#i opened my window a bit but its not helping at all whatsoever

[yourknightinshiningplastic]

can it please cool down in here I'm wearing a sports bra that used to be too stretched to fit and it fits and I'm getting a little dysphoric rn

[toastsnaffler]

SUDDENLY STARTED RAINING SO HARD WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK

[sserpente]

A/N: Billy Hargrove and a mistletoe. There was no way I wasn’t going to write this.

Words: 1014 Warnings: mentions of bullying

The way to the kitchen was blocked. Well, not really. But there was someone leaning against the threshold that you, under all possible circumstances, whatsoever, were keen to avoid.

All you wanted was some more mulled wine. You’d need an awful lot more in order to get drunk on the hot beverage but you were determined and you were thirsty.

So get it together. High school is over! Mentally slapping yourself, you shook your head and fought yourself a way through the partying crowd in the hallway. Push past, don’t look him in the eye, ignore him, pretend you didn’t see him… it should have been easy. With your heart in your mouth, you turned sideways to fit through the door—a significantly hard task when two people were casually conversing right in its middle—until you were stopped by a strong arm stopping you from entering the kitchen like a bloody human barrier.

“Whoops.”

The nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach only intensified when he spoke up. He was taller than you, of course, looking down at you with an amused expression on his face. His outfit… not only was it unsuitable for the current weather conditions but also direly inappropriate for a Christmas party. And who wore a leather jacket without a shirt on anyway? And why did he have to be so shredded? You knew he worked out but Jesus H. Christ… up close, that six-pack looked even more defined. Why was it always the arseholes who were this attractive? Why couldn’t it be the nice guy next door, the one who took your mail in when you weren’t home?

No, it had to be Billy fucking Hargrove, your own personal high school bully who’d tried to make your life a living hell. Well… more or less. In fact, you were pretty certain he was the very reason you were still single. If Billy Hargrove told you not to date a girl… you didn’t. That’s just how Hawkins worked since the fucker moved here from sunny California.

“Let me through, Billy.”

“You didn’t follow the rules.”

You rolled your eyes. You had no idea what he was on about but you were already getting annoyed. Should have climbed through the bloody window instead.

“Seriously, all I want is some mulled wine. I won’t let my festive mood be spoiled today, least of all by my school bully.”

“Are you kidding me?” He added your name at the end, making you swallow. He never used your name. It’d only ever been nicknames—teasing nicknames that’d had you seethe. “I wasn’t bullying you.”

“Of course not. What else would you call it then, huh?”

“What, are you that daft? I wanted to get with you so bad the whole fucking school knew.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Oh yeah. You embarrassed me quite a bit, doll. You were the only girl at school who resisted my charms.”

“Charms is a strong word.” You didn’t believe him. Not a word. Or did you? You bit your lower lip. You’d seen him bully others. He’d gotten into physical fights more often than you could count. He’d never… insulted you either, just… teased you relentlessly? The closest you’d come to a physical attack had been when he’d knocked your books from your hands on Halloween. Come to think of it, he’d said the exact same word he’d said to you just now back then when—

“Whoops.” Billy’s shit-eating grin grew wider when you tried to slip past him again. Without any effort whatsoever, his arm came up to block your way yet again no matter how hard you pushed against him.

“Whatever. Should have treated me nicer then… if that was true.” But part of you couldn’t help but wonder… if it was. You thrust forward yet again, eager to escape the situation.

“A-ah. I’m afraid you’re still gonna have to follow the rules, doll.”

“What rules?” you spat, refraining from rolling your eyes at him. Billy smirked with his mouth slightly open, his gaze travelling up above your head. A fucking mistletoe. Of course.

“After all, it’s Christmas.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?” He grinned. “Are you afraid it could be…”—he leaned in closer, lowering his voice—“…good?”

“I have absolutely no desire—and I mean no desire—to kiss you.” And that was a fucking lie. You’d wondered often enough if he really was as good as the girls whispering about his many talents in the bedroom said he was.

He didn’t listen to you anyway because before you could turn away and flee, his lips were on yours. It wasn’t just a quick peck. Hell, you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to. Billy wrapped his arms around you in an instant, his palms resting on your hips dangerously close to your bum, keeping you close. Much to your dismay… your eyes fell shut. The sucker knew what he was doing—and he made it so easy for you to kiss him back.

It was a combination of the cheering that got loud around you with a start and his tongue that teasingly slid against your bottom lip that made you break the kiss before it could escalate.

“Looks like she wasn’t immune to your charms, after all, Hargrove!”

You raised an eyebrow, bending back to create some distance between you. “You’re gonna have to do an awful lot more than kiss me underneath the mistletoe if you want to convince me.”

Billy grinned. “Shall we say eight, then? Tomorrow? There’s a nice restaurant just outside of Hawkins I’m sure you’ll love.”

You considered it for a moment. What could possibly go wrong? A, this could be a terrible prank. B, he could kidnap you and chop you to pieces in the woods, or C… he meant it. You sighed.

“Fine. Don’t make me regret this.”

“That’s what I’m talking about, baby. Wear something pretty. I’ll come pick you up.”

“Uh-huh.” You pushed past him again and this time, he let you through. Yeah. You definitely needed more mulled wine after this.

[sizzlerseth]

Shopping

Summary: Trying on some clothes! With your favorite ler, what could go wrong?

You stare outside the window with your fist on your chin. The window is slightly warm, but it doesn't burn you.

"How long has it been? Two days?" I said, my hands on the wheel.

I was driving you to the mall. You were angry at me because I had forgotten to do the dishes two days ago.

"But you won't apologize." You glanced to the driver's seat, looking for my reaction. I had only opened my mouth, but closed it again.

"I'm sorry." I said, pretty sincerely, but not sincere enough to get forgiveness just yet.

"Maybe I can help you with something, then would we be even?" I looked over as much as I could without creating a big danger.

You finally turned over to face me, but not making eye contact. "Yeah I guess. I could use it, maybe."

"M-kay, so what should I do?" I made a right turn at a light.

The black exterior of the car was bad for the summer, making it a bit hot. I turned on the air conditioner, and you positioned your fans toward you.

"It's getting hot these days, so I was thinking of getting some cooler shirts." You leaned back in your seat.

"Sure!" The car slowed as we reached our destination.

After parking both of us exited the car, walking the short walk in-between the parking lot and the large shop.

The shop was a beige color, and the bricks were a bit rocky seeming. The super-store expanded the length of the parking lot, and was one story tall. There were 3 different entrances, and we walked toward the center one. The glass was slightly blue, and it reflected the puffy clouds in the sky.

As we entered the large market, there was a small beep. I grabbed your hand and we walked through the long aisles to the clothing section at the back. You had a tiny flinch, but you didn't let go.

I squeezed your hand as we stepped between stands of tank tops and shirts, grabbing one or two every once in a while. We stopped suddenly, nearing the dressing room.

"Ok wait here," You said gesturing towards a bench beside the red curtains of the dressing room.

I sat down, crossing my arms slightly impatiently, but you were quick at changing and came out in a navy blue crop top.

"Wow, niceeee" I walked in circles around you. "You look really good in-"

Your brain blocked out the rest, because something heavenly and hellish at the same time touches your uncovered armpit, and you can't even flinch before you whirl around, grabbing my hand, but it's too late. My other hand has already made its target, and softly falls to your tummy.

The little scribbles as if I'm a kid drawing with Crayola's are forcing your throat to close up as you desperately try to stop the ripples of little giggles and snorts.

"StoP, STOHOJAHAHP RIGHIITAH NOWWOWOW" As you open your mouth to speak, hell breaks out and you can no longer hold it back.

Each of your nerves cry for attention but they also scream in joy and terror as I make contact with your upper thighs. You almost SHRIEK in joy as I roughly dig into your muscles, like a massage, but in no way relaxing.

"Aw, stop trying to grab my hands, I know you love this, so stop trying to take this away from yourself." You had thought you had gotten away from my teases this time, but now you were blushing and flailing all over. You would've thought that people would be staring by now, but the store was surprisingly empty.

"EEK, GUHSHA" You rolled over, protecting your overworked tummy, but suddenly, your legs were completely immobilized as I locked my thighs around yours and rocketed onto your sides.

The tingling was so bad that your eyes were locked closed at this point, and you thought you wouldn't even have enough time to try on the other clothes.

You wriggled, not whatsoever in control of your body.

I had stopped directly tickling you, but the ghost tickles kept you rolling for a whole minute. "STOHHOHOP, STOP STOP-" You gasped for breath, the moment your body finally caught up to the fact that I hadn't touched you in multiple minutes.

You gave me a punch as you ran back into the changing room to avoid any more public embarrassment. Not that anyone had seen you. Actually, no one was even around to hear you... Actually, maybe it wasn't so bad...

You tried a few more shirts on, extremely careful to make sure all your weak points were covered, avoiding any tank tops or crop tops.

You could tell I was a bit disappointed, but what were you to care. He had tickled you. IN PUBLIC TOO! He deserved this. After the on edge dressing, we went to the cashier and started ringing up a few shirts.

Suddenly, I spotted a navy blue crop top. You could tell I had noticed it because I gave you a look of total slyness that you wished you could tear right off of my face.

You ran to the car, avoiding any chance of torture, but in the car, you were forced to sit only a foot away, and you knew what you were gonna get.

"TICKLE, TICKLE, TICKLE" I softly scratch at your specifically covered stomach, lifting your arms, somehow fast enough you can't even wriggle.

You jump backward trying to get away, but the door stops you from moving. Almost as if you have your seat belt, you couldn't move at all, enhancing every little nerve activation. You silently screamed.

"Aw, come on. I knowwwww you love it, why did you get the shirt if not?" I grinned. "Can't you just tell it to me, 'I want you to destroy me with tickles?'"

'OH MY GOSH IF HE DOESN'T SHUT UP RIGHT NOWWOWOW I'LL-HAHAHAHH' You think, completely confused how you were even laughing in your mind?

Suddenly you feel your shoes slide off, and you're allowed a moment of panic before little waves of dots and dashes rush into the sensitive skin on the bottom of your feet. You stop yelling to yelp and you kick as hard as you can, but the hands just fall onto your tummy.

"Maybe I shouldn't have asked you to speak- Now just tell me, look into my eyes and give me a big laugh, and I'll know you lovvveeee it~"

Surely your face is as red as a literal fire, and you're sure it's as hot as one. Every single nerve is burning in desire of tickles and desire that the tickles will stop, relieving you of this torture.

"Aww, your screaming turned into your adorable laughter, just like I asked. You would ask for this everyday if you could get the courage, wouldn't you my tickle bug."

You have NO idea how I can just say tickle, and you feel like the surface of the sun. You are melted and no longer even have the energy to wriggle, just sitting on your seat. You think that it's ended, but little tingles remain, as if your body doesn't accept that it's ended. You suddenly sway, the car starting to move, but you can't even buckle yourself.

You close your eyes, giggling as little ghost tingles take you over.

[buckymorelikefuckme]

spice up your life

jake jensen x fem reader

words: 1k

warnings: none i don't think?? maybe a tiny bit of secondhand embarrassment. otherwise this is just fluff! but let me know if there's something i should tag pls.

a/n: i've had a beloved girl group stuck in my head all morning and this was my outlet for that. sorry not sorry for yet another jakey story. that's my baby and i love him. no proofreading whatsoever, just vibes!! any and all mistakes are mine, feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated ♡ xoxo

On this blessed weekend morning (afternoon, actually, but that’s not important) you’ve just finished your shower. You’re dressed in a tiny tank-top and a matching pair of panties, your hair wrapped in a towel while you sit on the bench at the end of your bed and rub lotion into your freshly shaved legs. The Spice Girls are blasting through your bluetooth speaker and you’re happily singing along without a care in the world.

“Say you can handle my love, are you for real?” you croon, wiggling in place of dancing until you’re done with the lotion. “I won’t be hasty,” you wail louder, “I’ll give you a try. If you really bug me then I'll say goodbye.”

You stand with a bounce, alerting the room at large that you’ll tell them what you want, what you really, really want. As you put away your lotion, you shimmy your chest and shake your hips. You even stop for an extended dance break.

“Slam your body down, and zig-a-zig ah! If you wanna be my lover,” you finish with a flourish, giggling.

The next song starts playing and you let out a gasp of delight, reaching for your hairbrush and using it as a microphone. You set yourself up in front of your mirror, using yourself as a makeshift audience and doing what you can remember from the choreography.

“Slam it to the left, if you're havin’ a good time! Shake it to the right, if ya know that you feel fine!”

You have a split second of thinking that you should probably calm down, since you just showered, and working up a sweat because you can’t help yourself from putting on a one-woman show would be very annoying. But… it’s the Spice Girls. It’s next to impossible to not dance and sing along. At some point, your now damp hair has fallen out of the towel, and instead of using your brush for its intended purpose, you continue singing into it. When you start getting almost too warm, you make yourself stop flailing around and actually brush your hair.

You pull it up into a messy bun on top of your head when you’re done and skip out of your room to the kitchen, taking your speaker with you. You’re feeling kinda hungry, so you go about fixing up a sandwich for yourself, still warbling away with whatever song that plays.

Since it’s early spring, the weather is still relatively cool out, so you’ve got your windows open to let in the fresh air and natural light. It never crossed your mind that perhaps your audience of one was actually an audience of two. However, when you’re in the middle of singing through a mouthful of your sandwich, you just so happen to glance out the window in your living room.

“All that joy can bring, this I swear—“ You freeze, eyes growing wide, cheeks bulging with food, and heat crawling up your neck when you lock eyes with the tenant across the courtyard of your apartment complex.

It’s just your luck it turns out to be the new guy—the cute, nerdy, beefy one. He’s equally wide-eyed behind his glasses, mouth open a little in surprise. You squeak and dart out of his line of vision, mortification consuming you as you lean against the wall and groan. What a fucking first impression to make. Prancing around in next to nothing and stuffing your face like a goddamn squirrel. Jesus.

Your music is still blaring, though, and you've kind of lost your groove, so you hastily scamper back across the kitchen to jam your thumb on the button to lower the volume. Even with the song continuing to play, it feels much too quiet now. You try to finish your sandwich and act normal and not like you were just caught parading around in your underwear. Very pointedly, you do not look out the window again. If you can't see him, then he can't see you. Seems logical.

Except… You sigh dreamily. Oh, man, he's so cute, and he looked even cuter with that dumb look on his face. You try to fight it for as long as you can (which is, to your shame, not long at all) but your gaze drifts back over to the apartment across the courtyard. You're not sure if it's excitement or dread that swirls in your stomach when you see he's still standing there. He waves, sending you a lopsided smile, and you find it impossible to prevent yourself from smiling back.

“Nice moves,” he calls out of his own open window.

“Thanks, I try my best,” you reply with a bashful laugh as you approach the windowsill.

“We should tango together sometime,” he offers, immediately flushing after.

You see his mouth move as he whispers tango? under his breath, an incredulous expression on his face as he shakes his head. You cover your growing grin with your hand.

He scratches at his jaw and shrugs. “Or, you know… any kind of dancing.”

“I just do whatever comes naturally,” you flirt, tilting your head coyly.

“Right, yeah, makes sense,” he agrees with a lot of nodding.

Good grief.

“If you came over,” you start, raising your eyebrows significantly, “I could show you.”

It looks like he short circuits for a second, standing perfectly still as he processes what you just said. He suddenly jerks back to life and points a finger at his chest.

“Jake.”

You laugh and mimic the gesture, saying your name in return. Jake grins as he repeats it, soft and pleased, like he's trying it out on his tongue.

“So, I’ll just…” He trails off and waves in the direction of your apartment with a question in his eyes.

You tell him your unit number, then bite your lip to tamp down on your smile. “See you soon, big guy.”

Jake giggles, high and nervous, before clearing his throat. “Yeah, see you soon,” he replies in a gruff tone.

You cover your mouth again to stifle your own giggles, wiggling your fingers in a wave. He starts backing away from his window, his shoulder knocking into the doorway because he isn't paying attention to where he's walking. With a salute that he appears to regret instantly, he hurriedly leaves, the slam of his door echoing across the courtyard.

Okay, so, maybe your day took a turn, and you might have to shower again anyway, but it's so worth it.

[autumnbaguette]

Tokyo, 12.22 am.

"Mam, you haven't sleep in two days now. You seems restless since we arrived in Tokyo."

You look at your assistant, well groomed middle aged man, crisp black suit, the only person trusted by the elder to 'accompany' you while being stationed overseas.

"Is that so? Well, I guess i will take a rest for a bit then. The reports can wait yes?". You stand up and walk out from your office. Your assistant follow right away.

Here you are. In the living room that have this big window looking out the Tokyo city skyline. The shimmering lights of the city under, pretty yet somehow so distant and lonely, reminding you of someone you used to know.

"I'll sleep for a few hours and continue with the reports. You can leave your post and take a rest too."

"Thank you Mam. But please take this." He hand you several pills. "You can't sleep without these. I will report to the elders that you take the medicine regurlary."

A bitter pang hit your chest. Damn those elders. Whose fault is that anyway. You take the pills and swallow it.

"Thank you, you are dismissed."

With that, your assistant leave the penthouse. It is quiet now. Eeriely quiet. So you went to the bedroom, walking towards the closet. Changing your clothes into a white shirt thats too big for you. It looks a bit worn out but it will do. You lay on the bed, not even bother to open the bed cover. Again, those night skyline caught your attention. You can't help but wondering Where is he now?

As you about to close your eyes, you sense a presence. A familiar one and you know exactly who it is.

"Yami yori idete yami yori kuroku, sono kegare o misogiharae." You chant the barrier without even bother to open your eyes.

"I see that you're still wearing my shirt as pajamas. Old habit die hard really."

That voice, that damn voice. Sounds so laid back as if nothing bad ever happens. The last time you see him was after the confrontation in shibuya. He doesn't even say good bye, or sorry at least. The fact that everything went downhill afterwards, your relationship with Gojo getting colder and distant as the time passed by. It is a well known fact that You and Gojo somehow blame each other for the downfall of Geto Suguru.

"What do you want, Suguru?" You asked him, again doesn't even bother to open your eyes. Is it the fact that you are so sleepy because of the pills or the fact that you can't trust yourself about all the things that you gonna do to him if you open your eyes. Kill him? Maybe not. But begging him one last time to go back to you seems much more reasonable now.

The bed dipped and he sat beside you. Suguru study your face. Eyes closed, your lashes is a bit damp. Darker eyebags. And he notice your hair. Its different colour now. As pretty as always he thought. His finger caress your cheek, you fluttered your eyes open and meet with his dull grey eyes.

None of you or Suguru said anything. As if both of you really understand each other. Or maybe you just want to kill the time. Maybe if you stay silent without asking any question, he will stay longer.

"Shall I kill the elders? They overworked you a lot." His hand wander to your hair, stroking it gently. You can't help but smile and chuckle a little bit. "That would be great, but no Suguru."

"Or maybe you can just quit? Buy a land in rural area, raise some chickens and ducks. Plants lots of flowers and fruit trees.  Remember that? Have a simple life."

It is strange that after what happened, after all these years, here you are with Suguru, having a small talk like some kind of married couple do at the end of their day. No hatred, no baggage whatsoever.

Indeed you want it, a simple life with him.

Tracing his face with your finger. Almost no differences since the last time you saw him. A little bit freckles here and there. Those small lines at the end of his eyes. No eyebags though. His hair is still the same, the earings, his smile.  

"Im sorry." You said. "I should've known." This time your finger cares his cheek, "Can you just go back? I will do my best explaining everything to the elders, to Satoru. Im sure he will listen, you are still his bestfriend afte-."

"No." Suguru cut you off. His tone is cold, distant.

"Nothing will ever change my ideology, my plan and my future. I love you, i still do. But it doesnt put you at the top of my list. You should be aware of it by now."

Indeed, this is Suguru. The real one. Everyone sees him as the emphathetic, the calm and the good ones compare to Satoru. Yet, this side of him never really caught their eyes. How determine he is once he set his goal, nothing gonna stop him. Not even you, not even his family, not even his bestfriend Gojo Satoru.

It would be a lie to say his words doesn't hurt you. It hurt a lot, you want to cry. Screaming at him but here you are, looking at him. Still caressing his face gently, afraid that if you do it harder He's gonna fall apart like a fine china. Crumbling into pieces.

So, it's okay.

It's gonna be okay.

"I know, but i still wanna take my chances." you said while smilling, trying hard to stay awake since the pills starting to get you sleepier than before.

He doesn't say anything. Suguru watch your face as the sleep starts to take over. His hands keep stroking your cheeks gently. To be honest, he kinda expect you to get hostile with him. Maybe curse him a little bit when he appear, or maybe you will cast a curse spell to hurt him. But you did none of it, somehow he feels relieve but sad at the same time.

Your breathing becomes steady, thats a cue for Suguru to take his leave. One final look at you, "I'm sorry. I promised to make you the happiest yet somehow I always ended up hurting you the most."

He kiss your forehead, correcting your sleep position and pull the blanket over you. Still adoring your face for one last time, "Good night my love. Until we meet again."

[nanamikentoseyebags]

in your sacred air i am full of light

it seemed that the long awaited dawn, with its bright colors and warm rays that peeked through your window, marked your defeat every morning.

pairing: suguru geto x gn!reader

content: the reader has trouble sleeping, geto returns just in time to help; a bit of angst, hurt-ish/comfort, fluff

a/n: wrote it for my precious friend @shamelessperfectionhideout! the title is from tamino's song - persephone, hope you enjoy 💛

It was long past midnight when the eerie shadows flooded the entire space, merging into a frightening inky-black mass, lurking in every corner of the bedroom. You thought you could hear those weightless, almost ghostly silhouettes transforming, distorting and turning into the very monsters you fought every night – your own thoughts. You were almost certain that beneath the bed where your frail figure now lay was their lair, the place where they waited for the darkness to come, the place from which their long, bony hands reached for you, the place they wanted to drag you down with them without the possibility of returning. You could swear you felt their icy touch and their stinking breath tickling your face. With each of your anxious breaths, you heard them winced, crawling right under your skin, clawing at your flesh, forcing you into the endlessly dark abyss of your fears.

 It was like that almost every night. You barely slept a wink, tossing and turning, wrapping yourself deeper and deeper into the blanket, hoping that this thin material could be your lifeline for a little while. Attempting not to concentrate on the surrounding silence, you tried to immerse yourself in the music, making it unbearably loud to drown out the sound of their soon approaching footsteps. None of this worked. So you spent whole nights fighting a battle you had no chance of winning. And it seemed that the coming dawn, with its bright colors and warm rays that first peeked through your window every morning, marked your defeat, bringing no relief whatsoever.

 And so you lay there, under the warm, soft blanket that was supposed to bring comfort, not feeling the least bit of it. With your hands shaking and your heart thudding against your ribcage, unarmed, you were losing another fight, once again finding yourself one-on-one with an enemy too strong for you, who had an arsenal of weapons shooting to kill. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the blood run cold in your veins from the images your nemesis – your subconscious – was painting for you. You pressed yourself harder into the pillow, fingers clutching the sheet so tightly that your knuckles turned white, the traitorous trickles of tears streaming down your cheeks, leaving an unpleasant tingle in their wake, while trying to wash away this dreading apparition rather than being the sign of your weakness.

Overwhelmed by the deafening white noise that rang in your ears with an unfathomable force, you didn't notice the bedroom door crack open, letting a small ray of light inside. Finally back from yet another mission, Suguru knew he would find you in such a state. Poking his head through the small opening, he listened, somewhere in the back of his mind harboring vague hopes that you had managed to fall asleep without waiting for him. His heart felt as if it had shattered, jumping off a cliff when your quiet sobs reached his ears. Carefully, swinging the door open a little wider so as not to startle you, he made his way towards the bed. With each step he took, more and more of the lanterns' rays filled the room, racing in from the hallway, they did battle with the darkness, dissolving it in their hot embrace. The bravest of them threw themselves under the bed, defeating in hand-to-hand combat all the monsters you feared, driving them out of their lair and protecting your peace.

The bed sagged slightly beneath you as Suguru lay down gently beside, his arm immediately enveloping your smaller figure, pulling gently against him. Yet the lump shaping in your throat felt like someone's gaunt hand on your neck, slowly but surely tightening its grip, making you choke on your sobs. Icy waves of fear swept over you from your feet, slamming over your head, leaving you breathless. And when you realized someone's strong arm found its place around your waist, you shuddered in terror, but not a sound escaped your lips except for the heavy, labored breathing that cut through the silence of the bedroom.

"Shhhh," he whispered into your hair, "it's me, I'm back, I'm right beside you," small reassuring kiss on your shoulder, his fingers snaking under the fabric of your t-shirt, beginning to trace whimsical patterns on your skin. No subtext, nothing intimate, just soothing movements to help you even out your breathing. You felt his raven-wing colored hair tickle the back your neck, a relieved exhale came out of your lips, your small hand instinctively covering his large palm. With your back pressed close to his broad chest and the pleasant warmth emanating from his body, you finally began to feel yourself returning from the frightening realm of dark thoughts to the pleasant reality of his luminous presence.

You allowed yourself to open your eyes, turning gently to face him and exposing your tired, weeping eyes, "you're back," you whispered softly, your sweet voice like music to his ears, your hot breath touching his neck, as he nodded, smiling lovingly, his thumb gently wiping away the remnants of your tears, tucking the loose strands behind your ear, soft lips leaving countless kisses on your blushing cheeks. You wrapped your arms around his torso, legs tangling together at the same second, just to keep as little distance between you as possible. His nose found its place in your hair. The floral scent of your shampoo filling his nostrils, smelling like home to his shelter-seeking soul. You nuzzle into his neck, a bit of sandalwood and the subtle scent of cigarettes, the smell of home for your shelter-seeking soul.

Your eyes flickered around the room, noticing that the thick darkness was gone, replaced by sparkling rays of light bouncing joyfully off the mirrored surfaces. You saw the table lamp, left on by the far-sighted Suguru, blinking softly in the kitchen. And you felt the warmth spreading throughout your body, pleasant thoughts taking over horrendous nightmares, knocking away any monsters hunting you. You gently stroke Suguru's back, listening to his steady breathing and the quiet confessions he whispered into the crown of your head. You saw his hair beginning to shimmer with different colors, his skin slowly taking on a honey hue. It was the morning sun peeking through your window to herald the arrival of a new day and your victory. The victory of light over the darkness, of his love over your fears. You felt your eyelids getting heavy with sleep as Suguru’s fingers kept doing their magic on the bare skin of your back. Noticing you visibly relaxing in his arms, he hummed approvingly, whispering the most genuine I love you that our old wondrous world had ever heard.

And so you fell asleep, deep and sweet, safe and sound, knowing that you didn't need to confront those monsters yourself, his mere presence was enough to make them disappear, dissolve into a luminous flow and forget the way to you. He was there, promising for every night to be like this –  not fearsome but serene, for now you had your own source of light.

thank you so much for reading 💛 comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

tags for my friends: @shamelessperfectionhideout @pastelle-rabbit @rossithepixie @sukunassuka @strawberrystepmom @jazminetoad @sugurusgetou

[aquilacalvitium]

hello! i saw in one of your reblogs that you use focuswriter to write and i would like it if you would elaborate a bit on how it looks and what are its functions, maybe even something that happened.

i saw that you can change the background and set a word goal, which is very helpful, but i would like a bit more than that if you would feel comfortable doing so. the experience of someone who already uses a program or app that i want to download is invaluable to me.

of course! feel free to respond to this as you see fit. there is no pressure to answer this ☆

Oh I would LOVE to talk about FocusWriter! My personal opinion is that every writer would benefit from using it.

So! It is entirely free to download, includes no purchases whatsoever and hardly takes up any space. It gets running quickly and throws you right back into whatever you had open last at the exact point where you left it.

Now, it does not have any instructions so a first-time user will have to figure things out on the fly. Luckily! I'm here to help!

Now, this is what the program looks like upon being opened. Minus all the text - that's my fanfic I'm working on right now.

Moving your mouse to the very top, very bottom and very left of the screen will show you a few toolbars. The top toolbar includes all of your generic options like file, edit, settings, etc. (also has a very nifty find and replace option). The bottom toolbar lets you change between documents - yes you can have many documents open at a time and I personally am yet to find a limit. And on the far left, you will see a tab which you can use to navigate the document you are currently on.

In order to navigate, you will need to put a double hashtag [##] at the necessary points such as between chapters. This will differentiate the paragraphs and allow them to show up in the navigation bar.

Now, my personal favourite feature, the themes!

You can change SO MUCH and then save all of said changes in a template to switch back and forth between whenever you want! I like to stick with a generic grey background with large black text, but with just a few clicks...

I suddenly have a new wallpaper! I could also change the font and the background of the text and the colour of anything I want. Although, I did have to put these images together in a picture editing software before being able to use it as a wallpaper - FocusWriter will let you use any pre-saved image on your computer but will not let you scrapbook something together out of multiple images. You'll need to use something else for that.

This feature is PERFECT for getting into the right zone. I've made custom backgrounds for most of my fanfictions, and intend on making one for my original novel to help me write that.

In the bottom toolbar you will also see a wordcount and a daily word goal which can be adjusted in the settings.

The whole point of FocusWriter is to keep you Focused on your Writing. It's just you and the words! But it's easy to minimise or close out of when necessary. To minimise, I personally hit the windows key which brings up my regular desktop toolbar.

And to close the program, you just need to tap the windows and Q keys together. And when you open it again, as I said before, you will be exactly where you left off.

And yes, all documents created and saved in FocusWriter are saved as Word documents. This means that you can open anything made on this program in Word and vice versa. Which has definitely saved my writing a time or two, let me tell you.

I've been using FocusWriter for around seven years now, probably even longer, and I have no intention of stopping any time soon.

You can download it here!

I hope you find it as useful as I do. Happy writing!

[constructbreakdown]

The Stoner and the Fly

So, I was just getting high in my garage and I saw a fly stuck on the window. I knew a little bit about how poor insect vision could be, so I figured it got stuck trying to follow the light. The rest of the garage probably seemed like a big scary cave.

This fly was weeks old at the most, and here it was stuck in some mysterious contraption that was built and inhabited by powerful entities who were born long before their fly-parents. I felt bad for it, like it was somehow my fault that this fly had been born in such a wreck. I watched as it slammed into the glass, over and over, like Sisyphus and his rock.

I figured I might as well let it out. After opening the door, I walked away to pack myself another bowl. “This stuff is good,” I thought. “And what a good Samaritan I am, helping out a poor fly like that. With a simple twist of the wrist, I have changed its life forever.”

But there was a noise behind me.

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

The fly had not left as I thought it had. It was trapped on the door, chasing the light at the other end, away from the scary dark, towards the glass.

“What a dumb creature,” I laughed to myself, having lost all empathy whatsoever. “Even when I give it a path to escape, it still can’t find its way out.”

By this point I had finished all the cannabis I intended to consume and needed to close the door. I couldn’t risk a home invasion because of some fly.

As I walked out of the garage, I noticed it was still on the door.

About an hour and a half later, the effects of my favorite flowering herb had worn off, and it was time to return to my haven.

The fly was still there, walking along the glass.

Again I thought, “What a dumb creature”, and continued on my merry way. I grabbed my bowl, headed to the door, began to inhale—and as I looked at the fly, and looked at my bowl, all I could think was:

“Oh..”

[the-omnipotent-phlowr]

Younger Child

Summary: you’ve been searching for years, twenty fingers and a person powerful enough to host the curse they unlock. a curse so horrible that even the jujutsu society would much rather destroy its cursed objects than attempt to find a person to host them all to eliminate it permanently. but that isn’t what you want, is it? well, let’s see what you do instead.

before you read this,, all inspiration goes to@XxIllusionGhostxX on wattpad, for their story Cursed Objects – thank you so much for the permission to tell this story in my own way, paradox!

Chapter One Chapter Two | Chapter Three

The back of the school building was cold– freezing, actually. The wooded forest in front of me did nothing to break the cold winds of the night, and at this time, there were barely any warm lights to help. 

The instrument shed was empty. I searched it left, right and centre and there was nothing in it. I knew there was a cursed object in here before, but it seemed all I’d sensed were remnants of something else: something that must’ve been moved recently to have this much of a trace still unless it was something powerful enough to leave a trail for years to come. 

I shook my head. Unlikely.

My hand slid under the strap of my backpack and slung it over my shoulder, then I started my commute to the occult meeting, avoiding the club room’s window.

-

I slid the club room’s door open and slipped my bag off my shoulders. 

“Hey everyone, sorry I’m late.” It felt odd breaking the serene silence of the school at night time, so I limited my volume to just over a murmur.

Sasaki and Iguchi’s faces both turned to face me. Itadori wasn’t here yet, but the other two seemed ready to start. 

Then I sensed it; a suffocating wave of cursed energy radiating off of Sasaki, or perhaps, the relic Sasaki was holding. A bundle of paper talismans entirely wrapped around something that released too much power to be any average cursed object. She was scratching away at the end of it, trying to get it to peel, but it didn’t yield whatsoever.

Iguchi smiled and waved me over.

“Yuji isn’t coming anymore, he said he had some family business to attend to so it’s just us three today,” he whispered.

“Hey! I got it! It came off!” Sasaki exclaimed.

“Is that a–”

-

I hid in the janitorial closet to ride the storm. Tokyo’s sorcerers should be here soon, they’d clean this up and I’d retain the finger. The sheer energy dripping off the bony claw was enough to give me a headache for days, and just keeping it in my backpack made me feel as if I’d pass out from the sheer pressure of it. 

Sure, I’d masked the finger’s cursed energy as much as I could, but the curses still sensed it; they still knew that it was somewhere in the building. I couldn’t let them get to it under any circumstance. 

A shrill scream echoed through the school. I sensed two curses near the origin of the sound and suspected that Sasaki had been found. 

Someone else is here.��

I tracked an energy source rushing towards my location. It stopped in front of a curse and two more, brighter energy sources appeared, destroying the curse and then rushing after the first source. As the energy came closer and closer to my closet, I opened a small crack in the door to look through. 

A raven-haired jujutsu sorcerer rushed past me, beelining straight for Sasaki’s scream. I considered him for a moment, his cursed technique was an interesting one, and he proved that he could kill a curse with ease, so I figured he’d last a good half an hour before the more powerful curses eventually killed him. He wasn’t worth much thought, so I stayed in the janitor’s closet to wait for the calm no matter how long it took or how bored I got.

I did something without thinking and followed him. 

“Hey, you!” I yelled, “What are these things out here?”

His pace faltered a bit but steadied as we turned a corner. 

“They’re called curses,” he said, “and they’re dangerous so go back and hide.”

I hummed, “Can’t.”

“What?”

“There are two behind us.”

His unruly black hair tousled when he snapped his head back. The sorcerer was young, not much older than Itadori, but his power was obvious to me from just a quick glance at him. His energy was a striking royal blue that engulfed his hands as soon as he poised himself to call on one of his cursed creatures. The white mutt ran through both the curses and the pair of us continued running to whatever awaited us where Sasaki was. 

Turning one last corner, we found her. 

The second year was in the process of being absorbed by one of the bigger curses I’d discovered earlier. It was a large and disgusting amalgamation of flesh, face and limb that all but clawed at her with its many oversized baby arms. It writhed, grasping at her every part and lingering suspiciously long on her chest. 

Pervert. 

The curse’s eyes all flicked to me, and I cursed myself for not masking the finger’s energy well enough. I dulled the cursed object’s aura even more than I did while running to see if it’d help, but by this time, the curse was already forgetting about the schoolgirl in its grasp. 

“– are you hearing me?” 

The sorcerer was talking to me, “Run, dammit!”

“Huh?” I came up with a quick excuse, “But Sasaki–” 

“Go!” 

Deep groans filtered out the mouths of the curse, and it started to drag toward me. The thing wasn’t going to take the sorcerer even a couple of seconds to dispatch on his own, but Sasaki and the lower body I’d noticed as Iguchi complicated things. 

Until they didn’t.

“Itadori!” 

The form of the brown-haired first-year jumping through the second-floor window was not one I expected, but seeing him jumping onto the curse and swiping both of his club members from its grubby hands – or mouth in Iguchi’s case, was a bit exciting to see. He leapt off the curse, which made no effort to change its course and landed in the hallway. 

“So this is a curse?” Itadori started, “Kinda weird– different to what I’d expected.”

The sorcerer killed the curse in one fell swoop.

“I should be asking what you’re doing here, but–” He began to walk towards Itadori. “– Good job.”

Stuffing his hands in his uniform pockets, the green-eyed sorcerer stopped and faced me. He squinted his eyes at me, scanning my entire person: and frankly annoying me quite a bit. 

“What do you need?” I asked, a bit more brashly than intended, “I don’t enjoy being stared at by random guys.”

He sighed, and the creases around his eyes deepened.

“Do you have the thing that Itadori found?”

I nodded and slipped the bag off my shoulder, knowing that there wasn’t enough time to even give him the finger before–

“(L/N) LOOK OUT,” 

The sorcerer slammed into me and pushed me out of the way of the curse that was above me. The giant hand grabbed onto him and threw him into the wall. 

I feigned surprise and watched as the creature burst through the wall, pelting the sorcerer onto the roof of an adjacent school building. 

Itadori immediately ran to the hole that the curse caused and yelled the other guy’s name. Without an answer, he put down our club members and then turned to me. 

“(L/N),  look after Satsuki and Iguchi, I’m gonna go help Fushiguro.” 

I watched as the boy lined up to jump onto the building in front of us, then I had an idea.

“Itadori!” I exclaimed.

He turned back to me, still crouching. 

“Yeah?”

I walked towards him and slipped my bag off my back, “Take this.”

Pulling Sukuna’s finger out of  my bag, I handed it to him, “If things get bad, eat it.”

Without skipping a beat, Itadori nodded his thanks and stuffed the finger in his pocket. He jumped onto the building. 

I looked at Sasaki and Iguchi and groaned now I’ll have to protect them from stray curses. Hopefully, my gamble on Itadori works out. If not, I’d have to dispatch both him and the sorcerer, which would be a pain. I’d just have to scare away the curse, which shouldn’t be too hard, but hopefully, all of that would stay a thought. 

I paced the hallway for a bit, waiting for any sign that Itadori had done what I’d advised. Swinging my necklace around by the chain and generating just enough cursed energy to spin it at a practical speed. I threw and caught my meteor hammer a couple of times before sitting down, bored. 

I placed the necklace beside me and pulled out my phone; Kaeru had messaged me asking about my day. 

‘You: it was pretty alright. i joined the occult club’

I waited for a while before he responded. 

‘蛙 (frog): i actually just joined my school’s occult club! our club has a bunch of field trips, so i might miss some messages for days at a time’ 

An occult club with frequent field trips? What kind of school funds that stuff?

‘蛙 (frog): did you make any new friends tho?’

As I was typing my next message, I froze. 

A spike of cursed energy larger than anything I’d felt in years came from Itadori’s direction. I stood as fast as I could, dropping my phone and scrambling to see what was happening outside. 

Then I saw him, standing before the curse’s corpse. Well, not exactly him. He was in Itadori’s body, weaker considering he only ate one finger. But I knew better than anyone could. It was him.

The King of Curses has returned.

Just as I grabbed my necklace, preparing to enter the battlegrounds, something happened. Sukuna’s hand — or should I say — Itadori’s hand grabbed Sukuna by the neck and started to talk. I stopped and stared. 

The King of Curses has returned, without full control of his body.

[sillysurrealwriter]

Eden's Garden

A True Paradise.

Synopsis: You wake up in a paradise of sorts. A dream come true and then you see a beautiful castle. You will enter.

And you won't leave.

Inspired by B3312.

My eyes darted across the area.

I was met with beautiful sunshine and a big wide meadow. Birds were chirping in the distance and I could see the sun smiling brightly at me, their rays gently caressing my skin. I smiled and took a few steps forward, feeling the wet grass amidst my naked feet.

I had no idea, where I was. Or how I even got here.

But I didn’t really care that much, you know. I......felt safe.

I felt so safe.....To feel the warmth of this place, made me feel all relaxed.

Ignoring all the pain I had endured, for a long time. For months on end.

It....was alright now, wasn’t it?

Humming to myself, I eventually noticed a lone tree stump in the distance. Deciding to rest my legs a bit, after walking for what felt like hours, I sat down on the tree stump. My head turned towards the distance and I was met with the beautiful, wide sea.

The water was rather calm and pleasant to look at. No waves in sight and I think I even saw some colourful fish moving beneath the surface. I think it was a fish family, trying its hardest to reach their home after a long day of work.

My eyes gleamed with joy, as the beauty of this place overwhelmed me.

Was....this Eden? The lost paradise of God?

Father told me about it, when he read the bible to me as a kid. God created a man and a woman, Adam and Eve. They lived in the paradise together, being at peace....

...until the snake came along and corrupted them. Thus, kicking them out of god’s garden.

And yet....here I was. Was...this a reward?

I wasn’t really a good person. I mean sure, I wasn’t a jerk, but I’d hardly qualify as hard-working, compassionate and strong. I personally think that if anyone should deserve to be here, it’s supposed to be my mother.

She took care of me, so much. Way more than necessary.

Even now......

Wind blew into my face gently and I laughed out loud, in a way how I haven’t laughed in a long while. I...felt at ease. My lungs weren’t hurting and I had so much strength within me.

I felt like, I could get up and swim through the entire ocean, with ease. With no difficulties, whatsoever. I felt like...I could stay here forever. Not caring about anything else, like my problems.

They.....were irrelevant. But here...I was relevant.

Letting out a yawn, I stretched myself and then got up, noticing a path leading downwards towards the beach.

With a quick motion, I followed the path down and I hummed happily, as the warm sand touched my toes. Sure, some of it stuck because my feet were a bit wet from the grass. But honestly?

I don’t really mind. Not at all. This....felt good.

But suddenly, I noticed something in the distance. Not too far ahead.

There....was a smaller island. One....with a big castle on it. It was a bit foggy, so I couldn’t make out the exact details of the building...

However, it did drew towards me. Question was, how was I going to get over there? Sure, swimming wouldn’t be an issue, yet I didn’t want my clothes to be wet.

I glanced around, trying to look for something that could help me.

And I found it.

Soon, I was sitting in a small wooden boat and with the paddle, I moved through the sea. With each movement, this wonderful feeling inside of me got stronger and stronger.

The castle came closer and closer. The sky in the distant had a slight pink hue, even though it was still a warm light blue.

Eventually, I reached the shore and stepped out of the boat and onto the island. Curiously, I walked through the grass and then took a closer look at the castle.

Its facade was white and wide, beautiful crystal windows decorating it and the roof all pink and far, a big tower with a clock showing the time.

It was 4.39 PM.

Curiously, I approached the castle and then knocked on the big wooden door, waiting for someone to open it up.

Yet.....no one did.

I knocked again.

Yet no one opened yet again.

Slightly frustrated, I grabbed the doorknob and pulled....

....only for the door to open. It wasn’t locked at all.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I stepped inside and into the building.

The entrance hall was massive, with tons of doors at every corner, along with white stairs reaching to the upper parts. Fountains were spewing water out of their mouths, looking like a pair of two giraffes. In awe, I walked towards the door on the left and opened it up....

...I was met with a beautiful bedroom, massive and wide, the bed all big and comfy with a red blanket. A nightstand to relax with and two long curtains at the side of the massive window. The bed....looked so comfortable. I....I’d love to lie down...

But first...I wanted to see, what else this castle had to offer.

So, I left the room and checked out the rooms in the lower part. I was met with a massive kitchen, with all the food and sweets I desperately craved for as a kid, but never got.

Diabetes sure is a pain in the ass. But...that’s a long time ago, wasn’t it? Maybe....I should look around more, before taking a bite?

The next room was a dining room of sorts, a massive table fully decorated with plates, cups, forks, knives and whatnot. They looked rather clean.

Who lived here?

The other rooms on the floor were more beautiful than the other, depicting them like some sort of fantasy. Or a paradise of sorts.

I eventually moved up the stairs and then approached the front door. Where did this lead? To the roof?

I opened it up and was met with a long set of stairs. I stepped inside and....

Suddenly, I was in the entrance hall again. Confused, I scratched my head.

What the.....

Light was peaking through the windows, taking on an even more pinkish tone.

That was weird. I climbed up the stairs again and then opened the door again, finding myself standing in front of the stairs again. I took another step...

...and then another.

Nothing weird happened, as I climbed the stairs. With each step, I felt more and more warmth coming towards me, as I eventually approached another door. I opened it up...

..and I was met with a beautiful garden.

Fountains, statues depicting animals, flowers in all forms and sizes and a massive fountain that gave water like there was no tomorrow. Smiling relaxed, I stepped forward and glanced around. Walls were surrounding this garden, making me feel safe.

Yet...I didn’t see any garden from the outside.

Eh. It must have been hidden from me, thanks to the sunlight. It was rather big after all, wasn’t it?

Walking forward, I passed by a group of butterflies and then saw another large tower. This must lead to the top part of the castle.

So I opened the door and stepped inside. I was met with more stairs, leading up. I climbed them bit by bit, the light shining from the top becoming even stronger.

And eventually, I reached another door. Like usual, I opened it and then.....

I was met with another garden, even more massive and beautiful than the last one. Thad one had a massive statue in the middle of it, depicting....a strange symbol. It looked like a moon, yet also had the characteristics of a human face, with eyes that were quite detailed to say the least. The eyes were staring past me and I then walked past the statue and climbed up the stairs, noticing more and more, how warm the place became.

Yet, when I finally reached the next door, it got a bit darker.

The sun was setting. I should find another bedroom here, in order to relax.

So, I opened the door and I was met with some kind of indoor bathhouse. The floor was warm and had a beautiful sunset pattern. In front of me, there was a massive swimming pool, the water high enough for me to walk there.

I carefully walked into the water and then felt the warmth relaxing me, making me feel at ease. With each step, the light shining from the windows got stronger and stronger. As the light behind me, got weaker and weaker.

I walked....and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and walked......and walked....and walked..and walked....and

I walked.

The hallway didn’t seem to end. And...I was beginning to feel tired.....

The water got deeper, with each step and eventually, I was forced to swim ahead.

Finally, I saw a small door at the end of it. I swam towards it and then got out, my clothes all wet and messy. Opening the door, I was met with a strange room.

It was another small pool, thankfully higher. And yet...that painting....

It depicted that strange symbol again, I saw in the courtyard. And the wall was littered with the main planets of our solar system.

Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto-

Hold on. Pluto wasn’t a main planet. It was just a dwarf.

My legs began to feel chilly, as I suddenly noticed something about the painting.

The eyes...disappeared. The moon....it had rings and....did it move......

I approached the painting further, trying to find some sort of description for it. Eventually, I noticed a small sign next to it. I took a closer look at it. It said:

“Are you okay? I hope you are. If you are not, worry not. It will be all over now. This is better than being stuck in your four white walls, isn’t it?”

Huh.....

Suddenly, my head began to hurt. I coughed and then felt blood leaking out of my forehead. My vision became blurry and I suddenly heard a massive weird noise, destroying my ear drums. Blood covered my eyes and I saw how the painting began to shake, its noise coming from there. I felt something pulling me downwards and I wanted to scream, but the water gave me a deep kiss.

And then.....I felt nothing at all. Because...that’s the end of my story.

...............................................

The next morning, someone else arrived on the island. Their smile wide, they couldn’t wait to take a beautiful look at this masterpiece.

The masterpiece, they’d call Eden’s Garden.

[glazemedaka]

and my bones adrift.

furina / f!reader (3k) sfw. set after the events of 4.2 archon quest, but before the events of Animula Choragi. slightly contradicts character story #5, but in the spirit of loving furina.

The lights are out; the stage is silent. There's no need for an actress without a show, and no need for a maid without a mistress. But for Furina, the show continues past its final chorus.

On the first day of her new life, she carried her bags herself.

The officers at the waterway dock had asked, several times, if her ladyship needed any assistance? Any help whatsoever? And her ladyship, Furina de Fontaine, had smiled and thanked them, before dramatically declaring that her cases were as light as her heart and swinging them around in wide circles for good measure.

She didn’t tell them that there was nothing inside her cases. All of her ladyship’s things were still in their places within the Palais Mermonia; silver trays and silver tins on spotless shelves, in rooms full of light and mirrors. Perhaps there would even be a slice of cake on its little blue saucer waiting for a her that never came to eat it.

At least she had the aquabus to herself for the journey downcity. She set her cases down, and her smile with it, as the city rooftops rolled by the waterway. No need to wave, no need to pose. No need to do anything at all.

“I’m sure the quiet is a nice break, Lady Furina!” the melusine conductor piped up, from the steering well. “The parties have been getting quite rowdy the last few nights— but of course, people need to celebrate!”

Her ladyship smiled. “Yes, of course. Parties. Yes, I’m going to one just now, actually…”

“… and it’s sure to be the most boring gathering of the season,” she lamented, throwing herself on the pink satin sofa of the dressing room.

“I’m sure they’ll be grateful, then, for your presence, my lady,” you said without looking up, head down over the skirt you were hemming.

“Assuredly,” she said, rolling her eyes. “The Marquess Durande will be beside himself—“

“Durande?” you asked absently, shaking out the skirt, assessing your work. “I don’t recall a Durande on the seating chart.”

She could see his face, could remember inviting him. She’d handed him the invitation herself. Surely you were mistaken? Durande with his strong nose and bellowing laugh… Durande with his duelist’s hands… Durande looking over the lake, smaller somehow, with the years resting heavy as he leaned his weight on his cane…

Nephew. It was the nephew who had inherited. He hadn’t changed his name. Right.

“… did you think I said Durande? I said Durvenne, of course! Ahaha!”

The apartment was smaller than the prints had made it seem.

It had a narrow front stair up from the door, with peeling wallpaper that vaguely smelled of pipesmoke and lamp oil, even though the listing in the Steambird had boasted ‘modern lighting conveniences.’ The main room itself was… roomy. There were no walls to divide it up, so light from the unwashed windows filled the space and made every mote of dust more apparent. It came with ‘complimentary furniture,’ as per the listing— though she wouldn’t exactly compliment any of the furniture. There was one wicker chair with a hole in the bottom, a scarred table that looked like the it had survived the great cataclysm and would probably survive another, and the bed, well… it existed.

It was, in a few words: cheap, ugly, and awful. Not at all the sort of place for Furina de Fontaine.

“As you can see,” the manager said, wrestling one of the kitchen cabinets open, “it’s got… quite a bit of storage! Though, of course, if your ladyship finds it lacking, I do have other properties that are a bit, well, more… ”

It was not the first time they had suggested she visit other apartments. Apartments with higher ceilings and new wainscoting. Apartments that would suit her better than this one, with its cramped kitchen and its dingy iron stove and its cracked floor tiles.

“It’s lovely,” she said, and smiled before they could say more. “It will suit me perfectly.”

“If your ladyship is sure…”

She dreamed of a mansion that had fallen into the sea, flooded halls and shattered portrait frames. Beautiful bronze casts greened over by algae and smooth-edged by time, shattered plates and glasses littering carpets centuries out of vogue.

It was an old dream, familiar around the seams; she knew it well.

There was always a door, always, and she needed to find it, to find the door that would save everyone, the door that only she could hold closed. Or open? Was she supposed to open it, or keep it shut? Was she supposed to search for the missing master of the house or was she supposed to take the stage in her stead so the party could carry on?

Kicking off the brass-clad balustrade she drifted deeper and deeper into the bowels of the house, through rotted pantries and ruined closets until finally she felt the knob, just as it began to shake—

She woke in her awful new bed, alone.

flour milk cheese macaroni tomato onion cake?

She tapped her charcoal pencil against the scrap of paper. That was good, right? That was a good list? That seemed like the sorts of things she’d seen in the lithograph illustrations in ladies’ magazines.

The provenance of her meals had never really concerned her; there had always been a bevy of maids and a bushel of butlers to busy themselves with the production of grand banquets and feasts. She simply presented herself at the correct hour, with the correct amount of aplomb, and it all took care of itself. She was beginning to realize that a great deal more effort went into these things than she had thought.

She wished you were here, with your practical little reusable list. You would know just what to buy, and how much, and what sorts of things she would want three days from now. You always did.

But you weren’t here. You were in the Palais Mermonia, doing your job— the great clockwork of daily life hadn’t stopped just because she had packed her cases and moved out. Surely someone else would be grateful to have you brush their hair, and hem their trousers, and read detective novels with them, laughing at the ridiculous premises—

— oh. The charcoal was smeared, wet and messy. Her list was ruined. She scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeve. Perhaps shopping could wait. Yes, it could wait. She’d make a new list, and go tomorrow.

“You never forget a thing,” she said. “However do you remember it all?”

You were cutting something, silver shears carefully circling a scrap of fabric. Without removing the pins from your mouth, you fished a hand into the pocket of your apron, and pressed a flat little piece of metal into her hands. Around the pins, you mumbled, “I wuse ah wist, of couwrseh.”

She turned it over; it had words engraved in a tiny, meticulous script. Flour, milk, cheese, pasta, tomatoes, onions… “That looks more like a plaque than a list. Do you just buy the same things every time?”

“No, silly,” you said, mouth freed of pins. You tapped your finger beside the words. “See? There are little pegs. You slide them over for the things you need, so you remember which ones to buy.”

“How do you remember things that aren’t on here? Special requests, like, oh, I don’t know, my sweetflower syrup…”

You smiled, plucking the list-plaque back from her hands. “I take care not to forget my lady’s special requests.”

“So you’re always thinking of me! I knew it,” she play-preened, pretending at self-indulgence; the role called for it.

“Always,” you said, entirely serious. “You’re always in my thoughts, my lady.”

Her laugh stuttered a beat. “O-oh! Well— good! As it should be!”

Yesterday faded into tomorrow. The morning sun slanted through the dirty windows, cut into neat squares over the narrow, sagging bed. Curtains. She should get curtains. People had curtains. She’d get around to it, tomorrow. Or yesterday. There wasn’t much difference.

She dreamed of the parlor, with the lights dimmed, the day done. You sat behind her, carefully pulling a comb through her hair. Gentle. Always gentle. She leaned against it, enjoying the sensation of resistance.

You had always liked to hum, and you were doing it now. Sometimes it was her songs; sometimes it was older tunes. It was soothing, like the brushing, warm and familiar. Everything here was familiar: the blue velvet stool she sat on, the wide teeth of the comb in her hair, your quiet little song.

“What’s the name of that song?” she asked. She could almost remember it, almost feel the shape of the words in her mouth. She’d sung this one, she was sure of it.

“Oh, now, I dunno, yer ladyship,” you said. Had you always had that accent? “It’s your solo, though. I’m sure you know it by heart.”

Your hands kept brushing, smoothing her hair, rhythmic and steady, as her heart skittered out of sync. By heart. She felt her heart in her chest, hammering, uneasy. By heart. She knew it by heart.

Why couldn’t she remember any of the words?

She turned, finally, to face you. Had your hair always been brown? Yes? No— maybe—

That was your face, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

In the end, hunger won.

The apartment did not come with complimentary food— not that she would have trusted any even if it had. List or no list, she had to get something to eat, even if she didn’t feel like it.

The only trouble with that, it turned out, was not knowing where. Oh, she knew the locations of all the popular cafes—

(and cafes that had been dreamt, built, aged, decayed, ruined, rebuilt, reopened)

… but she didn’t know where to buy dry goods or packaged meals. It couldn’t be that hard, surely. People did it all the time! She could figure this out. She would just keep circling the area, and eventually someone with a basket of groceries would pass by, and she would simply walk in the direction they had come from until she found—

“My lady? My lady!”

She turned, and there you were. Running down the street at full tilt, skirts billowing behind you, apron askew.

Her heart clenched, in fear and wanting. Why were you here? Was something wrong—? No, no, she had to play nonchalant, it wouldn’t do to be too concerned.

“Oh! G-good to see you. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Or anywhere. Or ever again.

You leaned on your knees, panting, as you came to a stop. “… e-excuse me, my lady. I ran all the way from the station, because I thought I saw your hat from above— and then it was your hat, and I was so excited to finally— to finally—“

“You… you were looking for me?” she said, nonplussed.

“Of course I was looking for you! The Palais hasn’t been the same without you, my lady. I— we all— understand if you need a vacation, of course, with the prophecy and the waters and whatnot, but I’m— we’re all— excited for when you—”

“Yes, yes, that’s all. I needed a solitary sojourn to refresh myself after the great… the…” She stopped. Those weren’t her words. Those were Furina de Fontaine, and that role had run its course.

“… actually, I won’t be coming back,” she continued, quietly. “You see, things are all set now. There’s no need for me.”

“I think there’s a great need for you, my lady!” you said immediately, still half out of breath. “Who else will sing in this year’s winter concert?”

It was absurd. Utterly farcical. And she found, for just a moment, she craved it so badly she was sick with wanting. It would be so simple, to step back into the role. So easy, so familiar. Sing at the winter concert. Sit at the trials. Pose for the fashion plates. The steps were already measured out, and she knew them all by heart.

“No,” she said, more firmly. “I won’t be singing in this winter’s concert, or next year’s concert, or ever again. I’m quite finished. I’m so glad to have seen you again, but I really must be going.”

And her ladyship smiled, and turned to go—

— but found her wrist seized in a desperate grip.

“Unhand— let me go—“ she said, struggling to pull her cuff out of your hand. “I think I’ve made myself quite clear! While I thank you for your efforts and attentions, they are no longer necessary!”

“No,” you said, stubborn still. You hung onto her sleeve with crab-like determination. “Who will wash your chemises? Who will warm the hot stones for your bed? Who will make sure you get a slice of 16-per-day cake? You can’t even get out of bed before noon!”

“You don’t know that! Maybe I can! Maybe I will! You don’t know— anything about me! You only know Furina de Fontaine and— I’m— not— her!” She finally wrenched her sleeve free, and stumbled back with the recoiled force. More softly, she continued, “You knew a little princess on a stage who ate cakes and slept late. You don’t know anything at all.”

Nevermind that it wasn’t your fault. There was nothing to know; water filled any vessel.

“Wait— my lady—!”

Her ladyship turned and fled.

Were those your hands in her hair? Or another’s, a hundred years gone?

Was it your smile that made her chest ache— or another smile, faded around the edges, nameless now?

Did she miss you? Or did she miss someone else whose shape you were filling?

Did you miss her?

Did it make a difference?

Was it not enough to be wanted, to be missed?

Was there a difference between the glass and the water?

Did it matter if the glass had been empty from the start?

Shortly after the eighth bell the next morning, there was a knock at her door.

She rubbed the dried tears from her face, stumbled out of her narrow, squeaking bed, struggled into her undershirt, corset, and shirtwaist, attempted to put her hair in order, gave up, changed her mind, gave up again, and answered the insistent knocking before she could really think better of it.

It was you. Of course it was you.

“Wh—“

“Hello,” you answered brightly, a basket in your hands. “I’m—”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, pulling up as much imperiousness as she could manage with tangled hair and puffy eyes. “Didn’t I make myself perfectly clear yesterday? Was I not explicit?”

“Oh, perfectly,” you said, and your smile still made her chest ache. “You made yourself quite clear. I know nothing about you. We are to be strangers, but— how did that one poet write it? ‘Every friend was a stranger once’? Something like that. So! I’ve brought you a getting-to-know-you present.”

You unfolded the top of the basket, and inside there was an array of… breads? She didn’t recognize any of them, not a single one.

“You’re so stubborn,” she said, and felt tears sting her eyes again. “Why can’t you understand? I can’t be your lady anymore.”

You carefully folded the basket lid back, and set it aside. She noticed, finally, that you were not wearing your uniform anymore. She’d never seen you without it, couldn’t have imagined you wearing anything else— and somehow, inexplicably, that was a balm. Now there was a memory of you she could never mistake for anyone else.

“When my la— when you left,” you started slowly, fingers knitting together, “it was so… empty. The chamberlain said we could all stay on to keep the halls open for visitors, but it… it just… there wasn’t anyone to make emergency costumes for, anymore. Nobody to share my novels with. I could have stayed on, but… nobody needed a maid anymore. And I got to wondering if anybody had, you know, made sure you brought a winter coat, or a parasol, or—”

Needed. Nobody had needed. She knew what that felt like. She felt the pressure begin to build behind her eyes, and she swiped at them. “You don’t know the first thing about me…”

“So teach me, then,” you said, exasperated. “If I don’t know the first thing about you— teach me! I want to know!”

“What if I don’t know?” she sobbed, the words bursting out of her. “What if I don’t know the first thing about me?”

“Then— then we’ll learn together!” you said, as practical and stubborn as ever. As if it was that easy. As if it could be that easy. “I don’t know what troubles you, but I won’t let it trouble you alone.”

“Stupid,” she said, squeezing out tears, feeling her nose begin to run. Unmannerly, undignified, and unladylike. “Stupid! You’re so stupid!”

“I know,” you said, taking her face between your work-calloused hands. She didn’t resist. “And so are you! Running away without even a spare shirt! I can see the stains on your cuffs, you know!”

“Wh— I— why are you even looking at my cuffs!”

“It’s a maid’s job,” you said, thumb rubbing her cheek, wet with her tears, “to care about things like that for you.”

“Not anymore,” she said, suppressing an absurd giggle. “You’re not my maid anymore.”

“Well,” you said, and you were so close that she could feel the heat of you. “I suppose I must be somebody else, then.”

“I suppose you must,” she agreed.

Furina de Fontaine would never be caught dead kissing her (former) maidservant in the crumbling doorway of a third-rate apartment. It would have been deeply improper— the things the gossip columns would say!

It was a good thing she wasn’t Furina de Fontaine anymore.

If I was dead, and my bones adrift like dropped oars in the deep, turning earth;

I swear your love would raise me out of my grave, in my flesh and blood,

like Lazarus; hungry for this, and this, and this, your living kiss.

if I was dead, carol ann duffy (abridged; full version)

[suminta]

title: a mags-nificent summer

character: mags romero

author’s notes: i just missed writing and i missed mags! i love mags. i realized while i was creating her character that i needed to be smart to show off her smartness so i just tend to focus on her emotions. she has a lot of em. anyway, this is a four-parter. five, if i’m not lazy. based off of this thing i made that i later realized i didn’t like as much as i did rip :/ 

June 2021.

On an old, faux-maple table that the Romeros had procured from an estate sale a few blocks over, Mags began to write away. Somewhat mindlessly, but her best sessions came from when she was feeling her lowest. So off she wrote!

About her school year. About people she loved, and people she might end up loving. Even people she’d think she could end up loving if the circumstances were right. It went down like a list: her parents, her grandparents, her cousin Nikki, then the people she had met at Gallagher. And that one was a table all on its’ own. There was Ria, there was Willow, Val, Sunny, Ruby…

“Mom, can I just help you put some dishes out or something?”

“No, honey. Just sit. Take a rest. You must be exhausted.” And the young girl looked up to her mother, Felicia, giving her a sly wink as the older woman moved around the kitchen to take care of this and that. Wafting through the air was the smell of fried lumpia, being pushed around by a sunny afternoon in Washington D.C. The family had opted to keep the windows open, heat emanating from the food frying, the rice cooking on the counter, and the warmth in Magdalena’s cheeks as she thought about the night before.

Being an only child can suck sometimes. Mags knows that her parents know that as a young woman of her age, attending college quite a distance away from them, away from their protectiveness...it was only normal to go to parties and drink.

And Beyonce’ was there, so if you asked Mags, there was no regret whatsoever. Even if she was as exhausted as her mother says she is.

“You know, your Lola had called me up this morning.” Miguel Romero had started to put the last of the lumpia on a bowl, ready to be served, as he went on. “She said she’ll be flying to the Philippines for two months. There’s some..family stuff that needs to be looked over.”

Felicia raised a brow, “Well, that’s the first I’ve heard of that. What kind of family stuff, my love?”

The older man shrugged. “It’s nothing too important. Well, that’s not true. Just..real estate. Some land that may or may not belong to us. Who knows? That’s the whole reason she needs to be there. And hey--” He set the bowl down on the table. “Maybe some of it does belong to our family and we’re lucky and we can say that we own land back there. And when I say ‘we’, I really mean my mom. But part of the family’s properties nonetheless.”

Mags could only nod, still scribbling away as she mentally notes to add some doodles and pictures to her journal pages after their late lunch was over. “I sure hope it’s ours. Otherwise, Lola would be wasting a trip. Also, at her age, I don’t think flying would be ideal. Especially flying commercial and cheap. It’s scary!” Cue the interesting times she had running from one terminal to another for her flights to the Berlin internship. “People can be rude too. Flying is not for the weak.”

“Mags, your grandmother is just pushing eighty. And your cousin Nikki is going with her, seeing as she has all those points saved up. I’m sure they’re as comfortable as they can be.” Miguel reassured her before taking his seat and sighing. “Of course, I would’ve loved to come. But there’s work to be done here. Your mom and I have a case that we need to tend to.”

Her ears perked up at that. She theorizes that the more time she spent at Gallagher, the more nosy she became. Though maybe she could class up the terminology just a bit. Nosy could be called observant. And easy as it came, she could put that down on her curriculum vitae and call it a day. “A case?”

Felicia sent her daughter a smile. Part comforting, part .. mystery, if you asked Mags. There were ways her mother could smile at her and she wouldn’t really know how to feel. “Nothing too big. But it is tedious, so we can’t spend as much time with you as we’d like, honey.”

Miguel grunted. “Part of me wishes I was retired so we could at least enjoy you during the summer. I mean, you might keep chugging along after you graduate from Gallagher and we wouldn’t even have spent a single month with you.” Though the older man knew that it is what it is; him and Felicia had things they needed to do while Mags could pretty much go wherever. Their only comfort was that, in the midst of all this, Mags could experience a normal life.

One without near-fatal home invasions, people her age being poisoned and having their lives cut short, or fellow students dying from organizations that hunted people like her down. That last one was a doozy; Felicia had broken some oaths in telling him that one. A necessity and just plain common sense, as the two were married and would continue to be for the rest of their lives. Felicia tells Miguel, Miguel tells Felicia, and sometimes Mags would be told things. Sometimes. That’s how it worked.

Before he could pick up a piece of food, Miguel eyed his wife as she sat down. Felicia responded by giving him a puzzled look; Mags being none the wiser as she finished up the paragraph she had been writing. Miguel gave one knowing grunt and gestured towards their daughter.

As the realization dawned upon her, Felicia cleared her throat and waited until Mags had her journal closed before she spoke. “Honey, since we can’t spend time with you this summer, your dad and I were thinking that you could..stay over at your grandma’s farm.”

Mags blinked before taking a glance at her parents. One on each side of her, with her brain only running through multiple possible responses before uttering a single: “Huh?”

“To be fair, there are still some keepers left at the farm. You know, there’s the people that tend to the lands and the cattle, and the house. Just .. I – W-we, don’t really know of any other place that we feel you’d be safe in. Your mom and I know each and every one of your Lola’s farm keepers. They’re like family as well.”

“Well..--” “And before you ask, no, my side of the family..no. I mean, you’ve met them and they’re nice, but ..I just don’t want you wrapped up in what they’ve got going on. It’s..too much. Your uncle is trying to run for mayor in their little town and I just don’t want you within their circle. Politics can be very dangerous.”

Mags looked down at her journal, closed up and buckled. Worn over by the many times she’s opened it up to write, dropped it down in a hurry to get to her next class, thrown it down on floor of the science labs every time she got frustrated (to her mentor’s displeasure, she was sure), and the sleepless nights she’d studied for one or more tests. The droplets of tears that adorned both the cover and several paragraph-riddled pages as she thought of the worst when it came to her grades, to her friends, to the rejections she’d experienced, both professionally and personally.

Even through two whole years at Gallagher and the many times she’d picked up her head from the toilet after a night of drunken fun at one of Gallagher’s many events, Mags still felt like she did years ago. She was good, she followed the rules, and she could count the amount of tension-filled confrontations she’s had with one hand.

And maybe part of her was delusional, but it was her summer before her third year. Her first year at Gallagher after Laura Sutton had resigned, for better or for worse.

She could envision herself at her dorm window, looking down at the incoming class of first years and wonder where the last two years had went. Because she could swear it was just yesterday that she was arranging her plants by her dorm’s window, thinking about the many ways her first years could end. And how none of it lived up to what actually happened.

“Mags?” Her mother urged, a hand reached out to grasp her shoulder. “What do you think?”

She tapped her fingers on her journal’s buckle and gave a small smile. “I guess I could do months on my own at Lola’s farm. Could be a good experience for me.”

[nahasdj]

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Next Life | kth (m)

☆ summary:  Although you and Taehyung didn’t believe in first and second lives, you both wished you’d find each other in the next life as you both looked at the sky that night.

☆ pairing: husband!tae x wife!reader

☆ genre: angst, smut.

☆ warning: sexual content, angst

☆ word count: 4k

☆a/n: Finally this is done. Thank you so much @jkiddingjeon for beta-ing the fic, it meant A LOT. I really love this fic and I hope you enjoy it too. ngl it's a pretty heartbreaking fic so get ready for some ANGST.

Love. Hate. 

It’s always adjacent to each other. Something that’s always there when the other is present. It also changes people. How it makes people go from loving someone and being best friends with someone to trying everything they can to pull them down, to take them out. 

You’d say you can relate to it. In more ways than one. You had seen your fair share of people going from loving them unconditionally to talking shit about them the next day. Divorce was one of them. All the promises and vows made of staying through health and sickness, through good and bad, thrown out of the window. 

You thought of it as one of the most heartbreaking things and now you were here. Doing the exact thing as you watched the clock tick by, thinking of ways and excuses to get you out of this marriage. This marriage that ended everything. It hadn’t always been like this. No, you were in love. You were so madly in love that if anyone had told you you’d stand in this place today you’d not believe it. 

You are still in love. So madly in love but the difference being you want it to end. Maybe that way you’d find each other again.

As time went by, you stood by the railing of your balcony. The bright light of the city shined underneath you as you thought Tomorrow would be it. The end of what once was seen as a beautiful love story by not only you but by many others. The final chapter.

Maybe love and hate stood adjacent to each other but you could never hate him. 

And so you stood there, taking it all in, you thought about where it went wrong.

7 months ago

“I can’t believe you think that!” you shouted, hands up in the air as you walked back into the apartment, him following you behind. 

“Well I wouldn’t if you kept your distance!” he said, raising his voice.

“Oh my god. One hug. It was one hug. And that too because he was leaving.” 

“It didn’t look like one,” he argued back. 

“Are you freaking kidding me right now? Nothing happened, you know that.” you said trying to calm yourself down. 

“Stop trying to argue with me all the fucking time.” he bit back. 

“Oh, I am arguing? You were the one who started it.” You took long strides towards him. 

“You were the one who accused his wife of cheating although you have no proof whatsoever” you gritted through your teeth as your finger poked his chest. 

He let out a loud groan as you run your hands through your hair. “You know what, Taehyung? You can stay here. I’m leaving.” and with that you grabbed your purse and keys and strode out the door, slamming it behind. 

Kim Taehyung. 

The love of your life. You met him in college. As cliché as it sounds, he was the heartthrob with his extremely good looks and his unbelievable flirting skills. You weren’t supposed to know him at all if you thought about it. 

Your college held its annual fest, and you were the head of the management. You had stumbled across him when he had come to drop off some supplies instead of his best friend. You got into a small quarrel when he commented on how you were the head of the management when you were only a freshman and questioned your ability to pull the entire thing off when it was only three days from the fest and not even one percent of anything was done.

You got into a bet with him as you made him promise you that he’d treat you to something of your choice if you pulled it off. Nevertheless, you pulled the entire thing off within the next two days, proving him wrong. As a promise, he treated you to something really expensive(of course you had picked it) and then swore to never question your ability.  

You started seeing more of him, with his surprise visits to your class (which usually ended up with girls surrounding you asking how you knew him) or him coming to your seat in the cafeteria just to give you some new juice he got for you. Sometimes he’d ask you to come to one of his basketball matches and then took you to dinner afterward. 

You felt your heartbeat increasing every time you saw him or heard his name in fact, and before you knew it, you were confessing to him, putting your heart on the line. 

The day you confessed, you ran out before he could even reply. Too scared to be rejected. But Taehyung did something you’d never expect. He brought you to an amusement park, took you to dinner, and then confessed to you with thousands of chocolate (literally). 

You both had your fair share of arguments and then makeup sex. Mind-blowing sex to be exact. 

Your relationship with Taehyung was built on trust. He’d be there waiting for you every time you came home late and vice versa. You’d be at all of his games. You’d go to every party, hang out with your friends.

Once he graduated, he’d wait to pick you up every day. Every day you’d go to your favorite café, with your friends, complete assignments and projects, argue about who won the last UNO game, girls vs boys. 

He spent every hour with you when you struggled with your dream job and you did the same. When you finally did get the job, he asked you to marry him. You nodded then and there. Tears escaped, phone calls were made. Everyone came to the engagement party and then the wedding and you truly thought everything you ever wanted was there. Your family, your friends, his friends, him. 

But what you didn’t know then was what followed after. Just like promises are made, they are broken. Trust is broken and the bond doesn’t stay. 

The first two years were bliss. You went to Paris for your honeymoon and then to New York. Yes, New York for your honeymoon. You experienced the love in Paris and the rush in New York. 

You spent most of the days in Paris, going to spots of attractions, enjoying the food in the café, walking around the streets drunk and completely in love, having late night sex, morning sex,  just lots of sex to be exact. 

But in New York, you spent your days going to Times Square, Bars, and Pubs had ‘the’ New York pizza and cheesecakes and hotdogs and whatnot. Went shopping and sightseeing. Roamed around the streets at night, met so many people.

You believed you had found what you had been looking for all your life. Someone to go to romantic dinners and the craziest parties with.  

But what followed was something you didn’t think would happen. Every marriage has its ups and downs. You had to. But then it started.

Every party would become an excuse to start arguments, every late night at work would lead to assumptions. At first, you thought it would be fine. Talking would help, it was always the key for the both of you but lately, every time you spoke or tried to solve the issues, it would end in huge fights, sometimes followed by sex, or even if not sex, you’d stop talking to each other and then one day pretend nothing happened. 

Although in heels you walked around the park near your apartment. ‘It will be fine’ you told yourself as you tried not to break down. Deciding it would not be a good idea to go anywhere at that hour, you sat by a bench.

The cold wind hit you as a shiver ran down your body, the thin wine slip dress doing nothing to stop it. The screen of your phone lit up as you saw multiple texts from Taehyung. A part of you was happy that he cared enough to text you. You clicked on his profile as a series of texts came up.

Tae: where are you?

Tae: come on Y/N, don’t be stupid. 

Tae: it’s really late. where the fuck are you?

Tae: baby, you’re scaring me. 

Sighing you got up and made your way out of the park. Since you lived in a complex, it didn’t take you too long to walk. As you opened the keys, you saw Taehyung pacing around the living room. “Where are my keys?” he muttered to himself, not noticing your presence. 

A clinking sound made Taehyung look up as the keys hit the ceramic bowl on the kitchen top. “Where were you?” he asked, trying to control his anger. You didn’t answer him as you took off the heels, internally sighing when the cold floor hit your barefoot. “Are you seriously gonna ignore me? I asked where the fuck were you?” he pulled you by your wrists stopping you from going further. “Don’t do this.” you gritted through your teeth as you harshly pulled away before going inside your shared bedroom. 

You slipped out of the dress and you got inside the shower, the hot water touching your skin as you stood there. No matter how much you tried not to think about it, you always went back. Where did it go wrong? 

You changed into shorts and one of Taehyung’s oversized shirts as it reached mid-thigh. Getting inside the covers, you relaxed, the cool sensation of your bedsheet and covers calming you somehow as you turned towards the glass wall. 

You heard a sigh as Taehyung got inside the room. He got inside the covers and stared at your back as you tried to keep calm. You felt an arm wrap around your waist as he pulled you closer, back colliding with his chest, nuzzling his face at the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” his voice came muffled as you felt the vibrations on your neck. 

“I really am.” he said, taking a deep breath pulling you closer if that was possible. You sighed, turning to him. 

“I felt really cheap, you know” you said, hands reaching to cup his face. “I’m so sorry baby.” he sighed, closing his eyes as you ran your hand through his hair. “I know.” 

He pressed a kiss on your lips as you pulled him closer, hands wrapping around his neck. You sighed into the kiss as his lips trailed down towards your collarbone, sucking and nipping then. Soon enough he was inside you as he went on an animalistic pace. “Do you think he can fuck you like this?” he growled. You ignored him as you knew you were close, focusing on your climax. You came within the next few minutes as he rubbed your clit while thrusting.

Later on, he lapped up the spilled contents lazily as you screamed his name, your cries stroking his ego.

He wrapped an arm around your naked waist as he fell asleep on his stomach, head on your chest, legs tangled over your naked ones. You stroked his hair as you stared at the ceiling, his words ringing in your ear ‘Do you think he can fuck you like this?’

A small realization crept inside your head. He was never gonna trust you.

He stirred in his sleep, pulling you closer, he pressed an open-mouth kiss above the swell of your breast in his sleep. Releasing a long sigh, you kissed his head, quickly pushing the thought aside. 

That was the first mistake. 

“I love you so much,” you said. 

You pulled the robe over your body tightly, a coffee cup in your hand. Picking up your phone you looked at the time. 3:08 am it read. The city still buzzed with life. The cold breeze hit your face soothingly as you closed your eyes. Only if you had done something before, things wouldn’t have gone wrong. 

4 months ago

Your phone buzzed as you frustratedly rubbed your face. You dreaded picking up the call, not wanting to have to shout again. Things had been gradually worsening between you and Taehyung. Late-night fights, coming home drunk, not talking to each other for weeks had become a common thing nowadays and no matter how hard you tried, no matter how many times you both tried to co-operate, you didn’t seem to escape it.

“You should talk to him.” Ae-ra said, handing you a cup of tea. 

Tea. 

You never liked tea. You were more of a coffee person. You preferred the rush, the adrenaline. But nowadays, you were tired. Tired of doing the same thing over and over again. Having the same quarrels and fights over and over again. Tea seemed to calm you. 

“And then what? Get into another fight?” 

“You know what I mean, babe.” She said as she rubbed your arm soothingly.

“Maybe later. I cannot deal with him now.” you sipped on the cup.

What you didn’t know was that “later” would come that fast. You went back to your apartment to get more of your clothes. You planned on going at night, when he was most probably out with his friends or whoever kept him busy nowadays. But to your surprise, he was there. 

You opened the main door, using the key you had with you to meet with his laying figure on the couch. His head shot up at the sound of the door, eyes meeting each other. He looked drained, hair messy and bags under his eyes. You cursed under your breath, debating if you should just go back to Ae-ra’s place and come later for your clothes. 

“Look who’s here.” he scoffed as he got up from the couch.

Deciding on the former, you walked past him without taking another glance, into your shared bedroom. Taking a bag out, you shoved as many clothes as possible wanting to stay away from this mess. “Are you gonna ignore me now?” you heard him as he entered the room. 

You zipped up the chain as you walked towards the door wanting to leave. He grabbed your hand before you could go any further. He felt so scared when he saw you packing your stuff, so much that it suffocated him. “Fucking answer me.” his voice raised as he stared at you. 

Taehyung’s eyes softened as he saw the dry tears on your cheeks and he wanted nothing more than to pull you close and never let go. To talk to you and tell you it would be fine, that you would figure it out together. 

As he saw your tired eyes, glossy as you tried to keep your composure, he wanted to kiss you so badly and keep you tucked away from every bad thing; ever, even himself if he was bad for you.

And maybe he would have done that. Hugged you and kissed you. Kept you in his arms if you didn’t start talking. 

“Leave me the fuck alone.” you pulled away harshly. “You know what? Yes, I am ignoring you and gladly will.” 

“What is wrong with you? You cannot just come and go like that.” he said, hands gesturing to your bag.

“I can and I will. You cannot stop me” you clarified.

“ Yes, I can. I am your husband for god’s sake.” a frustrated tone laced his words.

“Husband?” you scoffed. “When were you a good husband? Where did this go when I stayed up till dawn every day waiting for you?” 

“You know how hectic things have been at work.” he looked at you knowingly. 

“That doesn’t mean you’d stop spending time with me!” you yelled.

You knew you were being unreasonable. Things really were hectic at work for him. But you couldn’t help but feel lonely when you came home after a long day to an empty and cold apartment and then stayed up every day almost all night for your husband. You felt so neglected when he’d come home and go to sleep straight away without saying anything. 

All the doubts about your marriage slowly were coming true and you wanted nothing more than to prove it wrong. But talking about it led to arguments with Taehyung. So you decided to stay away from home, so that you didn’t have to think about it, to begin with. 

That was the second mistake. 

“You are going nowhere.” Taehyung took the bag from your hand and walked towards the bed. “You’ll stay at home.”

“Home?” a humorless chuckle left your throat. “I will go anywhere I want, but home.” 

“I mean it Y/N. Stop acting like a kid. Go wash up and come to bed.” he sighed. 

“I’m not staying” you concluded, ready to leave your stuff behind as you turned. 

You felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist as he stuffed his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder. A tear left your eyes, followed by streams, and for some reason, your heart broke, it felt like he was pulling you apart from inside. 

You felt his warm breath as he mumbled something. He pressed you towards him as you silently cried. 

Later that night, as he fucked you slowly, something different than his usual dominating aura, your heart ached, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. He kissed you ever so passionately, that you cried. 

Something told you that it would be over soon, so you hugged him as close as you could when he slept. You cried as he hugged you in his sleep like you would go away if he didn’t have you in his arms. 

“I love you so much,” he mumbled in his sleep.

That’s when you realized how bad the entire situation was. How bad you were for him just like he was for you. How bad this marriage was. 

And what followed after confirmed everything you ever doubted. 

2 months ago

“You think I didn’t see you?” you yelled. 

“What are you talking about?” he looked curious. 

“Oh sure, play the good guy, make me look bad, why don’t you?” you scoffed.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” he repeated. “How would you? You thought you were good enough to keep it away from me.” you said. His eyebrows crashed as he tried to understand. “I saw you with her. Maybe that’s why you were always late. You were too busy fucking her.” a bitterness stayed in your mouth. “Are you kidding me?” he said as he raked his fingers through his hair. 

“You are accusing me of cheating, Y/N? You?” he scoffed. “Don’t think I forgot about the party.” 

“Oh my god. You were never going to believe me, were you?” you looked at him with a glint in your eyes. 

“You are being paranoid Y/N,” he said calmly. 

“You know what? Maybe I will go to him. The guy you accused me of cheating. Maybe I will let him fuck me. Clear all your doubts and make it true!” you were screaming now. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, voice so calm maybe you would have been scared if you were thinking straight. 

“Neither can I.” you said as you walked out of the house. 

The next day when you woke up, you felt bad for yelling at him. So you decided to go back and talk to him. And maybe you would have if fate didn’t have anything else planned. 

As you walked into the house, you saw a man sitting on your couch, Taehyung at his side as paper lay in front of him. The man looked at you briefly before turning back to Taehyung. “Thank you for coming on such short notice, Mr. Lee.” he said as he shook hands with the man. The man nodded. 

Before leaving, he looked at you, “See you in court.” 

You furrowed your brows before realization hit you. “Tae, what did he mean by that?” 

He kept quiet as he gathered the papers. “Baby, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” you tried again. Taehyung got up as he handed you the papers, then went to the bedroom. You stared at them as you couldn’t process anything. 

You cannot get divorced. You cannot live without him.  

You walked inside the room as you saw him looking out. “Tae, we can talk, right? You don’t mean this.” your voice shook. 

Walking up to him you wrapped your arms around his, face buried in his back as you mumbled “This is a joke, right?” 

You heard his sigh before he turned to you, eyes glossy. “We can’t keep doing this.”

“We won’t. We’ll figure it out. We don’t have to do this.” you went on. 

“Y/N-”

“No, no, you don’t understand. You are out of your mind. We can’t get divorced.”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot do this anymore.” he said,

You looked at him. “Why are you saying it as if it is all my fault?” 

“I don’t mean that.”

“You absolutely mean that. Your face says it all.” you gestured toward him. “Oh. You really are gonna do this?” you said as he rubbed his face. 

“Well, fuck you, Kim Taehyung. You can do whatever you want. You can blame me all you want but you and I both know the minute I walk out, you are going to regret this.” 

“You can keep going for my heart and put all this on me, but you will miss me to your bone the minute this is over.” you said as you stormed off. 

That night, you went back to Ae-ra’s place. You screamed at the sky pretending it was him while he stayed awake that night as he looked at the sky. “I’m so sorry Y/N. I love you so much” he said, tears freely falling.

It really was over. All your doubts came true. Your marriage ended. Maybe it was for the better. ‘You’re being paranoid’ he said. He was right. You became paranoid.

You wiped the single tear and looked at the sky, soft light spread across as the birds sang. 5:00 am

You picked out the attire you were going to wear to the court. Your phone buzzed as you picked it up. It was Ae-ra. It’s gonna be okay. You’ll get through it. she said.

You went to the court that day. You watched him as he entered the room, a black tux hugging his frame. He had become more buff than he was the last time you saw him two months ago. As he ran his fingers through his hair, his shoulder blades flexed. The same shoulder blades that had your nail marks reminding the night before from every morning you’ve spent together. You smiled at that memory. 

Soon the judge walked in and the process went on. 

At one point in your relationship with him, assuming was something you both picked up. Long gone was the trust which was the key in your relationship. Maybe it was for the better. You both were paranoid; assumptions feeding more into it. 

But what you both gradually became, was bad for each other. Not at the beginning of your relationship, but somewhere in the middle, it went out of hand. Maybe if you spoke to each other more, maybe if you hadn’t pushed your thoughts the first day it came, then maybe you wouldn’t be here. But everything happens for a reason. 

Kim Taehyung was the heartthrob of the campus. Kim Taehyung was the first person you confessed you loved. He was the first person who heard ‘I love you’ from you. He was your first love. 

As the saying goes, some people are in our lives, just to teach us a lesson. Good and Bad. Kim Taehyung was that for you. You were still in love with him. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and yours did. You loved him more than you did before. And so maybe letting him go was easy. You were bad for him and he was bad for you. But that didn’t stop you from loving him.

And that didn’t stop him from loving you as you sat at the courthouse, as he looked at your face when it was over, as he lay in his bed alone that night.

Maybe you weren’t meant to be. Or maybe you were, but you didn’t know-how. But it was fine. And maybe as time goes by, it would hurt less. 

Although you and Taehyung didn’t believe in first and second lives, you both wished you’d find each other in the next life as you both looked at the sky that night. 

taglist: @mwitsmejk​

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Mortal of Gold - Part 3

(Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Anyone want my list of the characters as gods? There were a few characters that I couldn't think of like Ponk, so I just left them out. ANYWAY. Hi, how's it going? ALSO I CANT EDIT THIS DAMN POST AND THE SPELLING ERRORS ARE SO IRRITATING

Part 1 Part 2 TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please. ------- “They weren’t born… A mortal?”

A light wind brushed over your features, causing you to give a small sigh and roll over onto your side in an attempt to block the light from hitting your lidded eyes. It was nice and quiet for once… “(Y/n)?” A distorted voice echoed softly, causing you to flinch a bit. You opened your eyes slightly to see a silky blackbird sitting on the sheets beside you, a few golden trinkets laying beside it. Upon seeing your eyes slide open, the creature hopped up onto its legs and began making soft cooing noises, “(Y/n)! (Y/n), you’re awake!” Glancing around at the surroundings you had been placed in, racking your mind for any sort of familiarity but failing to come up with anything at all, even who you were. You sat up, slowly brushing your fingers along your ombre silk clothing before putting your hands on the sheets below your body, frowning as you didn’t recognize the bed as yours. “Hello…” You murmured softly, reaching your hand out to the crow who eagerly jumped forward to nuzzle your hand. The feathers of the bird felt… Odd. They felt more like grabbing at misty fog, but with a light staticky cotton texture that caused a buzzing sensation on your fingertips, “I’m sorry, my memory… Seems to be a tad faulty… Could you tell me your name?” “I’m Chat, Dadza- er… Philza’s familiar! I was a gift from Mumza, oops... Kristen, the Goddess of Void and Death.” It chirped, its voice having multiple layers in your head, causing you to shake your head a slight bit, “No, they’re not married, only parental figures to the souls that pass on to the afterlife or those they saved sometime before they passed on… I believe they have more of a co-worker relationship.” You nodded slightly, pursing your lips at how the creature’s voice sounded in your mind. It was unsettling and caused shivers to crawl up and down your back, but at the same time, it was incredibly calming and had a soothing aura. How that worked, you had no clue whatsoever. Brushing off the unsettling voice of the bird, you decided to focus on the name that caused a light to go off in your head, “Alright… Philza… I think I remember that name…” “Yeah! Dadza- Eck… Sorry. Phil, he’s the God of Survival and Crows! He controls not only every crow in the mortal land, but he also controls whether or not someone will survive a situation. If there is no way that the mortal can survive, he will send a crow down and have them guide the soul of the mortal to him! Then he escorts them to Kristen! He has gained the name Angel of Death because he works for Mumza!” You decided not to question why the crow called Philza and Kristen Mumza and Dadza, knowing that you’d probably find out later, but by the sound of it Chat seemed to be multiple children, “Okay… Makes sense…” You mumbled slowly, nodding your head up and down. With a sigh you slowly brought your legs over to the side of the bed, only now becoming aware of how large the soft mattress was. Lowlands! (Hell) You could probably fit six people who were ten feet tall in it with room to roam! Pushing yourself off the bed, you also realized how high the beautiful bed was off the floor, Gods, whoever lived here was tall! Behind you, you heard a small chirp, and you saw Chat watching you curiously. With a small shrug, you decided to pick the familiar up and hold it in your cupped hands as you walked out the door, “Oooh! Dadza never carries us like this, and Technoblade does only when he’s about to yeet us out a window!” “Yeet?” You scowled in confusion as you walked through the arched doorway, your bare feet padding silently on the quartz flooring, “I'm scared to ask. Technoblade? Is he also a god of some things? He sounds familiar as well…” “That’s its word for throwing something. Well, it yells the word when they throw something or get thrown, so I assume it’s yelling in excitement,” A deep voice spoke from in front of you, causing you to gasp and lift your head from the crow. The telepathic chirping and squeaks from Chat in your mind quickly formed the name Technoblade, so… You had a feeling that your answer was on its way past his

lips, “I’m Technoblade, or Techno, the God of Blood and War. It’s… nice to see you finally awake…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet as you curiously studied him. His appearance could certainly be described as godly if anyone asked you. His long pink hair was mostly twisted and tied into a braid with bits of golden chain and a polished golden crown adorned with rubies, garnets and diamonds. Upon his pale skin, dozens of scars of varying sizes decorated his skin in different areas, but they were displayed in an almost proud manner. Almost. When he spoke, his dark pink eyes hidden behind cracked glasses searched your form for any sort of injury, “I’m… (Y/n)... I think. I don’t know if this bird is exactly trustworthy in its information… Do you know where I am?” Techno snorted as Chat gave an offended squawk at your statement, “That’s very fair, to be honest. You’re in the Tundra of the Upperlands, and this is my palace. No there is no snow, I believe the person who named this place has never looked into the name or word Tundra, but it’s been like this for too long to change it-” He paused for a moment as he noticed you looking extremely confused, “Ah. Right. Desert. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh… Okay…” You frowned at the tusked male for a moment before shaking your head, deciding not to question it much, “Now, uh… How did I get here, and why don’t I remember anything about myself? Or, about you and this Philza guy, I was told about.” You lifted Chat slightly toward Techno as a silent indication that Chat was the one who told you about Phil. “That’s uh… Phil’s field of expertise.” He rubbed the back of his head with his black-tipped fingers before adjusting his crown, “I don’t understand much of what happened, and Phil will tell you what you need to know that will keep you safe.” Hesitantly, he held his free hand out towards you making you realize that he was easily over seven and a half feet tall, “C’mon, I’ll take you to him and get you the answers you need.” His hand was extremely steady, you noticed as you stared down at it cautiously. Once you noticed that he didn’t seem to want to do you harm, you slowly shifted Chat into one hand and used your free hand to take the one extended to you, which you couldn’t help but notice, made Technoblade very happy, “Okay. Thank you.” The god held your hand in his calloused one for a few moments before beginning to lead you down the tan and white hallways that were turned a light golden hue from the rising sun. It was quite a long walk filled with a slightly uncomfortable silence, but you distracted yourself by looking around the palace curiously. It was obvious he was the God of War by how many swords hanging on walls and sets of armour he had placed on armour stands in the hallways. Eventually, he walked you through an archway that led into a wide-open room with multiple windows that had many crows perched on the windowsills, some chirping and singing some little tune in perfect unison while others shuffled around, seeming to do a little dance. You were quick to realize the whistling of one of the birds didn’t match up and noticed that it was coming from the man with the large white and green striped hat as well as massive black feathered wings dangling on his back, fluffing themselves up every so often. When you and Techno stepped in, the blackbirds started chirping loudly, losing the rhythm of the tune the winged man was whistling as Chat started telepathically squealing about… 2/4? Two out of four what? “Ah!” The hat-wearing male turned around and clasped his hands together upon seeing you standing up, “(Y/n), you’re awake. I was worried the injuries you sustained were enough to keep you out cold for a few more weeks. I’m glad to see I was wrong. I’m Philza, God of Survival and Crows, and I see you’ve met Chat and Techno. Pesky bird, I told it not to wake you...” You pursed your lips for a moment, analyzing the shorter god as the bird squealed out its protests. While he was shorter than Techno, he was certainly tall, standing roughly around six feet tall, his wingspan

probably double that for each wing! His blonde hair was long around his face but was pulled into a loose braid like Techno’s was, although instead of gold intertwined into his hair, it was silver. His outfit was made up of a loose green shirt and black pants, with a red heart-shaped pendant dangling off of a chain into the center of his chest. Why did that pendant… Look familiar? You slowly rose your hand up and clasped at the pendant around your neck, noticing how Philza smiled softly, “Technoblade… Said you could tell me why I can’t remember anything?” “You’re still wearing my gift, I see,” Philza gave a soft hum as Chat jumped from your hand and onto his shoulder, before gesturing for you and Techno to take a seat where he already had drinks and some form of cakes set out, but they certainly weren’t there when you came in. Upon seeing your confused blinking, he gave a soft laugh, “I’m a god, mate, magic is no difficult task for me, let alone creating some measly tea and desserts. Now, sit down and I will tell you everything…” - General - None Mortal of Gold -@generalalmond @binas-idea-vault @ohworm-writes