#for a moment i thought you hit your post limit again even though you just got it back /amused

[sunstruck-traveller]

[Changsheng glares at Baizhu and sighs.]

I have been to Sumeru, actually, but I spent most of my time in the Akademiya, so I didn't see much of the nation.

// feeling like it's new thread time

(?)

[Were you a student there?]

[rip-us-xoxo]

Baby number six- George Weasley x Reader (REPOST)

Posted APRIL 16, 2021

Reposted APRIL 16, 2023

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Request-please do a suuuuper smutty george x fem reader where george has a huge breeding kink!

A/n- I love this request sm omgggg! Thx for requesting😘

Warnings- SMUT, breeding kink (duh), dom/sub themes, a little choking, praise, a little degradation, slight daddy kink, please tell me if I missed anything!

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Life with George was interesting to say the least. Besides having 5 kids already, George was obsessed with the idea of you pregnant. Almost everyday since your last child was born, George would bring up the idea of you getting pregnant again and today was no different. 

“Morning darling,” George greeted you as he walked out of your bedroom. You were just sitting at the table, drinking tea, basking in the quiet before your kids woke up. 

“Morning,” you smiled and waited for George to make his way over to you before leaning your head up to give him a kiss.

“Kids aren’t up yet?” George asked, using his wand to have a cup float to his hand. You just shook your head and took another sip. “You should’ve heard little Mason last night, baby wouldn’t stop crying, having a two-year-old is exhausting,” you sighed. 

“Well you’ve done it four times before, two at the same time! You’re doing great,” George praised and leaned down to give you another kiss, but the sound of your twins, Grace and Faith, trampling down the stairs— their names not fitting the situation at all—  interrupted your moment. 

“Mommy, daddy!” they cheered in unison while running straight for you both. Grace ran straight to George and gave him a big hug while Faith jumped in your lap, snuggling up into you. 

“Morning mommy,” she giggled, nuzzling her head into your neck. “Morning baby,” you said while stroking her hair. You looked over to see George swinging Grace around, a small smile coming to your face. 

You loved seeing George with kids, it was the cutest thing. 

“Well I guess since you two are up, daddy and I should start on breakfast for you kids,” you stated, the girls quickly shaking their heads ‘yes’ and running up the stairs to wait. 

You sighed and looked over to George, giving a mutual eyebrow raise, both knowing today was going to be chaotic. 

You and George were right, all day, it was “Mommy!” this, “Daddy!” that. By the time it was time for everyone to go to bed, George went to go tuck in your two oldest children, Fred and Sarah, into bed. Even though Fred was 10 and Sarah was 7, George refused to not tuck them in at night. 

While he did that, you were trying to calm down Mason, who was currently crying, and put him to bed. Grace and Faith were not helping you though, they were running around you with their toothbrushes in their hands. 

“Mommy watch out! It’s the toothpaste monster!” Grace screamed, and Faith ran straight into you, the toothpaste all over her face surely getting on your clothes. You groaned, hitting your limit with them. 

You guys! Your brother is currently crying and you two are not helping!” you yelled. They both stopped in their tracks and looked up at you, Grace’s eyes forming tears in them. They both huffed and ran right out of Mason’s room, followed by a loud bump and George’s voice asking, “Woah, what’s wrong?”. But no little voices answered, all that followed were two more, even louder, huffs and a door slam. 

“Hey, what’s going on with them two? I thought they didn’t get moody until they were older?” George asked, earning a slight glare from you. George put his hands up in defense and that’s when Mason looked over at George and immediately calmed down, making grabby hands at him. 

Your mouth fell open and George just laughed, “Does baby want his daddy? Yes he does!”. George grabbed him from you and rocked him back and forth a few times before setting him down in his crib. You watched in amazement as Mason rolled over, and not after long, tiny snores were heard. 

George quickly grabbed your hand and dragged your flabbergasted body out of the room. “How did you do that?!” you whisper-yelled. George shrugged his shoulders, “What can I say? Kids love me.”. 

“Well then you should be the one carrying them in your stomach because they’re little devils while I’m pregnant with them,” you said turning around to head toward yours and George’s room. 

“Nah, I like seeing you pregnant better,” George said while hurrying to walk behind you. “Well,” he thought for a second, “I guess I should say I like the night that leads to you getting pregnant,” he grabbed you by your wrist and pushed you up again the wall right by your bedroom, “and then when I see you pregnant, oh, you have no idea what that does to me.”. 

You could practically see George’s eyes go from your childrens daddy to your daddy real quick. You gulped slightly and stood a little taller, “As I’ve come to find out,” you said, acting innocent to the whole situation. 

You got out of George’s grip and started to walk into the bedroom, immediately regretting your actions and picking up the pace to save yourself from George’s sexual rath. 

You heard George growl and his footsteps quickly come closer behind you, causing you to squeak and start running. But you weren’t quick enough, George grabbed you from behind and pulled you into him so that your back was firm against his chest. 

“You wanna try running again?” he whispered in your ear. You quickly shook your head no and you heard a low chuckle erupt from George’s throat, “I thought so.”. 

After his grip loosened on you, you turned around and looked up to meet his eyes once more. They were now even darker than before, you now knew that you were either in for a rough night, or George was in his mindset where all he could think about was filling you up. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

“No more wasting time, baby, I wanna fill you up as soon as possible,” he whispered harshly and pushed you down onto the bed. “Second one,” you thought. 

When you noticed that George was eyeing your body that was only covered with a tank top and pajama shorts that were obviously too small for you, you started to get undressed. Slowly though, to not give George what he wants just yet. You started by sensually taking off your shorts, looking him right in the eyes, biting your lip slightly. 

You then slowly dragged your hands up your legs to take off your tank top, but George had already had enough. “Stop being a little tease,” he growled and yanked the tank top off of you. 

He grabbed you and flipped you over, making your ass stick up, and the pair of panties you had on come flying off. “Beautiful,” he gasped, making your head duck down in embarrassment. 

You had always been insecure about what you looked like after you had your kids, but George thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world, especially because of all of your pregnancy scars. 

“I know you don’t believe me, but trust me, I am enamored by you,” George whispered in your ear, dragging his hand down your back, making goosebumps erupt on your skin. 

“I can’t wait any longer baby, you think you can take me now?” George asked, his dick obviously hurting from being contained in his pants. You nodded your head, honestly wanting him already too. 

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled. You shortly heard the sound of his pants and underwear fall to the ground. You turned your head to the side to look at him, and the sight made you involuntarily buck your hips back. 

“Patience baby,” George told you, running a hand over your ass. You groaned and rolled your eyes, looking forward, “You’re one to talk.”. 

George immediately brought his hand down to your throat, grabbing it and forcing you to be upright against his chest. 

“You really need to stop talking, little one,” George whispered in your ear. Oh now he was definitely far gone. All he could think about was dominating you. 

“Yes Georgie,” you gulped. “Glad that you understand,” he chuckled, before fucking right up into you. 

“Oh fuck!” you moaned and threw your head back. “Language,” George hissed, throwing a hand over your mouth, fucking up into you once more. Soon, George set a steady, semi-fast pace. 

Not long after starting, you felt your release coming. And since George knew you like the back of his hand, he knew you were close too. “Come on, baby, you can do it,” George grunted. George’s encouragement made you come undone within a split second. 

You came with a loud moan, muffled by George’s hand. George didn’t stop to let you rest though, he kept going, obviously wanting to achieve his goal. You were too sensitive though, you brought your hand back to grab onto George’s arm, hissing as he picked up his pace. 

“Sensitive, baby?” George asked, to which you quickly nodded your head. George stopped for a second, pulling out and flipping you over so that you were on your back, but immediately pushed back in. 

“Just relax baby,” George told you, grabbing your hands to interlace with them. You nodded your head and threw it back to try and breathe, but the only thing that came out was a fairly loud moan. 

“Shhh, we wouldn’t want to wake up our kids, would we?” George taunted. You looked up and shook your head, biting your lip to try and suppress any moans. 

After a few more minutes, you and George were both close to your releases. “I’m close,” George breathed out, “I know, me too,” you told him. 

When the knot came forming in your stomach again, George just looked in your eyes and nodded, giving you enough motivation to release. 

“Hold on, baby, I am so close,” George told you, knowing that you were going to be overstimulated and sensitive— which he wasn’t wrong— you had tears forming in your eyes from it. 

After saying that, George threw his head back with a moan, his cum filling you up. You both breathed heavily and George pulled out, quickly shoving his fingers into you. 

“We wouldn’t want any to go to waste, would we?” he asked. You shook your head and winced when he shoved his fingers farther in before pulling them out. He watched some of his load ooze out of you. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more perfect sight,” George smiled. You smiled too and put your hands up so that you two could go to the bathroom and get all cleaned up. George grabbed you bridal style and exclaimed, “To the bathroom we go!”. 

After some amazing aftercare, you and George made your way back to your bed, getting under the covers and snuggling into each other. 

“You think you’ll get pregnant?” George asked, hope and excitement laced in his voice. You giggled and looked toward him, “Well, you haven’t failed us before.”. 

“True,” he said cockily and pulled you closer to him, giving you a firm kiss on your forehead, “now go to sleep, my queen, let’s hope baby number six is on it’s way.”.

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xoxo

[mannequinreligi0n]

NSFW ALPHABET: VERGIL

not me coming back to post anything but the third chapter of my priest vergil fic …. anyways, have this in the meantime while i wrestle with writer’s block.

i’d love to do this for dante and possibly whomever else, if there’s any want for it - my inbox is open!

obv nsfw warning for below, tried to keep it gender neutral as well - enjoy!

xoxo, obscura

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

The eternal gentleman, Vergil is doting and attentive - making sure you’re satisfied, cleaned, and content after intimacy. He’ll always clean you before himself, offering water, back rubs, and maybe even a nice bath to get you feeling right again. If it’s in bed, cuddles are mandatory - Vergil sees sex as a bonding activity, and holding you in his arms or lying on your chest is necessary to connect with one another.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Vergil has spent years training to get the perfect physique for fighting. He takes great pride in how he looks, and is not shy about it - but a favorite thing about him? I don’t think Vergil has given it much thought.

It’s a different story with his partner. I will gladly die on the hill that Vergil is an ass man. Vergil loves to grab it, smack it, bite it - just overall handsy. Speaking of, he’s got a thing for hands. He will worship his partner’s hands, seeing them as divine devices capable of such grace and care.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Despite Vergil’s disdain for firearms, this man’s a shooter. He’s unfortunately hit an eye or two during oral with some straggling ropes, and he always feels bad but can’t help it.

He has a preference for coming inside (he will demand it most times, unless you’re adamant for something else). Though, he does appreciate the occasional facial. Something about marking his territory…

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Something tells me that Vergil picks up photography as a hobby when he returns back from hell. It’s harmless, mostly, but it’s strayed into the bedroom and he’s assembling his own photo diary of your sexual rendezvouses. On each page is detailed entries of what happened, what he found interesting, what made you tick, all alongside a photo of you folded like a pretzel or sitting pretty in a new set he bought you. ‘It’s for science’, he’ll say when you find it hidden under some other books on his desk.

I also think Vergil genuinely would love exploring being a sub to some extent. The man’s whole life has been a quest for power and control. But if he found someone he trusted enough, I think he would be willing to relinquish that control for a little bit and be at the whims of someone else. Call him a good boy? Tell him how good he’s making you feel? He’s melting like soft-serve in summer.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Vergil has experience, but it’s limited. The man is not a dog like others are quick to assume due to Nero’s conception, but he did experiment a little in his 20s.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Lotus, standing dragon, and ol’ reliable: missionary

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Vergil is a perfectionist at heart and sex isn’t an exception. It’s very few and between that you’ll have him acting silly during such an intimate act. I think the only time he’d truly be more loose and laughing is if he was inebriated in some way.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Well groomed, may let it grow in if he’s been with someone for a long time due to comfortability. I don’t think he cares how his partner grooms themselves, as long as they are cleanly - to each their own.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sex is about devotion to Vergil. He takes it seriously and ensures his partner feels absolutely valued and worshiped. If time permits, Vergil is taking the time to set the scene. You’ll come home to freshly washed bedsheets, lit candles, and dinner already made and prepared for serving. It’s all-encompassing for him, more about the bond between you two than the result.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I feel like he edges when he’s frustrated. Just to punish himself for whatever it is that is bothering him. However, I don’t think he masturbates often, as he finds it a waste of energy.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bdsm is a given, duh. A rope junkie - loves to tie you down in impossible positions, or to be tied up himself, forcing himself to put his trust in you. Body worship, breeding, temperature play, pet play. Handcuffs, gags, cameras, leashes. The voices are also telling me he’s into blood play……much to think about. But ONLY on him - he’s not too keen on actually hurting you outside of hickeys and bruises.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom, absolutely. Again, sex is not trivial to him. If not in bed, definitely in the bath. However, even the devil in him gets the best of his control sometimes and he’ll squeeze a quickie in the back of the car or the bathroom of a bar.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you do mundane tasks drives Vergil up the wall. He’ll stand there and watch you bend over the washing machine, doing paperwork, fixing your hair, and it’ll be more of a turn on than any lewd act. Something about seeing you so blissfully unaware of your natural state is too much for him. Bonus points if you’re doing housework and disheveled - clothes a mess, sweat on your brow. He’s practically foaming at the mouth.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Carelessness in any regard is a huge no for him, whether it’s out of ignorance or stubbornness. He’s a proud man and doesn’t tolerate blatant disrespect.

I mentioned it briefly above, but hurting you seriously is off the table. Safety is the utmost priority when it comes to you for him - he will not jeopardize that in any way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

MUUUUUUNCH. He is a munch, I swear it. It’s mostly out of greed, if we’re being honest. He loves to watch you squirm, see how many times he can make you come alone from his mouth before he dares to fuck you. Loves face-sitting, he sees it as a challenge. Will also view oral as a form of body worship - he will take his damn time.

Vergil will never admit it, but he also loves to be on the receiving end. Loves to see you on your knees, taking him to the hilt and feeling you gulp around him. Careful, though! He’s a head-pusher.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Varies on the mood. If it’s more of a loving, sensual session, he will drag it out for as long as he feels necessary unless you tap out or flip him over out of impatience. Rougher, heated goes are another story. His movements will be unforgiving and staccato, ramming into your slick with purpose and ferocity.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Mentioned above. It’s only really if he physically can’t get you home quick enough. Or if you have an argument. He loves a good post-fight fuck.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Vergil is always looking for ways to push his own boundaries. He’s spent years honing his strengths and learning his every weakness - of course he’s gonna want to put them to the test. Whether that’s trying something new or getting a more risqué.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Demon genes go crazy. I think he could easily go back to back a few rounds before calling it quits. Any less would more so be for the wellbeing of his partner. I think Vergil purposely tries to last as long as physically possible to push himself, but sometimes he gets a little too lost in how soft your skin feels or how tightly your squeezing around him to hold back any longer.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Vergil wouldn’t be too knowledgeable about toys, but if he had a partner that was, he would be open to exploration. (Honey, go get the strap)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

HE IS A BRATTTT (365 party girl)! Whether it’s orgasm denial or straight up refusal to even touch you, he’s playing the long game.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Grunts and growls, for sureeeee. It’s more animalistic than anything. Not a talker, really, as he gets near silent when he’s in the zone, but he’ll make sure to pepper in some praise or instruction here and there so you stay present.

When Vergil is on the receiving end/subbing, it’s a different story. WHINY. So, so whiny and blubbers out nonsense. Whimpers and moans so unlike the stoic warrior, you have to do a double-take to even be sure the sounds are coming from him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Oral fixation.

Also secretly a big fan of pet names: darling, sweet, love, little one/bird, sweetheart.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Vergil is a big man. 6’5, to be exact. Add devil genes in the mix and the man’s packin’. I don’t think it’s anything ridiculous, but I’m betting on a good 8 when hard. Uncut with a slight left curve. Definitely nothing to be shy about.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Vergil spent years in solitude - I think he can handle a lot of pining. He’s patient and panther-esque, ever waiting for the right time to strike. That being said, if you and him were long-term, I think he’d make it a point to have sex integrated into your regular routine, to keep your relationship and minds secure. Health is wealth, after all.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He has a hard time sleeping in general, but it’s a little easier when you’re tucked in his side, bare and satisfied. He’d probably lie awake for a while, even after you dozed off, just to hold you close and remind himself you’re really there and he’s safe from harm.

[katerina-marie]

The Uncertainty of Domesticity

Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 of 3

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t afraid of much, though he definitely felt so when he became a widower in the same moment he became a father. Years later, he felt it again when you came along with the same hopes and dreams for a future he never thought he would experience again.

Content: JJK universe but no canon events / strangers & neighbors to lovers / medium burn idk / female reader and referred to as such but left descriptively vague / no y/n / out of character and soft Toji / single-father Toji / A little NSFW - brief mention/implication of vaginal sex so please avoid accordingly - but I can't write smut to save my life so it's not very explicit / Megumi-Mama/Mamaguro dies in childbirth and its mentioned once or twice / cutie pie child Megumi / fluff / slice of life / light angst from Toji's inner turmoil / discussions about having children / pregnancy and childbirth for reader / more notes below

WC: 9.2k (*nervous laughter*)

Notes:

Y'all....this thing is 9.2k words. It probably should've been split into another part, but I didn't and I'm just leaving it be. I'm sorry if it feels a bit "choppy?" I could've happily kept writing about all the little moments in between the parts shown, but I'm not sure if it ever would've ended at that point.

Also, I'm posting this at nearly 2:00 am my time because my end of week/upcoming weekend just got very busy and it's now or never, so please forgive any typos. I reread this chapter until I went crosseyed.

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Toji Fushiguro liked to consider himself capable of many things. 

He, as a single father, had raised his son from infancy into a fine six and a half year old.

He was a teacher, no matter how unwilling, and had successfully kept all his students alive thus far.

He was your partner, doting and caring of your every whim and utterly wrapped around your finger. 

So, when he and Megumi woke up from a late afternoon nap in the middle of the summer only to step into a puddle of water in front of their kitchen sink, Toji was adamant he was capable of repairing the situation, regardless of his lack of experience in such an area. He mopped up the water, gathered tools, and squeezed himself under the sink the best he could considering his size. At some point, Megumi must have run across the street to fetch you because your legs appeared in his limited field of vision followed by your smug grin as you bent down to check on him. 

Your eyes glittered in a way that was betelling of your mischievousness, and Toji grimaced. “Having fun?”

“Just hand me a wrench from the counter, please.” 

You did as Toji asked without comment, and began to fill the silence (and test Toji’s concentration) with chatter about plans for the weekend in between his intermittent string of curses when something went amiss. As an hour went by with little progress to show for it, you made yourself comfortable on the floor next to Toji’s feet while Megumi had since found something outside to occupy himself with. When you felt water begin to tickle your toes, you reached out your foot to nudge it against Toji’s calf. 

“I mean this in the kindest, least offensive way,” you told him, “but don’t you think it’s about time we call a plumber?” Somewhere under the sink, metal clanged and Toji barked out an expletive followed by a groan of pain. 

“No,” he insisted grouchily, and you watched as he used his legs to wedge himself further under the sink. “I think I almost got it.” 

Your answering hum was full of disbelief, but Toji paid it no mind, even if he could start to feel the coolness of water seeping into the cuff of his pants. If only he could reach one more inch…

His concentration was interrupted when Megumi’s scream of pain filtered in through the open windows. Toji lurched upwards out of sheer instinct and hit his head hard enough against the metal piping that he saw stars. Through the haze of pain and spots across his vision, he saw you dash out the door, and primal parental instinct forced Toji out of the cramped space so he could tend to his child’s cries. When he finally managed to stagger out the front door, you were on your knees on the concrete cradling a sobbing Megumi to your chest. His bike lay on its side just a step away, and from how his son’s left arm was sitting limply over his lap and already changing colors, Toji suspected a hospital trip was in order for what was clearly a broken bone. He approached and you looked up at him with eyes that were glassy with your own tears, your heart breaking for how badly the little boy was in pain. Toji brushed a quick hand over your cheek before crouching down to meet Megumi’s eyes. 

“Alright, Megs,” he coaxed, and the sight of his son’s face clenched in distress and wet with tears was a sight Toji would never get over, “we’ll get you up and to the doctor to start feeling better, okay?” Megumi didn’t react to his words, but when Toji reached out to scoop him into his arms, he wailed harder and tightened the good arm he had wrapped around your neck, burying his face deeper into your chest. Surprise fluttered over your face and then it turned apologetic towards Toji, but he shook his head, the shock of his son’s preference for you in this moment not nearly as important. Instead, Toji carefully helped you up while you held onto Megumi and led the two of you to the car with a protective arm wrapped around your shoulders. 

The evening at the hospital passed in a similar manner. You reclined in a bed with Megumi against your chest while a doctor looked at his arm and Toji filled out paperwork. You murmured in the boy’s ear and brushed his hair back in soothing movements to try and distract him from the pain. When a nurse came in with an IV kit in hand, you let Megumi cry into your neck while Toji helped hold his right arm still. Eventually, after he drifted off to sleep, you took a seat next to Toji on the right side of Megumi’s bed while the doctor set his arm and fixed a cast onto it. The entire time, the worried father remained ramrod straight with eyes fixed on every move the doctor made, and he had your hand clenched between the two of his on his lap. You leaned to the side to rest your head against his shoulder, and adoration tightened your chest when Toji let out an anxious huff before turning his head to press his lips to your forehead.

When the whole thing was said and done and the three of you were discharged once Megumi was awake enough, you rubbed a comforting hand over Toji’s back as he carried his son to the car. Once home, the two of you worked to get Megumi changed and ready for bed, a delicate task when having to take caution with the state of his arm. Thankfully, the edge was taken off by painkillers, and he dazedly chatted about the cool blue cast on his arm and how he couldn’t wait to show it off to Yuji. Toji promised to get him markers for him to draw on it with while you persuaded him to get under the blankets after assuring him you’d bake a giant batch of cookies tomorrow in reward for his bravery. 

Toji took the time to place Megumi’s favorite stuffed animals around him and tucked him further into the blankets. You read him a bedtime story while Toji lay stretched out next to the two of you, and by the end of it, Megumi’s eyes were drooping heavily and his mouth had fallen open just the slightest. You gently lifted Megumi’s broken arm up so that Toji could settle a pillow under it, and after bidding the boy goodnight, he got up so you could slide in next to him. He watched with a thudding heart as you scanned his son up and down with fretful eyes and let your hands flutter nervously about him. You pushed some of the hair away from Megumi’s forehead and leaned down carefully to place a gentle kiss between his brows. When you looked back at Toji with a sad, wobbly smile on your lips but a determined gleam in your eyes in order to be brave for the little boy in front of you, Toji realized in that moment that he had fallen in love with you, and in the same breath decided that he was going to marry you, nearly a year to the day he met you in the middle of a grocery store. 

And later, when the two of you lay exhausted under the blankets of his bed, Toji rolled over onto his side to mold every inch of himself against your back and nestled his chin into the crook of your shoulder so his lips could brush against your ear. 

“Marry me,” he whispered, not so much asking as he was pleading. You were already half asleep, but he felt the shake of your shoulders as quiet laughter blew out from your nose, and you threaded your fingers up through his from where they were draped over your hip. 

“Of course,” you breathed, and Toji tightened his arms around you. He left a kiss on the back of your neck and let his eyes slide shut as he basked in the warmth of your body and smell of your lotion and the incandescent joy in realizing that he’d never have to go another night without it—without you. 

“But ask me again later so I can see you properly down on one knee.” 

A week later, because Toji Fushiguro was powerless to anything you demanded of him, he did as you asked in the middle of his kitchen while you, him, and Megumi still lounged in your pajamas and were only halfway done making breakfast. His son clapped excitedly when you squealed out a ‘yes’ and Toji grinned with pride as you admired the simple gold band that adorned your finger. Satisfaction made his heart full and your smile soothed his soul, but eagerness had him marrying you in a government building just a couple days later.

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It wasn’t until Megumi’s seventh birthday that Toji realized stalling wasn’t going to work much longer. 

The months following your marriage had been busy with moving him and Megumi into your house across the street since it was bigger and didn’t hold the memories of a tragic past Toji was ready to move on from. The end of the summer had brought school for him and Megumi back into full swing, and two weeks into it Toji was ready to quit when all his students could focus on was the new ring on his left hand. Most of them were congratulatory in their teasing, but a few made jests about their disbelief that someone could bother marrying their grouch of a teacher, and while Toji had half a mind to bring you by just to shut them up, he decided it was kinder to not subject you to a particular white-haired menace. 

By the time the three of you got settled into the normalcy of being a new family, the year was already coming to a close and Megumi was turning seven. As requested, you had baked his son a double chocolate cake and covered the top in rainbow sprinkles. Toji had taken the time to pipe little swirls of frosting around the edges, though some were lopsided and varied in size (such small, precise tasks were simply too big of an ask for the size of his hands), but Megumi didn’t seem to care when the two of you placed it in front of him on the table, candles lit orange and reflecting off the wideness of his eyes. 

After singing and clapping, right as Megumi filled his cheeks with as much air as he could manage to blow his candles out in a single breath, you threw your hands out over them in an attempt to keep them aflame for just a moment longer.

“Wait, Megumi,” you gasped, yanking your hands back when the heat of the candles scorched a bit too close to your skin. Toji immediately gathered them into his to inspect your palms, but you shook them away, not minding his grumble as the brief sting faded. “You have to make a wish!” 

Megumi’s mouth dropped open into a perfect ‘o’ as he nodded vigorously. “Oh, yeah,” he chirped. “I forgot.” 

He immediately squeezed his eyes closed, and you and Toji watched in amusement as he scrunched up his nose and squirmed in his seat. You took the opportunity to snap a couple of pictures, and when he was done, Megumi’s eyes popped back open and he took in a great inhale before blowing out his candles all at once. You cheered while Toji ruffled his son’s hair, and Megumi looked quite proud of himself as you slid the cake towards you to cut him a piece worthy of being eaten on his birthday. Both of you chastised Toji when he kept insisting you make his piece bigger and bigger, almost so that he nearly had half the cake on his plate alone by the time it was all said and done. 

“Hey, Kid,” Toji said around a mouthful of cake while you pointedly took a polite bite of your own, “what did you wish for?” Megumi begrudgingly tore his attention from his cake, and you swatted at Toji’s arm from across the table. 

“You’re not supposed to ask!” you exclaimed, but he simply rolled his eyes and shook his head good naturedly before returning his focus back onto his plate. At the head of the table, Megumi stared at you with an all too knowing look for a fresh six year old and then set his sights on his father with an unimpressed quirk to his brow. 

“I wished for a baby brother or sister.” 

Toji promptly choked on the large bite of cake he had shoved into his mouth moments prior to Megumi’s unexpected declaration, and your lips parted in shock. Meanwhile, Megumi eyed the two of you expectedly as Toji hacked and coughed. You jumped from your chair to grab him a glass of water, then set it down next to him while rubbing a soothing hand between his shoulder blades. 

“Now, Megumi,” you began, not so much stern but intentionally practical, and he looked up at you with wide, attentive eyes, “babies, uhm, take their time getting here…” you trailed off and turned your head to your husband with an alarmed look on your face, but Toji was still working on regaining his breath and chugging his water and could only offer a shrug of his shoulders while he pursed his lips in defeat. 

You sighed and faced Megumi again with a weary smile. “Babies take their time getting here and that’s after their parents decide to have one. Any baby brother or sister will have to spend nine whole months growing in my belly before they arrive, so you’ll have to try and be real patient for us, okay?”

Megumi’s face fell dejectedly, and if Toji looked hard enough, there was a hint of disappointment on your features too. He watched as you playfully pinched at the boy’s cheeks and tempted him back into a happy mood with the hint of birthday gifts waiting for him in the living room. The whole exchange had guilt weighing heavy on Toji’s shoulders, and he had the bitter realization that it was his own fear—the one that lied solely in the scant possibility that you could meet the same fate as the only other woman he had ever loved—that caused the frown on yours and Megumi’s faces. 

In spite of that fear, Toji had promised you something, and in the six months since the two of you had been married, you hadn’t chastised him or given him grief when he pulled out at the last moment to spend himself across your stomach or back. You didn’t question him when he had a hard time meeting your eyes as he tore open a foil packet to remove the condom from inside. He knew your trust in him far surpassed whatever insecurities he wrestled with, but it didn’t make him feel less like a failure every time. 

So later that night, when Toji found himself above you and nestled in the warmth between your legs, he leaned into the security of your arms and sought reassurance in the taste of your lips as he came to his own end after ensuring yours. You ran your fingers down his back and whispered sweet nothings into his ear when the racing of his heart and trembling of his muscles could no longer be blamed on the energy he expended while pleasuring his wife.

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

You suspected something was amiss a couple months later. Toji had brought home your favorite take-out for dinner, and while the first bite was as pleasant as usual, every one after tasted more and more like cardboard and settled uncomfortably in your stomach until your appetite was thoroughly gone. You questioned whether it was something more and that maybe your period wouldn’t appear in just a couple of days, but when Megumi began to complain of an upset stomach toward the end of the meal, you banished the thought out of your head. 

However, two days after while you were cooking that evening’s dinner, one whiff of the package of raw chicken you had just cut open had you violently gagging and running for the nearest bathroom while ignoring Megumi’s call of alarm when you passed him in the living room. Your knees hit tile as you retched into the bowl of the toilet, and you weren’t sure how much time had passed when you were finally able to lift your head. You trembled on your spot on the floor and felt more tired than you had been in weeks. Nausea made your head spin, and you wondered if you’d ever be able to look at chicken again the same way. Just the sheer thought of it had your mouth souring, and your repulsiveness for it went deep into your bones. 

When you finally caught your breath and were mostly confident you had emptied everything in your stomach, you pushed yourself off the floor and rinsed your mouth before exiting the bathroom. Megumi stood on the other side of the door with his lips turned down in concern and your phone in his hand. When he raised it up to you, Toji’s name was displayed at the top of an ongoing call. 

“Hey,” is all you said when you brought the phone to your ear. 

“Megumi called and said something was wrong with you. Are you okay?” Toji’s voice wasn’t panicked, but you sensed the worry in it, and you could imagine his face looked much like his son’s had moments ago. 

“I was making dinner a few minutes ago, and the smell of the raw chicken…” you had to trail off when just telling him what happened made you gag a little. You hadn’t yet stepped away from the doorway of the bathroom, but you weren’t in a hurry to have to go back in, so you took a few deep breaths until the feeling passed. Megumi hugged your leg as he gazed up at you in concern and you patted the top of his head in reassurance. 

“Ah,” Toji remarked.

“Yup.” 

Toji cleared his throat after a moment of quiet and then asked a question that sent nerves skittering down your spine. “Want me to pick up a test on the way home?” 

“Please.” 

Later that night, after Megumi was tucked in bed, the two of you waited anxiously as the timer on your phone counted down from three minutes. Two pregnancy tests lay face down on the counter. You nibbled on the skin of your cuticle while Toji bounced his knee from where he sat on the closed toilet lid. 

“I mean, it’s not as if we weren’t expecting this to happen,” you pointed out, shaking your hands in front of you in an attempt to dislodge the nervousness from your body, and Toji snorted. 

“Yeah, certainly not.” He wiggled his eyebrows flirtatiously, and the smirk that tugged at the scar on his lip made your cheeks flush hot, and you rolled your eyes at him. As the two of you continued to wait as the seconds on your phone seemed to crawl by, a thought popped into your head. 

“Is it as nerve-wracking the second time around? Or is it easier?” you asked him gently, and you saw Toji’s features soften as his eyes went nostalgic. He worked his mouth in contemplation—perhaps in recollection—and then shook his head. 

“No, it’s uh, just as shocking I’d say—at least for me.” He pushed off his knees and came to stand next to you. “I think it’ll be this way no matter how many times we do it.” The thought of one day doing this a second time had the breath rushing out of you, but you filed the image away for a future discussion. It wasn’t something you had the capacity to consider now, not while you were currently waiting to see if you were about to become a mother. 

The shrill noise from your phone that indicated the timer had run down made the two of you jump a foot in the air, and you looked to Toji with wide eyes. 

“Take that one?” you offered, pointing with a trembling finger to the test that would answer with words versus a combination of lines, and Toji was suddenly very grateful he grabbed two different kinds at the store. While he knew he could squint at a test and convince himself that an extra line may or may not be visible, he was almost a hundred percent positive he wouldn’t suddenly become illiterate and unable to distinguish between “pregnant” and “not pregnant.” 

He nodded, and at the same time, the two of you reached for each test on the counter and flipped them over close to your faces only for your jaws to drop simultaneously. You turned to each other, wide eyed and bewildered (as if you didn’t know what the two of you had been doing these last couple months) because “pregnant” and two dark lines could not be misunderstood. 

You brought your free hand up to your mouth to cover it as unabashed laughter poured from your lips, and Toji wrapped his arms around your shoulders to yank you into his chest. Joy spurred him into kissing you deeply, and the pure love and elation in your eyes when you pulled back was enough for Toji to feel the first stirrings of excitement at the prospect of having a child with you. 

It wasn’t until later in the night, in the dark of your shared bedroom with nothing but the evenness of your breathing to interrupt the noise in his head that Toji could admit to himself that the entirety of it terrified him.  

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

“That’s a baby?” Megumi’s voice was full of skepticism, and he eyed the ultrasound photo with disgruntled disbelief as you pointed at the grey and white blob in a sea of black. 

“Yes, Megumi,” you giggled, smiling at Toji over the little boy’s shoulder as the three of you sat cuddled in your bed, “that’s your sibling. They are very small right now, but next time they’ll look bigger and more like a baby.” 

He wasn’t appeased by your answer, and he crossed his arms with a little huff of disappointment that had Toji struggling to muffle his laughter. The two of you had just returned from your first doctor’s appointment and had decided to break the news to Megumi now that you had a picture to confirm it, and while he had taken it well, he clearly was expecting more. 

“How long till it gets here?” he asked, glancing up at you, but Toji replied first.

“Doctor said January. You’re gonna have to be patient, Megs.” Toji grinned at his son, but Megumi looked even more unenthused than before and glowered at his father. 

“Why’d you have to take so long to have a baby?” he muttered, and the words wiped the smile clean off Toji’s face as you shook with laughter. With a pained look on his face, Toji simply shoved a pillow playfully over Megumi’s head and tickled him in the ribs to distract him from the question at hand. 

You used the opportunity to burrow under the blankets as your eyes began to grow heavy. Nausea, fatigue, and a general feeling of being unwell had plagued you from the moment the pregnancy test had turned positive, and you hoped an afternoon in bed and watching movies would offer a reprieve. You had just begun to drift off when you heard Megumi ask for Toji’s attention. 

“Dad, where do babies come from?” 

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

“I don’t think there’s much in that book you have to worry about,” Toji told you on a night that found the two of you lounging in your room after Megumi went to sleep. He was lazily folding laundry from his perch at the foot of the bed. You were reclined back against the headboard with said book in your lap. One hand rested against the curve of your belly that had just started to protrude against the fabric of your clothes in the last week, and the other dog-eared every other page laden with information about pregnancy, childbirth, and newborns.

“Perhaps,” you said, setting the book down on your thighs, and the pointed look you gave him made it clear you didn’t feel the same, “but that’s easy for you to say—you’ve done this before.” 

A harsh laugh fell from Toji’s mouth before he had a chance to stop it, and he tossed a bundle of socks in his hand at the tower he had made of his folded boxers. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t doing a very good job of it. We were barely surviving.” 

He watched as the pile of fabric warbled upon impact, and just as it began to tilt, you shot your foot out to brace it in place. When Toji looked up at you, frustration didn’t furrow your brow or pinch your nose. Instead, your smile was gentle and understanding.

“I know,” you said, voice soft, and it carried an undercurrent of reassurance. 

Toji released a deep breath and tilted up the scarred corner of his mouth in a way that he hoped looked contrite. He reached for the stack of his boxers and righted them so you could lower your leg back down. “I’m probably not the best person to get advice from anyway.” 

You tilted your head to the right, perplexed by his unusual self-deprecation. “I wouldn’t say so.” 

Toji just shrugged and continued fiddling with the last bits of laundry. 

“Sure, you’re a little rough around the edges.” 

“Can’t deny that,” he grumbled. 

“You can be a bit grumpy sometimes, and you have a history of giving in to questionable decisions and habits.” 

Toji shot you a withering look. “You really know how to kick a guy while he’s down.” 

“And,” you emphasized, holding up your hand to indicate that you weren’t finished, “you have a really tragic backstory that just makes the whole thing sad.” 

For once, Toji seemed to be struck speechless, stupefied by the bluntness of your words, and the bundle of socks he had been playing with rolled from his hand. 

“But,” you said, “there’s no one else I’d rather be doing this with than you, Toji.” Your husband, who had clearly been a bit rankled by the conversation, melted. The tension released from his shoulders and the puckered set of his lips smoothed out into a dopey grin as his countenance perked up.

“I love you too,” he teased, his tone light and easy, “even if you are something else.” 

You beamed at him as he got up to gather the laundry in his arms and set it in on the dresser in front of your bed, intending to deal with it tomorrow. He then flopped onto his stomach on the bed next to you, shaking the whole thing under his weight, and if the two of you hadn’t already thoroughly tested its limits, you’d worry about its ability to handle the size of him. The thought had your blood suddenly running hot and you rolled onto your side to nip at his ear when a different sensation in your lower half made you pause. 

For the last two weeks you had been feeling the tiny bubbles in your stomach and knew that your baby had gotten big enough for you to begin to take notice of its movement. However, this was the first time it felt significant enough to be noticed from the outside. You returned to your position on your back and pressed your hand lightly into the skin under your belly button. Nothing happened for a minute, and just as you were ready to give up, you felt the faintest hiccup against your palm. 

“Toji!” you blurted, and you urged yourself to stay still despite your excitement lest your little one move again and hide away. 

“You going to insult me again?” Toji’s voice was muffled from where his face was mushed into his pillow. 

“No,” you scoffed, wiggling your fingers at him even though he couldn’t see, “come here.” He groaned in protest but propped himself up on his elbows to shift onto his side nonetheless, and you snapped your hand out to grab his.

“What are you—,” 

“Shh!” You didn’t bother explaining as you covered his hand with yours and settled it onto your belly where yours had just been. His jaw shut with an audible click. You watched Toji’s expression carefully as you waited for another burst of movement, and even though you knew this wasn’t a foreign experience to him like it was to you, overwhelming joy filled you to your depths when his eyes glossed over with wonder as his child wiggled against his palm. He was quick to gather you to his chest with the arm that wasn’t draped over your hip and you tucked your head under his chin in an attempt to snuggle as close to him as you could manage. 

“Megumi’s going to get a kick out of that tomorrow—literally.” Toji’s voice was thick with emotion, as well as amusement at his own cleverness, and you swatted at his chest. But your laughter deceived you and Toji placed kisses all along the top of your head. 

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

Toji wondered if all the blood on the floor was retribution for the amount of it he had spilled in the years before. It pooled slowly, eating up the white of the tile and creeping closer until it stained the tip of his shoes. He was empty, void of anything really, and maybe this was the curse doomed to follow him. Loneliness, robbed of anyone precious to him, and instead of incandescent joy that should have taken over him at the sight of his newly born child, nothing except for seething rage and despair filled his mind. There was hatred for a family name that he had already tried to escape, a desire to soothe himself in all the previous vices that had once kept him occupied, and bewilderment that he was somehow in the same situation again.

It was all eerily similar, from the sudden rush of panicked movement in the room to the way he fell back into a cushioned chair, just barely conscious of the baby in his arms. The face of his late wife and yours flashed back and forth, superimposed onto each other as the two of you laid still with eyes closed and arms slackened at your sides. A shrill whine, a solid ringing filled his ears and silenced all other noise. 

Not again. Not again, not again, not ag—,

Years of discipline kept Toji from jolting into wakefulness, but he did suck in a mouthful of air when his eyes opened and took in the darkness of your bedroom. He wasn’t trapped in the sterile four walls of a hospital room, nor was he struck numb by the darkness of your blood. Instead, sweat stuck the sheets to the skin of his back, and above him the fan you always insisted be on spun quickly. The thought of you had his hand clambering across to your side of the bed, but when all that met his fingers was the unusual coolness of your pillow, he lurched upwards, flipped on his bedside lamp, and searched the room.

Rationality told Toji that you were probably fine, that you were in the bathroom or the living room and would be back any second. Rationality would tell him that there wasn’t any need for him to seek you out and confirm you were alive with his own eyes. But adrenaline, a tragic memory, and the nausea simmering in his gut drove him from bed and onto his feet, clad only in his boxers.

Toji was still a bit disoriented from his nightmare, and he tried to be extra mindful of his heavy footfalls as he passed the door of Megumi’s room. As he neared the end of the hallway, he heard the faintest plink of metal against glass and the racing of his heart slowed at the sound before ultimately returning to normal when saw you in the kitchen. 

Despite it being well into the middle of the night, you leaned back onto the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal in your hands and a happy hum in the back of your throat. Your belly sat low between your hips, pulling taut the fabric of his shirt that served as your outfit of choice as of late, and the sight of it was a reminder that you were nearing the end of nine months now. Nervousness was a constant state Toji was in as your due date rapidly approached, and if he thought too hard about it, panic would shorten his breath and tunnel his vision, such as it was beginning to do in that moment. Thus, Toji wasn’t sure if he made a noise or if you just happened to notice him out of your peripheral vision when you turned your head to him, curiosity taking over your face. 

“Did I wake you?” you whispered, spooning one last bite of cereal into your mouth before setting it into the sink behind you. Toji shook his head and padded over to your side. He dropped his head to rest his cheek on your hair and trailed a hand down your stomach to spread his palm over the front of it. Satisfaction coursed through his veins when you let out a happy, weary sigh and leaned into his chest to rest your weight against him. 

Toji knew you were struggling. He knew your hips ached and it made walking a chore. He knew that your back only stopped hurting after he rubbed the muscles loose for half an hour and that everything including breathing had become difficult for you. The baby kicked you awake during the night, and if you weren’t tossing and turning in an attempt to get comfortable, you were up and going to the bathroom for the nth time. Toji did his best to dote on you in between his job, taking care of Megumi, and doing all the chores around the house. He certainly did want this to be all over for you so you could bask in the enjoyment of motherhood, but each day closer to your child’s birth spiked his anxiety exponentially higher, and he ashamedly wished he could ignore what was to come. 

“Would you like to go back to bed?” he asked, taking a step backwards. 

You nodded your head unwillingly. “I’m too uncomfortable to sleep right now. If I stay up and watch TV in bed will that bother you?” 

“No,” he replied immediately, and Toji was secretly glad he wouldn’t have to stare up at a dark ceiling, too afraid to close his eyes when all he wanted to do was bask in the warmth of your body and the steady rise and fall of your chest. 

The two of you made a slow walk back to your room, and Toji helped you into bed and shifted the pillows behind your back until you were as comfortable as can be in your given state. He scrubbed his hands over his face to rid his eyes of the tiredness that lingered behind them and then slid in next to you as you focused on flipping through channels on the TV. Toji snaked his right arm under the small of your back and wound his left across your lap so his hand could cup the side of your belly and then set the side of his face on the top of it. Your fingers came to scratch through his hair absentmindedly, and the relief that Toji felt from your touch and the quiet thump of your heart was nearly instantaneous. 

As minutes ticked by and most of the lingering tension from his nightmare had subsided, Toji still found himself tapping against the side of your stomach and pushing his fingers against it in an effort to get his child to respond to him. 

You reached an arm over his head to prod at the center of your belly yourself. “He’s been wiggling around a bunch throughout the day, but he might be right about here…” you trailed off just in time for Toji to feel a quick bump under his cheek. 

“I think you meant ‘she,’ isn’t that right?” he said with a smile. Only one of you was to be right about who your child was destined to be, but neither would know until they came out to meet you. 

“No, ‘he’ was correct, thank you very much.” Affection warmed his body and Toji pressed his fingers back into your skin so he could feel the movement again. The baby reciprocated his touch each time until Toji finally relented and figured you’d appreciate the break from being repeatedly poked and prodded. Your palm drifted down to cup his jaw and the swiping of your thumb over it was enough to lull him into the beginnings of sleep. He snuggled a bit closer into your side and let out a great exhale, recalling how you had once made a comment likening him to a large, lounging dog. Toji supposed he could understand what you meant. Really, at the end of the day, all he wanted to do was cling close to you and bask in the pleasure of your touch. 

While Toji knew that no amount of time he spent listening to your heartbeat or prompting his child into movement would prevent a cruel fate from bestowing you both should it be decided, he would let himself pretend if it meant keeping himself together enough to see it through. 

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

As a surprise to no one at all, childbirth was just as nerve wracking for Toji the second time around as it was the first. 

It didn’t help that he had been on pins and needles since your due date had come and gone, so when you stumbled out of bed and into the living room on the morning of the third day passed, your hand clutching your stomach and a harrowed expression on your face, Toji was coiled tight enough that he sprung into movement. He flung Megumi over his shoulder and was across the room at the same moment to grab the bags you kept at the ready by the front door. By the time you walked out, teetering between amusement at how your husband scurried about and uneasiness at the thought of what was about to happen to your body, Toji already had the car loaded and turned on. A few minutes later, you almost felt bad for Megumi when Toji stopped outside the Itadori’s house to practically throw him at Yuji’s dad—followed by his overnight bag—had the boy not already been hollering to his best friend about how he was about to get a new baby sibling. 

At the hospital, the terrible familiarity of the beige walls and speckled tile had Toji desperate to pace the room at how trapped he felt, but the desire to stay put next to your bedside and keep your hand in his won out. Labor could take hours, that he knew, and Toji spent every moment of it cycling his eyes between the baby’s heart monitor, your face, and the clock on the wall. Each time your expression would twist into a pained grimace, your hand would crush his and a potent cocktail of adrenaline, fear, and anticipation would send his heart racing. 

When the day turned into evening, just an hour before midnight, a doctor placed Toji Fushiguro’s second son onto your bare chest, much to his shock and delight. The noise in the room threatened to overwhelm him—the excited exclamations of the nurses, your panted gasps, the shrill crying of a newborn baby--but Toji wouldn’t let anything tear his focus from you. He stared at how wisps of your hair stuck to your temples in sweat, the red of your cheeks, how your eyes were full of tears and wonder and flicked back and forth between him and your child. Toji knew (how he wished he didn’t) that you could be fine in one instant and dead in the next, but for every minute that passed where you still breathed and your heart kept beating, he could feel the fear slowly trickle from his body. 

Once he was an hour old, Toji held his son for the first time as he sat next to you on your hospital bed. The baby had your nose and tufts of hair the same color as yours, and Toji realized with a sudden pain in his chest that he didn’t remember Megumi in his first couple hours. He couldn’t recall what it felt like to hold him for the first time, nor did he know how much he weighed just after birth. All the tiny details he assumed every parent would remember until the end of their days was overshadowed by a curtain of devastation, the death of his wife wiping it clean from his memory. 

So this time, when the room was quiet and he had you leaning against him, he studied every part of his newborn with rapt attention, determined to commit every detail to perfect recollection. And unlike before, in a moment he’ll always mourn, Toji felt peace and quiet and something indescribably blissful. 

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

It wasn’t so much that Toji forgot what it was like to have a newborn so much as he had completely blocked what could be considered some of the worst days of his life from his memory. He had been too sleep deprived to even properly grieve his wife and utterly shell shocked at the prospect of now being a widower and single dad. There had been no one to help, no one to encourage him when Megumi cried for two hours straight in the dead of night for a reason Toji couldn’t begin to figure out, no one to help him plan for a couple months down the line when his savings inevitably ran out and he’d have to figure out a safe, legal plan for employment or consider the risk of something illegal since it paid better. 

Yet two weeks into it, when Toji was just starting to discern the difference between Megumi’s wails of hunger and those of exhaustion, someone knocked on his door. He grumbled the whole way down the hall in fear that the sound would wake the baby he had just spent the last hour putting down, and also because he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten or let alone brushed his teeth. So, Toji figured he looked worse for wear when he swung the door open and glared at the man on the other side of it. He was middle aged and wore dark clothing and an even darker pair of sunglasses. He claimed he was an instructor at a school in the city and came to find him out when he heard that rumors began to swirl of Toji Zenin having a son. Toji had spat at him, snarling and enraged and cursing his old last name with vehemence, and he was all too ready to come to physical blows had his son not been sleeping just a few yards away. In the end, the man had just smiled and extended his hand with the promise of a job and to call him the next day. Toji had been wary, but he knew that pickiness wasn’t a luxury he could afford, and appeared at the gates of the school a week later with Megumi strapped to his chest. 

Things were a bit different now, that at least Toji could acknowledge, and the heavy exhaustion that threatened to wrench his eyes shut and made his hands clumsy as he refilled your water bottle didn’t feel so catastrophic this time around. He squinted at the clock on the wall and sighed wearily when he realized the night wasn’t yet halfway over and the two of you were already up for the sixth time. Five day old newborns apparently would wake up and eat more frequently than he could remember, and each and every time he insisted on getting up with you to tend to any needs you had while ensuring his son got the meal he demanded. With an extra snack in hand and a full bottle of water, Toji shuffled back to your shared bedroom and quietly closed the door behind him. 

“You fall asleep standing up at the counter again?” Your voice broke the silence and got a chuckle out of him as he fell onto the bed in a heap by your side. 

“Something like that,” he muttered, but thankfully you didn’t pry and instead gave him a grateful smile when he unwrapped your granola bar and held it up to your mouth since your hands were preoccupied with holding the infant to your chest. You munched on it slowly, and in between bites you would settle  your head back against the pillows and let your eyes flutter shut, trusting your husband to keep a dutiful watch on the two of you. Toji moved closer to you so he could gently rest his head against your shoulder and peered down at his son as he got his fill of milk. He rubbed a tiny foot in between his thumb and forefinger and grinned at the soft suckling noises he made, amazed at how differently things felt this time. Toji was stunned at how having a new child felt so much like the first time since he could actually slow down to process it all now. Maybe this time, when history didn’t repeat himself and he was at home with the people he loved, contentment would allow the memories to stay. 

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

It happened for the first time three weeks after your son was born. 

That particular Saturday was dreary and wet, but it made for a cozy atmosphere as the four of you lounged about after a late morning breakfast. Toji was putting away the last remaining dishes. The TV played a vintage cartoon on low volume and Megumi sat on the floor in front of your feet as he colored quietly in his notebook. You sat curled up in the corner of the sofa with your newborn nestled in the crook of your arm, and you watched him, utterly transfixed. As he slept, his nose would twitch and his bottom lip would jut forward. Every once and a while, a dainty grunt would escape his mouth and he would squirm and stretch and whimper just a little before going still again as he drifted back into deeper sleep. He let out a yawn that seemed to take over his entire little body, and in the next moment he was blinking up at you with unfocused eyes as his lips smacked together once or twice. The sight of it made your heart feel as though it could burst, and you wiggled your finger into his clenched hand just to feel him hold onto it. 

“Oh, hey, his eyes are open.” Toji’s voice caught you unaware, and you jolted a little at the suddenness of it. You glanced up at your husband from where he leaned against the arm of the couch to your right, and there was a soft smile on his face as he traced a finger gently down the apple of the baby’s cheek. The newborn’s eyes couldn’t hardly focus on his father’s face from how far it was, but it certainly seemed like he looked for Toji in the moment before his lashes fluttered and his eyes slid shut. 

Toji drank in the sight of you two. There was a blissful glow to your features that couldn’t be missed, even through the signs of exhaustion that still lingered from another night of caring for a new baby. You barely paid him any mind as you smoothed your palm over the wispy hairs on your son’s head, and Toji decided that he would give you another couple minutes before gently urging you to take some time away to shower and do your morning routine should you feel like it. He pushed himself off the arm of the couch and made a move to step around it and sit down when Megumi spoke up from the floor. 

“Mama?” 

Megumi’s voice was barely above a whisper, and it was heartbreakingly timid. The single word punched all the air from Toji’s lungs and he stumbled mid-stride, just barely steading himself lest he land in a heap on top of his eldest son. Megumi didn’t move from where he was hunched over his notebook, still coloring carefully onto the paper, but Toji could see the burning red of his ears and how his eyes flicked back to take stock of your reactions before they went back to what was in front of him.

When Toji whipped his head towards you, you were already looking up at him with a wide, helpless expression. You had never once pushed passed a boundary Toji had yet to lift when it came to how you handled your roll as Megumi’s stepmother, and he could see from the way your eyes searched his that you were waiting for his guidance, his acquiescence before you dared to respond back to the little boy who had just referred to you as his mother despite you technically not being such. 

To Toji’s endless gratitude, you had always treated his late wife with the utmost respect. While you almost always fielded Megumi’s questions about her to Toji, you didn’t hesitate to pull out photos of her when he asked, nor had you ever tried to erase her significance as Megumi’s mother over the time in which you had become a part of their family. 

However, as Toji had come to acknowledge, there was no denying that Megumi had come to see you in that way. Not so much as the woman who had birthed him (Toji had explained that to him in child-friendly terms) but in every other way a mother would be seen. Megumi had no tangible connection to his late wife, no emotional attachment to the idea of her that Toji hoped one day would blossom as understanding matured in his mind, but to hold that expectation to him now wasn’t fair. Toji knew, as you looked at his son with tears of adoration and love in your eyes, that you had been making space for Megumi in your heart for a very long time in preparation for this possible moment, and he figured that having the love of a mother in the land of the living didn’t take away from the one now gone. 

If nothing else, he supposed that Megumi would catch onto your shared habit eventually. Frequently did you and Toji refer to yourself as such when tending to the new little one. 

“Shhh, Mama’s here,” you’d murmur when he wailed out his discomfort while the four of you watched TV in the early afternoon. 

“Mama’s comin’, kid, I promise,” Toji would say when the baby would nuzzle into his chest in a search for milk when he and Megumi sat together on your bed while you showered at the end of the day.

So Toji swept a hand along your shoulder, capturing your attention, and his quivering smile paired well with the tear that trickled down your cheek when he nodded at you. Your hand swiped away the moisture from your skin and you cleared your throat.

“Yes, Megumi?” Your voice sounded a little thick and wet, but the boy spun around in astonished elation nonetheless, and his smile was so wide that Toji wondered if it stung the skin at all. Megumi jumped up to his feet but very cautiously approached you until he could rest his hands on your knees and stand on his tiptoes to try and look up at his baby brother. 

“Mama, can I hold him?” You giggled and nodded as you reached out your hand to caress Megumi’s chin, and he squirmed where he stood as excitement made him antsy. 

“Of course,” you told him. “Come sit next to me and your dad will sit on the other side to help you.” Toji felt his heart expand further than he thought possible when the two of you turned towards him with loving, expectant looks that spurred him into movement.

“Up you go, Megs,” he said, lifting his son up from under his arms so he could plop him down on the cushion next to you before taking a seat himself. He threw an arm along the back of the sofa so he could scootch in closer to you three. Once Megumi situated himself, you slowly transferred the sleeping infant to lay him in his brother’s lap, and Toji was there waiting with an open hand to help cup his head and neck. 

“He’s still so small,” Megumi said quietly—wondrously—but you and Toji laughed at how the baby was still too big for Megumi to fully cradle in his arms. 

“Don’t worry,” you said, “he’ll grow big before you know it, and then he’ll be ready to play all day with you.” Megumi offered you a small smile in response before he settled back to watching his little brother snooze in his arms. You propped your elbow on the back of the sofa so you could lean your head into your hand, and Toji stretched his fingers to swirl them against your arm. Your eyes met, still glimmering with the last remnants of joyful tears, and Toji was nearly overwhelmed by a surge of emotion as he took in the little family that the four of you made.

Fear had once hung like a heavy shadow over his hope for an idyllic future and his ability to experience it. Your smile and the small hands of his children were there to whisk it away. 

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

A little bonus:

Three years after the birth of your son, a daughter made her appearance nearly two weeks early, thrilling her eagerly awaiting older brothers. For all the work you did, she came out a near exact copy of her father, and Toji had no problem letting you know how proud he was about it as you laid propped up next to him in your hospital bed. 

“I’m telling you, there was a hint of green in them!” 

You rolled your eyes playfully as you watched Toji recline your daughter against his knees with her head cradled in his palms so you could both gaze at her, and she looked positively tiny in the breadth of his hands. 

“You know a baby’s eye color might shift from what it was at birth once they get a bit older. We can’t know for certain yet.” 

The words seemed to have no effect on your husband, and he simply dropped a kiss to your temple and murmured a soft “we’ll see,” into your ear. 

(To your surprise—and secret delight—Toji was right.)

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

Again, thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who took the time to read this<3 I really just love giving tortured characters soft, happy endings, so I hope you enjoyed this endless rambling of fluffy fluff.

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

iii. one for the money, two for the show.

— the one where you were never ready, so you watched him go.

warnings: war flashbacks to the miami gp, more insight into y/n (look i have to give a lot of context for my own sanity), not really proofread sorry, 2.4k words.

masterlist ✢ next

FROM “WHAT’S NEXT FOR AIDAN KIM?” POSTED IN THE US WEEKLY YOUTUBE CHANNEL MAY 2023

You are looking at the top comments.

aidanbabes nooo my baby😭 he looks so sad!

flowerbedkim I swear to god y/n better count her fucking days

halleyc don’t come at me but this sounds like he proposed

ynbby why is he talking about this though? y/n has been super private and he’s telling US WEEKLY THIS?

ynaidan i hate being a child of divorce😭

Miami, Florida May 6th

GRAND Prix number two with Elix, attempt number two by Mr. Stuart Schafer to get into your pants. Can it get any worse?

Yes, yes it can. Because as long as you have “a job” you don’t have to come to these sponsor events. Which sucks for you, not having an acting job for the moment has never felt more like a punishment from the universe.

Artists, from actors to singers are here promoting their gigs while all you do, again, is take pictures with men in jeans and loafers and try not to barf every time you consume Elix.

You’re watching your career crumble in front of your eyes and you can’t do anything to save it from burning when it hits the floor. Mildred has called you several times during the course of the weekend to inform you of canceled interviews, revoked invitations and “sorry we’re just looking for something else” calls from casting agents.

Part of you is in disbelief that a five minute interview from your ex-boyfriend is feeding the fire, part of you expected it all the same. Women are the preferred villain in the narrative, and if it means putting a man above them, the media has had the choice made for a while.

Did you really have it coming, though? There have been endless comments about how it was about time people realized the type of person you are.

But what are you? Who are you really?

You’re a coward. You tell that to yourself in the mirror first thing in the morning.

Many people have the luxury to say they can’t pinpoint the exact moment where they went wrong. You can’t afford the pleasure of such obliviousness, because the exact moment everything went wrong was when Aidan got down on one knee.

And when the question that left his lips went from "Will you marry me?" to "Why won't you?" You knew there was no turning back.

Marriage wasn’t a foreign concept to you, but while it is generally seen as a milestone, for you it was just another stepping stone. The roles of The Wife and The Mother were something you might eventually grow into, but on the night of your third anniversary, you realized you weren't even ready for that of The Fiancée.

Was it genuinely a surprise for Aidan that you had to close the velvet box he was holding in front of you, hiding the diamond ring from your sight, before he dropped his other knee to the ground and whispered 'Why?'

Never, in the three years you'd been together, had you seriously talked about marriage. It was another bridge you would cross once you got there, and in your mistaken calculations, you thought it would be around the time your relationship turned five. That's the limit for romantic relationships without a ring involved according to most women's magazines, and your own mom. At least neither know the ring was the cause of the breakup.

It's a little pathetic how lucky you consider yourself that the tabloids don't know you rejected an engagement. They're cruel enough as it is, things can only go further downhill, straight to hell.

"You good?"

Your best friend in the world, Victoria Presley, is able to join you in the VIP area of the Paddock thanks to a couple pictures on instagram where she tagged Elix. God bless the era of influencers. Or, family connections. Being the daughter of Sony Music executive Luke Presley and celebrity life coach Claire Walker can open many doors. Well it isn't Vic's fault being born into a rich and influential family, at least she's doing her own thing with her beauty products.

"Yes, I am," you shrug. Q3 is going on right now and although you try your best to keep your focus on the two red cars around the circuit, you find it hard to get out of your head. Plus it's so hot in here you feel sticky and gross.

"I lost you for a moment there," she insists, sipping her glass of champagne, the eyebrow raise she gives you after means she needs more info into what was going through your head just seconds ago.

"Not getting any call backs right now," you sigh, taking the flute from her although all it would take for you to get your own is a few steps. "I'm kind of frustrated."

"I'm sorry babe," Vic rubs your back, unbothered by your stealing. "You'll get something soon."

"And E! cancelled my interview, AND—"

Tires screech and an 'ooooh' goes through the grand stands before the screens show a red car embedded in the barriers. A groan of "It's Leclerc!" passes through the people around you in the VIP Lounge.

You grimace, focused on the circuit again as Charles leaves his car, shaking his arms before hitting the halo several times, frustrated.

"See everyone has bad streaks," Vic has gotten her own champagne again and is pointing to the screen, where the Ferrari driver is being followed on his way out. "It's his second crash, no?"

Other people's disgrace doesn't soothe your own, so you give Vic a stern look, causing her to shrug.

Q3 is done and Ferrari has mixed feelings about their two drivers' results. As for you, the faster you can get back to your hotel, the better.

─────────

Vic drags you to dinner with a couple of her influencer friends. Everyone and their mother is in attendance at Miami, and they’re here to have fun.

"They're here!" the girl to Vic's left whisper-yells, stretching her neck to look over at the entrance of the restaurant.

The place has been completely full the whole time you've been here, which has been a while, you're done with your dinner and have a few drinks on you, yet Vic has begged you twice to stay 'just a little longer'.

Of course Vic is having the time of her life, talking about promotion agreements and posting schedules, and although you hang out with lots of influencers and social media stars on your daily life, you're not clicking with any of them tonight. Have you become bitter? No, of course not.

"y/n knows them, she can just introduce us," another one giggles, and she cheers with her tequila sunrise to your own half-empty drink that's resting on the table.

"Hmm, what?" you chuckle, unsure of how you missed the part where you entered the story.

"The Ferrari Drivers," the first girl answers in that 'obviously' tone you hate when people use with you. "You're with Ferrari all the time lately, aren't you?"

"I'm with Elix," you clear up, best as you can as they're not really paying attention, their eyes following the group of men that are being escorted by a hostess to their table. "So you know, it's not really—"

"But you've met them,"

"Well, yes but..."

Yes but, you've seen them in scattered moments where they nod and smile at you passing by and the three times you've had to take pictures drinking Elix. You don't even get to the coworker level of knowing them.

"Well let's go!"

"Hold on Holly," Vic speaks up for the first time, "I mean, they literally just got here."

"Which is why we came here," Holly can't seem to get rid of that know-it-all tone, and it's frankly starting to annoy you even if she has a different target now.

It's time to use the angry eyes with Vic, again,in less than 24 hours. That's why she kept asking you to wait just a little longer.

"How did you know they'd be here?" you question, although you already know what a cleveage can do to get any information you want. Can't blame a girl for using her tools.

“I have my ways,” Holly says, and does in fact, fix her cleavage. Fair enough.

"Vic..." you whisper, as the rest of them regather in their own conversation. "What's happening?"

"I just– they said they really wanted to meet the Ferrari guys, y/n," Vic half whines. She's doing the most to impress the other girls, which is a very Vic thing to do, but still you don't like it. "And since you work with them, well it would be easier to approach them, right?"

Wrong.

"I- Vic, I don't work with these guys. We don't even work for the same people, and... it would be weird to approach them while they're trying to have dinner peacefully."

You are not a big fan of interruptions because you've heard enough of your coworkers talk about how annoying it is. As for yourself, sometimes you mind, sometimes you don't. It all depends.

You can barely distinguish their table with all the movement around the restaurant, but you manage a peek at Carlos' hair. Both of them are there, surrounded by a bunch of other Ferrari guys.

"So? Let's go," Holly is speaking again, downing the rest of her alcoholic Shirley Temple.

"I have to use the bathroom," you announce, dropping the napkin that covered your lap on the table.

"Right now?" the other girl—you feel guilty for not remembering her name— groans.

You refrain from replying, and try not to stomp to the bathroom like a toddler throwing a tantrum. If there’s anything that you hate is feeling used, and it hurts a lot more when it comes from Victoria.

It’s something else when she uses her doe-eyed stare and says “please, please, please” to get her way even with you, rather than set you up to impress her other friends.

You take your time to reapply lipstick in the bathroom and soothe your annoyance. You have told Vic before that she needs to ask for things, not just push you into awkward situations. At least she didn’t follow you to the restroom.

Taking a deep breath, you step out of the bathroom, wondering how to go on about this. It’s very likely that things get twisted and it is you who’ll look like she wants to brag about knowing the Ferrari guys, which you’re sure they’re used to—being bragged about. But you don’t want that.

There are many clichés that you have experienced, both as a character in RomComs where the biggest makeover that is done to your character is to apply a little mascara and remove the glasses (you hate that, what’s wrong with wearing glasses?). And in real life, with big romantic gestures like receiving a bouquet with a hundred roses and one is artificial… Blah blah.

This cliché is a little more ridiculous, though, as you crash into Charles Leclerc while leaving the restroom.

“Oh, sorry,” you half-smile back at him, he’s already smiling, showing dimples and everything. You see his appeal no matter how much you don’t want to notice it. Tall, green-blue eyes and those stupid dimples. Not to mention the fact that you suddenly find accents charming. Again, stupid.

“Hey y/n,” he says still smiling, “Did you just get here?”

“Uh, no actually we’re leaving in a few minutes,” you move out of the way of a lady that wants to get into the restroom, she eyes you both for a moment before continuing on her way.

“Are you here with your friends? Or is it with Elix?”

“My friends. Thank God I get to be away from Elix for a few hours.”

Charles chuckles and the moment runs long enough to become awkward. You’re still outside of the bathrooms and another guy has too given you an off look as he made his way inside.

"Let me walk you back to your table," Charles offers as a way of breaking the silence and you shake your head no.

"You don't have to, my friends are probably on the way out already, anyway."

Are you being selfish by keeping Vic's friends away from him? It doesn't matter to you, not really. But really a small part of you doesn't want things to go their way.

Charles doesn't listen to your refusal anyway, and asks you to lead the way with a gesture.

"I didn't see you at the Ferrari Suite after Quali," he mentions as he follows you a step behind.

"I was in the VIP Lounge with a friend," you explain, "I'll be at the Suite tomorrow, though."

You stop at your table, where the three girls are still doing their best to ogle at the Ferrari guys.

"Hey," you get their attention back and not one in the three of them even attempt to hide the pleasant surprise that Charles' presence gives them. "Are you ready to go?"

It's Vic's turn to give you a look. One that tells you to not be unfair, things have just started to go as they planned.

While you return the pointed look to Vic, Holly strikes a conversation with Charles. Lightning quick.

"Let's go," you repeat, "Gotta be up early tomorrow."

"Can we get a picture, though?" the other girl—lord, if you could remember her name you'd feel a little better —adds quickly.

"Do you mind?" you ask Charles before he can reply. You don't want to make a fuss and have half the restaurant acknowledging his presence and his disposition to take pictures and sign autographs while he's trying to have dinner.

"Not at all," he shakes his head and waits patiently for everyone to be camera-ready while you stare. "Aren't you getting in the picture?"

"I'll take it," you hold your hand out for an iPhone, and get Holly's bedazzled one. Charles frowns but you just say 'okay, ready?' before pointing the camera at them.

No one else argues the fact that you're not in the picture.

A chorus of 'thank you's' passes quickly as you return the iPhone and the three influencers start checking the picture. They're probably better photographers than you, you can accept that.

"So I'll see you tomorrow, y/n," Charles leans towards you, leaving the group to their own thing after he pleased their request. "Right?"

"I'll be the one drinking Elix," you joke, half-whining.

"I'll be the one in the red car," Charles jokes back, a wide smile spreading on his face.

You laugh, fighting against the sudden shyness caused by the familiarity.

"Goodnight," he calls quietly, and the girls wish him a goodnight and good luck for the race before he snakes through tables back to his friends.

Not another thank you is directed at you as your group leaves the restaurant to wait for the Uber back to the hotel.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello! thank you for reading! I'm really grateful for everyone who has interacted with this story, I hope you're enjoying it so far ♡❞

[idontknow-andyoudonteither]

Toji the Softie pt.2

Pt.1 : https://www.tumblr.com/idontknow-andyoudonteither/740171522886500352/toji-the-softie?source=share

For the first time in a long time Toji genuinely felt relaxed. He was often unbothered by most things, and never really afraid either. He was pretty patient too, especially with his line of work. But relaxed? That wasn’t something he had the luxury of immersing himself in fully often. Ever since he had started hanging out with his upstairs neighbor though, Toji was starting to get more comfortable fully relaxing. He didn’t have to focus on who he was going to fight next, or if he was going to have to deal with the Zenin clan. He didn’t have to worry about cursed spirits, or money problems, he could just be. Most people want to know all about Toji and his past. But whenever he’s with you none of that matters, you’re in a vacuum where only what’s present exists.

“Well I’ll be back to bother you tomorrow, I’ve gotta work out.” He said as he sat up and stretched. He didn’t want to linger in this feeling too long, because he didn’t want to be let down. He wanted to bottle this feeling, and drink it at night before bed. “Of course, I’m going to the store in the morning, but afterwards I’ll be here.” You said as you walked him to the door. He watched you as you walked, and he loved the way you looked leading him. He wished he was walking to your bedroom rather than your front door, but he had a job to do, and it wouldn’t get done cuddling and kissing grapes. As he walked down the hall back to his place, he began to think about what it would be like to live with you. Would you sit in the room with him while he worked out? Would you be in the kitchen making him a post- workout snack with the cat? He laughed to himself as he walked into his place. You had even got him to like cats. Your cat didn’t like him at first, and the feeling was mutual, but he tolerated Fluffy so he could cuddle up to you. Eventually he even enjoyed Fluffy’s soft fur against him, like a heated blanket that vibrated. It was like Fluffy always knew where he was sore, and would try and heal him with his purrs.

As Toji climbed into bed, he imagined what it would be like to sleep with you in his arms. He wondered just how comfortable you were with him. You had accepted the grape much to his delight, and it made him feel like something was finally put in its proper place. He wanted to get closer to you, but he wanted to take his time. You were a safe space for him, and he wouldn’t dare do anything to jeopardize that. Also he knew your type. You were easy to read, but only because you felt comfortable with him. To anyone you didn’t want close, they wouldn’t see much in your actions. Toji however had an insider’s look on how you lived your life. He treasured that window into your life, because it allowed him to feel what he couldn’t give to himself. You were comforting, beautiful, smart, and ambitious.

When he woke up Toji started his day with a run. It felt good to push his body to a new limit, allowed him to expel some energy he had stored up. After his run he went to do some target practice. As he hit bulls eye after bulls eye his mind drifted to thoughts of his plans for the rest of the day. He had errands to run, and he was determined to finish on time, because he wanted to see you today. After target practice he decides to text you on his way home.

Hey you still out at the market?

Yeah what’s up?

He wants to tell you to grab some stuff for dinner, but figures its better to just surprise you.

Grab some more of those grapes :)

Will you eat them all again?

Toji would let you have every last grape if he could watch you eat them. He would savor every moment, just as you savor every grape. He would give you a kiss for each grape making sure not to miss anywhere on your body. But he figures saying that might freak you out if he said that, so he settles for something less committal; You can have some…………. If I can feed them to you. Toji finishes his errands, and begins cooking. While the curry thickened, he cleaned up around his place a little bit, making sure to check in and adjust the flavor when necessary. When he felt his place looked presentable he texted you a door emoji. That’s new what does that mean? you responded. Come down here and see ;) Toji responded. A few minutes later he heard a knock at the door. He smiled as he opened the door, and your expression made him smile even harder. You looked so suspicious of him, but in a playful way like a kid who knows their friend is going to prank them.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Toji said as you stepped in and he closed the door. “Please make yourself comfortable dinner is almost ready.” “What’s going on Toji?” you asked as you nervously stepped toward the couch. “I figured we would do something different tonight, I want to thank you for how hospitable you’ve been these past few weeks, and for all the snacks I ate.” Toji said turning off the fire and coming to join you on the couch. “Do you want anything to drink? I can get some sake or some tea for you.” Toji says leaning forward in his seat. He felt so eager to take care of you; he wanted to make you feel at home so that when he made his request later you couldn’t refuse him. He couldn’t bare it if you did. He needed you to stay.

[ambriel-angstwitch]

My Commentary on Tim Drake: Robin

Because it’s my blog and I can do what I want

Starting off strong with the panel that made TimKon shippers go crazy

Ahhh! I love them calling eachother the Batfam it makes me happy

Then look at how small Bart looks

Small boy

A couple commentaries not connected to any particular panel but I adore the art style and I’m so happy Tim and Stephanie worked things out.

But I think Tim might have a type

TimKon shippers, TimBern Shippers and Platonic Tim and Steph fans somehow all got fed with this Pride Comic

People say Jason is the book nerd when Tim Spends this whole story recognizing and remembering the plots of detective novel not to mention he recognizes that he lost four books and figured which ones they are not to mention just the collection of book he treats like his most precious items. Like I acknowledge Jason and Jane Austen and love it but he should not be the only one joked about being a book nerd.

These clone escue thingys show up and Tim’s thoughts about them are so interesting.

I adore that even as he’s fighting them he’s saying praise for all of them, though he’s got the most for Dick. And the first read through I thought he didn’t compliment Jason and that made me sad.

Close up on Damian’s because you can’t really see it in the full page pic and the my baby brother just really got to me. I am very susceptible to Batfam moments

But Gosh even knowing they’re not his actual family it’s got to hurt to hear them confirm all his worst fears of never measuring up.

Well like father like son I guess. It’s not like Batman hasn’t figured out how to take down almost any hero he meets.

Little does Bernard know.

I love the TimBern in this. Their relationship is still developing, it’s clear that Bernard is comfortable in it from the start of the volume but Tim has his doubts of where they stand, of whether this is a good idea because he’s just dragging Bernard into his mess. But Bernard has his own messes and struggles and they can just be with eachother through all that

Tim. Timmy boy. That’s not a good thing. You should learn how to have some more self preservation, just because your family are all self sacrificing doesn’t mean it’s the healthy way to be.

Why is Superboy’s biggest fan what Tim finally responds to? Also why does Bernard call him that? Is Tim talking about him all the time? Also I love that Bernard calls him his boy wonder once again little does he know. (This is another scene I’ve seen TimKon fans go crazy for)

That’s the last picture on this post as I’ve hit the limit but the book was very good! I loved the villian, loved how they explored Tim. Love the Tim Bern. Tim coming to the realization that it’s ok not to know who he is yet is amazing. He’s figuring things out and that’s ok.

[rin-and-jade]

Guys, did you know that alters still and will form/split from little T's and Micro T's? Well now you do!

Whenever you are living your life, doing your day, with no recurrence of childhood trauma for a good while.. but you still seem to have new peeps? Yet you don't know why?? Fret not as i tell you some, although not an extensive list of reasons such as;

The Lil' T, things that aren't as severe as the Big OG Trauma but still enough to waver you:

Financial issues

Relationship conflicts (hostility, or inconsistent emotional support)

Having debilitating/chronic health issues (be it physical or mental)

Neglect, victim of harrasment/bullying, invalidation and etc (in mild forms, clarification on below)

The Micro T, that are capable to annoy you like a fly, though you still have a limit to these type of T's:

Working a job with high demands, or a stressful environment

Chasing a deadline (and not just this once)

Bad triggers

Involved in arguments often (aha, i know you still think about it)

Now you're asking, "what should i do then, Jade?" and because you need some prompts (tips), here you go:

Relaxation techniques: when you feel like you're going to explode (or something lit up the fuse recently) then its logical to blow the fire out before it can actually explode. Things like having a warm shower, taking care of yourself, or some time off to wind down for a moment will help.

Regulating feelings: antsy? mad? upset? or "dshsdfhgjfds"? Instead of shoving the feelings away, please let yourself feel it, acknowledge that you are currently feeling and understand why it happened, what's the cause, talk it out to someone to feel better but yelling inside or writing in the private server also works.

Outlets: If you feel like writing down isn't enough/helpful, then maybe doing art, crushing some empty cans, or going to your trusty support group will do just fine.

Therapy: got money but not people? Do yourself a favor and try it, you'll learn lots of coping mechanisms, plus you'll have support and someone to talk to so thats a big win.

Mindset: Having an accepting and self-supporting thoughts are way better than devaluing and adding extra blames and faults as it perpetuates the cycle of stress and pressure, so why not go easy on yourself from now on?

I know you might think that its not severe enough, its not bad enough, but from now one you have to think differently, no matter how big or small, it is still stress, and when stress builds up all those things happen. (to top it off with other issues such as bad internal communication and brain fog) And it make sense because the severe ones are enough to form new peeps, same goes for the tiny ones but are consistent, okay?

I personally struggle with this LOTS even if traumas from the past aren't happening again yet i still have subsystems and all, and after a good while of practicing, it now barely happens. Hope this is also helpful for you guys since the previous post about dissociation was a hit!!! Click here to see it

Edit: it came to my attention that i forgot to clarify that yes, harassment, bullying and etc as it’s own severe form and can be classified as the OG Trauma, though there are minor forms especially in bullying where it’s extents from calling names and other stuffs that aren’t as harmful in a physical form.

- j

[mrhowells]

Smallville 5x06

"How you ever had a crush on Richie Cunningham, I will never understand."

I'm actually so easy to please

"And Lois... *laughs* I'd do anything to get rid of Lois."

but thinking about how annoying she is makes him laugh, soooooo... she's a good influence, I rest my case😌😌

Jonathan knows too, like-

Chloe & Lois as an investigative duo are actually really fun

Lex really lives in Jonathan's head rent free💀💀

ohmygoooooddd

MOTHER.

"She's here to dance."

Chloe really threw Lois under the bus like that I'm cryingsjakjsha

the struggle is real💀

SOOOOO let's see if Jonathan actually apologizes when it turns out Lex didn't do anything

CLARKFNKLJFDISLYS

COVER YOUR EYES SWEET SUMMER CHILD

Lois x bisexual lighting I LIVEEEE

they did that for me😭😌

"I'll have a coke😇" ... "S- straight up, on the rocks.😤"

JAkhsshfdlskaBOOBOO WHAT ARE YOU-

I just choked on my ice cream

LMAOOOOOO bless his heart

THE STRUGGLE IS REAL PART 2 I'M CRYINDHSGFJFKD

I'm really not ready for what's about to go down here😭😭

🎶DON'T YOU WISH YOUR GIRLFRIEND WAS HOT LIKEEE MEEEEEEE🎶

Someone needs to go to jail for that music choice💀💀

TOM WELLING YOUR FACE JOURNEYS. LET ME SAY THANK YOU KING🙇‍♀️

this is history in the making. absolutely iconic.

🎶DON'T YOU WISH YOUR GIRLFRIEND WAS WRONG LIKE MEEEEEE🎶🎶

i do wish she was my girlfriend actually they're so right

aaand she's getting into it

ON MY FUCKING KNEES FOR HER MA'AM YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE PLEASEEEE

he's kind of giving me:

PLEASEWSWKRJWOPQP

EVERY SINGLE FRAME OF THIS IS SO FUCKING ICONIC LIKE WHAT DO I EVEN SAY??

it's okay bb, we're all looking respectfully right now

💀💀💀THE STRUGGLE IS REAL PT.3

SOMEONE PLEASE HELP THIS BEAN

kshadjwka his fight or flight is kicking in😭😭

"What are you doing here?" "What are YOU doing here?"

story of their life fr

the struggle has never been more real, pray for Clark💀

.

they did that.

smallville writers really did that.

legend behaviour if you ask me

i would like to take this moment and say thank you.

"I've never been in a position where people look up to me."

This is such a silly statement, Jonathan is literally the person Clark looks up to the most. His bigger personality flaws clearly come from Jonathan's influence💀 (not to say he didn't also learn a lot of good traits from him -he absolutely did- but you know)

I'm really curious what Lex's (and Jonathan's) politics are actually, don't be shy writers tell me👀

SIR I NEED YOU TO STEP AWAY FROM MY WIFE IMMEDIATELY

creepy mf

"Hey 007. Nice of you to show up." "I'll start assuming that means thank you?"

giggling kicking my feet

"I can't touch him." "Well, I can."

I'VE SAID IT BEFORE AND I'LL SAY IT AGAIN, MOTHERRRR

pls his face😭

he knows he could never be as cool as her

THIS SHOT MAKES ME FERAL

my parents🥹

(listen the shit i went through to upload this last picture tho, i hit the upload limit and had to delete stuff, then i accidentally deleted the whole post for a second🤡 my whole life flashed before my eyes💀💀)

Lex talking about a guy falling in love with his best friend's wife uh oh, no thank youuuuu😬😬

He was making a good point though.

"The thing I always try to remember is, no matter how much le lays on, he never expects more than he expects from himself."

Clark really grew up didn't he😭😭

"What are you doing, you just moved back in."

from the guy who said "I'd do anything to get of Lois." at the beginning of the episode, what in the clownery🤡🤡

All men do is lie.

she's such a menace, I LOVE HER😭😭

AND HE CAN'T STAY MAD AT HER LOOK AT HIS FACEEEEE

they're secret bffs your honor😭

I LOVE THEMMM IT'S ACTUALLY SO SERIOUS

"And you didn't have to come after me but you always do. So I wanted to say thank you. You're a really good friend."

GOING INSANE ON THIS SATURDAY NIGHT

CUT IT OUT YOU ASSHOLES I'M TRYING TO STAY NORMAL UNTIL SEASON 8 QUIT EYE FUCKINGZFGDUWEOAK

well. stay normal challenge failed again but that's exactly how i thought this would go, sooo

Question for the people: should i even tag Lex in posts like this? I don't think twice about tagging characters like Jonathan because I don't expect fans to look through his tag for him specifically, but i know people do it with Lex and I feel bad at the thought of them having to scroll through me losing my mind over Clois with a few Lex mentions in between. Lex fans lemme know

[desertfangs]

I was trying to find the scene anon mentioned (and I did!) but I got too caught up and decided to to a little "Daniel being a little shit on the plane" compilation:

"You're dying", Armand said softly.

"And though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, etcetera."

2. There is almost nothing left the word that you enjoy.

"Except talking to you now and then. It's so easy to hear everything you say."

3. If you were never to see me again, that would only make things worse. If you go on as you are, you won't live another five days.

Unbearable thought, actually. But if that's so, then why have I been running away?

4. "I'm dying. They're dying. They got to be immortal before it happened; I am merely alive. See? I remember. I would like to have the bourbon now."

There is nothing I can do to make you want to live, isn't that so?

"Not that again. I will jump out of the plane if you go on".

5. "How can I help it? I can't get away from your voice when you want me to listen. It's like a tiny microphone inside my head. What is this? Tears? You're going to weep over me?"

6. "I work with limited equipment. The cells in my body are subject to deterioration, to a process called aging and--"

7. "For all that's happened, Lestat is to blame".

"A real devil among devils", Daniel laughed softly.

With a subtle nod, Armand acknowledged the little jest. He even smiled.

Daniel really said "I'll die tonight but not before one last stand up banger" 💣 And it just hit me how much they laugh during that whole scene. Even as they "get" to the Villa, and as weary and uncertain as Armand feels, they're both laughing so much. They never stop being playful and sweet with each other, even during Daniel's death/rebirth. I love them your honor 😭

Anon, thank you for doing the lord's work! (Speaking very metaphorically of course!) I need to save this post to look at when I get sad.

That's the thing with Devil's Minion though - Armand is described as being playful and laughing a lot in there. Daniel describes him as curious and whimsical and captivated by mundane things, but also as someone who laughs easily and whose laughter he adores.

They have philosophical conversations but it's Armand's laughter that really gets Daniel in the scene at the Copley: "Armand had been so delighted, laughing and laughing like a schoolboy as he sat watching, with folded arms. It was the first time Daniel had ever heard that soft, silky laughter. So seductive. He got drunk as fast as he could."

I think that right there was the moment when Daniel realized he was in deep and I believe from that moment on, making Armand laugh becomes one of Daniel's favorite things in the world. Even when he's dying. Honestly, I think Daniel would have been okay knowing the last sound he would ever hear would be Armand's laughter. (Luckily it did not come to that!)

I also love them so much 😭😭 Thank you for the list, anon! This is so great!

[hikennosabo]

trigun multiple bullets random thoughts

if you thought you saw the last of me in the tag... think again!!!

let's fucking goooooo... it's been a little while, so i feel like i'm rusty LMAO...

showdown with the dodongo brothers at honeycomb village (parts 1 & 2):

wow that's a mouthful of a chapter title. anyway.

seeing manga vash with fully blonde hair is... a little strange, now.

OH, SAME WITH SEEING WOLFWOOD... y'know... alive... i fucking MISSED HIMMMMMMM (<- i literally just saw him, i've been rewatching 98 again)

this is so fun i love it so much

oh there are SO many good expressions but if i post them all i'm sure i'll hit the image limit

vash's pout is so cute and funny but i NEED to draw attention to meryl in the corner... i love her sm

vash is twiddling his thumbs... he's so cute...

well these sure are names

even in the black-and-white manga... even though her hair was brown on the color page... we STILL get a blonde milly jumpscare?!?! really?!?!?

AAHHHH... HIS SMILE.... TOO BRIGHT......!!!!!!

they're so silly :( i missed this... waaaah...

oh my goodness, i am in LOVE with this page.

i love wolfwood scolding vash too, lol. it's a conversation they've had many times before, but it feels... idk, lighter than usual?

i love this page soooo much... their expressions are cute. i'm getting "he's an idiot, but he's MY idiot" vibes from wolfwood, lol :') they're in love your honor

and the cliffhanger reveal... i don't have that much to say about the plot tbh... hmmmm, i'm not separating these chapters in this post anyway.

they :)

it wouldn't be a nightow action scene if it was easy to follow, but i'm glad i examined this page in detail instead of letting my eyes just pass over it because

i LOVE this panel... the one in the middle of the spread is great too but i LOVE the angle of this... vash reaching over wolfwood to shoot, while wolfwood shields him... ugh... thank GOD for vashwood

oh my god...... he's so cute.......

GIRLLLLSSSS I LOVE YOUUUUU

OH YEAH, VASHWOOD, BABEY!!!!!!!!!! vash holding on to the punisher... :D

is vash shooting the rockets so they change trajectory... that's so fucking insane. i love it

THE SILLIES

man this was a fun one. i loved seeing vashwood being a battle couple again and just having a relatively low-stakes/light-hearted romp was a really nice thing to read after the horrors. which i am now a few weeks removed from, but they still haunt me...

trigun: the lost plant:

as someone who had (has!! i still love it!) an enduring dr stone obsession in 2021-2022, i am IMMUNE to boichi's art!!! this is significantly hornier than dcst though, not that i'm surprised in the slightest, dcst does have its own horny designs/moments unfortunately... this is the difference between shonen and seinen i suppose--hold on, that's not what this post is about!! *deletes entire other paragraph talking about dr stone*

60 years post-canon... vash's lifespan has been significantly shortened, but i do wonder how much he has left in him. he lived 150 years without any visible black appearing in his hair, so even if he has just a few strands of blonde left, they might last him a long time... well i don't think any of these stories are canon anyway so it doesn't matter LOL

as far as the plot goes...

the explanation for how plants produce matter is interesting but why did it manifest as a child and why is it a black hole and why this specific plant and how did vash even--oh, WHATEVER!! i suppose there is a reason boichi was the artist for dr stone and not the writer.

very cool to see vash drawn in boichi's style though! it's pretty similar to the early dr stone manga, even though dcst came 5+ years later... and the art style of dcst changed over time, although--wait, no, that's NOT what this post is about!!!

the denizens of the sand planet:

okay, this one is by... *googles* wait, this is the guy who did lucifer and the biscuit hammer?? and planet with??? HUHHH... i've only watched planet with, but i've heard VERY good things about biscuit hammer (manga)... anyway

this is a cute story. the found family is cute.

okay sorry this doesn't matter but it is bugging me (ha) a bit. these post-canon stories don't like... actually show us how the world changed after the battle. because it's something i've been wondering about... like, they show a guy cleaning a plant bulb, but would there even be any plants left in bulbs at this point?

and like, this...

wouldn't the exploitation end. like i suppose plants would still get "worn out" eventually, but i would expect more of a symbiotic relationship at this point. so what's with this imagery?

I'M OVERTHINKING IT!!!!! OKAY!!!! JUST ENJOY THE CUTE FOUND FAMILY STORY!!!!

les enfants:

i. am. in. LOVE!!!! WITH THIS ART STYLE!!!!!!

THEY ARE SO FUCKING SHAPED!!!!!!

legato?!?!?! :D :D :D :D :D

ohhh i love this redraw!!!!!! oghhhhhh!!!!!! oooooooogh!!!!!

i love this art!!!!! i love this art!!!!!!

EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP HE'S SLEEPING!!!!!! ohhh i love this. i like the wording too. "decided to slumber"... he's fucking eepy. he's cozy.

ALSOOOOO

RAZLO (i'm assuming)!!! HE'S SO FUCKING. SHAPED. his GRIN!!! IS SO FUNNY. i'm in tears... i love him...

WAAAHHHH COUCH JUMPSCARE... I DONT NEED THIS WHEN I'M EXPERIENCING SUCH JOY GUSHING OVER THE ART...

the art outside the storybook is also lovely, it's very detailed and delicate...

i would like to believe merylmilly got married and grew old together... yeah...

DUDE, I'M GONNA CRY...... vashwood image... this is a really lovely story. definitely my favorite of all of them.

milly/meryl satellite tv:

so they chase him around for 24 hours straight once a week... poor vash LOL

hey hey hey hey hey this is supposed to be a silly goofy fun time why are you showing me this. i'm so sad. i'm glad the family is being fed at least.

i always assumed that "eriks" was a name vash chose for himself but this is way funnier

there is so much going on here

LIVIO LMAO......

yeah that was very silly

raijin: rising:

incredibly jarring tone shift from the previous story lol... i really enjoy the rai-dei focus though. he's cool but he didn't get a backstory in the manga so i appreciate this a lot. i wouldn't mind more stories like this focusing exclusively on side characters tbh.

it gets pretty brutal... i don't know what to say about this story besides that. it's an interesting look at what could've made rai-dei the way he is.

cutting is fighting:

we're ending this not with a bang but with a whimper... swapping meryl in for the haircut scene is... blegh. whatever. and they exaggerate her crush on vash too much. like yeah she's kind of tsundere in canon (moreso in the anime imo) but she's not a teenager yknow? the satellite tv story did that too but that one was supposed to be goofy and exaggerated so it was whatever.

the most interesting thing here is the lack of dialogue. that's a fun creative choice. and i like the gag with vash's hair being too nasty to comb LOL... and the haircut options. that's all...

overall i'd give this a... 6.5/10? 'les enfants' was definitely my favorite by far and nightow's story was a lot of fun too. the others ranged from "meh at best" to "sure, it was good" lol. i liked seeing the different art styles... i don't have much else to say.

[kukuandkookie]

NEW SEE YOU MY KING CHAPTER HAS ME SCREAMING REALLY GIDDILY LIKE I CHUGGED A LITRE OF CAFFEINE OMG SOFHWIDHAKDHSIDHAJDNSKBS

THEY’RE JUST SO CUTE I’M GOING TO CRY 😭😭😭😭

ALSO THIS IS LIKE…ONE OF MY FAVOURITE TROPES…

Where Character A sort of experiences seeing Character B get injured (whether due to being inside someone’s memory or here because they look alike) so when Character B shows up, Character A feels the need to hug them and confirm they’re actually okay and safe in front of them.

Zhang Li: Let me hold you for a moment. Just for a moment…

He saw Sute’s puppet brother being torn to shreds by the trap’s thread and immediately thought of Lunkhead falling apart, so he wanted to hug Mimi.

AND WHAT IF I SCREAM…

He’s taking note of how Mimi’s body is trembling and how his heartbeat is strong, meaning he’s still alive and it’s okay. 🥹

This body is trembling… His heartbeat is strong… He’s still alive… Perfectly alive…

He needs the reassurance,,, that he’s okay,,,, 😭😭😭😭

Also speaking of Sute…

He’s pretty terrifying LDGJKSHDSJ. I love insane green tea bitches like him, and it’s really cool to see who he is now that his mask is off. 👀

Zhang Li asked him if his neck still hurt (from when he was grazed by Zhang Li’s arrow), and Sute tackles and strangled him, demanding, “Little guard, does your neck hurt?”

He’s definitely holding a grudge against Zhang Li and has now completely adopted his ragtag corpse puppet as his true beloved, protective brother, with him telling him he’ll get him new hands—and a proper heart—in the future.

Ever since Erha and other similar stories, I do find these kinds of characters—especially with their twisted interpretations of love—really fascinating. He came close to killing Zhang Li today but couldn’t, so I’m excited to see what else Sute gets up to to get back at them.

In comparison to his brother though…

MIMI IS SO PRECIOUS!!

Even Zhang Li now is realizing how much like Lunkhead Mimi is, and he’s wondering when it started or if it’s always been like this… But he also thought about how Mimi is acting like this now because he’s pretending to be his guard.

Something something about their classes and ranks being different and Mimi having to play the part of a tyrant king/pharaoh and all the sad connotations that come with that…

But God, before we get into any of the potential sadder things the author would intend to explore with this couple, I just appreciate them for being them. They’re so adorable. Mimi especially!

In the panel below, he’s asking Zhang Li not to recklessly put himself at risk with no regard for his own life again. Excuse me as I go sob. 🤧

ALSO MIMI YOU’RE SO BAD AT YOUR JOB (those bandages are atrocious) AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT 🥹

He held back his temper at Zhang Li since he’s injured (and because he loves him *cough cough*) but he yelled at Xiao Wei for it. Poor Xiao Wei ahahaha. He had to save Zhang Li and then he gets fed dog food by the PDA of these two and then he gets yelled at by his boss even though he’s injured too lol.

But okay final note because I’ve hit the Tumblr post image limit:

Holy fuck Zhang Li you’re such a boss. You’re one of the most capable protagonists I have ever read about…

Not only did he manage to get back the hands on Sute’s puppet brother for Kaba, he even poisoned Sute. 👁️👁️

So they’re at an advantage now!! I can’t wait to see what happens next!

[illfoandillfie]

Thanks for the request! I think I’ve figured out why tumblr isn’t letting me post these things as actual replies to the asks. Apparently, from what I’ve been able to find out, ask responses have a character limit of a little over 4000. But I’m using a lot fuckin more than that to write a 1000 word blurb, so it keeps giving me error messages. I’m making this post in the legacy editor because I think it works better but you have to use the new editor when replying to asks and its a whole fuckin thing. It’s 1am rn but in the morning I might investigate xkit or something to see if theres an easier fix. If anyone knows anything please tell me lmao.

ANYWAY back to the smut. I had totally forgotten about the original blurb so if you need a refresher you can find it here. This one picks up right after the spanking is finished.

Warnings: references to spanking and public humiliation, degradation (whore/slut), semi-public sex, bathroom sex, fingering, p in v sex, references to oral sex (f receiving) and recording. i think thats it but its 1am so let me know if i missed something big

When you left the studio it was with teary eyes and a stinging bum. You kept your head down as you headed for the door, not wanting to meet anyone’s eye. Flirting with Roger had been fun, teasing him with your short skirt had been fun, and wearing no knickers just in case he wanted something to happen had definitely been fun. But you realised now you hadn’t quite known what you were getting yourself into. Had the spanking happened under different circumstances you were sure you’d have been nothing but pleased. But Roger had chosen to bend you over his knee in front of a room full of men – his bandmates and audio technicians who worked at the studio. It had been humiliating knowing they were silently watching it happen, listening to each crack of Roger’s palm against your arse. And, the worst part was how horny it had left you. You’d been aroused before the spanking but now you were wet. Pulling the door closed, you took a moment to lean against it, hoping to get your breathing under control and calm down.   “Rog, what the fuck?” Someone’s muffled voice asked, though it was difficult to know exactly who. “I can’t believe you just did that to her.” “What? She’s been throwing herself at me all day.” That last one had been Roger and he seemed completely indifferent to your humiliation. You couldn't bear to hear anything else and absolutely didn’t want to be around the next time one of them came looking for assistance. So you fled to the ladies room.

It was quiet in the bathroom. You washed your face and used the mirror to examine the red patches Roger had left on your arse cheeks. Try as you might, you couldn’t help thinking about the incident. In the moment you’d barely thought of the audience you had, only noticing once the hits had stopped and you’d stood up and seen them all frozen in place. And even then it had taken you a few seconds to realise what it meant. In the immediate aftermath your mind had been completely occupied with thoughts of fucking Roger, of how insanely horny you were. You shook your head, cringing away from your reflection as you replayed the whole thing in your mind again. Needing to sit down to try and process the whole thing, you shut yourself in one of the stalls and sat on the closed toilet lid, pressing your palms to your eyes like you could delete the afternoon from your memory.   Suddenly the door to the bathroom squeaked. Maybe you could sneak out of the building and just go home, call in sick for a few days.   “Y/N?” a familiar voice called. You breathed in sharply and then cursed yourself when you watched the person’s feet move across the bathroom and stop outside your stall. “Are you okay?” Roger asked. Since he knew you were there, you decided it’d be best to face him straight away rather than waiting him out. With a deep breath for courage you opened the door and walked to the sink, refusing to look at him. “Well Roger, you just spanked me in front of a bunch of people, some of whom I will have to work with after your band leaves. So no, not really.”   Roger had the decency to look a bit sheepish but you were too busy trying to explain how horrible it had been to let him get a word in. “You humiliated me. I had no idea that was what you intended and I wasn’t expecting it to happen in the studio and then after the punishment you didn’t even try to touch me let alone get me off.” Roger’s rapidly appearing smirk made you stop and realise what you’d just said.   “No, oh my god, no that’s not what I meant to say.” “I knew you enjoyed the spanking.” “Shut up, no. That’s not-” “Well love,” Roger said still smirking, “I didn’t cum either and I would have followed you sooner if I’d been able to stand up, but it took me a few minutes to calm the old fella down. Even just thinking about all your adorable little whimpers and squeals now has got me stiff as a rock. So I think theres a way to solve both our problems.” You hesitated, once again taken off guard by Roger, and unsure what to do. He deserved to be turned down, at least until he’d apologised properly. And yet, you were tempted to agree with his idea.   Sensing your indecision, Roger said, “No audience this time, no punishment. If anything, this is a reward for taking a spanking so well. You deserve to cum. You deserve my cock.” It was infuriating how cocky he was and yet you began talking yourself into it, excited to have the chance to actually fuck him.  Roger was hot and the spanking had been hot and if he was half as good as he obviously thought he was then you wanted to experience it. “Okay.” “Good girl,” he half growled, turning you around and pressing on your back to make you bend over, “would have been a waste not to fuck you after you went to all the trouble of not wearing panties. Now let’s have a look at you.�� You whimpered as he pushed your skirt up, examining the results of your punishment.   He let out a hum as he ran his hands softly over the skin, “Faded a little but it looks very good on you. If my cock wasn’t about to break through my jeans I’d give you a few more just to see how you handle it.” But, no matter how mean he sounded, Roger’s touch was nothing but nice. He delicately traced around the hardest hit parts, which still smarted, and then trailed his hands down to your pussy lips.   You panted, the arousal you’d felt from being bent over his knee immediately rekindled.   “You really are a whore,” he growled, fingers becoming more insistent as they worked into your hole, “Can feel how much you’re enjoying this already.” You just nodded at him through the mirror, trying to retain some dignity by not outright begging for more.   Roger’s attention was mostly focused on watching his fingers disappearing into your cunt, monitoring how easily you were accepting new ones, how frequently you clenched with the need for more.   “Think you’re ready for my cock now.” He suddenly announced, unbuckling his belt.   “I am, Roger,” you whined as you lost his touch, pushing yourself back to try and hurry him. Roger just laughed at your eagerness as he pushed his pants down and took his cock in hand.   “No condoms, sorry. But I’ll pull out and cum on your arse, promise.” “Okay,” you nodded, sure his naked cock would feel so much better than a condom. He notched his tip at your entrance, “Just tell me when you’re close to I can be ready, okay?” “Okay, okay, just put it in already.” You caught his smirk in the mirror again but quickly lost it as he sheathed himself in your heat, pushing deeper than you’d expected on the first thrust. Your arms shook and you lowered yourself to rest on your forarms, moaning as he worked himself into you.  

Roger’s pace quickened immediately, each thrust coming quicker than the one before. His hands gripped you tight, one alternating between toying with your sore arse and your clit, the other pressing down on your back to keep you angled the way he wanted. You didn’t try to fight him either. The angle was working just as well for you, making you gasp and moan as he rubbed against some truly delicious spots. And whenever he decided he’d been quiet for too long, Roger was sure to come out with something new to say, calling you degrading names and talking about how good you felt for him. Before long the combination of your humiliating arousal from being spanked, his grade A dirty talk, and the physical sensations of being fucked so well, had your body tightening on the verge of orgasm. “C-Close,” you managed to gasp, the familiar sensation of nearing release sitting in the pit of your stomach.   And then suddenly Roger stopped. You whined desperately and tried your best to fuck yourself backwards onto his cock but he wouldn’t let you move, pinning you to the benchtop instead. “Please, you promised.” “Oh don’t worry, I’ll let you cum. Twice even, since you obviously love my cock so much. I just have one request.” Letting your head drop to your arms you asked him what he meant.   “Stay late with me tonight.” “What? Late? Why?” “I might have incidentally got your spanking on tape earlier and I’d like to have a matching recording of your pathetic, desperate moans.” “Roger!” you felt flustered again and couldn’t quiet meet his grinning reflections eye.   “I swear I didn’t mean to. I didn’t realise they’d started recording. But listening to you be a filthy slut while I eat you out or full your needy cunt would be much easier to get off to.” You hid your head in your arms again but Roger forced you to look up. “No one else heard the first recording and no one else would hear this one. Just me. So I can think of you while I wank.” You tried to squirm again but he grabbed your hips to still you and you broke, “Okay, anything you want Roger, please just let me cum.” “That’s my good cock whore.” he cooed, pulling out and ramming back into you as his fingers found your clit once more, “two orgasms now, like I said.” You just nodded as your denied orgasm picked up again, rapidly building to a strong climax. But even after you came Roger didn’t stop, relentlessly rubbing your clit and pounding into your cunt, rushing you into a second orgasm.” You were nearly sobbing as Roger pulled out entirely and stroked himself off onto your arse. And you were still leaning against the bench, dazed and satisfied, as he did his pants back up and moved to the bathroom door.   “I’ll see you tonight.”  

[obsidiancreates]

Some thoughts/criticisms of Battle of the Five Armies because I'm back on my Hobbit Movies bullshit

Should've put more screen time (and by "more" I mean "any at all") into Thorin's descent into the Gold Madness/Dragon Sickness. A lot of BotFA feels, to me, a bit... meandering. Like they needed to hit a certain length but weren't fully sure how to fill it (and I think that also shows in how it's the shortest of all 3 movies, at least Extended Edition-wise). We go right from "They all watched Smaug die," to "He's been down there for days and he's as Gold-Mad as Thror." We needed more connective tissue between those scenes- even just a scene of Bilbo noticing Thorin is refusing food, maybe trying to convince him to eat ("Thorin, take your share." "I've no need of it." "You can't live on gold alone, you know, heh, ahem." "We shall see, Master Baggins.") or something like that.

I get why Smaug died in the first twenty minutes. I do! There's both story reasons as well as behind-the-scenes logistical reasons (can y'all imagine what these movies would've been like if they'd had Reasonable Deadlines, less studio pressure, and more ethical cast and crew treatment? It would've fixed any of the CGI issues, they could've cleaned up some of the odd pacing and editing moments, none of those awful "QUICK QUICK QUICK WE'RE ALMOST OUT OF TIME!" moments in the Appendices would've existed... Fuck Warner Bros, man. Peter Jackson obviously had a lot to do with a lot of the unethical overtime and expectations and wasted time/effort, but like Warner Bros also contributed to this Massively). Anyway, I get why Smaug died so early into the movie. But god, I wish he hadn't. Now I haven't read the novel to it's end in about 13 years give or take- I keep picking it up, getting a good ways in, forgetting to continue, and then picking it up and starting over at the beginning- but I remember Smaug's death being a very Little Thing in the book, since it was Third-Person limited (mostly) and Bilbo wasn't in Laketown. I know that this wasn't a moment of Inaccuracy (though honestly I don't mind most of the inaccuracies but that's for another post some other time) but it was a moment of Deeply Unsatisfying Payoff. Again, I understand why! It's kinda unsatisfying in the novel too- frankly, a lot of the ending stuff in The Hobbit is, but you didn't hear that from me, got it? I'm not sure, exactly, what I wish was different about it. Killing Smaug at the end of Desolation wasn't really a viable or satisfying option either, and focusing more on Laketown would've gotten tedious and repetitive- only so much Burning and Screaming can be made into Watchable Cinema at one time. I think perhaps a larger focus on Gandalf and his experiences with Sauron could've worked here- especially if Sauron is somehow Aware of Laketown falling and uses this to mock and torment Gandalf, speaking of how the quest of the dwarves has truly failed and Middle-Earth is soon to fall the same way- but again, I understand why they didn't do that, that's just a lot of Ian McKellen sitting in a birdcage getting Taunted by an Eyeball. So I don't know what I would've had them change, and I think a not insignificant amount of this Dissatisfaction is unavoidable given the glossed-over nature of the very same plot point in the book. But it's still saddening, especially since they nailed Smaug so well and he's such a fun villain to watch on screen. Azog... a good deal less so.

Bro we couldn't have had one line where they were like "OH GOD FILI KILI BOFUR AND OIN ARE STILL DOWN THERE!" when they were watching Laketown burn? One show that someone remembered FOUR OF THEIR PARTY IS STILL THERE?!

Some of the line deliveries in this movie were an... interesting, choice, to make into the final cut. I'll chalk it up to Those Damn Studio Deadlines, though.

I know I already talked about this but SERIOUSLY WHERE WAS THE CONNECTIVE TISSUE OF THORIN'S MADNESS, IT AIN'T EVEN IN THE EXTENDED THE EXTENDED IS MOSTLY THE ACTUAL BATTLE (plus the Best Scene In The Movie where Balin alludes to Bilbo to keep the Arkenstone hidden forever, which it's a crime that was left out of the theatrical by the way).

Yeah okay the Kili and Tauriel parting at the shore was kind cliched and acted weird. Again I'll chalk it up to The Deadlines.

If we could've have had the Connective Tissue scene(s), I wish the reunion with Bofur, Oin, Fili, and Kili had been a proper scene and not just a quick cutaway. It would've been a great opportunity to catch them and the audience up on Thorin's condition and how he got to that state, as well as establish how The Company In General feels about it earlier into the movie.

Again, I know why they didn't... but even a hint that the Madness was taking the other Dwarves at least a little bit would've been nice. I truly feel that, by the time of The Ramparts, the party was at a point where at least 1 or 2 of them would've decided to go with Bilbo, and a hint that they're all slightly under the spell of the gold in the way Thorin is would've really made their decision to all 12 of them stay behind make more sense. Yes, Thorin is their king and their leader and their friend and Dwarves are known to be very loyal- but Bilbo has stood in as a leader, rescuer, and friend often enough that I think one or two of the party, in their own fully right minds, would've chosen to go with him, especially after witnessing such a horrific display from Thorin.

The pacing of the movie in general Needs Some Help, that can't go unsaid- but again, Those Damn Deadlines. The amount of palpable stress from the crew in the Appendices is genuinely stressful and heart-wrenching, and I blame the majority of my issues with this movie- and the other two- on Warner Bros being completely unreasonable with their time expectations. Especially since they pushed this 2-movie project into being 3 movies, like Fuck off, Warner Bros.

GOD I WISH MORE OF THE RING STUFF HAD CARRIED OVER FROM DESOLATION. Like again I get why it didn't, this movie kind of takes some of the focus off Bilbo and uses that extra attention on Thorin and Bard and Legolas, which I enjoy. But still, The Ring Moments in Desolation were so good, and the effect The Ring had on Bilbo in Desolation is not unlike the effect the gold has on Thorin- but Bilbo is better at fighting it. It would've been nice to see something done with that, especially as Thorin was falling to madness and Bilbo maybe recognized some of the signs from his own experiences like the one in Mirkwood. But also THE RING STUFF WAS SO COOOOOOLLLLLLLLL I WANT MORE OF ITTTTTTTTTTTTTT

[heartbeatan]

Grave - Book 2: Ribbon & Rope (Chapter 8)

Return to Chapter 7.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Grave Series.

Return to Yoongi Fanfictions.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 8

You two fucked your way through the night and into the sunrise - as well as into the double digits. Even though the heat was the excuse, there were times you felt like his appetite was putting yours to shame. Especially when you had finally fallen asleep only to wake less than thirty-minutes later to his fingers crawling over your shoulder.

Like him, however, you had no complaints.

Well… until about the 12-hour mark hit, and nothing mystic could stop you from needing a pillow.

You were curled tightly around one for warmth, since you couldn’t find the energy to pull the comforter over your back, and you couldn’t trust him to read curling your body around his as anything other than a sign to go again.

You felt him shuffle beside you, and the heat of his body warm your skin - which was welcome - but then you felt his finger begin to trace over the silvery mark on the back of your shoulder. He kissed it softly, the way he had the last two times he woke you.

“Don’t you ever sleep,” you groaned, only not in a way that implied you liked where he was going.

“I only sleep once a week.”

You whined. “Of course you do.”

“You okay if I run down to the store?”

“Please do. Take your time, then take a little more.”

You could hear him smile behind you. “Okay. I’ll run some errands and let you sleep. Text me if you need anything.”

“Mm-hm,” you mumbled as he crawled over you and out of bed. But he wasn’t quite ready to let you drift off back to dreamland. He bent over you, kissed you once more on the shoulder then gloated, “I warned you that you couldn’t handle me.”

“I fucking concede,” you growled. “You win, just let me sleep.”

⁂

You woke up a while later, horny as fuck, but you expected that from your prior heats.

Yoongi still hadn’t returned. You thought about texting him to get the hell back here and the hell back in you - but figured he would return soon regardless, and you could take a few well-needed human moments in the interim.

You looked around the room, noticing the purple vibrator, which Yoongi had whipped out four orgasms ago, plugged into an outlet next to the bed.

"Might as well kill two birds with one stone," you shrugged as you reached for it, then headed off towards the shower.

When you were scrubbed clean, and gave up on hoping that Yoongi would return and join you under the water, you pulled yourself back into his shirt and began searching his kitchen and fridge for something to eat.

His cupboards weren't bare, but they weren't exactly full either. He probably only had to eat once a week as well.

But, in it, you saw an opportunity.

You searched his apartment for your jeans, not quite remembering where they had been discarded or stored. Once you found them, somewhere over a chair, you jumped yourself into them, grabbed your wallet, then took the fire escape down to the street and popped into the convenience store.

You lazily searched the aisles, scavenging through the limited items until you settled upon pre-mixed pancake batter, orange juice and chocolate chips.

So far, the morning was going well. Unlike before, you were terrified to be on the street alone during the heat. This time, you had someone who had quite literally fucked you into a coma, so you felt fine wandering alone for a few minutes - even past the beefcake of a man who was eyeing you from the other aisle, or the couple near the freezers who seemed to be having a hot first post-hook-up rendezvous.

But, unfortunately, it was the cashier who broke you. It was something about the way his gaze knowingly praised you and the diverse array of hickies on your neck. He seemed to like how marked you were… he seemed almost challenged by it.

You liked how he looked at you. Or at least the heat did… well, you did a little bit too. You liked the idea that he might try to replace those marks with several of his own. Perhaps right here, in the back. Behind the freezers, against some utility shelves.

He seemed to pick up on how much you liked the idea… and then he seemed to pick up on something else.

“You’ve been hanging out with people you shouldn’t have, miss,” he said to you as he handed you your change. You looked up to him a bit confused. Did he… know?

You stared him back, trying to get a read on the situation, and then you noticed how the ring around his irises began to glow more and more in a bright, sunshine yellow, slowly creeping inward to reveal his true eyes.

He was a demon.

Shit, you thought to yourself. What kind of demon was he? Was he dangerous? Ancient? From this realm or another? Was he a good fucker?... Did he know how to control your mark?

“Bye,” you said hurriedly, flustered and a bit terrified of the idea. You needed out of there before the haze made you manic or before he had a chance to wield something over you.

You kept your head down as you turn the corner of the building and nearly ran the three stories to Yoongi’s back door.

You rushed inside, closing and locking the door behind you, then turned around determined to find your phone to text him right away, desperate for the security he would bring you.

But when you turned around, you shrieked and jumped backwards, your heart nearly launching itself out of your body as you found a stranger standing in the middle of Yoongi’s apartment.

"Who the fuck are you?!" you demanded, your eyes quickly scanning the kitchen for something you could use as a weapon.

The stranger, a woman, whose gaze seemed to be sifting through the array of trinkets and books that lined Yoongi’s walls, turned elegantly and unalarmedly around to look at you. Then you froze.

It was… her… The succubus. Yoongi’s succubus, that he had drawn and was in that book. The one you saw at the bar.

“You smell nice,” she purred through the knowing and seductive smile on her beautiful lips.

“I know you,” you said pointedly, trying your best to not be affected by her mere presence. The heat was enough of a beast to wrangle, but even when it wasn’t around to cloud your judgment, you remembered how alluring she had been back at the bar, even though back then you hadn’t actually been within five-feet of her. But now she was five-feet from you, and you were sure you could smell her, the way she could smell you. Her scent filled your nostrils with an intensity that made you want to plug your nose, and fuck, you might come just standing still if you didn’t control yourself.

“Is that so?” she smiled. Good God, the way she smiled. “I’m sorry to say I don’t know who you are, but I would love to take the time to get to know you.” A string of electricity misfired behind your navel. You wanted to launch yourself across the room at her and let her get to know you biblically.

You needed to get out of there… she was a succubus… you were in heat… there was no way you wouldn’t let her have her way with you. You eyed your phone on the counter, and thought about making a run for it and then escaping back down to the street.

“Don’t worry, darling,” the succubus drawled. “I’m not here for you. I’ll be gone soon.”

You wanted to tell her that it didn’t matter if she was here for hours or here for only minutes - you just needed to get away. There was something about her that made you want to confess that to her, and more… but you didn’t know her, or trust her.

“I can help, you know.”

You swallowed, trying to not get another whiff. “Help with what?”

“Your little appetite. You’re not supposed to have it. Actually, we can help each other out, I’m in need of a boost.”

You didn’t know if you liked the sound of that, but you were curious. “You can take my mark away?”

“No, I can not,” she stepped across the room towards you. More she sashayed. The way she walked was incredible too. Your gaze fell to her hips and the way they swished from side to side as she approached you. She really was just wired for sex and sexual tension. Your mind was beginning to ring the alarm that danger was approaching, but the heat was beckoning her to come to you. “But I can… let's say take the edge off.”

“I don’t know you,” you near whispered.

She stepped before you and into your space, and you felt only inches tall in her presence - but you wanted to be there. She raised her hand to your face, pinching your chin between her forefinger and thumb, tilting your lips to hers.

“Don’t worry, you’ll feel better,” her lips ghosted over yours, and you were sure you could taste her now. Your body began to shiver. It could feel her warmth radiating off of her, and it wanted to be pressed against it.

She leaned that final inch forward, and her lips met yours, and you kissed.

It was firm, unrushed. Sensual but chaste. You weren’t sure what kind of kiss it was - you wanted it to be more. You wanted tongue, and shared breaths, and heat and skin. You wanted your breasts to be mashed against her. You wanted those long, delicate, expertly painted fingers of hers to dip themselves inside you. Then you wanted her lipstick to not only be smeared across your lips but also smeared between your legs. But as the kiss progressed, you wanted less and less of that. You felt like you were becoming lighter, the way you did after Yoongi had blown his load inside you and the heat had what it wanted. You were becoming that. She was taking your mania away.

She pulled back, and you felt… better. Like yourself again.

“Hm,” she tilted her head, almost looking puzzled, like she had eaten something she didn’t expect to taste the way it did. You almost felt a bout of offense from her. Was there something wrong with how you kissed? She was a succubus for Christ’s sake, surely she’s kissed worst before.

“Feel better?” she asked, the confusion not quite leaving her features.

“Y.. yes…” you answered, just as equally as puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”

“No,” she shook her head, although it wasn’t convincing. “You just… have a taste of destiny to you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Usually a bit of both.”

“Well… what is it?”

“I don’t know.”

You heard the lock and handle of the front door, then heard it open as you presumed Yoongi had finally arrived home. He called your name, and you were relieved, like your heart could return to it’s regular pace now knowing he was here.

He stepped insight of the kitchen and immediately took notice of you and his little succubae ex standing precariously together.

He didn’t seem alarmed by the scene… just confused.

“What’s going on here?” he asked as he set a white plastic bag on the counter and rounded the peninsula to lean against it.

“I think she might have just sucked my soul out of my body,” you announced to him.

He snickered, and for once it was a relief. He wasn’t worried. “I told you they can’t do that, Y/N.”

“I just thought I’d help your companion out, Yoongi. Take a little bit of that energy off her hands,” she released her hold on your waist and strolled across to him.

“I don’t know if I wanna thank-you for that, I was quite enjoying myself.”

“Of course you were,” she stretched up and kissed him on the cheek, her hand rubbing his chest in a too familiar way for your jealousy to ignore. “But she’s human, Yoongi. She doesn’t need to be burdened with all that.”

He looked down at her, defiance in his eyes and smirk in hers. To be honest, you weren’t quite sure what it was you were seeing between them. They seemed like… friends? Old friends. Comrades. Or like… a formerly married couple who had an amicable divorce. There was history between them, but a history that even from where you stood had ended a long time ago and was reduced to nothing but respect. It was relieving… but the green eyed monster inside you still didn’t like it.

Not long ago you had been terrified of her - you still were - and yet within minutes she had reduced your panties to a pool. And now she was here, next to you in front of the person you wanted - and you couldn’t help but feel inferior next to her.

“You seem different,” he said to her, and all she could offer was a non-committal “hm” in response before she wandered back into the living area and began scanning his walls and shelves, occasionally stopping to admire his artwork.

Yoongi looked at you and mouthed “It’s okay,” then he reached his arm out to you, beckoning you to come to him. You did. He kissed you once when you reached him, then he wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled your back against his chest.

She was completely unbothered by his PDA. Perhaps less than bothered - obviously she wasn’t threatened by you, and you weren’t sure what to make of that.

“What can we do for you?” Yoongi eventually asked her. “We’re not one of your clients or something are we? It’s been a while since I’ve had a threesome.”

She chuckled, he smiled, and your vagina clenched. Was did he mean by client? And what the hell did that have to do with a threesome?

“I’m afraid not,” she said, somewhat regretfully. “I’m exclusive these days.”

You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen around you - he didn’t like that answer.

“What… what do you mean?” he asked.

“I met someone,” she looked sharply back at him, seemingly transmitting a message that only he could understand.

“But… how… are you dying?”

You could now hear the alarm in his voice, and suddenly you felt guilty for secretly wishing her dead for the past three minutes.

She sighed. “You know, it always pissed me off how you knew so much more about me than I did.”

“Tell me about it,” you chimed in.

She gave you a sideways smile and winked at you - and then your once disdain turned guilt suddenly turned into giddy from the small gesture of her attention. Damn these non-humans - it was such a fucking high and low rollercoaster being around them.

“I died this morning,” she looked down and played with a book on a credenza, avoiding either yours or his eyes.

After a pause, Yoongi prompted her again, “Are you gonna elaborate?” Irritation lined his voice. He was obviously upset.

“It’s a long story,” she sighed. “But… you know the Death with the ocean-coloured hair?”

“Taehyung,” he replied immediately.

She nodded and continued, “He brought me back from the in-between just a couple hours ago.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know yet,” she shrugged. “But so far I’m not complaining.”

“Did he send you here?”

“No. I’m here because I need something back from you. And as much as I would love to entertain the idea of a threesome with you, I only have a bit of time before I need to get back to him. I was really hoping you kept it all these years.”

“I did.”

She smiled, pleased at his answer, but there was also something painful behind it. You had so many questions, and whereas normally you would bulldoze through china shops to get answers, today it felt wrong. Whatever this was, it was personal… and none of your business.

Yoongi released you, and then wandered into the living area, dragging a chair with him to one of the nooks lined with shelves. He stood on the chair, reaching the very top shelf and digging through several items until he found what he was looking for. He returned with it - an old wooden box.

Plain. Simple. Nothing romantic or mythical about it. Just five walls and a lid with a latch. He handed it to her, and she took it, holding it in her hands cautiously as if there might be a bomb inside.

She set it on the peninsula, standing over it while you and Yoongi stood still on opposite sides of the counter, watching her as she looked down at it, taking stock of the many different emotions registering on her face.

He then reached up and squeezed her arm, then rubbed a few soothing circles over the back of her shoulder. “I can hold onto it longer if you’re not ready.”

She shook her head, and you watched as a tear streamed down her cheek before she wiped it quickly away.

“No,” she said, holding her voice level. “I don’t think I have much of a choice anymore. Did you go through it?”

He nodded. “You asked me too.”

“Yeah…” her voice drifted off and she recalled the memory.

“There’s nothing in there you can’t handle,” he said encouragingly. “I’d help you if I could but I’m a bit tied up at the moment.”

“It’s fine,” you heard yourself say. “If you want to stay for a bit, it’s fine.”

You couldn’t help but feel empathy for her. Whatever was in that box was surely something big, and she seemed to be alone. Another part was curious as hell as to what was in there. And the final part wasn’t quite willing to give up on the idea of a threesome.

“No. Thank-you,” she smiled, her melancholy subsiding and her sexual ambience returning. “I don’t need to take up anymore of your day. You two have fun.”

She picked the box back-up, tucking it carefully into her purse, then straightening herself to leave. Before she did, she leaned into Yoongi, who was hunched over the counter, and gave him a small peck on the lips, which he received. Once again, not particularly sexual in nature, but still not something you particularly cared for either.

“Goodbye, darling,” she nodded to you, then left, the heavy sound of the front door closing signaling you two were alone again.

“Well… that was weird," you broke the silence. "What was in that box?"

"Umm… I don’t know if it’s right I tell you."

“Why?”

“Because it’s private. It’s… stuff she wanted to hide from herself.”

"Do you care about her?”

“Of course I do, but if you’re implying in a romantic sense the answer is still ‘no.’ We just slept together.”

“Obviously, you did more than just sleep together.”

“How is that obvious?”

“You’re so… friendly with each other. She cares about you, you care about her.”

“And what about you and me, Y/N? Am I allowed to be nice to you after tomorrow?”

That stung. Yup… it stung big time to be compared to someone who he said meant nothing but sex to him. But, you really couldn’t blame him, you did walk right into a trap you set for yourself.

“You’re right,” you shrugged tightly, not trying too hard to hide how it hurt. “I did say I could be just like your wam-bam little friend.”

“You’re jealous?”

“Of course I’m jealous. I’m human. It’s something we do. No matter what our little ‘arrangement’ is, I don’t like knowing you’ve been with other creatures.”

“I’ll remind you that this whole time I’ve had to stare at that scar you have and remember exactly where it came from. I promise you, jealousy isn’t an exclusive-to-humans emotion.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but it didn’t stop your heart from fluttering or your cheeks from wanting to blush. You crossed your arms over your chest “So… you’re jealous.”

He rounded the counter and strode up to you, pulling you into him at the waist. “Yeah… I’m fucking jealous.”

“Good,” you taunted him. “Because I am too.”

“Good,” he agreed.

“And you didn’t need to kiss her in front of me.”

He smirked, then lifted a thumb to your mouth and brushed it over your lips. He then presented the pad of his thumb to you, showcasing the succubae’s lipstick that had been left behind on you. “Looks like you got more action than I did.”

“Of course I did, I’m hotter than you.”

He laughed, then kissed you once… or twice… before releasing you and sauntering over to the window and peering out it, presumably looking for her exiting his building.

You grabbed the bag you had picked up from the convenience store, and started rustling around the kitchen for supplies.

“Am I gonna be okay?” you paused midstep as you clutched a cast iron skillet in your hand. “Is my soul okay?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “She’s harmless, I swear.”

“She didn’t seem to like kissing me.”

“That’s not possible,” he left the window and joined you in the kitchen. Or at least he sat on the counter while you worked around him. “Even if you were a terrible kisser - which you’re not,” he emphasized when he saw your face drop in offense, “she’d love it. It’s her nature.”

“Well… she kind of…” you scrunched your nose as you recalled the memory. “... recoiled from me.”

He looked back at you, a puzzled look on his face. “Did she say anything?”

“Said that I tasted of destiny or something, and that it was probably a good and a bad thing.”

“Okay…” he gave you a tilted look, the puzzlement still clearly with him. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me.”

He thought in silence for a moment, and you went to work pouring out the batter into a bowl.

“I mean…” he began slowly, still somewhat lost in thought, “succubae have sort of an extra sensory thing. Like they can see your sexual fantasies when they’re near you. When they kiss you they can… see into your soul. Maybe she saw something.”

“Have you heard of that before?”

“No,” he stated reluctantly.

“Should I be worried?”

“Did she seem worried?”

“No… just… confused?”

“Then don’t you worry.”

“How can you tell me not to worry? It’s not you she’s saying that about.”

“Y/N, firstly, that shit is unpredictable to begin with because destiny changes constantly. Secondly, her species isn’t exactly attuned to fortune telling to begin with. It’s like taking medical advice from an actor who plays a doctor on TV.”

“Okay, message received - I won’t worry about it then.”

“Good. Now what are you doing to my kitchen?” he said as he eyed the growing mess on the counter beside him.

“I’m making us pancakes and a thank-you.”

“A thank-you for what?”

“Um,” you looked up at him and shrugged, “multiple orgasms?”

“I get pancakes in exchange for orgasm?”

“Well, I can make you a pancake per orgasm if you’d like, but I might need to go buy more batter, and I can’t promise I won’t fuck the cashier before I come back. Oh, and, by the way, did you know your cashier is a demon?”

“Yes, I knew that, and I’ll fuck you before you go so you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, I never said it was the heat that wanted to jump his bones, Yoongi.”

He titled his chin and dug his tongue into his cheek. “Well who's the tramp now?”

“Aww, are you jealous?” you patronized him.

“Are you trying to make me jealous?”

“Only if it’s working,” you smirked. “Is he dangerous?”

“No.”

“Well, he seemed to smell my whole situation,” your hand motioned a circle in front of your waist.

“I could smell you from the street, Y/N, every demon in the neighborhood knows..”

You looked horrified up at him, “Am I in trouble here? Are they gonna come for me?”

“No. There’s like at least 10 wolves in this neighborhood alone going through their heats right now. You’re not that special.”

“Psh,” you gave a sarcastic wave of your head, “don’t mince your words to protect my feelings, dude. Now get off the counter, you’re in my way.”

He chuckled, jumping off the counter, he kissed the top of your head, then rounded the peninsula again to take a seat, prop his chin in his hand and watch you work.

“Is blueberry pancakes all you ever eat?” he spoke after a few moments of comfortable silence.

“No. Today I’m exacting chocolate chip pancakes,” you held up the pack of chips you for him to see. He stuck out his palm to you and you pour a few into his hand to eat. You did the same before eyeing out the rest into the mixture. “How often do you eat, by the way?”

“Whenever I want.”

“Okay but when will you die of starvation?”

“Never.”

“Well, that’s annoying.” You then nodded to the white bag on the counter that he brought it. “What did you get?”

His lips twisted into an amused and perhaps embarrassed half grin, then he pulled a pack of blueberries and a box of pre-mixed pancake batter from the bag.

⁂

Yoongi had pulled out a serving platter for you to share your pancakes on like you two did at the diner. To be honest you felt enormous guilt at using it since it looked like it was a hand painted one of a kind ceramic piece that belonged in some museum in some emperor's display.

Luckily, whatever magic the succubae had committed seemed to work. The heat wasn’t gone, but it was - more manageable. And since now you were able to focus on more than just how to get your next climax, your body was screaming that it was famished for nutrients and energy. Sitting next to him on some stools at the counter, together you mowed down every morsel of fluffy syrup covered heaven you had made.

When the plate was cleared, you shamelessly went about licking your fingers clean of the melted chocolate chips and sticky syrup that had managed to creep its way up your fork, while Yoongi put away the dishes… dish… away.

“Can you pay me a wet paper towel or something,” you said as you noticed more of the batter and syrup and chips had for their way further up your arms. God, you were an animal.

He grabbed one for you, lightly dampening it under the sink and handing it to you. But before you could pull away, he snatch a hold of your wrist and snatched your attention with it.

He pulled your index finger into his mouth, and you felt his hot tongue swirl around your digits as it licked clean some sugary goodness you had missed. Your heart thumped, and your nethers clenched. He pulled it slowly from his mouth, then did the same to the next finger, only this time you didn’t think there was any chocolate to clean off.

He held your hand in both of his as he looked up at you with a hint of salacity in his eyes.

“How do you feel about trying things my way today?”

You held your breath and tilted your head as you tried to understand his meaning.

“You mean like… bondage and stuff?”

“Yeah.”

You pretended to think for a moment, but the answer was already bursting from within you. “Yes. I do.”

He mouth pulled into a smirk, “Good.” Then he kissed your hand once and left you to clean yourself up while he made his way to the cupboard.

Go to Chapter 9.

[modernmonkeymind]

We all want to be entertained, distracted from our lives. There's nothing wrong with a Netflix or YouTube binge, but perhaps its not so great that its become the default for us, or at least for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some TV, but watching the crew of the Discovery getting themselves into trouble, or the Click (wholesome though he is) making jokes about goofy memes doesn’t actually accomplish anything, and it takes time that could be used in more fulfilling ways.

Social media can be a great resource, and a serious distraction. I decided to back away from social media almost entirely once I realized I was letting people I didn't know piss me off, especially when I wasn't going to change their mind (hello Dunning-Krueger, didn't see you over there).

To challenge myself and get my head on straight, I'm embracing Cal Newport's Digital Detox for March, eliminating social media and all streaming video. I'm letting myself have access to a limited number of sites, primarily 84000, Suttacentral, and the Storygraph. I'm also planning to post to Mastadon twice a day (a poem and 3 good things), and Tumblr. I'm not restricting podcasts, audio books or music. I'll be using Basecamp, Meetup, and Zoom for personal development and to keep commitments I've made. I'm planning to revert my phone to something akin to what Steve Jobs originally intended, a sort of smart dumb phone that can make calls, texts, access messaging apps, maps, the app for my smart scale, One Bus Away, Streaks, audio, YNAB & my bank, and thats about it. In other words I'm making my phone a tool again. The question of course, becomes what to do without access to technological pacifiers. The answer really is most anything that doesn’t require a computer or smartphone, but some of my favorites these days include:

Meditation: I've been practicing based on the teachings of the Nalandabodhi, and Shambhala lineages recently and plan to meditate for seven minutes in the morning and/or evening, in addition to short sessions sporadically throughout the day. I'll also be single tasking for the most part, using activities like reading, walking, reading/composing poetry, and painting, as meditative practices.

Yoga: I got into yoga asana because I was stiff and not very grounded, and I decided to train to teach for similar reasons, since yoga is so pigeon holed as something only bendy acrobats can do. I've not gotten on the mat in a few years at this point, but want to get back to it, inspired by my teacher starting to teach again earlier this week after an extended health crisis. I'm planning to just do a couple minutes to start, probably just Sun Salutations/playing around.

Walk: A great form of exercise most anyone can do, and it doesn’t have to cost a thing as long as you have a decent pair of shoes and appropriate clothes for the weather. I've been taking daily walks more regularly recently, but most of the time this is a bookstore circuit that leads to lots of temptation. Going forward I'm planning to walk more in nature and go to libraries instead. I'm setting a 12k goal in Streaks, and shooting for 20k. I've already been hitting in this range most days which has helped with some serious weight loss.

Read: I’ve always got a couple books going. At the moment the list includes a commentary on the 37 Practices of a Bodhisattva, and Donut Economics by Kate Raworth. Books are magical things. You can learn most anything you might be interested in (I highly recommend Raworth's book), you can learn about another person’s experience of life in their own words (Montaigne basically invented the personal blog before the internet or computers were a thing when he thought up the essay format). You can also exercise your imagination and relax with a good novel (the human imagination has one solid advantage over TV & movies in that it isn’t restricted by a budget!) The plan is to dial back and do my best to only read one or two books at a time instead of the four or five I've usually got going. I'm also planning to read more poetry after my interest was reignited by Sister Jina's wonderful collection, which leads to the next item.

Write: Mostly when I say write I'm thinking of journaling and composing poetry by hand. I'm shooting for spending some time every day writing, but not worrying about getting a polished poem at the end. Just fifteen minutes of concentrated work.

Paint: I've taken a couple classes on watercolor and messed around a bit with acrylics. I'd like to spend some time each day painting, actually focused on having something to show for it each time, though that could be childish goofing around. I'd like to take a shot at using acrylics to recreate ukiyoe, get inspired by Zen/Chan watercolors, and take a shot at Sumie, though I definitely want to take a class in the latter at some point sooner than later!

PLAYING WITH MY CAT: Do I need to explain?

NOTHING: Seriously, we've become so obsessed with "productivity" and "getting things done" that as a culture its as if we've forgotten what it is to be alive as a human being. I'm going to try to do this more often, whether standing in line, walking somewhere, or just having nothing in particular to do.

I'm not expecting March to be easy, but thats kind of the point. I'm getting rid of some things I enjoy , but the fact that something isn't easy just means its more worth doing. I'll be journaling about it, and plan to post here once a week.