. i broke that vow by having an emotional affair with my ex wife. i hugged her for too long, held her hand, kissed her cheek, even cuddled her from time to time. but i never went as far as sleeping with her. and i wouldn’t have blamed you if you wanted to divorce me after knowing the truth. instead you left. part of me kinda happy you did. foyet was after me and my family. it’s one of the reasons why haley and i reconnected. i needed him to see he could never break this family up. fortunately he didn’t know about you,”

“what do you mean?”

“i made sure the team kept you hidden from the moment we met. i didn’t need anyone to know i had remarried. if i could go back i would have done the same with haley.”

you wanted to hold his hand. you knew he was still grieving. haley was his first everything. completely losing her destroyed him. on top of losing you all in the span of a few months apart. he went through hell for the longest.

“after foyet died i tried finding you. i even tried to get penelope to trace you. she declined. i was very pissed i almost fired her. but she wanted to protect you. i couldn’t be mad at that,”

“aaron, im sorry. i—i thought with me out of the picture you’d be better off. i wanted you to be happy. i knew it would have been a hard decision if i stayed. i didn’t want you to choose me because i was pregnant. i wanted you to choose me because you loved me.”

“they’re my kids too yn! mine! you left knowing this. knowing that you were carrying our babies. i didn’t get to be there for them. i didn’t get to hold you hand while you gave birth, wake up all hours of the morning to feed them or change them, watch them start to crawl, watch them walk for the first time, i miss two birthdays yn!! two. you made that decision for me. you made the decision to leave and take our children with you. i—knowing this, finding this out from jj, i didn’t know how to feel.”

you turned your head guilty. you couldn’t look him in the eyes. you knew as soon as you did the tears would just come pouring out.

the two of you stayed silent for awhile. aaron clears his throat before speaking.

“i promised jack i would bring you home. please don’t break his heart again.” aaron states. he leaves money on the table before leaving you alone with your thoughts.

when you arrived at your sister house you sigh. all you wanted to do was hug your babies. you missed them and needed a little comfort right now.

the moment you saw them playing with their cousins you smiled. they were the cutest. you always wanted them to know their older cousins.

“mamma!” izzy was the first to spot you. she waddles her way towards you.

“izzy!” you copied her.

“miss mamma.” she smiles at you.

“miss you too baby. you and your siblings.”

“up, mummy!” aurora raises her arms.

you gently pick her up. you missed when you use to be able to carry all three of them at the same time. now they were bigger and a lot heavier. you could only pick them up in twos.

you kiss aurora’s cheek as you son walks over to you. he pulls on your shirt. you bend down to his level and set your other two babies down.

“hows my shy boy?”

he shrugs his shoulders. you frown. you really wished he was a little more outgoing. but you couldn’t blame him. you were just as shy growing up. you still are.

you kiss theo’s cheek gently. “mama missed all three of her babies.” you hug your kids tightly. not too tight. but enough.

“mama! you being silly.” isabella laughs.

“oh, am i?!” you start to tickle them. she giggles uncontrollably. you laugh before kissing them on the forehead.

“why don’t you go play with your cousins while i talk to your aunt, okay?”

your three mini me’s walk over to their cousins as you walk towards your sister.

“so, how’d it go?”

you sigh. “as good as it could. he wants me to move back home.”

“you have a life here though. he can’t expect you to pack your bags and move three two year olds!”

“i don’t know abby. i did take two years away from him and the triplets. plus i have a son back home who misses me.”

“well are you two gonna at least work your shit out? because if not then what?”

you shrug. “i gotta at least try, yeah? you didn’t see abby! we both still have our wedding bands on. legally we’re divorced but mentally and emotionally we’re still married. i have to fight for my marriage.”

“i understand little sister. i just worry. with everything that just happened i don’t want you to spiral. plus, i just got you back. i don’t want you to leave.” abigale pouts.

“i know. but ill be back to visit!”

“promise?”

“swear it.”

you two continue to talk. catching up on everything you missed before you headed out to figure out your move.

aaron had came by the next morning to help you pack and to meet the kids for the first time. he was nervous and excited all in one.

he knew what it was like to raise one child for nine years. now he was transitioning from one to four. he still couldn’t believe it.

he was a father of four. four beautiful kids who he adored. he already loved his babies. he couldn’t wait to raise them with you. and hopefully work your shit out to have more in the future.

when he arrived you weren’t shocked at all he had went shopping. he spoiled jack so much you just knew he’d spoil your other three.

“hi.”

“hey. come in! the kids are in their pen.” you opened the door wider to allow him inside. aaron smiles as he walks to the living room.

he got a bit of a glimpse of them the other day. seeing them face to face like this made him gasped. all three, beautiful as ever. you two made the cutest little babies.

“izzy, theo, roe! id like you to meet someone.” the three of them look up at their mom and sees a tall man. they had no idea who he was but he looked friendly.

“who’s that mamma?” izzy was the first to ask.

“remember how i told you daddy was off being a super hero and catching the bad guys? how he’d be back to take us home? well, he’s back. and he’s right there.”

“papa?” theo questioned.

aaron bends down. “that’s right! im your dad little buddy.”

“daddy!” izzy walked over to aaron and hugs him. aaron chuckled as he holds his daughter.

“love daddy.” aurora states.

aaron wanted to shed tears in that moment. but he held himself together and hugged all three of his kids as they walk over to him.

“goin home to brudder?” theodore asked.

“yeah. going home to brother.”

slow burn but not too slow because i don’t have the time for the shit! i want them together!!!!!

but how did you guys like this part? i think it’s cute! had to put the babies in there. they’re adorable

peep aaron already planning to have more kids with the reader!!

if you wanna be added or unadded to the taglist please let me know

taglist:

@ivebeenthearchersstuff @shergoretzxx @slut4ethan @rosiehale23 @madesavage05 @whotfskai

[sourgreenlupin]

thinking about sirius confessing to remus, but they get into a fight before he has the chance. (happy ending dw)

sirius had been acting weird for the past week, he had the realisation that he felt differently towards remus than he did towards james or peter. he felt an entirely different form of love for remus.

sirius had been avoiding remus at every opportunity. if remus asked, he was now enthralled by his studies.

every time they were in a room alone, sirius made up some bullshit excuse to leave. and remus started to believe it was his fault.

it took james pulling sirius aside and lecturing him to finally knock sense into him.

‘sirius, i don’t know what your problem with moony is. but you need to pull it together. i’ve had enough of remus crying because you won’t even look at him. if he did something wrong, tell him. but you can’t keep doing this.’

‘what! he didn’t do anything! nononono. this was all me. he’s perfectly fine!’ sirius couldn’t believe remus was taking this out on himself.

‘then fucking talk to him! fix things! im tired of having to pretend nothing is different. deal with it.’ and james left sirius alone, to spiral on the staircase.

when sirius finally pulled himself together, he decided to talk to remus at that very moment. he knew what he wanted, and if avoiding him was hurting remus, then merlin was he going to fix that.

sirius finds remus in the common room, and for the first time in a while, he doesn’t immediately hatch an escape plan.

‘remus?’

‘yeah, i know. you’ve got homework to do. bye.’

‘what? wait, that’s fair. but, actually, i wanted to talk?’ sirius knew this wasn’t off to a great start.

‘after just ignoring me for a full week? funny.’ while the hostility was deserved, it still stung sirius.

‘remus i’m sorry. i just- i had to figure things out. but im ready now. and i would prefer if we didn’t fight about this.’

‘sirius, i’m not sure if you’ve realised, but fighting is all we know how to do! you ignored me without a single hint as to why for an entire week! things aren’t just immediately going to be okay.’

‘if you would shut the fuck up for a second. im trying to apologise. let me.’

‘why should i? huh? every time your emotions run haywire you throw me to the side! you expect me to cater to your every thought without ever telling me anything! i’ve tried and tried to be there for you, and you never let me!’

‘remus-‘

‘no! sirius, im so tired of playing this game. one minute you’re all over me, and the next we’re barely even friends. figure it out.’

‘if you would let me fucking talk. i did figure it out. i spent all week figuring shit out.’

‘sorry. i just- i have a full week of tears and anger to get out.’

‘i understand. and i probably deserve it,’ there’s a beat of silence, remus finally giving sirius the room to talk, but sirius can’t get it out, ‘actually, i think it might be easier for me to say it if we’re yelling at each other.’

‘oh, do you want me to keep going? i can. just interrupt when you’re ready?’

‘awe, how sweet of you. yes, please.’

‘you pull this shit once a fucking month at this point, then come crawling back to me, expecting things to be exactly how they were-‘

the perfect moment.

‘well, this time, i don’t want things to be how they were!’

they both go silent. the room is suffocating sirius. it’s out there. open for interpretation.

finally, remus speaks, ‘padfoot? what do you mean?’

‘i spent the last week trying to come to terms with the fact that i’m in love with you, moony.’

neither boy is breathing. remus’ brows knit together. is this just a joke? is sirius trying to fuck with his feelings? is that why he ignored him? did he find out somehow?

‘if you don’t feel the same remus, it’s really okay, i just couldn’t have you beating yourself up about me being stupid. i just- i couldn’t look at you without wanting you.’ sirius feels vulnerable. and remus can see it in his stance. he’s being truthful.

there’s more silence. remus is analysing every twitch of sirius’ muscles.

and sirius breaks it again, ‘and if this is like a dealbreaker i understand. if you don’t want to be friends i get it. or we can pretend this never happened.’ he’s sweating at this point. why won’t remus just say something.

‘i would hate to stay friends after this.’ but remus is smiling. those are extremely contradicting actions.

‘remus- i don’t- i don’t understand.’

remus stands up, and makes his way over to sirius, ‘i don’t want to be friends. i haven’t wanted to be friends for a long time,’ and then his hand is in sirius’ hair and the other is on his jaw and his eyes are flittering down to sirius’ lips merlin, hes pretty, ‘is this okay?’

‘fucking obviously,’ and sirius is crashing forward and his arms are wrapped around remus and pulling him in closerclosercloser. tongues and teeth and gasping inhales of wantneedplease.

when they finally pull apart, sirius’ arms stay wrapped around moony, any distance away is too far now.

‘just as good as i imagined,’ sirius pants out.

‘is that so? i’ve gotta say, you’ve exceeded expectations.’ remus closes his eyes, and leans his forehead against sirius’.

‘so, uh, no longer friends?’

‘i’d really prefer if we weren’t, padfoot.’

‘kiss me again?’

‘my pleasure.’

[rottenrosethorns]

Leon or Carlos with a chubby! reader? Maybe... smut??? I love your work😭🫶

Pairing: Carlos Oliveira x chubby!Reader 

Genre: Established Relationship AU, Smut 

Synopsis: Carlos’s arms aren’t just for show. He’s ready to show you how strong he can be to hold you as he worships every inch of your body. 

Word Count: 3.4K 

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT; body image insecurity, pet name: sunshine, spanking, lingerie, mirror sex, fingering, air sex? Idk, body worship, praise kink 

A/N: CARLOSSSS !! latin men >>> ahem ahem anyways thank you for supporting me and requesting this!! I hope you enjoy it <33 (and if u dont , im so sorry i literally wrote this on a red eye flight with a fever :P )

…..

- masterlist - 

…..

Was this too much? 

You twisted your body, analyzing your figure through the floor length mirror. Spring was here, the sky was clear and the breeze was warm. Thus, warranting you to have a rare sliver of confidence to dress up for your lunch date with Carlos. Conjured in your mind, you thought you were going to pull off the outfit stored deep in your closet; however, physically being in the outfit redacted your confidence and called forth the insecurities which made you bury this outfit in the depths of your closets way back when. 

It wasn’t that the outfit was bad, per say. It’s just that the folds and flow of the fabric wasn’t falling where you wanted it to or how you wanted it to. You were a perfectionist when it came to looking good for Carlos – although his arguments always say otherwise – and currently, you did not feel perfect. So, you spent the next few minutes second guessing whether or not you should change your clothes, redo your hair, and add more makeup. 

“Almost ready, sunshine?” Carlos peeked his head through the door of your shared bedroom instantly fixating his vision on your figure. 

“Almost,” You mumbled, fixing your hair in the mirror before turning to Carlos and gesjuring towards your body nervously. You’d made it a habit to ask him how you looked before going out, although he always had the same but caring response, “Do I look okay?”

Carlos shuffled his way over towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and giving you a chaste kiss, “You look perfect.”

You returned his kiss with another before glancing at the mirror again, “You don’t think I should I change?”

“Is there something wrong?”,” Carlos furrowed his brows, “I can buy you something else if you don’t like it.”

With the way that Carlos was looking at you, you would’ve felt guilty for putting yourself down, especially since he was the type to drop everything and worship the ground you walked on just to get that thought out of your head. As much as your insecurities hurt you, disappointing Carlos hurt you more, so you did your best to suck up your worries and not dampen the mood for a happy date night. 

You shook your head, deciding to just deal with your outfit. Thankfully, Carlos dismissed it and led you towards his overly fancy sports car and choosing the one of your favorite color. Although his fancy car came with an equally fancy key fob which automatically opened the passenger door, Carlos still made it a point to run around his car and manually open it for you. 

“Why thank you, kind sir,” You teased, ducking to crawl into the lowered vehicle. As you ducked, Carlos not-so-sneakily checked out your ass before giving you a lighthearted smack and earned a small yelp from you. Carlos was quick to close the passenger door as he laughed from hearing your muffled scolding from outside the car. 

Once he seated, you slapped his arm, wincing when your fingers connected with toned muscles. Pouting, you held your hand close to your chest in feigned pain and muttered, “Damn you and your biceps.”

Carlos smirked, taking your injured hand in his and pressing a soft healing kiss to your knuckles, “And, you love them.” 

You looked out your window to try to hide your blush, not wanting to give Carlos the satisfaction of teasing you. Momentarily, he released his hold on your hand to start the car and change shift gears before settling his one hold on your thigh and the other on the steering wheel. Once recovered from your blush attack, you peeked over and giggled as you watched his messy waves get tousled even more from the rolled down windows, “So, do I get to know where this mystery date is?”

“That ruins the surprise, doesn’t it?” Carlos continued to rub your thigh, hands large enough to cover most of your skin. From the surfaces where he couldn’t reach with his open palms, Carlos made up for it by tracing random patterns back and forth from left to right. 

You exaggerated a groan, hating surprises from Carlos. Undoubtedly, you loved it when he planned cute dates for you, but this man was extravagant enough to book a two week stay in Bali and call it a date night. Despite this, you graciously let him off the hook with a shake of your head before zoning out for the rest of the car ride. Sitting in comfortable silence, your consciousness was regained when the vehicle approached a fancy sky high building near downtown. 

“You’re kidding…” You spoke breathily with disbelief as you looked at the three star Michelin restaurant you’ve always wanted to go to, “How…?”

“That’s for me to know, sunshine,” Carlos took your hand and pressed a kiss with his smirking lips, knowing that he’d done a good job impressing you. Exiting the car, Carlos passed his keys to the conjoined hotel valet and helped you out of the car. 

You felt bad about stepping on the cleanest red carpet you’ve ever seen in your life, but you sucked it up once the red carpet led you towards an even more expensive looking marble flooring of the hotel lobby. Clinging on Carlos’s arm, you tugged him down to whisper, “Don’t you think we’re kinda underdressed?”

You squirmed as your eyes meet the grand chandelier, intricately framed paintings, and well-dressed staff members. Saying that you felt self-conscious was a major understatement. 

“Kinda? We’re very underdressed,” Carlos pointed out like it was obvious. 

You pinched his arm in retaliation, “I asked you if I should change! You knew we were coming here!” 

The stubble of his beard prickled your hairline as he reassuringly kissed your temple, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.”

Your mild annoyance was quickly dissipated as you recanted previous dates with Carlos. It was true he always planned your dates very well, always having every detail accounted for and a Plan B for unsuspecting events. But still, you could’ve at least walked the carpet looking done up! 

“I’ll meet you later, okay?” Carlos gently pushed your grip off his arm, causing you to panic from the thought of being left alone. 

“Wait, where-”

Carlos didn’t wait for your response as he separated from you, going into a separate elevator and flashing you a cheeky smile accompanied with a wink. You would’ve grumbled out a curse at his retreating figure if a heavily French accented voice interrupted you. 

“Carlos Oliveira’s guest?” 

You turned to accompany the voice with a short, older woman, clad from head to toe in designer brands and accessories. You politely introduced yourself with a soft smile towards the woman before being escorted beyond the lobby. 

“Please follow me this way.” 

Nervously, you followed the woman closely, not willing to get lost in the very tall and expensive building. You feared that even looking at something for too long could cause it to break, and you definitely did not have the funds to financially recover from your clumsiness. Stepping into the elevator, you mustered up some small talk to kill the silent awkwardness. You figured out that this woman named Ludivine, was a personal stylist flown out from Italy. Her career and experience was riddled with luxury as she mentioned having many encounters and personal relationships with some of high fashion’s biggest brands. 

“So, where are we going?” 

“Monsieur Carlos requested that we prepare you,” Ludivine explained, “He said, make them look like a God that walked the Earth to enchant their people with their grace. I can already tell you must deal with a handful being with an admirateur like that.”

You coughed to cover your choke from Carlos’s explicit verbiage. You made a mental note to scold him later for it. The small chime of the elevator drew you from your thoughts as Ludivine showed you to your suite which housed an entire team of stylists, makeup artist, and hair dressers. One section of the room transformed to the equivalence of the behind the scenes studios of any global fashion week. One crisp snap of Ludivine’s manicured fingertips sent the team scarabling as they hovered around you and began to prep your appearance. From cleaning to settling the finishing touches, you felt like Katniss getting ready for her interview as the workers completely altered her appearance as a coal miner’s daughter to a prim and proper woman. 

After what felt like hours sitting and waiting, the team finally revealed your freshened look. You were definitely more done up than what you’d do to yourself, but it still had that natural and comfortable feel. You were impressed with their work and thanked them. From the corner of your eye, you spotted a clothing rack filled with various expensive fabrics protected in plastic dust bags, “Am I wearing these?” 

You sifted through the clothing rack, inspecting each hanger one by one and determining which one suited your best style. 

Ludivine shook her head, “Non, mon cher. Monsieur Carlos had insttructed us to dress you in something personally chosen to his liking.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Carlos rarely ever commented about your clothing choice, let alone being the one to choose your outfit. He was a firm believer that you were allowed to wear whatever you wanted as long as you felt comfortable in it. After all, he made it a point that he could fight whoever decided to bad mouth or nonconsensually touch your figure anyways. 

Ludivine brought in the outfit and hung it up on the bathroom door. As curious as you were, the cotton protective sleeve over the outfit kept your glances at bay. Focused on the outfit, you missed Ludivine sneaking in a fancy box and handing it to you, “Please change into this and come out when you’re done.”

You took the box with you into the bathroom. Placing the box into the counter, you unraveled the silk bow and took off the top to reveal a black laced lingerie set. Taking a closer inspection, you noticed the center of the bra bejelwed with the letter “C” amongst the lace and sheer mesh fabric. This set offered no coverage at all, especially the bottom half with nothing but a string covering your ass. 

Obediently, you quickly dressed and threw on the provided bathrob before heading back out to Ludivine, “Please keep your eyes closed.”

You nodded compliently, thinking about the consistency of Carlos and his surprises as you closed your eyelids and patiently waited in your bathrob. You hear a series of shuffles which sounded as if she were walking out of the room instead of towards the location of where the outfit was hanging. 

“Ludivine? Ludivine, are you still here?” You called her name out many times, hoping to hear some sort of indication from her presence still in the room. Silence accompanied your voice as you grew worried. Just as you were about to open your eyes, the sound of a zipper and rustling fabric calmed your nerves from the fear of being left alone. 

You were aided into wearing your clothes, cautiously stepping into it one leg at a time. Once fitted and securely snuggly on your body, familiar arms enclosed around your waist, causing you to melt into the touch and open your eyes, “Since when did you become part of Ludivine’s stylist team?”

“Since I saw your outfit on the store’s mannequin and pictured you underneath me in it,” Carlos pressed a kiss on the soft spot of your neck, causing you to shrink back from being tickled. Carlos followed your movements until he had you backed up against a wall made of one large sheet of mirror which reflected just about every inch in the hotel suite. 

Face to face, Carlos looked you up and down to admire his work before pressing his lips on yours, giving you the most gentle kisses you’d ever received. He treated you as if you were so fragile even breathing could corrupt your innocence. His lips moved down to your neck again, eliciting a soft but muffled moan from you. 

“None of that, even your voice is perfect.”

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t we be leaving?” You said inbetween his kisses, although not really wanting to leave his arms. 

“You don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been acting?” Carlos’s hands began to run up and down the sides of your body, squeezing and caressing every so often. Once at your hips, Carlos pulled you forward to rest against his hips and slowly grinding on you. You whimpered, pressing your things together as he snuck his hands to grope your ass. 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know. I’ve seen they way you’ve been looking at yourself and how you always ask me if you look good,” Carlos licked the shell of your ear before teasingly nibbling, “Don’t forget I notice everything about you.” 

Carlos wrapped his hands under your thighs and tapped twice. Responsively, you got halfway to lifting yourself up before planting the soles of your feet back onto the ground defeatedly, “I can’t. I’m too heavy for you.” 

Carlos’s heart broke as he watched you shrink back, arms crossing as if to shield his view from your body. With a newfound flare of passion, Carlos turned you around and pressed your face on the cool mirror, “Let me prove you wrong.”

You couldn’t help but stick your ass out and desperately rub against Carlos’s hard on through his dress pants. Carlos grabbed a handful of fabric and harshly tugged on it, ripping the top half completely off of you before the entire thing collapsed around your feet. 

“I should’ve chosen something easier to fuck you in,” Carlos grumbled in annoyance, “Oh well.”

You gasped in shock, turning your head upwards to look at Carlos through the mirror’s reflection, “Carlos! That was-” 

Carlos shushed you by slipping your thong to the side and sliding his fingers through your wetness, “Don’t worry about that, just focus on me. Eyes on me, sunshine.” 

Carlos dipped his fingers again, teasing your clit before sinking a finger in. You mewled in response, watching through the mirror as his fingers disappeared within you. Carlos only gave you a second to adjust before kicking your legs further apart and burying another finger into you. Your hands stretched across the mirror, a small fog of condensation forming from how sweaty you were becoming. Carlos hawkeyed you through the mirror, eyes trailing all over your outstretched body, “Look at how well you wear my lingerie. Lace looks so good on you, I think I want to fuck you with it still on.”

Carlos curled his fingers, whispering sweet nothings into the shell of your ear. Your orgasm was building up with the familiar tightness settling in your lower abdomen. Slightly bending your knees for Carlos to have easier access, you made the mistake of looking downwards. Just as you were on the edge of cumming, Carlos ceased his movements and removed his fingers, leaving you desperately unsatisfied. He used his other hand to caress your chin and tilt your view upward to see him in the reflection, “I thought I told you to keep your eyes on me. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already this fucked out?”

You shook your head weakly, mildly disappointed at yourself for forgetting a simple rule. Nonetheless, Carlos was feeling generous today, prompting him to spin you around and press his body against yours. He rested his forehead against yours, giving you another gentle kiss, “Can I continue?”

You gulped, feeling nervous about being eye to eye with Carlos. Nodding your head, you spoke, “You can. Can you undress too?”

Carlos’s heart ached with how cute you were under his gaze. He shook his head, bringing both of your hands and placed it on his chest, “Do it yourself.”

You slid your hands, all along his torso and relished in the feelings of his muscles under your fingertips. Your curious hands made their way to the buttons of his shirt and slowly worked your way through them. Once all unclasped, you brushed off the crisp white shirt and let it fall to the floor neighboring your ripped attire. You took a second to admire his physique, never failing to leave you breathless. You trailed your hands over his abs, relishing as your hands felt the texture of his chest hair and happy trail. Looking up at Carlos, you thought you’d be met with his signature smirk, yet you were surprised to see him waiting patiently for you to explore him. Non-judgemental and non-condemning. With that in mind, your hands lowered to his happy trail to unbuckle his belt and push down his dress pants just low enough to free his erection. Without notice, Carlos wrapped your hand around his cock to stroke him, “This is what you do to me. This is all you, no one else.”

Releasing his hold on your hand, he massaged them into your hips again, “Let me show you how perfect you are.” 

Hesitant yet curious, you agreed and took a deep breath to prepare for whatever Carlos was brewing in his mind. Without a second delay, Carlos took himself into his hand and guided himself into you. You went to curl one leg up to allow him more space to thrust into you, but Carlos had other plans as he hooked both legs in the nook of his arms and supported all your weight. He took a moment to adjust before stepping away from the mirror wall and holding you completely. Startled, you clasped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself as close as possible to him, “Carlos! You’re going to drop me!”

Carlos chuckled, flexing his arms as if to show off his strength, “I’m never gonna drop you.” 

He kissed you lovingly once more before his eyes darkened with lust, “Hold on, Sunshine, because I’m gonna fuck the insecurities out of you.”

Carlos proceeded to prove his point by lifting you up with both your legs hooked over his forearms and bouncing you up and down on his cock. You clenched from fear, having never been in this position before. Carlos grunted as he felt your muscles constrict against his shaft, “You feel so good, no one can take me as much as you do.”

Carlos pressed a loving kiss on your shoulder, a reminder to you that he’ll always be there to take care of you. Melting from his kiss, you relaxed in his arms and let him bear your weight. He hoisted you up, thrusting into you again before setting a steady pace. Everytime, he let gravity aid him to bottom out as the slaps of your skin echoed throughout the suite. Your nails dug into him as he voiced out his pleasure in your ear, letting you hear how good you were making him feel. He shifted, so that you could see the both of you in the mirror, “Everything about you is perfect. You are my favorite part about you.” 

Squatting, Carlos readjusted your weight and pistoned faster into you, “Look at how pretty you are, doing so well for me.” 

Your hands tangled themselves into his messy hair, pushing it back to place sloppy kisses on him. Your moans got louder as Carlos steadied his pace, bringing you towards your much needed orgasm. He felt the walls of your pussy constrict around his wet cock again, letting him know that you were near, “Carlos, I’m- I’m-”

“Shh, I know. Don’t hold back, let it go. Cum for me, Sunshine,” Carlos urged you with another deep thrust before you withered completely in his arms. Your body fell limp against him as he held you safely and walked you to the bed. Putting you down, you took a moment to catch your breath, “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I can do anything for you,” Carlos leaned over to kiss you. 

You laughed, “Should we get going now?”

Carlos’s eyes hungrily looked over you and your lingerie clad body, licking his lips, “You thought I was done worshipping you? That was just the first course.”

[ludinusdaleth]

hi y'all, it's officially been 1 year since i started T!

it's been a wild, wild year and, tumblr willing, im gonna share some progress photos.

here's a pic i took right after my first injection vs now. i think the most noticeable yet subtle sign of my transition might be just getting broader & thicker in every aspect and you can tell that down to my face shape & nose & neck.

sideburns, pre t vs now. this in particular makes me so, so happy. and im getting curly beard hairs which means.... i may have a curly beard?? well my mom wins the hair lottery in one way i guess, lol

when i first started noticing chin hairs (i think 2 or 3 months into t?) vs now - kind of have billy goat scruff going on as my body needs to create a neckbeard before a full beard, i guess, but im honestly happy about it. all ive ever wanted was facial hair. and i hope it grows into a massive bushy affair one day. i also definitely have a double chin now and it's honestly very cute & handsome to me.

my happy trail area (and i guess my belly hang, lol), pre t vs now

and some more general body pics (warning, slight but censored ns/fw), pre t vs me now. these..... stun me. not only does the first pic show obvious masculinization of the face but more than that - im bearing up! gaining about 50 to 60 lbs? one of the best things that ever happened to me, and i have t to thank. going from being malnourished for a multitude of reasons to the point it hurt to breathe, vs now being a "big chonker" to my friends. going from being terrified of any sign of being feminine in any way, to practically worshipping my moobs (also hella furry now - but im not posting that here) & learning to accept my hips. feeling like i am not a ghost who cant be touched but a person, maybe a bear today or one day, literally built with fat & muscle to aid & comfort those i care for.

thanks to everyone who has treated me kindly & been accepting over my progress - especially in wishing with all my heart to be a bear. a few years ago i accepted transition as something impossible in texas, and resigned myself to misery with jeers & looks my way, & death threats & isolation. and now.... it feels so opposite. i grin at conservatives looking at me in anger because i know they can be as mad as they want but im still me, and i have a support system, people who treat me so kindly it's made me realize how much goodness really is possible. i used to feel more wraith than alive. now i feel like a wolf with his pack, a fae in his domain. life is a clusterfuck but something ive learned the past while is you must seek the good in it. you must.

and i did.

[sillyandquiteawkward]

ive had a small head start with t due to pcos, it ramped up the beginning of this year, right before i started t, so i already had facial hair growing, and thin hair. for two months i did one pump gel, and for one month ive been doing two pumps of gel. but with those in mind:

More facial hair. mustache is getting darker, but not any longer. new, darker chin hair, all for the most part under my chin. im starting to shave it short every week.

my voice is different, kinda raspy-er. but my friends havent pointed a strong difference out. my voice is cracking at certain points, and shouting in my usual register causes a crack. its getting hard to project. singing hurts my voice a bit more than usual.

instant muscle gainz. im notably stronger, i recover faster, and my muscles have been growing.

tmi, but over just a few days about a month ago, bottom growth just Happened. online resources say its just gonna keep doing its thing lol

horny levels and mood swings are the same as theyve always been. no real change in any strong emotion, anger or patience.

i cant tell if its bc its hot but i sweat a LOT more and i smell a little different. not bad, just different.

hair line remains unchanged, my hair is as thin as its been. body hair is about the same, in some places its a bit darker, but not longer or thicker.

IM HAPPYYYYYYY i smile and laugh and i feel so nice and happy

edit: i forgot bc i dont have periods very often due to my pcos, but i pretty much stopped having a period, altho i feel like my horniess is still on track with what usually would be my period. in 3 months ive had 1.5 periods, all of which happened in the first month.

[cat3ch1sm]

Hi! Can I please request a Prince Soma and Agni head canon on what would they do if their S/o is on her period and then she’s starting to become moody or having bad cramps or what would they do if she accidently stained herself like are they gonna help her, make her feel comfortable or something like that? I know this sounds weird and kinda gross when you think about it but it would be sweet and adorable if these two boys take care their S/o when she is really moody and crampy on that time of her month.

If this request weird you out or you don’t feel comfortable answering it, it’s alright you don’t have to ask that.

P.S I really love your Headcanons especially about Prince Soma and Agni, please keep up the good work!😊👍

🌲~ hello!! im glad you like my black butler headcanons <33 thanks for your request! this is such a cute idea, and it’s not weird or gross at all. periods r totally natural n i stain my shit ALL the time 😭😭 i hope u like it 💚

♡ ̆̈ಇ.-`💚´-ಇ afab!reader

𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝- 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐚

when you’re moody

at first, he won’t understand that you’re moody because you’re on your period. soma will be super confused and panicked when you burst into tears because you accidentally stepped on an ant or when you tell him off for breathing too loudly. it’s Agni who tips him off, and soma is totally embarrassed that he didn’t realize. wanting to make up for his blunder, he will be as understanding and patient as possible with you on your period. he will still lose his patience every so often, but it’s brief because whenever soma starts to get impatient with you he remembers that it’s not you talking, it’s the hormones and stress.

the first time you have your period when you’re dating soma, agni’s basically taking him through the whole thing of making sure you’re happy and healthy. but after a few more periods soma will get it down. not without a mistake or two, of course, but soma just wants to keep you happy. despite agni’s orders, he often strays from the healthy diet agni has him on because he’s a seventeen-year-old kid, so soma has no issue at all bringing you whatever cravings you have. admittedly, it’s a little hard for him to take care of you on your period- not because of you, but because he’s spoiled and used to being the one taken care of. more than once he asks Agni to simply take over for him, but agni flatly refuses. soma is going to learn to take care of you on your period if it kills him

when you stain your clothes

soma sees blood on your pants and literally just goes into panic mode. it does not instantly register that it’s because of your period and he just automatically thinks that you’ve hurt yourself or you’ve got some illness. so he may or may not make a scene and embarrass you greatly, in which case agni will have no choice but to step in and then reprimand him severely about it later. but once he gets the hang of it, soma will simply stand awkwardly behind you, or if you’re at home, sheepishly bring you clothes to change into. agni has to help him wash the clothes or anything else you might have stained because, let’s be honest, soma probably will think it’s a little gross (although it definitely isn’t and staining things happens to everyone with a period).

“Agni, I know it’s natural, but I can’t help it! What if I get sick if I accidentally touch it?!”

“…Prince Soma.”

when you’re sore

soma thought he had this part of periods down pat. he’s had plenty of massages and stuff from Agni, so therefore he should be an expert at giving them, too, right? wrong. when soma sees that you’re cramping and decides that he’ll try and massage you to relieve your pain, he literally just makes it worse by getting all the wrong muscles and the whole thing is just very awkward. soma will get it, though… eventually. but for the time being, it’s agni to the rescue again…😭

𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐢

when you’re moody

agni would instantly know when you aren’t feeling well. he just subconsciously knows all your behaviors and is naturally good at detecting when someone’s energy is off. so when you snap at him for literally nothing or when you get really emotional over something small, agni already saw it coming, and just wants to know what’s wrong so that he can help you. he knows you don’t act like this in general, so he knows something has to be bothering you enough for you to get emotional or lash out.

when you’re feeling like this, you normally aren’t in the mood to hang out with other people a lot, so if you had plans or he had plans with you agni will absolutely reschedule them for you. he’ll do whatever chores you have (even though he doesn’t let you do a whole lot of work anyway) to let you have some time to relax. agni will also do your best to accommodate any cravings you might have- usually he likes for you to eat healthy, which you’re fine with, but when you want sweet or salty stuff on your period agni doesn’t make any comments on it and just brings you what you want to ease your discomfort. he’ll still try and offer you natural foods, just for your sake, but whatever food you want he’ll bring to you regardless.

“Perhaps you will feel a bit better if you have some homemade vegetable curry- it is nutritious and also flavorful. I-“

“…”

“Ah, right. My apologies. I will get you a dark chocolate bar from the kitchen. Dark chocolate has health benefits as well!”

“…thank you, Agni.”

on your period your hormones are more in control of your mood than you are a lot of the time, and you get a lot of mood swings- one second you’re happy, the next you’re crying, and picking fights over insignificant stuff. i think agni would probably keep track of your cycle without you knowing so that he’s prepared to be more patient with you. he just doesn’t engage when you pick an argument, usually simply agreeing with you for the moment. however, agni doesn’t let you just yell and push him around. if you get too rough with him he’ll gently put you in your place.

“My love, I know that you are feeling unwell- but please refrain from using language with me.”

when you stain your clothes

if you’re standing and out in public when this happens, agni will quickly come up behind you and wrap a garment from his own outfit around your waist. you’ll be a little confused, but he won’t want to embarrass you by telling you that you have a stain when you’re with other people. until he can get you alone he remains directly behind you, usually with his hands wrapped around your waist.

if you’ve been laying down and stained your clothes, agni will escort you to the bathroom and bring you clothes and underwear to change into. he won’t make a big thing of it; he’ll just hand you your clothes and wait until you come out the bathroom to bring you back to your bed. if you’ve stained anything else, like sheets or cushions, he’ll change and wash them himself when you’re not there on his own volition. agni doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed at all. he’s a man that understands periods are periods and they’re not going to be neat or pretty. the last thing he would want is for you to be ashamed of a natural process.

when you’re sore

agni is the perfect guy to have around when you’re cramping or dealing with soreness during your period. prince soma has complained of pain plenty of times, and agni has always managed to simply massage the pain away. he does the same with you. he asks you where it hurts and then goes from there. agni will also make you tea or light a few scented candles to soothe you. when you really feel sick and are in need of comfort, he lets you curl up against him and lay on his lap. he makes sure you have a nice, heavy blanket and runs you hot baths when your cramps are especially bad. agni hates to see you in pain. his whole job as a butler is to make sure his master is happy and healthy, and as his partner, that’s his job with you too.

[blub-blub-bish]

Zombie Kenny, but every time he dies, he comes back and slowly becoming a zombie again

A very much self indulgent, Kenny centered, zombie au idea. Aka, a long ass idea that over uses the word “which “ and “HOWEVER “

Long ass idea below cut vvv

Basically, Kenny, who can’t stay dead, got bit in the zombie apocalypse. the first time he got bit, he became a normal zombie, like usual. After around a week, he lost consciousness and ended up in the afterlife.in hell he watched his body, still roaming around on earth, and thought “ oh, this must be it. I’m dead. For good.” Not really sure if he should feel sad or happy, but he’s dead for good. Right?

WRONG.

When his body, that for some reason decompose faster than others, decomposed enough and dies, he came back a normal human. HOWEVER, his body is slowly decomposing again, which has pros and cons.

The pros:

•He’s practically immune, considering he’s like…partially a zombie already

•The zombies think he’s one of them, so now, He can walk through a zombie horde or just wander around without getting chased and shit.

•He doesn’t need much sleep. He only needed around 2 hours of sleep to last 2 days, making him a great night guard.

•Cthulhu took pity on him and decided he would respawn around his allies every time he dies.

•He’s very light, people could pick him up like those school skeleton models and just carry him around.

The cons:

•His body is literally deteriorating, which hurts like a bitch. He feels constantly like he’s slowly dying (which he is)

•Because his body deteriorates over time, at some point, his body is wayyy too weak to function. So he had to either, kill himself, or wait until the virus kill him. Which can take months.

•He usually already have to kill himself every 2 weeks. If he does it over 2 weeks, he would literally lose control over his own body.

•When he lost control over his body (over 2 weeks), he is still conscious. But like watching a movie, he can’t do anything. Just watch. That’s why when he starts to feel like he’s loosing control over his own body, he kills himself.

•After finding allies, he would ask someone he trusted to make sure to kill him if he went over the 2 weeks mark. His allies usually remind him when this happens.

•After a week , he can’t cook for others. 1, because his tongue is usually dead, so he doesn’t taste shit, and 2, because his skin starts to peel, which might fell into the food. Which sucks because my headcanon is that his love language is cooking for others.

•Speaking of food, my guy could only eats meat and chocolate.

• If he doesn’t eat for over a day, he would literally go crazy and bite any meat (human, animal, don’t matter) which would turn the thing that he bites into zombies.(if he doesn’t eat the whole thing)

• The meat and muscles in his body rots, so he smells like shit all the time :v. Mf have to practically bathe in perfume so he doesn’t smell like a corpse.

———-

Why does his body still deteriorates you may ask?

Because Im the writer and I say so./j

The somewhat more logical explanation of that is because he was still conscious for a while after he got bit, aka his body is still somewhat alive. If only the zombies ate him, he would have been able to comeback normal. But they didn’t. So now he had to live with his curse. Womp womp

“Oh, but his curse make people forget he died.” Yes. People still forget that he died. HOWEVER, they still remember that he got bit. They still remember him saying he can’t permanently die and genuinely believe him when he started to look like an actual zombie. Like, his skin starts peeling, his meat and muscles starts rotting (which he usually rips out with a knife bc it smells like shit. Ripping it out also slowed the deterioration process), and bone LITERALLY showing on his arms and legs, yet he still have control over his body.

When he kill himself, he usually comes back after 2-3 days, but if the virus kills him, aka the virus taking over, giving him around 3 very, VERY, painful months, he would come back around a month or 2 . Basically recovering mentally and physically in the afterlife.

Basically, his life sucked for the rest of his existence. Even satan and Damian took pity on him, but they can’t really do anything considering his curse is in Cthulhu’s hands.

[effervescentdragon]

piarles + dreams

inspired by me having to take latin tho i thought i wouldn't have to, @mssr-monagato reminding me how easy it used to be to write them with a comment, me being in a weird mood bcs im studying, and @duquesademiel and @hourcat having bdays i wished to write them sth for but brain did not cooperate. love you all, this one is for you <3

Charles finds him in a dream.

There is always too much to do during the day and Charles gets to his bed eagerly, limbs tired and muscles hurting. Being an artist's apprentice mostly means moving huge slabs of marble and being an artist's muse means holding still in awkward positions for too long a time. The land under his sandals is hot with the remnants of the day's heat and it burns.

He gets to his house and kisses his mother gently before he goes to wash himself down. Some days, when wants to make something too complicated and he does not look too tired, she calls up to him to help with dinner. Lorenzo comes home next from his job in the Senate with scrolls, distracted by calculations and politics both. Arthur arrives last, out all day training with other boys who will be soldiers for the Empire. They all sit down to eat, wine and laughter flowing equally easily, and Charles feels happy enough he wishes he were closer to attaining his mastery in art so he could immortalise the scene of his brothers and his mother joyful and content. These days never seem to last long enough, Charles knows it, and he pushes the storm clouds away from his mind and tries to focus on the moment he's in.

The moment he falls into his bed, Charles dreams of the man.

He does not remember all the dreams. The Gods send him these visions for a reason that he is not privy to, nor will he be for a long time. The Empire is grand and Charles is insignificant in it, much in the way the Empire is insignificant in the eyes of the gods. What stays with him is the sense of yearning so deep he wakes with pain in his chest, his heart leaking sorrow and desire he knows not how to name. He pours it into his art, marble bleeding like his soul is, shattered and jagged as he chases the visage of the man he almost knows, almost recognises, in vain.

In his dreams, the man smiles. The smile is almost wolfish some nights, when the man's blue eyes narrow and his fangs look to be elongated as he presses them softly against Charles' skin, Charles' lifeblood pumping violently in his throat. Some nights, the smile is more vulpine, when the man's lips press against the centre of Charles' chest, like he wants to drink the life from the very centre of Charles' person. What never changes is the way Charles trembles every time, lips parted and heart galloping like the horses do down the streets of their town on the newly set roads.

All roads lead to Rome, the man tells him. Charles knows not what it means, and he never remembers to ask. The man distracts him with the touch of his lips and with the way his hands press down onto Charles' hips.

Who are you, Charles asks him sometimes, when he remembers to. The man usually smiles. I am who you need, he says some nights. I am who you want, he says the other night. Sometimes, he says nothing, only kisses Charles until he forgets to remember what he asked.

What is your name, the man asks him sometimes. Charles, he says, when he remembers. I do not know, he says when he forgets. Does it matter?, he asks in return.

Not many things matter, the man says. His voice carries the same lilt of the Gauls that Charles himself has and has never gotten rid of. What does, Charles asks, curious. The man's eyes shine in the dream landscape that Charles can never focus on, for the man is like the sun to him. Winning, I think, the man says. Winning matters.

Can you win, Charles feels the need to ask every time. Can you win?

The man covers Charles' hand with his. He pulls Charles' hand up, twists his fingers gently until he can play with them. I do not know, he muses, but he does not look worried. I think I may do anything so long as you are here.

Who are you? Charles asks. What is your name, and why are you here?

I am not here, the man always says, and neither are you, cher. The rest of his words get blown away by the wind that rises suddenly every time. Charles never remembers the man's name. The man's lips, though; they taste like honey against Charles'.

He wakes up with the fading taste of honey on his lips and an unavoidable weight on his chest and no memory of his dreams. He rubs his eyes as he goes through his morning absolutions.

Soon he is to accompany his master to Rome for the exhibition. He must finish the sculpture he is working on until then, to take with him on his journey and oresent it at the sculptor's assembly. His master said it was lovely, and where did he get the inspiration for the face, for it was so detailed, it must be someone Charles knows?

"I saw him in my dreams," Charles always replies, laughing, and his master shakes his head in fond exaspeartion. His heart always beats too fast when he says it, like it does when he lies.

He goes back to the sculpture of a man's face. He needs to fix the man's smile, but he knows not how, yet. Charles finally named the sculpture Man, Take 10 just last week, to his master's great amusement, when his master said it must have a name. They all just call it Take 10, for Charles had tried and failed nine times already.

What Charles does not know is that it will be done before they start off for Rome in a month, and Charles will pack it carefully so it does not break. It will be even more lovely than it already is, and it will bring Charles closer to his destiny.

What Charles will tell no one is that in his head, he calls the man Pierre.

[kissablening]

SHIN RYUJIN IS MY WIFE💍💍

Not funny I didn't laugh. Your joke is so bad I would have preferred the joke went over my head and you gave up re-telling me the joke. To be honest this is a horrid attempt at trying to get a laugh out of me. Not a chuckle, not a hehe, not even a subtle burst of air out of my esophagus. Science says before you laugh your brain preps your face muscles but I didn't even feel the slightest twitch. 0/10 this joke is so bad I cannot believe anyone legally allowed you to be creative at all. The amount of brain power you must have put into that joke has the potential to power every house on Earth. Get a personality and learn how to make jokes, read a book. I'm not saying this to be funny I genuinely mean it on how this is just bottom barrel embarrassment at comedy. You've single handedly killed humor and every comedic act on the planet. I'm so disappointed that society has failed as a whole in being able to teach you how to be funny. Honestly if I put in all my power and time to try and make your joke funny it would require Einstein himself to build a device to strap me into so I can be connected to the energy of a billion stars to do it, and even then all that joke would get from people is a subtle scuff. You're lucky I still have the slightest of empathy for you after telling that joke otherwise I would have committed every war crime in the book just to prevent you from attempting any humor ever again. We should put that joke in text books so future generations can be wary of becoming such an absolute comedic failure. Im disappointed, hurt, and outright offended that my precious time has been wasted in my brain understanding that joke. In the time that took I was planning on helping kids who have been orphaned, but because of that you've waisted my time explaining the obscene integrity of your terrible attempt at comedy. Now those kids are suffering without meals and there's nobody to blame but you. I hope you're happy with what you have done and I truly hope you can move on and learn from this piss poor attempt

[barbatusart]

youve probably had this ask before, but do you have any tips or resources on drawing gore without having to look at the actual thing as reference? im good with horror movies and all, but the idea of real shit makes me wanna throw uuup

yes yes and yes absolutely. there’s zero reason to look at the real deal, & frankly im thankful every day genZ has rejected it as hard as they have, cus i know i went on & on about it in ROTTEN but a lot of us millennials on the internet really suffered when gore was commonplace.

THE BIODIGITAL HUMAN: biodigital.com is a phenomenal free 3D medical-grade anatomy resource that will teach you what every solitary fiber of the body is called + where it goes! gore & horror art can be done any way you please, but if you’re looking to make more realism-based work, referencing anatomy & knowing your stuff is key. think of it like drawing a salad having never eaten a salad vs. drawing a salad where you know all the ingredients

GROCERY STORES: next time you’re shopping for groceries, it helps to pay special attention to the meat section! we’re all made of meat after all, so anatomy will teach you where everything goes, and grocery meat will teach you the behaviors of tissue - for instance muscles are soft and fibrous, the fat cell layer is here and behaves as such, skin is around this thick & so on. you won’t find particularly fatty cuts at the grocery store admittedly, so you’ll be missing the key fat cell layer, but that’s where anatomical ref comes in. adding the fat cell layer (yellows and oranges) steps up your work tremendously towards realism! also for any offal on sale (liver tripe etc) this is a great chance to look at organs & take note of their texture & how you would draw such an object

SHOWERS & MIRRORS: the best body ref you’ll ever have is your own self! really poke around and see where your bony landmarks are, where fat sits, & how skin bunches, stretches, & molds. the best thing ever to do too is to set your phone to a timer & then contort into a hideous pose on your floor & then try to draw it lol. self observation like this will help you figure out where the weight of the body moves towards, even if you don’t have much weight on you it’ll still move and behave with certain properties that are super helpful to study

ANY TIME YOU GET HURT BY ACCIDENT: next time you skin your knee or god forbid require sutures is also a fine opportunity for learning! blood is also a tissue & behaves with certain properties - its viscosity, how opaque it is, clotting factors, & so on. blood won’t always be a totally red Mass, it’s got texture & shade to it as well as different hues. don’t forget your browns! color is a big one too - a little orange in the yellow for the fat cell layer, a little purple in the red for muscle fibers, & so on

SURGERY FOOTAGE: the ONE actual life reference i can recommend, and this is only if you know yourself to be of a fair constitution, is youtube footage of surgical procedures such as knee replacements, ectopic pregnancies, top surgery, gastric bypass, small bowel obstruction, etc. clean sterile environments, significant education, & MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL: the knowledge that the patient walked away happy, healthy, & with a new lease on life. this will teach you countless things about anatomy, body structure, tissue behavior & color, you name it!

the most important thing to remember with the body is that anatomy will show you Where it is, meat will show you How it is, but remember that organs & tissues behave different than the models show, as they’re all in one place just for ease of visibility and education. the body is soft & it’s got all sorts of soft stuff in it that wiggles around & shines & makes weird farting noises LOL. think of the body like a cake, & horror art like a cake you dropped on the ground where every layer of it is going to behave differently!

[blood-teeth]

TMITAWH is 2 years old????!!!!

i cant believe i missed it that sounds so ridiculous to me! in my defense, i was driving for two weeks straight

i don't have anything planned for celebration; i'm so sorry! but i do have some updates!

for those that missed it, tmitawh is now a novel and will no longer be told in an interactive fiction format. this has upset a lot of people. i've lost a lot of followers over this announcement. and i can understand this to some extent, but largely i have to continue to be unapologetic about my choices.

this story is one that has, in every meaning of the phrase, saved my life. writing in this little world has gotten me through some of the darkest times and carried me through to the next day. at some point, IF stopped being a media that was capable of telling the story i wanted to tell.

i'm disheartened by a lot of the anons i've received. some are hateful and unkind. others are upset that they no longer will have the opportunity to pursue Cain or Ezio, and a few mention that they're not interested in reading a lesbian story and will not be reading the book if it ever makes it to publication. i've disregarded the first, but the second cuts the deepest i think.

i have never, ever been shy on this app that i'm a lesbian. i feel as though i've talked endlessly about it. being a lesbian is a huge facet of my identity and being told that, in so many words, a story written for myself, with other queer people in mind, is not for them seems like such a stupid thing to say. like, i didnt write it for you. i wrote it for me. i wrote it for the lesbians who love so violently that they have to hide it away under their clothes, in between their teeth. i wrote it for the lesbians who have been told their love is disgusting, or wrong, or sexy and for a male's pleasure only. i wrote it for the lesbians who are told their love is okay as long as they never show it- as long as they only hold hands at most but never kiss in public. i wrote it for the lesbian who sits in pews and breathes over their hands and wonders if God loves them still.

i'm not sorry to not have written a story catered for you when the whole world is for you. leave me out of your self-absorbed, hateful little orbit.

please know, this blog does not tolerate hatred, bigotry, or harassment in any shape or form. and if you're going to fuck around with me, you sure as hell are going to find out with me.

on a more positive note!

i want to thank you all who have been overwhelmingly positive and supportive of my endeavors!! it means the absolute world to me!! i sometimes hold myself at night and think of all the kind words y'all have sent over these past two years and just sob. never in my life before this could i have imagined sharing my work with people who give a shit and care. it warms me in ways i cannot begin to describe. i love you and i hope you are well as always. my inbox/dms are open ANYTIME if you just want to chat, catch up, rant to me, or tell me about your pet. actually, please tell me about your pet.

Some quick publishing updates:

I'm 20k words out of 90k into draft 2. and i think this is going to be the last draft before i query (?????) i'm really very happy with the muscles and bones of the manuscript. now it's just some meticulous line editing i have to work through.

after this, i'm off to the query trenches. (im scared) if anybody has gone through this process before and has any tips, i'd love to hear them!

here's a little excerpt:

"She grabs hard enough to make sure of her presence, not enough to bruise. Some sick part of the Traveler’s brain says, Yes. Please. More. Press deeper. Press harder. Bruise me. Hurt me. She delights in the heat that blossoms from where the Reverie digs her fingers into skin. Eyes earnest, stubborn disposition to her jaw as the thick muscle there flickers in an implication of anger. “I will find you,” she’s shaping her tongue into a dagger at the Traveler’s throat. “I will find you again, and that is a promise.” The Traveler gasps, tilting her head higher. She blinks and— The Reverie’s mouth is on hers, hot and aching, and the Traveler blinks— Want flavors the Traveler’s tongue, the Reverie’s hands pressed tightly against her collarbone, teeth at her jaw. She blinks and— Is this Before or After?"

i also, stupidly, have officially started a twitter that i want to start working with. i know twitter is dead, but it remains to be very useful for publishing. if you'd like to follow me, im there on @ morganhollow25. i dont know how to use it. im scared to use it. but if you have a twitter maybe follow me there too! i absolutely plan to be on tumblr primarily. i love it here and have grown a tiny home in these webs.

i'll have more updates coming soon regarding FTMTB and other works. thank you all again <3