#something comes and crashes in the same place…

[chososcutie]

AT THE SAME DAMN TIME .ᐟ

summary. when a vampire and a werewolf in rut on a full moon find you, a lost hiker stranded in the woods one stormy night, you find yourself in the midst of the eiffel tower of a century, pun intended.

featuring. werewolf!gojo x fem!reader x vampire!geto

word count. 3k

content. mdni fem!reader, werewolf!gojo, vampire!geto, dubcon, slight fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, petnames, degrading, bloodsucking, biting, oral (m!receiving), hickeys, doggy style, threesome, knotting, possessiveness, spitting, big dicks, grinding, cursing

author's note. this is all pure horny, disgusting smut i wrote in between breaks for my new fic coming out!

an owl hoots overhead, the sound low and foreboding, twigs cracking under your every step.

you glance at the black night sky, and the rumble of thunder moving in quickly, rain already hitting your warm skin in fat droplets that threaten a hard downpour soon to come.

shit.

how had it gotten to this point again?

oh right, your stupid idea of a hike through one of the most deserted places on earth had delved from a light-hearted afternoon walk into a nightmare when you found yourself going in circles, dazed and lost as a stormy night crept closer.

you had tried to call a number that would alert any nearby park rangers or the police, but your phone, battery dead and useless proved to be no help whatsoever.

and now, with a full moon beaming down on you and the rustling of bushes near you, you were out of ideas.

you come to a stop, your back hitting a tree trunk with a loud thump! as you slide down it in defeat.

the only chance of survival you had was to wait it out until morning when people came out to the trails again, and the storm passed, and just as you’re pondering where you could find shelter, a low growl far too close to you as well as heavy-sounding footsteps sound beside you.

“h-hello?” you call uncertainly, your head whipping left and right in the hopes of spotting whatever it was. “is anyone there?”

in response, something snarls, louder than any of the other noises you had been hearing tonight, its hot breath practically fanning across your neck in its closeness.

you turn your head in horror just in time to come face-to-face with a huge white werewolf, its frosty azure eyes big and unblinking, maw slack with lascivious drool pouring down, and sharp fangs glinting ominously.

crash!

thunder, loud and booming, shakes the ground and it’s then that you bolt, with no sense of direction only cold fear to guide you, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you run from the monster-like being, his footsteps hard on your trail.

he's snapping at your heels and growling ferociously as rain begins to pour down, absolutely drenching you with your shirt clinging to your figure like a second skin and your hair plastered across your forehead.

you gasp and pant, and just as you're starting to lose hope, bumbling blindly through the sheets of icy rain coming down hard and chilling you to the bone, you see it.

a cave, with not much to look at other than a slight overhang above it, all gray slated rock and darkness on the inside.

normally, you would be suspicious of such a cave, opting to investigate it a little further before heading in, but all rational parts of your brain disappear as you dart into the mouth of it, your clothes dripping wet and your breathing harsh.

it's only when you collapse onto the floor in a tired, soaked heap, breathing heavily and trying to calm yourself down, thinking that the entrance of the cave would be too small for the bulk of the monster outside to fit through, that you realize you're not alone.

because hanging upside down in the darkness that the cave provides, a blinking eyed bat stares back at you, slowly transforming right in front of your eyes into a tall, looming man, one with fangs jutting out below his lip and lazy, monolidded eyes that flick up and down your figure absently.

"who dares rouse me from my eternal slumber?" he crosses his arms across his chest with a scowl, all ashy pale skin and sunken undereyes.

"who are you?" you try to scramble backwards away from him, but he's quicker, dropping to his knees and pulling you into him by your legs.

he smirks at the small gasp you let out, and the involuntary shudder at the feel of his ice cold fingers dancing lightly along your thighs. "i believe i asked you a question first, love."

you stare back at him, breathless for a moment, your lips trembling as you manage to stutter out a response. "i-i got lost in the woods, and something was chasing me. i'm sorry, i didn't know this was your cave, i'll leave."

and just as you begin to stand up, he pulls you right back, his fangs creeping out. "ah ah, not so fast."

your breath catches, fear making your heart thump painfully in your chest as you try to force yourself to think.

what should you do?

his grip on you is tight and as he leans in closer, soft breath ghosting over the sensitive skin on your neck, you feel your skin prickle, managing to choke out a weak, "what are you doing?"

he smiles against your skin, allowing you to feel the sharpness of his fangs as they press against you, not quite biting yet but just there. "why, you're mine now, pet. my prey. my victim. thy fate is sealed."

he slowly opens his mouth, his hot, wet tongue coming to sweep across your pulse point and just as he's about to sink in, a loud howl is heard, followed by quick, skittering footsteps, or rather paw steps.

the same werewolf from before, with pure white fur and a lashing tail skids to a stop in front of you and the man, panting furiously, his cerulean blue eyes heated as he eyes you.

"she's mine, you bloodthirsty bastard! get off her!" he comes to separate you two, though not without the black-haired man's low curse as he rises once more to his full height, eyeing the wolf with a look of contempt.

"goddamnit gojo, you filthy mutt! what are you doing?"

gojo snarls in reply, coming to press against you from behind, staring at geto with a hint of a challenge in his frosty eyes. "i found her first. why do you think she came running in here?"

you can only swallow as your eyes rove between the two, wondering what was going to happen to you.

the fear had begun to wear off though, replaced with a low curling heat in the bottom of your tummy. they were both unfairly attractive men, and it was no surprise your eye was drawn to the chubbed bulge straining in geto's leathery pants or the way you felt gojo's swollen, hefty cock right up against your back.

"yeah? and why is it that you need her so desperately?"

and it's then that you feel the way gojo is pushing his hips forward, humping you ever so slightly as if he can't control himself, his breathing soft and whimpery as he suddenly bucks into you, desperate.

this doesn't go unnoticed by geto, whose eyes slowly follow the drag of his hot, weeping cock up and down your back, his raven eyes snapping back up to gojo with a snort. "you're in heat."

he says it like a statement, not a question, and at this, gojo's head falls onto your shoulder with a drawn-out groan, his breaths puffing feverishly out against you as any restraint he had snaps, furiously rutting against you and pushing your body slightly forward with every grind.

"yes! fuck, m'in heat!" he grits out. "now, can ya help me out here?"

geto, after flicking a strand of his long, black hair out of his face, pauses, his lips curving up just for a second as if something had crossed his mind.

"i think i have a way we can both get what we want." he practically purrs as he comes to a crouch in front of you, tilting your chin up to meet the burning intensity of his gaze. "but it's going to require you to be a good little pet for us, hm? can you do that?"

you find yourself nodding along eagerly, biting your lip as geto's cool hands curl around your thighs, spreading them open wide for gojo, who eagerly shifts, ripping your drenched panties aside with a rrrrip! of fabric.

you're facing gojo, and laying back on geto, with your head on his shoulder, his fingers beginning to work their way up your neck, pausing every now and then to feel your pulse points.

he chuckles darkly. "your pulse is jumping, sweet thing. ya excited to feel satoru's big cock stretching you?"

you nod weakly, slumped back on his chest, your breaths heaving as satoru begins to smear your gushing slick around your entrance with the reddened, veiny head of his cock, his tip bumping your puffy clit as he grinds in between your folds slightly.

your breath catches in a soft moan and suguru hums against your neck in approval, tongue laving hot, wet trails of saliva to drip down generously.

your plush thighs, sprawled apart and waiting, twitch slightly as experimentally, satoru pushes a couple thickened inches inside your hot, clamping walls.

the stretch is almost too much as you squeeze your eyes shut, gojo grunting above you as he tries to slowly fit himself all the way into your spasming cunt.

geto hushes you softly, cooing praises as one hand comes down to toy with your pulsing clit, rubbing tight little circles as his mouth busies itself on your sensitive neck, sucking purpleish hickeys across the expanse of it.

and when satoru finally bottoms out inside you with a whine, he's immediately rocking into you with fervor as his cock seems to only swell, his knot inflating and bumping your twitchy nub with every small movement— while you squirm and let out little cries of pleasure, suguru cradling you closer as his sucking turns more intense.

it's then that you feel the first graze of his teeth, featherlight but there, just barely a nibble across your flesh.

“hah.. fuck!” you reach up, tangling your fingers in geto’s long hair, pressing his head down harder against your neck as you moan breathily from the added sensation of his fangs scraping across you coupled with satoru’s almost frantic thrusts.

“slow down satoru,” geto murmurs hazily from your neck, almost as if whispering it to himself. “our pet is fragile.”

he lets out a desperate grunt in response, the hefty weight of his balls smacking against your ass as he angles himself to hit deep inside you to your cushy, sweet spot, the one that never fails to make you see stars.

your eyes roll back and it’s then that you feel suguru’s fangs bury themselves deep into your neck, the sharp prick fading to a pleasurable sting as he breathes in your scent with a satisfied groan rumbling deep into his chest.

satoru’s fat cock, with its bumpy veins and girth was edging you closer and closer to release with every sharp piston of his slim hips in and out of you, and now as it bumped your cervix repeatedly with sappy precum flooding out of the head, your mouth hung open with drool beginning to pour out with every shocking smack!

you weren't going to last much longer, and with a cry of, "satoru!" his thrusting turns more intense, his fluffy ears twitching frantically above his head as his dick throbs deep inside you.

and then, you feel it.

nothing more than a bump at first, his achingly swollen knot, just barely brushing your sappy folds.

but then more, as his fat, rotund knot begins to swivel n' push its way inside, shoving all of it past your tight, drooling heat with a drawn-out groan.

it pulsates weakly, halfway in and stretching your pussy lips obscenely around its sheer girth, and you tip your head back further onto suguru's shoulder with a keen, where he's still buried into your neck, simply just breathing you in.

"wan' it, 'toru!" you moan mindlessly, spreading your legs further as your whole body trembles and squirms. "want your knot!"

satoru's whole body jerks in response, his hips stuttering and more sloshes of hot, oozing precum gushing out of his furiously red blushing cock, zigzagging veins massaging your plush walls with every calculated stroke of his.

your skin was sizzling with heat, and your stomach had begun to curl into tight little knots, tears pricking at your lash line from how close you were to tipping over the edge and you mewl, clawing at gojo's toned hips in an effort to draw him impossibly closer.

your release is so close you can practically taste it, your every muscle tensed and coiled while you find yourself bucking back into gojo's sloppy thrusts, drool beginning to pour down your chin— and it's at that exact moment that geto rears his head back and bites hard, fangs sucking filthily upon your neck as if it were a lifeline, that you find yourself cumming.

your jaw falls slack in a silent cry, your orgasm exploding through you so intensely you can't even react other than the jolting of your hips up as you clench and milk satoru's thick cock whilst spraying your gushing release all along his abdominals.

you were squirting— so much of it that it was just flooding out of you, soaking satoru entirely in your honeyed essence.

his white tufted happy trail was dragging along your pussy back n' forth as he huffs feverishly before the raw, lewd plop! of his hot n' heavy knot being bullied into you seems to resound, the filthy wet squelches your cunt was making in response making you wriggle helplessly.

and then he's throwing his head back and cumming, the sight so utterly sinful as creamy wads of ivory sap are spurting deep inside your walls, ribbons n' ribbons of it until it's too much, and even then he can't stop, halfheartedly rutting into you as endless amounts steadily pulse into you.

geto groans, the sound low and reverberating through you as he continues taking pull after pull of your thick, warm blood, the feeling almost orgasmic as he draws it out of you slow, your eyes rolling back with the pleasurable ache.

but soon enough, you find yourself feeling lightheaded and with a weak protest from geto, manage to pull him off, his eyes half-cracked open and hazy with pleasure, crimson droplets dribbling down the corners of his lips which he quickly licks off.

gojo's still cumming, pink sheened lips dropped open and cerulean eyes clouded with lust, and you watch geto's head laze in a downward angle to bring your attention to the massive, rock hard bulge in his pants, twitching for any ounce of attention you were willing to give.

"you gonna help me out too, doll?" he drawls, amusement in his gaze as your breath catches at the sheer size of him when he slooowly drags his pants down his hips to let his cock slap against his stomach, curved and pierced at the frenulum.

he was.. pierced?

he stands up, pants half unzipped and turns your body toward him, gojo's large palms sliding over your hips to flip you onto your hands and knees, knot still firmly planted in place as he starts slowly dragging his cock in little rocking thrusts.

geto tilts your chin upward, smirking and tucks a bit of your hair behind your ears. his hand gently strokes your cheek, and as you gaze up at him with a whimper, growls out a, "open your mouth for me, pet."

you do obediently, and watch as he leans over you, letting a thick, silvery wad of spit sultrily drip down onto your tongue, your mouth instantly closing to swallow.

as you do, he shifts, one big hand wrapping around the thickened base of himself to drag his weepy cock along your lips, salty precum already streaking down your chin.

you slightly part your lips, only for geto to push just the fat, bulbous tip of his cock in between, groaning as your warm, wet mouth engulfs him.

gojo pants from behind, his big hands coming to rest on the curve of your waist, his breathing ragged as he furiously humps into you as much as he can with his swollen knot stretching your pussy lips wide, his seed dribbling out occasionally.

geto groans, a hand coming to tangle itself in your hair and pulling you down hard until his plump, globed tip is bruising the back of your throat, making you choke around him with a small moan, drool trickling down the corners of your lips.

he taps your cheek gently, as if to check on you, and you nod slightly, your eyes glassy with tears from all the stimulation as gojo's veined girth swats around your insides, absolutely pouring helpings of precum into you to add on to his mess from earlier.

and what happens next is something you can't prepare yourself for— satoru's big hand raises itself above the curve of your ass and then comes down in a harsh smack!

geto chuckles, pulling you further down on his cock with a tug on your hair until tears are streaming down your face and you're gagging on the length of him.

smack!

again, and again he spanks your plump, jiggling ass, mouth watering as he watches you, feeling the way your walls clench and spasm around him in preparation.

then suguru starts up a brutal pace, fucking into your mouth with abandon, his head thrown back and baring his adam's apple as it bobs in a swallow, muttering curses as you bob your head slightly to take more, your tongue working in quick flicks below his sensitive head and running along the cool metal of his piercing.

meanwhile, satoru's hips are snapping ruthlessly behind you, causing you to ping-pong between them as they both use you to chase their pleasure, your back arching as you shudder, pussy clenching down hard as your stomach tenses up.

you were close to cumming for the second time tonight, and satoru seemed to take notice, because this time when he raises his hand again, it's positioned directly over your puffy, throbbing clit, coming down in a wet thwack! that has you seeing stars and cumming so hard you think you black out for a second.

your thighs tremble and drench themselves in your own syrupy slick while you squirm desperately, your muffled moans and cries sending vibrations straight to suguru's dick.

and then you feel it. the musky tang of his cum filling up your mouth while he makes a noise caught between a moan and a whine, spurting so messily until it dribbles down your chin, his cock twitching with every webbed, ivory wad of seed he spills out.

and then with one last drag of his hot, bulging shaft, gojo also cums, loudly and messily with pools n' pools of white spilling down your thighs in rivulets and a moan that echoes throughout the empty cave, bouncing off the walls until it's all you can hear, your body trembling and spent.

your eyes shutter closed briefly, and distantly, you feel hands moving you, almost reverently, like you were their new shiny toy and they didn't want to break you— yet.

a hot, eager tongue laps at your thighs, cleaning up the mess streaking down between them, tender gentle strokes that focus on precision rather than overstimulating you further.

and when you're all cleaned up, you find yourself laid out flat, propped up against gojo whose ears twitch, his tail curling around your waist as he nuzzles into you, and geto who lies between your legs, his head on your thigh almost lazily.

you sigh, your eyes beginning to droop, tired, but before you can succumb to slumber, you hear geto's voice speaking to you in a murmur.

"you know you're going to be staying with us now, right?"

"why's that?" you say sleepily.

his mouth curves into a sadistic little smirk. "because you're our beloved little pet now. ours, and only ours."

©CHOSOSCUTIE. please do not plagiarize or repost my works!

a/n: this is kinda bad and a little rushed but i had to get something out

[theskywithin]

Soul Astrology-Planets in The Second House

my book is on sale for 2 more days!! link in the pinned post!

The Sun in The Second House

You came back carrying the memory of being the one everything else depended on. There was a time, not here, but close, where you learned to stay solid so others could fall apart. You became the warmth. The steadiness. The one who knew what to do when things broke. But deep inside, something quiet unraveled. Because holding everything together meant there was never time to ask: who holds me? This lifetime, the question changes. You’re not here to radiate, you’re here to root. Not to be strong, to be present. The body doesn’t want certainty. It wants consistency. It wants your breath, not your brightness. Your hunger, not your usefulness. This house teaches that safety isn’t something you give away to earn love. It’s something you build slowly, from the inside out, like warmth in your own chest that doesn’t leave when the door closes. Here, the soul unlearns the need to be the center. Not to disappear but to finally come home to the one place it always abandoned first: itself.

The Moon in The Second House

You came back with weather in your bones. Forecasting feeling before it forms, sensing shifts before they speak. Not magic, memory. A body trained to keep the peace by absorbing the storm. You called it intuition, but it was defense. You called it care, but it was compensation. In another life, you became the shelter before you ever knew what it meant to be sheltered. This time, the soul doesn’t want insight. It wants inwardness. Not the kind that flutters or waits to be needed, the kind that feeds you before anyone else asks for a piece, that lets you belong to your own tides without apology. This isn’t about sensitivity. It’s about letting the body become a container for your own emotion, not a sponge for someone else’s. You don’t need to prove you can feel. You don’t need to explain why you flinch when it’s quiet. You don’t need to mother the world to earn a place inside it. Somewhere deep in the marrow, the tide turns, not to crash, but to become your bloodstream again.

Mercury in The Second House

There’s a flicker in your system that never stops scanning, a rhythm your body remembers before your mind catches up, the kind that formed in lifetimes where knowing was the only way to stay safe, where silence held teeth, and uncertainty came with a cost. So now, thought arrives faster than breath, language rises before sensation, meaning is manufactured before feeling has a chance to speak for itself. But this time, Mercury was placed low and close, not to be fast, to be present. This time, the task isn’t to make sense of everything , it’s to stop sharpening your thoughts into protection, to stop translating your instincts into sentences before they’ve had time to root. The work now is to let your thoughts take shape in the same place your hunger does, to let language take its shoes off. Not to perform clarity, but to practice pause. To let the question sit in your hands without setting it on fire. To let meaning be slow and bodily and unfinished. You are not here to interpret yourself into safety, you are here to learn what it means to listen without leaving.

Venus in The Second House

You came back with your longing wrapped in ribbon, rehearsed into palatability, shaped into something easier to hold, not because you didn’t know how to want, but because you remembered what happened when your wanting arrived unedited. There were lives where desire had to be beautiful to be safe, where closeness meant giving until you disappeared, where you learned to turn softness into currency and affection into a form of control you couldn’t name at the time. So now your body braces around pleasure even as it reaches for it, waiting for the moment when it will be taken, taxed, or turned into a transaction. But this house speaks in a different language, one that unfolds slowly in your chest when no one is looking, the quiet permission to keep what feels good without owing it back, the trust that touch doesn’t have to dissolve you to hold you, the remembering that your tenderness was never meant to be a bargaining chip. This is not about attracting what you want, it’s about letting yourself have it without shrinking under its weight. You don’t have to beautify your needs to make them easier to love. You don’t have to give twice as much just to stay in the room. This time, the soul is learning how to stay full and stay connected without emptying itself to keep the closeness from leaving.

Mars in The Second House

You came back with movement in your mouth, with an instinct to act before asking, to reach before resting, to claim before it’s taken. Not because you’re reckless, but because you remember what it was like to hesitate and lose everything. Your body still carries the echo of urgency, the memory of a door closing just as you arrived, a need rising too late to be met. So now, the muscles brace before the hunger speaks. You want like you’re running out of time. You choose like you’re still being chased. But this house is not a battlefield. It’s a threshold, a place where effort dissolves into permission. Where wanting is not a threat to safety, but a doorway to it. Here, action is not how you survive. It’s how you stay in yourself when there’s nothing left to push against. Mars in this house is the slow unwinding of urgency. The red heat of instinct cooling into trust. The ache that no longer demands to be solved, only stayed with. You are not here to win. You are here to remember that need is not a war. And your body was never meant to be the weapon.

Jupiter in The Second House

You came back full, but uncertain how to hold it. There were lives where you equated having with deserving, where abundance was either a moral test or a divine transaction. You made meaning out of hunger because hunger was all you had and it felt safer to believe it had a purpose than to admit it was just pain. So now, you carry a nervous system that doesn’t fully trust ease. You turn simplicity into philosophy. You turn enough into a question. You look for proof that what feeds you is allowed to stay. But this house asks for something quieter. No sermon. No promise. No narrative of growth. Just this: a bite of food you don’t pray over, a home that doesn’t have to teach you anything, a pleasure that doesn’t come with an epiphany This is not the return of faith, it’s the return of gravity. It’s your soul lowering itself back into your bones until worth is not a principle, but a place you live in.

Saturn in The Second House

You came back shaped like restraint, like someone who learned to survive by holding their breath until the hunger passed, someone who remembers the sound of every door that closed too soon and still flinches when one stays open too long. There were lives where your worth had to be proven in silence, where softness came second to service, where being reliable meant being invisible. And now your body still carries the ache of unspent wanting, the tension of always waiting for permission, the bone-deep belief that ease must be earned, that joy must be delayed, that having too much means it could all be taken. But this house doesn’t ask for proof. It asks for presence, it asks you to let the weight belong to time instead of self, to let the effort fall away without fear of crumbling, to feel the ache without naming it punishment, to let worth arrive without needing to be rebuilt again and again. You are not here to carry the structure anymore, you are here to become the ground beneath it.

Uranus in The Second House

You came back with the voltage still running through you, the memory of how fast everything changed when you got too close, how the ground once loved you and then vanished, how permanence became a kind of trapdoor and closeness felt like a countdown. So, you learned to live with one foot always lifting, one hand still holding the escape hatch, and even now, your body listens for the moment when it all might fall apart, mistrusts the calm, flinches when things don’t move. But this house wants the stillness you were never taught to trust, not as stagnation but as sanctuary, not as a cage but as a room that does not collapse when you sit all the way down. This is not where you lose your freedom, it’s where you learn that staying can be just as electric. That anchoring is not the opposite of aliveness. That you do not have to shatter the thing you love to keep from being buried by it. That sometimes what the soul needs most is not escape, but a steady rhythm in the spine and a place where the sky doesn’t move.

Neptune in The Second House

You came back with the echo of having loved everything but yourself, of merging too early, offering too much, dissolving into other people’s needs until your own became untraceable. Somewhere, you learned that to be good was to disappear. That to be wanted meant to be weightless. That the more you gave away, the more you might be allowed to stay. Now, the body drifts at the edges of certainty. You touch things carefully, wondering if they’re real or about to vanish. You hesitate when comfort arrives, not because you don’t want it, but because something in you still believes that having must come with consequence, that too much presence will cost you something essential. But this house is not asking for sacrifice. It’s asking for shape. It wants your longing to land, not escape. It wants your hands around something that doesn’t slip through. It asks you to stop turning ache into offering. To stop romanticizing absence. To stop calling hunger beautiful just because it’s familiar. This is not the dissolving kind of love. This is the kind that pours slowly, stays warm, fills a body without flooding it. You are not here to disappear again. You are here to learn how to receive fully and let what stays become real enough to trust.

Pluto in The Second House

You came back with a burial ground inside you, not for what it holds, but for what it never let grow again. A kind of grief that taught the soul how to clench, how to guard, how to look at anything beautiful and brace for the breaking. Somewhere in your lineage, having became dangerous. Desire led to devastation. Stability was a setup for collapse. So now the body carries its own perimeter, instinct before ease, withdrawal before want, armor where softness should have lived. You test what you’re given, you doubt what stays. You don’t mean to, it’s just that your cells remember what the ground felt like right before it gave out. But this house is the undoing of the trapdoor. It asks you to stop rehearsing loss and start practicing weight. To let intimacy live without being interrogated. To hold something precious without watching it rot in your hands. This is not about trust as a concept, it’s about letting the body touch what it fears and not flinch. Letting value be quiet. Letting permanence be possible. You are not here to master control. You are here to learn what it means to keep what doesn't require protection, not because it’s indestructible, but because you don’t have to destroy it first to survive it.

Chiron in The Second House

You came back with the quietest kind of ache, the kind that doesn’t cry out, just clenches slightly when something good reaches for you. Somewhere in your soul’s memory, asking led to silence, and needing made you easier to leave. So you adapted, not by disconnecting from desire, but by keeping it at a distance, safe and imagined, easier to carry when it stayed unmet. Even now, your body reacts before your heart does. You feel closeness as tension, trust as a test. You’re not cold, you just remember too well what it felt like to expect something and watch it slip away. But this house holds the medicine your hands forgot how to touch. It offers nothing dramatic, nothing grand, just the slow, daily practice of letting what you need exist without shame. Letting worth arrive in the present tense. Letting the body become a place where softness doesn’t cost you anything. Healing here isn’t heroic. It’s the moment you eat the whole meal without earning it. The day you let comfort land without narrating why you’re allowed to keep it. The moment your breath deepens, not from release, but because this time receiving doesn’t feel like the beginning of the end.

Lilith in The Second House

You came back carrying the memory of what it cost to be wanted, kept, allowed in. There were lives where inclusion required you to round your edges, to silence the part of you that moved too instinctively, wanted too deeply, claimed too much. You learned to tame your appetite, you learned how to shrink without looking small, how to shape yourself into something smoother, easier to hold, easier to use. The wound here isn’t rage, it’s the quiet erosion of self-trust that happens when your body stops believing it belongs to you.Now, the work is different. This house do asks you to stay inside your form even when it’s misunderstood. To let the wild parts of you come all the way back, not as rebellion, but as restoration. Not as noise, but as knowing. You are not here to be tolerated. You are here to be whole. And wholeness, in this life, might look like letting pleasure take up space without softening it first. Might look like letting your presence be unmade, unframed, unexplained. Might feel like walking into the room without asking what part of you needs to be hidden to be held. You don’t owe anyone your erosion. You’re not here to trade pieces of yourself for peace. This time, you stay in the body like it’s already yours, not because they gave you permission, but because you never needed it.

Vertex in The Second House

You came back looking for a signal, something bright enough to remind you that you exist, something sudden enough to make the moment feel like it means something. There were lives where you only felt alive when you were being pulled toward a person, a crisis, a calling. The quiet was unbearable. The ordinary felt like erasure. So you chased crescendos and called it alignment. You mistook intensity for truth. You learned to read your worth in what disrupted you. But this time, the turning point doesn’t announce itself. It doesn’t arrive with a lesson. It arrives as stillness. As repetition, as the strange discomfort of not having to be anywhere else. The signal you’re waiting for isn’t out there. It’s inside the unremarkable, the coffee made the same way each morning. The way your body exhales when nothing is about to change. This time, you are not here to be shaken. You are here to let the quiet parts of your life count. And that is the new gravity. That is the axis you never thought would hold.

South Node in The Second House

You came back knowing how to stay steady. Not because you were at peace, because you had to be. In other lives, you learned to make safety from repetition. You built routines like fortresses. You survived by staying predictable, by keeping your needs simple, manageable, private. You mastered the art of self-containment. You learned how to provide for yourself so no one else could take anything from you. And for a while, it works. You keep things running. You hold your world together. You become someone others can rely on even as your own hunger grows harder to name. Eventually, the ache arrives: not loud, not sudden, but slow. It comes in the moments when nothing is wrong, yet something is missing. The part of you that’s tired of staying untouched. The part that wants to be altered by love, by loss, by something deeper than control. You’ve done this before, the self-reliant one, the steady one, the quiet provider who asks for nothing and receives even less. But this time, the soul is pulled toward a different edge. The North Node calls not for accumulation, but exchange. Not for stillness, but surrender. Not to survive but to let someone in far enough that survival is no longer the point. You didn’t come back to hold the world together alone. You came back to let something inside you break open and discover that what’s on the other side is not ruin, but a kind of wealth you could never hoard.

[cherrygirlfriend]

── NON-BABY BLUES ☁️

☁️ pairing: ceo!rafe x housewife!reader

☁️ summary: rafe finds out something you've been keeping from him.

☁️ warnings / tags: fluff, angst, comfort, mentions of infertility & body image issues. wc: 1.2k

☁️ author's note: another 5k celebration fic! consider this me kissing the brick before i throw it at you.

HOUSEWIFE MASTERLIST ☁️ 5K MASTERLIST

volunteering at the kindergarten you'd been enrolled in when you lived back on the cut when you were just a little girl yourself was your favorite way to spend your free time. You knew all the kids by name, all of them referring to you as 'auntie'; one of them had started it by calling you that as a joke, and somehow it just stuck.

you always brought them baked goods and gifts, reading them books, and playing games with them. spending time with kids was one of the times you were at your happiest.

"you ever think about it?" one of the kindergarten teachers, lila, a few years your senior asked, nudging your shoulder with a playful smile on her face after you'd just finished story time with the kids who'd gone off for a nap, "having some of your own. you'd be amazing at it."

you smile softly, "i have. i want a huge family one day. my husband feels the same way." "really? how many were you thinking?" "hmm, how much is a kindergarten class?" you playfully quipped, making the woman laugh.

you were buzzing with excitement as you drove home; today marked the fourteenth day since your period was supposed to start, still nowhere to be seen, and you couldn't stop thinking about the boxes of unused pregnancy tests in the drawer under the master bedroom sink. you sang along to your favorite song, tapping your fingers against the steering wheel.

as soon as you got to the home you shared with rafe, you immediately made your way to the bathroom, unboxing one of the tests and taking it; a wide smile on your lips as you took the test, putting the cap back on and setting it onto the sink to wait for the result.

but you got your answer before the usual three-minute wait. because when you went to wipe, the toilet paper came out red.

rafe loved coming home early and surprising you; his meeting had ended early, and he'd picked up a gorgeous bouquet of lilies, your favorites, along with food from your favorite ramen place. he walked into your shared home, expecting to hear music or the tv, only for the house to be eerily quiet.

"babe?" rafe called out with slight worry, peeking into the living room to see that you weren't there, but as he got closer to the kitchen, the noise of soft sniffles got nearer.

as rafe got to the doorway, he saw you sitting at the kitchen island, eyes red-rimmed as your thumb tapped on the base of an empty glass of wine, next to it a half-empty bottle of red, your lips perpetually downturned. "babe?" rafe took tentative steps towards you, placing the bouquet of flowers and bag of food onto the island, "what-"

before he could finish his sentence, you'd gotten onto your feet and crashed into his chest, heavy sobs leaving your chest, rafe's arms automatically wrapping around you, his chin resting on top of your head, his hand starting to stroke your hair, mumbling soft words of comfort.

when your sobs finally started subsiding and you started to detach from his grip, rafe looked down at you, bringing his finger to your chin and lifting your head up so you were looking up at him even though you avoided gazing at him. "what's wrong, baby?"

you bit down on your lower lip so harshly it was shocking it wasn't bleeding before finally letting go and finally looking rafe into his ice-blue eyes, glistening with worry.

"i got my period."

oh.

rafe moved his hand so he was cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking the soft skin, "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry." "i actually had hope it had worked this time." you chuckled bitterly, "i was two weeks late. i'm so stupid."

"hey, don't talk about my wife like that." rafe furrowed his brows, bringing his other hand to rest on the other side of your face, "we'll just try again. it's no big deal."

"it's a big deal for me!" you exclaimed in frustration, detaching from him and turning around, starting to pace. you ran a hand through your hair, "all i want is to have a baby with the man i love, and for some reason i'm unable to do something most women are able to do. that some people have happen to them without even trying, without wanting it! we've been trying for almost a year!"

"i know, and i know how much it frustrates you, but there are things we haven't tried yet, and you shouldn't lose hope-"

"what if i'm infertile?" your voice broke with the last word.

"you're in your early twenties and you have regular periods, i know that it's possible but i doubt that it's that likely you're infertile. some couples just have a more difficult time to conceive."

you swallowed, taking a deep breath as you turned back to face rafe, your voice raw with emotion, "i didn't... always have regular periods."

"what... what do you mean?"

"when i was around sixteen..." you looked down at the floor, "i had... amenorrhea. which is the medical term for... pretty much the lack of a period. it lasted for almost a year."

"what? why haven't you told me about this before?" rafe stepped towards you, putting his hands on your shoulders, looking down at you in worry.

"it was the darkest, most miserable time in my life." you sighed, letting out a soft sniffle as a tear rolled down your cheek, "it was because... i had problems with my body and eating." "your body?" "i... i didn't like myself. any part of myself. but... i thought that once i got better and once i got my period back and i was at a healthy weight, every side effect i was having would go away too." you swallowed, looking down, "but i read that not getting your period for a long time could affect your fertility in the long term."

one of rafe's hand's moved to cup your cheek, "why didn't you tell me about this...?" he asked softly, "i just... i didn't want you to think i was fragile. that there was something wrong with me. that maybe if i really am infertile, you'd... you know."

"don't you dare think i'd ever leave you for something like that. leaving you isn't an option i'd think about in a million years. and i don't think you're fragile, or that there's something wrong with you. i think you're an incredibly strong woman, and you're going to be an amazing mother. and you will become a mother. okay?" "okay..." you mumbled, and rafe pressed a kiss on your forehead.

"we can go see a doctor if you want, run some tests, see if we can figure out if there's a medical reason for this, or if we have the crappiest luck in the world."

you smiled softly, your sniffles starting to quieten, "alright. we'll go see a doctor."

rafe pulled you into his arms once again, squeezing you tightly, "you're gonna be an amazing mama. trust me." your husband mumbled, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

taglist: @raahosh, @nemesyaaa, @purpleplumpudding, @littlelamy, @dollyfiles, @esotericcangel, @mattyskies, @bakugouswaif, @nonietosay, @my-name-is-baby, @tinythebunni, @fratbrochrisgf, @ariieeesworld, @silkylovey, @izumis-salty-penis, @flow33didontsmoke, @cameronsbabydoll, @love-ella333, @haylorbestie, @k4yr14, @harringtonsbowgirl, @lacelottie, @st8rkey, @lunaleah, @cicicavill7, @lillied31, @doremimosasol, @lerclec

click here to join the taglist! 💌

[amnxp]

You in my arms

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x fem!reader

warning: lots n lots n lots of kisses, and mentions of some insecurities on Joaquin's part

Wordcount: 2.5k

summary: You kiss Joaquin's scars as he sleeps.

A/n:something cute something nice something also entirely self indulgent be i couldnt stop thinking about it after his crash he would 100% have scars tagt he was insecure about n just imagine kissing them all uhhhhh yes please me and the other 5 joaquin fans woulddddd

Oh also there is a aecond part of i'll see you in a minute in the works:p

Masterlist

English is not my first language please be aware!

He had been released from the hospital a few weeks ago. According to Sam, he wasn’t allowed on any type of mission or even to get information about said missions. No, what he had to do was lie down and rest. Did he do either? Mostly no, but still, you managed.

At times, you’d find him training, either in the gym or in his room, and you would always scold him endlessly for it. He had just gotten out of the hospital why the hell was he so eager to send himself right back? You knew his physical therapist was just as against his intense training as you were, and still, he refused to listen. To you, or to anybody else, for that matter. At some point, you decided to just give up, not fully, but you did ease up on him after some time, because you realized what this was. He wasn’t outright trying to be annoying or undo his recovery. He was trying to get back a sense of normalcy in his life after not being able to do anything for so long. And maybe you’d been a little selfish not to notice that sooner.

Right now, you were rummaging around the kitchen, looking for something to snack on. After about five minutes, you found nothing, so you gave up and went to search for Joaquin. Maybe he had a secret stash of sweets or snacks somewhere near him. Pushing his (your) bedroom door open, you spotted him—shirtless and in shorts, sprawled out in a full starfish pose across the bed. His chest was slowly rising and falling, indicating that he was in a deep slumber. Softly trudging in, mindful not to wake him up, you settled down next to him. On your side, with your hand propping up your head, you admired him—his sharp nose, his long eyelashes, his lush black curls and slowly your eyes began to drift. Not in a perverted sense, but rather in a quiet, homely one.

Your eyes found countless scars littered all over his torso, with one huge scar stretched across his chest the very same area where they’d laid him down open on the surgical table. You remembered the scene as if it were unfolding before your eyes all over again. How cold he looked. How gone he was. All you could do was stare. You didn’t know if your grief should start, or if he would pull through. All you knew was fear. Paralyzing fear. Your eyes darted back to his face. Before you knew it, you let out a small, shaky sigh possibly out of relief, of just having him here, in your arms.

You placed your hand lazily on his chest, then stroked your thumb over his skin. Your thumb traced each small and large scar you could find with his chest bare in front of you. He was still soundly asleep, but by now, his eyebrows had started to furrow, perhaps he was having a troubled dream, or maybe he could feel what you were doing.

You knew Joaquin. All his training and all of his avoidance when it came to talking about that mission stemmed from his insecurities. He was scared that that was the end of his superhero life and he was ashamed of it. When he had come back to his senses after the coma, you had yelled at him. There’d been little to no bite in it, but still you’d warned him. You told him how stupid and how selfish it was of him to ignore Sam’s orders and just dive headfirst, quite literally, into danger.

He hadn’t seemed like he cared. All he did was stare at you and mumble that you should stop talking and just kiss him already. You smile at the memory, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Your eyes linger on the scar in the middle of his chest. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward and placed one soft kiss on one of the smaller scars. Your eyes flitted up to check if he had woken, but he was still in deep sleep. So instead, your lips found purchase on another scar. And another. And another. Each one that was longer earned several kisses peppered along its length. When you reached his neck, your kisses slowed, became more sincere. Thanks to his fall, he’d gotten a large burn scar along the side of his neck.

The last one remaining free from your soft attack was the biggest one, the one across his chest.

You let out a sigh before your index finger gently grazed down the length of it. You leaned your head forward and pressed one long, slightly wet kiss, because you’d wet your lips beforehand onto the edge of the scar. Shifting carefully, you moved your legs to straddle both of his, mindful not to put any actual pressure on him. Once again, you admired him. It didn’t matter how mad or how sad you were at Joaquin—his beauty, to you, was still ravishing. Sometimes, you just wanted to stuff him in your pocket and never let anyone see him again. Only you. But alas, you couldn’t. And you were sure that if Joaquin knew how you felt, he’d tease you about it until the very last day of your life together.

Your lips found purchase at the beginning of his scar, and slowly but surely, you drew kisses along the entire length of it.

“Baby,” his voice cut through the silence, rough and still thick with sleep. You felt his hand gently running through your hair. “Morning, baby,” you smiled, pulling yourself up toward him, your lips hovering just shy of his. Your smile grew into a full-blown grin you couldn’t hide, even if you tried.

Through the window to your right, the sun was shining through, casting a golden light that illuminated Joaquin’s features just perfectly. “You look perfect,” you muttered, finally closing the distance to plant your lips on his.

He let out a soft sigh, both of his hands cradling the sides of your face as he kissed you back. Slowly, he pulled himself upright with you still against him, lips not parting even once. Even as you pulled away slightly, he quickly leaned in again, shaking his head at the loss of your mouth on his. Ever the romantic. Muffled against his lips, you called his name. “Joaquin.”

“Hmmm?” he hummed, still chasing the kiss. Finally, his lips parted from yours. “What were you doing?” “Nothing,” you replied, though your smile gave you away completely. His eyebrows raised in fake mockery. “I felt you, you know.” “Mmhmm, so?” you teased. “Can’t I admire my beautiful boyfriend?” Your eyes flickered across his face before you leaned in to plant more kisses on his neck. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders while his hands found your waist, settling there with a soft grip.

His skin was warm beneath your lips, comforting and familiar and yet, somehow, still addictive. You couldn’t stop. Not that you ever wanted to.

But then you felt him squirm beneath you, and reluctantly, you slowly pulled away, glancing around the room in search of your phone. “You already distracted? You just woke me up in the best way possible, baby—what the hell you looking for?” His lips land against yours again before you can even answer.

You hum into the kiss, your hand curling into the soft, messy curls at the back of his head. You kissed him back with the same kind of care, the kind that told him he was safe here, that every scar, every part of him, was loved.

“I was gonna take a picture,” you whispered as he pulled away just slightly, his nose brushing yours.

“A picture?”, he tilts his head slightly eyes finding yours.

You nod, sheepishly. “You looked really pretty in the light. And I wanted to remember this moment.”

A soft pink spread across Joaquin’s cheeks, something that always made your chest squeeze. He was good at pretending to be cocky, but at the core, he was so tender, so humble, it broke your heart a little every time.

“Next time,” he mumbled, burying his face in your neck. “Right now I just want you close.” You smile and shift slightly to the side, letting him pull you back onto the bed beneath you, arms wrapping around your waist like he was scared you might vanish if he let go. Arms cup your ribs. “I mean it,” you say into his hair. “You’re beautiful, Joaquin. All of you.“, you see his eyes dart to the side, his eyebrows furrowing in an unspoken question. Even the scars? „These scars“, your hands trails one softly „They’re not ugly. They’re proof you made it home. To me. And that you didn’t give up.” He exhales deeply against your skin, and it feels like something loosens in him. Like your words reached the part of him that still worried he wasn’t enough—not strong enough, not good enough, not whole enough to be someone’s hero anymore. Or more importantly your hero.

“I was scared,” he admits quietly. “When I woke up… and you just weren‘t there. I couldn‘t feel anything i could barely even see anything. Sam just looked at me which such…guilt. I thought surely you left me snd that was why you weren‘t there.“

You pull back just enough to cup his face between your hands, thumbs brushing along his cheekbones. “Never,” you whisper. “God, Joaquin, I could never leave you. You think any of that matters to me? You being here, you being alive, that’s all I care about. Can‘t say though that i wasn‘t mad at you for being reckless. Me and Sam talked shit about you for hours”, a small chuckle left you. „Wowww...even in a state of half-death you still find it in yourself to torture me. Ouch“ he fakes a pout that you just couldn’t resist. Your lips find his again, this time slower, deeper. The kind of kiss that said stay, that said heal, that said you’re mine and I’m yours and we’ll figure it out together.

When you pull away, he’s smiling through a shaky breath.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers.

You roll your eyes fondly. “Don’t start with that. You think I kissed your entire body just for fun?”

“Maybe a little for fun.”

You grin and lightly smack his chest. He catches your wrist, then intertwines your fingers with his. For a few moments, the silence is the only thing that speaks—soft, warm, comfortable.

“I missed this,” he says after a while. “Not just lying in bed. I missed you.” “You were right here the whole time, dummy.”, you let out a soft sigh. “I’m glad you’re back, my love.”

“I love you,” he says, barely above a whisper.

You smile against his skin, letting the words settle like sunlight across your chest.

“I love you more.”

“You always have to win,” he murmurs, already starting to doze off again, smile still lingering on his lips.

You press one last kiss to the center of his chest, right along the scar and let yourself relax in his arms. The world could wait. For now, all that mattered was this—his heartbeat, your breath syncing with his, and the silent promise you made every time you kissed a scar: I see you. I love you. You’re still mine.

And this time, you knew he finally believed it too.

[mingyuisthevictimofsvt]

His Royal Application Only

Childhood Chaos and Crowned Disasters

The palace was the kind of place you only saw in fairytales—high marble ceilings, golden chandeliers that glimmered like starlight, and sprawling gardens that never stopped blooming. But to you, it wasn’t a magical kingdom. It was your playground. And unfortunately, it came with a permanent playmate: Prince Kim Mingyu.

You had known Mingyu since you were old enough to walk, thanks to the fact that your mother was the Queen’s best friend and closest advisor. That bond meant your childhood was spent inside palace walls—attending etiquette classes, playing in the royal corridors, and most importantly, being dragged into every ridiculous game Mingyu could think of.

At six, he decided he was a dragon-slayer.

Which meant you were the princess in distress.

You still remembered the day he stormed into the East Garden, a plastic sword in one hand and a cooking pot on his head like a helmet, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"I am Sir Kim of the Gyu! I have come to save you, Princess Y/N!"

You looked up from your coloring book, unimpressed. “I’m not even tied up.”

He gasped in horror. “You escaped the dragon? You’re stronger than I thought. That’s why we must marry.”

“Absolutely not,” you replied, flicking a crayon at his forehead.

Marriage proposals came daily after that. From him. With all the elegance of a puppy tripping over its own ears.

One time, he handed you a ring he made out of jellybeans and whispered dramatically, “This is the Royal Gummy. Say yes and rule beside me.”

You ate the jellybean instead.

Your mothers used to watch the two of you from the veranda and laugh endlessly. “They’re going to get married one day,” the Queen would say fondly, sipping her tea.

Your mother chuckled. “If she doesn’t kill him first.”

You couldn’t argue. Mingyu was a menace. A sweet, clumsy, absolutely over-the-top menace.

At age eight, he started his own "knighthood club" and knighted a pigeon in the royal courtyard. You were his squire. The pigeon was named Sir Pecks-a-Lot.

At nine, the two of you painted the royal fountain bright pink because you said it looked “sad.”

You got grounded for a week. Mingyu got a very stern talking-to from five advisors and the head butler, who nearly cried when the fountain bubbled magenta.

And at ten, he held your hand for the first time during a thunderstorm.

You were both hiding under the piano in the grand hall—he was scared of thunder, though he’d never admit it.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, scooting closer. “If the lightning comes, I’ll protect you. Even if I have to fight the sky.”

You stared at him, equal parts moved and confused.

“���You can’t fight the sky, dummy.”

“I can if it hurts you.”

And you believed him.

Because when it came to Mingyu, no matter how ridiculous he was, he always meant every word.

As the years passed, the games changed, but the bond stayed the same.

You were always at each other’s side—during dance practices, banquet rehearsals, lessons on diplomacy. You were his partner in crime and the only person who could get away with calling him a “walking chandelier” when he wore too much gold.

One summer, when you were both around twelve, you got into a flour fight in the royal kitchen. You were trying to sneak cookies. He tried to help. Ten minutes later, the head chef found the two of you completely white, looking like powdered ghosts.

“Did you conquer the baking kingdom?” the chef asked, voice dry.

“Yes,” Mingyu answered with a solemn nod. “The pastries are free now.”

You doubled over laughing, and for the first time, you saw something strange in his eyes. He looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

But then he tripped over a bag of sugar and crashed into the pantry door.

So, you figured it was just your imagination.

By fourteen, he was taller. By fifteen, he was suddenly handsome in a way you didn’t know what to do with. And by sixteen, something was shifting.

But that came later.

Back then, all you knew was this:

The palace was your world.

Mingyu was your chaos.

And somehow, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

•Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5•

A/n - let me know if anyone wants to get tagged for the next chapter

[nanamisbbygirl]

maternal instinct

includes: dad geto x mom reader ft. little nanako and mimiko

type: drabble, domestic fluff

summary: geto loves the way you care for the girls, and he can't thank you enough. (sfw- slightly suggestive) (follows canon)

a/n: those are his babies i love this trope and dynamic (im a sucker for it) and one more thing this is so personal im crashing out rn but fuck sukuna like it's the number 1 reason i REFUSE to write for him because like how could u do that to them

p.s if anyone wants more of these drabbles i will write them all it takes is one person asking lol

"you take good care of them," geto hums, placing a kiss on your shoulder, watching how the two little girls have gently been put to sleep. you turn to look at him, a faint smile on your lips.

"they deserve to be taken care of, to have someone love them." his eyes are soft for a moment. you don't see the vicious cult leader, or the jujutsu defector you ran away with. you see a thoughtful man, with ideology and purpose. "you did the right thing, taking them from that village."

he doesn't say anything. he doesn't have to. you both know what he's thinking. he's remembering that fateful day, picturing their battered faces, horrified in the cage. it was all it took for you to realize the world wasn't what it was, the suffering inflicted by humans needed to be put to an end.

"i like seeing you like this," he whispers, "maternal, caring-- it brings out the best in you."

you laugh, "i could say the same about you. you looked so cute letting them give you a makeover the other day."

"hmm yeah," he smiles alongside you. "it's almost their birthday, we should get them a nice cake. their first birthday with us."

"yeah," your voice trails off, peeking into the room. when you pictured having a family with suguru, it didn't necessarily look like this, but you wouldn't trade it for anything.

he spins you around, looking at you face-to-face, placing his lips onto yours. it's a gentle kiss, but strong enough to make your blood rush.

"now let me take care of you," he whispers into your ear, hands finding your waist.

"oh really? what am i in for today?" you try not to laugh too loud, you just put the girls down after all.

geto gives you another kiss, "whatever you'd like, my love, i'm at your service."

he pulls you in closer, so that your head rests on his chest and you can hear his heart beat.

"well now that you mention it, a good massage is just what i need."

his eyebrows wiggle, "oh i can give you a good massage."

giggling, you nudge him away. "so perverted!" you tease him, letting him kiss you one more time.

"seriously, though," you draw back to your previous idea, "maybe a nice glass of wine? maybe a foot rub?"

"sure," he pecks your nose, but before you have the chance to split off, there's a tiny hand tugging at your pants.

little nanako and mimiko stood there, rubbing their tired eyes.

“we can’t sleep,” they tell you, causing you to kneel to their height. you softly pet their heads as they rush in for a hug.

“oh no, well we have to do something to fix that.” you muse, “how about another bedtime story?”

their faces perk up, nodding eagerly. their reactions cause you to chuckle, “okay well, go pick out a book and me and suguru will come and read to you.”

the little girls bounce back to their shared bedroom while you rose again to your full height. in doing so, you embraced geto into a half hug, where he placed his lips against the crown of your head.

“i guess it’s a rain check on the massage then, huh?” he says against your skin.

you nod, “i guess so. it’s alright though, story time is more fun.”

“i love you,” he says breathlessly.

“i know,” you hum, “and i love you.”

together, you walk into the girls room, greeting them with smiles as they present their story of choice.

a/n: i had to make a little edit because my original ending didn’t save for some reason 😿

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Yo-- Just had a thought, transformation potions are like rare/mostly forbidden in TWST right? Or at least limited in use.

So like... why did Crowley just have one on hand in the prologue lol?? And a ghost potion no less. This combined with the fact that, according to his character profile, his special talent is "lock picking", do you think he has a penchant for like breaking into places he's not supposed to?

Plus iirc, he's stated to have sourced many of the library's books and stuff (correct me if I'm wrong), so maybe some of that content was obtained in perhaps not entirely legal ways? The possibilites are endless lol

That’s right, according to Leona in book 2, “Transformation potions are forbidden.” Azul elaborates in book 6, stating that transformation potions are typically prescribed and regulated by the government. For example, an organization in the Sunshine Lands hands out these potions for promising merpeople who wish to work/live on land. Transformation potions are otherwise “normally quite hard to come by.”

However, there seems to be a strange exception early in the prologue. Crowley drinks “transmutation potion” to take on the form of a ghost.

It should be noted that, in EN, Crowley uses the term “transmutation” instead of “transformation”. These effectively refer to the same thing (as the same term, 変身 (henshin/transformation), is used in the original JP text; it was just translated differently in different scenes in EN). Interestingly, JP uses the phrase 変身薬, or henshin-yaku, which means “transformation DRUG”, not potion. If potions are similar to drugs/medicine, then it follows that production and distribution of potions would fall under government regulation and scrutiny.

There is no explanation given for why Crowley has a transformation potion on hand, but I assume it was for the writing team’s convenience to lead into a fun twistune/rhythmic. But also 🙂‍↕️ it kinda checks out in-universe too… because Crowley has surely broken several child endangerment and/or labor laws, so what does it matter that he also breaks laws surrounding potion/drug distribution?/j

On a serious note, Crowley is technically an educator and has connections with larger political and educational ties, such as to a school board and international magic institutions. It’s possible that he has the credentials to be able to walk around with typically illegal substances under the guise of “educating” others. Crowley’s also dealing with Yuu and Grim—two outsiders who are not familiar with the laws—in the prologue. He can easily get away with violating any laws because those two wouldn’t be able to clock him on it.

I don’t know if Crowley has a habit of breaking into places he’s not supposed to be, but he definitely does crash through the ceiling into our Lessons pop up when it’s highly inconvenient to and asks for favors. The lock picking talent is something I’ve always interpreted as a cheeky nod to how he has tons of keys on him at all times, has a cane that’s key/shaped, and, of course, receives students via coffins that have lock motifs on them. Crowley is the one holding the “keys” or authority of NRC and oversees the students. And!! He’s a crow, an animal which reportedly has the intelligence to pick locks.

In Wish Lantern, Crowley explains that many of the books in the school’s archives are ones he personally collected while on travels. While it’s not impossible for some of those to have been pilfered, I doubt that the majority of them are. More likely they’re just old or rare volumes he obtained vis his reputation as headmaster of NRC.

[ronnykins-needshelp]

Cumplane has me on a litteral choke hold i will NOT stop making AUs ISTG

Where AU where Cumplane Pre-transmigration meets Moshang and Bingqiu post-SVSSS

currently Cumplane has been in a marriage for about 5 years and has been dating for 2 years. they started talking properlyto each other once PIDW had ended and Shen yuan coerced Airplane into making a new book with his exact outline from his orignal plan, offering to pay for it. becuase obviously Shen yuan isnt going to tolerate SQHs living condictions in a very beat down apartment they become roomates. as Shen Yuan is a beta reader and SQH no longer needs to worry about money, they calm down their anomosity. and after back and forth and Shen Yuan finally coming out of his very glass closet they get together.

at first Shen Yuans family doesnt approve becuase they think Shang Qinghua was a golddigger, but after finding out that Shang Qinghua was the author of PIDW, which they have heard their son rant about every single time they meet up, hey turn the tables and accept them as their son in law thinking :

Entire Family: " so thats why shen yuan started dating him! thats so sweer. "

it was kind of embarressing becuase Shen Yuans family had described in detail how passionate their son got whenever talking about that book.

Shen Yuan: " ive always hated it!! "

Mother Shen: " no honey, you didnt you were just in denial, like your sexuality. "

Shen Yuan: " Mom!! "

his family is not discrimitory, they are just happy their hermit crab is doing something with his life

they end up adopting [ bc i NEED a child to be in this ] an orphan one year into their marriage and calling him Shen binghe. no they will never tell their son the origin of his name. who was a baby that was dumped onto the orphanges doorstep. which was conveintly around the time they decided to adopt.

since they were kinda young when they took up the mantle of being parents they took every precuation to keep him safe, to the point that Shang Qinghua took a haitus to take care of his son.

they raised him to be a healthy four year old boy.

thats when Xin mo coughed up Moshang And Bingqiu, closely after the Bingqiu marriage, into their little cottage that used to be the Shen Families beach house. this was during they time they were having ' family time ' by playing simple board games in their living room when they heard crashes in their kitchen. Shen binghe is scared but Shang QInghua fishes out a shotgun that was placed behind their couch for showcase. it didnt work but it can cetaintly frighten someone.

a Frightened Shen binghe hugs his mother father waiting for some news.

Shen Qinghua [ He took up the shen name bc rich people thoughts ig]: " Ummmmm..... Baoibei you might want to see this. "

confused, Shen Yuan, holding Shen binghe protectively in his arms, walks to the kitchen, and to his complete and utter surprise, finds PIDW charaters in his home.

Shen yuan: " What the fuck?! A-Bing dont repeat that. "

his son nods when the cosplayer that looks like Luo binghe says,

Luo Binghe: " who are you to say anything of what i do? "

Shen Qingqiu: " calm down binghe, he wasnt talking to you. "

luo binghe: " ok shizun! "

that one that looks like the scum villianwas looking interestedly towards Shen Yuan, which was making him uncomfitable and he held his child closer.

Shen Yuan: " A-Hua, why are they here, who are these people? "

Shen Qinghua: " Well i think they are.. "

Shang Qinghua: " Im airplane shooting towards the sky! i already told him some emberrising shit so he knows that we are on and the same. "

shen yuan moves closer to his Shen Qinghua and Shang Qinghua frowned.

Shang QInghua: " i didnt think i would marry and have a kid! well in this timeline becuase of PIDW. "

his grouped glanced at him.

Mobei-jun: " What exactly do you mean this timeline? "

Shang Qinghua: " oh i died here than transmigrated - or moving ones soul to anothers body - after not even finishing my book which is our world! "

Shen Qingqiu: " way to lay that one out airplane. "

he scoffed, which was terrifienly familar to someone the mortals know.

Shen yuan, suddenly proccessing the words: " D-died?! "

The shang qinghua nodded, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Shang Qinghua: " Anyways, whos that twink i married? im surprised that we pulled a pretty boy like that! im used to my king, "

Shen Qinghua: " I know we are the same person, but dont talk to my husband like that! "

Shang Qinghua, puttinig his hands up mocking surrender: " i didnt think i had balls but ok. "

Shen yuan stopped listening as excitment wiggled in after the fright settled down.

Shen Yuan: " You see this A-bing? this is a Au clash! i never thought that i would be in this type of plot!! "

Shen binghe, giggling: " like one of babas books! "

Shen yuan: " thats right my little demon. "

luo binghe blinked at the nickname.

Shen Yuan: " Anyways my name is- "

Shen QIngqiu, breathlessly: " Shen yuan. "

Shen yuan, looks questionly at the man: " How do you know my name?! "

Shen Qingqiu: " Becuase im you. "

que an EXTENSIVE talk about how transmigration worked for the husbands, and how they died, and how PIDW ended. now onto the their personal lives with SHen Binghe playing with the two demon lords in a friendly game of go fish [ AKA ruthlessly beating them with no hope of survival. Luo binghe Scowls at this child self of him, no mercy!! ] and the cumplane pairs sitting in the couch.

Shang QInghua: " i cannot believe i married the Peerless cucumber, He was the one who basically cuased my death!! "

Shen QIngqiu, whacking the hamster in the back of his head: " and is marrying this master that unsightly? I should be surprised that i married you, you hack author!! "

.. well that explained their relationship.

Shen Yuan: " Not even that surprised, i dont even know how ive been with this hack for 11 years. "

Platonic cumplane: " ELEVEN YEARS?! "

Shen QInghua, pitifully and tying to kiss Shen yuan: " Awwww why does my pretty husbando think that, "

Shen Yuan, shoving Shen Qinghua away by the face: " Becuase i said so. now get off me you big oof. "

After some whining and big puppy eyes [ that Shen Qingqiu frightenly similar to luo binghes ], Shen Qinghua is is laying contently on Shen yuans laps while he brushes his fingers through his hair.

Shan Qinghua: " you know if i werent with my king and seen you how i should have, i would have tapped that ass long ago. "

Shen yuan, yeeting a pillow at top speed while blushing: " My CHILD is right here!! stop being so shameless for once airplane!! "

Shen Qingqiu, having been subjected to Airplanes shamelessness for years ignores him: " speaking of child, if you have PIDW in your world, how do you have a luo binghe here? usually at these types of senerarios in fanfics, they both cant coencide with each other. "

Shen Qinghua: " Oh thats becuase baobei refused to call him anything but Luo binghe. "

he received a slap. Shen yuan was fuming.

Shen Yuan: " yah whatever, i had to admit he looked quite similar to Luo binghe was described - minus the two toned hair - in the book, i could not not name him binghe. "

the two Shens nodded in understanding while the the huas just looked confused at the logical, ut whatever each to their own.

shen Qingqiu: " oh thsts pretty nice. wait please dont tell me you have mpreg in this world, i do and no- "

shen Yuan: " No! no, anyways does he look like us? we adopted him when he was around two weeks old. "

Shang Qinghua: " Now i got to admit thats sweet, i love the little family yall got, its kind of sad that this is what our future wouldve been if we didnt die. well i dont regret transmigrating into pidw, sometimes, though becuase i ended up with Mobei, who i modeled after my tastes-. "

Shen Qinghua: " -which pretty much described A-yuan- "

Shang Qinghua: " -so im pretty happy with my life. "

Shen yuan: " talking about you, howd you end up with the protaginist? "

Shen qingqiu, waving his fan lazily with a huff: " Dont get me started- "

proceeds to describe the entire lore of SVSSS. both Qighuas fell asleep at one point while Shen yuan was enratured by the whole story.

Shen Yuan: " WOw! Luo binghe was that bad at papapa? thats totally OOC! but you are still doing it every three days? "

Shen QIngqiu, Shrugging: " pretty much, hes just too cute to not say no to. what about you? idk if papapa with the author whos so clearly a virigin would be that great either, "

Shen Yuan: " oh hes not a virgin. apperently he slept around alot while in university so my poor Chrysanthemum ddint suffer like yours. thouguh he havent done it in awhile since Shen Binghe takes up more of our time "

Shen Qinghua: " awww if they get to stay, maybe they get to take care of our binghe and we get to go for a bi- "

Shen Yuan: " if you are asleep, keep pretending to sleep! dont just wake up halfway! "

SHang QInghua flinched a the fimiliar words as he had jjust woken up.

meanwhile at the kiddy table

Luo Binghe: " so um, do you have aaa?

Shen Binghe: " Three of hearts? no. go fish. "

Luo binghe mumbled under his breath as he grumpily snatches another card. he has already lost 5 times, and Mobei-jun is a lost cuase.

since Mobei-jun wasnt talking SHen binghe iniciated a convo.

Shen binghe: " your so cool looking! your robes are like the ones that my babas cosplay in!! one time when they arrived they had to give me to my grandma in order for them to go to a convention! apperently my babas book, proud immortal demon way go super popular when it finished! "

Luo binghe, raising an eyebrow: " how does this shen binghe tell the differences between your two parents? "

Shen Binghe: " I sometimes call my first baba, ' mama ' "

Luo binghe: " Fair. i call my shizun wife. "

Shen binghe, pouting: " how can other me marry mama! "

Luo binghe, defensively: " well thats becuase Shizun is not my mo- "

Shen Binghe: " -and why is my baba married to the big scary icicle!! "

Mobei-ju just raised an eyebrow which was scary for a child and Shen binghe started crying. frightening both of the adults.

shen yuan suddenly appeared holding his son and rocking him.

Shen yuan, cooing: " Are you ok my little bingbing? did the big scary men bully you? "

Luo binghe: " he started thi- "

he was silenced by a glare.

Shen Binghe: " I dont like this AU! my babas arent together!! and their weird! "

luo binghe does not want to make this child version of himself cry, becuase if he cries and shizun finds out hes sleeping on the bed tonight.

Luo binghe: " wait wait, this lo- im sorry, here look at this. "

he opened his clawed palm and produced a little demonic energy, from that he minipulated it into turning into a a black mistic bunny. the bunny jumped and when luo binghe moved his hands closer to shen binghe, it started to sniff his noise intensly. Shen binghe started to giggle and wearly pet the bunny. to his surprise it was soft.

the other three moved to the table watching this whole scene.

Shen Qingqiu: " oh thats sweet, who kew Binghe was so great with kids? "

Both Qinghuas looked at him. Luo binghe was static.

Luo Binghe: " Would Shizun like a child? this husband would love to- "

he has hit by a fan. Shen binghe started to luagh aswell as shen yuan.

Shen yuan: " See A-bing? if a man like that annoys you, hit him on the head! "

Mobei-jun: " what a pleasant lesson for a child "

everyone jumped when he spoke, basically forggetting he was here.

Shen Qinghua: " anywayss, how did you get here? "

Shen QIngqiu: " Xin Mo messing up "

Shen Yuan: " any way to get back? "

Shang Qinghua: " our ride should be here any second "

a portal opens and Sha hualing pokes her head out.

Sha hualing: " Get over here losers, you owe me! "

after much goodbyes the group left. leaving the cumplane family to lay down on the couch. SHen binghe fell asleep quickly, eghuasted by the whole debacle.

Shen Binghe, groaning: " I dont think i want to meet another AU again. "

Shen yuan, huffing out: " Agreed, "

and then the little family slept happily on the couch

[lydiadeetzwannabee]

Yellowjackets x ATP Bot Release

“We hear the wilderness and It hears us.”

A yellowjackets!au bot release.

CW: Cannibalism, Death, Mental Illness, Cults, Brainwashing, Canon Yellowjackets events

Discretion is advised, take care of yourselves!

Art Donaldson

જ⁀➴ “ adapting “

Notes: yellowjackets!au, wilderness!timeline

⋆ ₊ ⊹ It wouldn’t be easy for anyone to get used to the way of the woods after civil life was ripped from them, but Art hasn’t even made an attempt. He’s still clinging onto the hope that rescue would come get them eventually. And even though the rest of the group wants to leave him behind to fend for himself, you know you’re probably the only one who can get to him.

જ⁀➴ “ such a chill “

Notes: yellowjackets!au, wilderness!timeline

⋆ ₊ ⊹ You’ve slowly been able reason with Art, much to his dismay. But when summer left and winter came, when him and the rest of the yellowjackets became stranded for food, he found himself beginning to believe Lottie’s prophecy’s even with your obvious disapproval. But even with the conflict between you two, he’ll always care for you.

જ⁀➴ “ no one home “

Notes: yellowjackets!au, adult!timeline

⋆ ₊ ⊹ Art has spent the last twenty five years of his life trying to forget what happened in the woods after that plane crash. He managed to clean his image up, married someone who looked too much like you, and left New Jersey for good. But, one call from you was able to pull him back to that time, and no matter how much he tries, he can’t forget the wilderness.

Patrick Zweig

જ⁀➴ “ guilt “

Notes: yellowjackets!au, wilderness!timeline

⋆ ₊ ⊹ Patrick knows that it was inhumane, but all he was focused on was survival, on your survival. But he knows you’ll never forgive yourself, and all he wants is to keep you safe and not let you feel guilty for something you needed to do.

જ⁀➴ “ say it ain’t so “

Notes: yellowjackets!au, wilderness!timeline

⋆ ₊ ⊹ You and Patrick have both managed to keep each other afloat and alive in the year you’ve spent in the wilderness. However, Patrick had begun to notice how you slowly gravitated towards Lottie and her prophecies. He was never fond of her practices or of you making yourself rely on them, but he never thought you would intervene with his chance of finally going home.

જ⁀➴ “ same as you “

Notes: yellowjackets!au, adult!timeline

⋆ ₊ ⊹ Patrick didn’t give much of an effort to fix himself once he was rescued. His parents tried to get him back on track but at some point along the way figured out he was a lost cause. Now, he lives in his car going from paycheck to paycheck. Sometimes travels back to Wiskayok, New Jersey just to see you again. He knows you’ll always invite him in anyway.

Tashi Duncan

જ⁀➴ “ linger “

Notes: yellowjackets!au, wilderness!timeline

⋆ ₊ ⊹ Tashi was never supposed to be on the flight to nationals, but one ask from you and she couldn’t say no. No one would ever except a crash, and she knew it wasn’t intentional, but Tashi had already begun to resent you for making her get on that plane.

જ⁀➴ “ ritual “

Notes: yellowjackets!au, wilderness!timeline

⋆ ₊ ⊹ Tashi was supposed to be the victim of the ritual to save Lottie and to feed the group, but when Javi tried to help her, he was the one who ended up taking her place. And after being told by Lottie that the wilderness had chosen her, Tashi’s scared of what the the people around her have become.

જ⁀➴ “ no return “

Notes: yellowjackets!au, adult!timeline

⋆ ₊ ⊹ Tashi has come a long way since the plane crash twenty five years ago. She was able to recover after the ACL tear she had suffered from during her college years and is now a famously renowned soccer coach. And you were someone she thought she had left behind, but following your discharge from a psychiatric hospital, she could never stay away.

[daydreamsandcaffeine]

of honey bunnies and bears

a/n: look who's back at it with another little imrrick family story. this is set in the same world as pocketful of sunshine, which is inspired by @violencelittlething's modern au series (go check it out!). i present to you a father's day treat.

🐰🐻🐰🐻

Clang. Crash.

The noises from the kitchen downstairs rouse Garrick from his sleep. As he rubs the sleepiness from his eyes, his ears pick up on bits of conversation.

“But, mooom, it has to be perfect!”

“He’s going to love it, bun, perfect or not.”

“Hmph, I want it to be perfect!”

Knowing his daughter, she is highly likely sporting a pout on her face that rivals her mother’s. Curiosity piqued, he sits up, stretches, and gets up from the bed to investigate the commotion.

He quietly makes his way downstairs to keep his presence undetected. He peers into the kitchen and can’t help a chuckle at what he finds. Mixing bowls, utensils, and ingredients are scattered across the counter. Dusts of flour coats various surfaces of the kitchen. His daughter Quinnie sits on a stool by the stove intensely watching her mother flip something on the griddle, a contrast to the playful look of concentration on Imogen’s face as she sets the spatula down and leans over to peck a kiss on their daughter’s forehead.

That sweet gesture reminds him just how lucky he is that this is his life. With that thought, he decides to make his presence known, wanting to revel in the moment with Imogen and Quinn. In a booming voice, he asks, “What’s going on here?”

Quinn’s head immediately snaps his way, and she stretches her arms out in an attempt to hide the scene. “Daaad, you’re supposed to be sleeping! We’re making a surprise!”

Garrick reaches his daughter and picks her up into his arms with barely any effort and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Well, honey bun, you woke me up with the noises, and I had to see what it was all about.”

Imogen snorts at his remark while still focusing on her task. “Your patience hasn’t gotten any better with age.”

“Is it wrong that I want to be with my favorite girls all the time?” He teases.

Imogen turns towards him, her face soft as one hand caresses her belly. “You know you’ll have to amend that term to be inclusive our baby boy.”

Garrick stills, processing her words. After a beat, he asks, “Im, we’re having a boy?”

She smiles at him. “Yeah, we are. I found out over the phone yesterday and figured I’d wait to tell you today. Surprise!”

Garrick loops the arm not holding his daughter around his wife, brings her in close, and smacks a kiss on her lips. “I love it, and I love you.” He turns to Quinn and adds, “And I love you too, honey bun.”

Little Quinnie, who had remained silent during her parents’ exchange, bubbles with excitement. “Mommy told me! It was our secret for your surprise,” she squeals at her dad.

“And what is this surprise?”

“I’m not telling until mommy says it’s ready.”

Imogen chuckles and replies, “Guess what, bun? I just finished here. Why don’t you and dad sit at the table, and I’ll bring it over?”

Quinn nods enthusiastically. “Come on, daddy! Let’s sit!”

“Your wish is my command,” Garrick easily complies and heads to the table with Quinn still in his arms. 

They get seated, and a moment later, Imogen appears, places a tray in front of Garrick, and sits with them at the table.

Garrick glances down and sees animal-shaped pancakes laid out on a platter, little ceramics holding butter and honey, and a homemade card. He picks up the card and opens it. In the card, there’s stick figure drawings with labels (clearly written by his wife) atop each figure meant to resemble their little family - daddy, mommy, Quinnie, and baby boy. At the top of the page in childlike scribbles reads, “Surprise!! Happy father’s day, daddy!” Garrick’s heart swells, and he is again in awe of how amazing his life turned out.

Quinn, losing her patience, questions, “Do you like it??”

“I love it, bun. Now tell me about these pancakes.”

Quinn nods with certainty and points to the pancakes. “They’re bunnies and bears! A bunny for me since I’m your honey bunny and a bear for you since you’re our honey bear.” Ever since Quinn heard her Uncle Xaden call her daddy honey bear, she’s latched onto the thought of them “matching”.

Imogen watches the scene in front of her adoringly, tickled pink at her daughter’s excitement explaining this morning surprise to Garrick. She cradles her belly thinking how this time next year, their baby boy will be a part of this wonderful chaos. Who knows what surprises will be in store then?

[allmylove-t]

1: Warfront

Notes: I have not posted anything I've written in a REALLY long time, so please let me know what you think. I'm really proud of this first chapter, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. All my love, T <3 (Fun little extras)

Warnings: vague references to trauma, vague references to mental health struggles, war metaphors (?)

Setting: No crash, modern au

Word count: 597

Pairing: Natalie Scatorccio x Reader (wlw)

I don’t exactly remember the moment in which we started being friends, if you could even call us that. If you consider secret cigarettes in silence, drunken rambles about everything and nothing at the same time, or shared glances from across crowded rooms as being friends… well, at that point I could say ‘we go way back.’ But she’s only acknowledged my existence as of recently. When she realized that I, too, was hot dropped on the front lines. All it took was for her to actually, truly, look at me and notice the faintest signs of a thousand-yard stare. For her to notice the remanence of emotional exhaustion. For her to notice that the light behind my eyes was repaired, never constant. For her to notice the imperfections on my skin, from the many battles I’ve fought, all in the name of “a better tomorrow.” For her to notice that I, too, was deployed in a “one man” battalion just a few regions over. Somewhere between recovery and my grave. For her to notice that I never stood on “enemy” lines, and if I ever received the command, I’d have come to her aid. That being somewhere between making it to tomorrow and ending it all tonight. 

Regardless, we couldn’t be more different, yet so similar at the same time. To me… it’s all the same. We both have our own set of trauma, scars we don’t try to hide, and skeletons in the closet, all of which piled up rather quickly. We have a mutual, unspoken, understanding amongst ourselves that we’ve come to know so well. We’ve both been shattered millions of times, for a multitude of different reasons, by many different people. But we’ve picked up our own pieces, and put them back together the best we could, or, at the very least, knew how to. That’s mainly how we differ. Hers are lazily put back together with medical tape and cigarettes, like a temporary fix to a much larger problem. But she never, properly, tended to her injuries, so her open wounds never healed right. Mine are stained to disguise which fault lines are intentional, and which were not made of my own design. They’re stained like the windows of an old cathedral. The kind that were removed during war because they’re sacred. Something to be protected. Somewhere along the way I convinced myself that I, too, am sacred, worthy of protection, therefore I deserve to look the part.

We differ because she doesn’t see that she, too, is sacred. That she, too, is worthy of protection. That she’s worthy of being shielded from the war and destruction she endured. But, instead, she just sees herself as shrapnel and crumbled cities. There’s a list of things I wish I could tell her, but I know she’d never listen. She’d tell me that I just don’t understand, but I do. She’d tell me that I have no idea what it’s like, but I do. She’d tell me I’ve never been as broken, but she knows that’s not true. Though we’ve never talked about our respective combat wounds, she knows that those are something we share. When two broken people wind up in the same place, trying to navigate life after the trenches, it’s like a gravitational pull that you don’t quite understand until you just do. You silently thank one another for your service, thank one another for creating an air of comradery, thank one another for not letting the enemy win, and you silently congratulate each other for making it back home. Wherever that may be.

[sos-gone-deeper]

I Could Be A Good Mother (Travis Martinez x Reader) (Part 1)

Shauna isn't the only one pregnant in the wilderness. Your boyfriend back home wanted you to get an abortion, but he's not here, and you can only hold the secret to yourself for so long.

Notes:

- My first multi-chapter fanfic!

- Talk of abortion

- Javi doesn't run away, nor does he die

- Fem! reader

- Takes place during the first winter

- Travis is an ass at first

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

The baby shower was meant to lift everyone's spirits. The cabin was filled with your friends, all doing something to prepare for Shauna's baby. No one was actually mentioning what would happen when Shauna had the baby, something that had been on your mind since she admitted it to everyone. You could barely afford to feed yourselves, Nat and Travis' hunting trips often coming up empty handed. And of course, a majority of the rations went to Shauna.

After a while, you just couldn't take it anymore. Seeing everyone dote over Shauna, talking about how cute the baby would be was too much for you. It's not like you hated Shauna. She was your friend. But you couldn't help but feel jealous, wondering if the girls would treat you and your baby the same.

You decided to take a walk, but not far. The cold winter was getting worse and worse as the days went by. On your way out, you caught a glimpse of Javi, sitting on the ground, making something out of sticks. You couldn't help but kneel next to him.

"Hey, Javi. Whatcha making?" You asked, examining the twigs bound by string.

"It's a doll." He admitted, blushing. "I don't know if it's gonna be a girl, but it'll need a toy."

You smiled at him. Since the crash, you and Shauna seemed to be the only girls there that kept a close eye on Javi, despite everything that had happened. Probably your motherly instincts kicking in early.

"I think it's lovely." You said, patting him on the shoulder and standing. You didn't want to go outside anymore as you listened to the whistle of wind. You opted to go take a breather in Coach Ben's room, which was currently empty.

How had no one noticed? You wondered as you flopped down on the bed. Blaming your morning sickness on just being hungry or sick from everything going on, using deer blood to fake your period, and somehow no one had raised an eyebrow. You even declined alcohol at the party right before you left for nationals, saying you were just trying to keep your head in the game.

Your boyfriend was less than pleased when you told him. You had expected him to be upset and worried, not angry and to push the blame onto you. He gave you cash, told you to find an abortion clinic, and not to tell anyone. Unfortunately, you hadn't found the time to get the procedure before you ended up stranded in the woods.

It's not like you wanted a baby in this situation. You were an honors student, played varsity soccer, and planned on going to college. But the thought of having a family, getting to raise a child, and being married was always a guarantee. You wanted the nuclear family, white picket fence, all of it.

You had no way of knowing when you'd get out of here, and no way of knowing how far along you were. Being malnourished caused your baby bump to practically be nonexistent, and bundling into winter clothes also helped cover it. But you knew you couldn't wait much longer to tell everyone. They would either find out now, or when you went into labor.

Your thoughts were interrupted by someone opening the door, not bothering to knock. Once Travis saw you sitting there, he mumbled a "sorry" and went to leave.

"Travis, wait." You said, shocked the words even left your mouth.

He turned back slowly. "What?"

"I need to talk to someone." You admitted, pleading with your eyes for him to stay.

He shut the door behind him and scoffed. "What, throwing a pity party because the attention isn't on you for once? Go get one of your friends to talk to."

"I can't-" You choked up. "I can't talk to them. Please."

Travis looked confused. You hadn't interacted one on one a single time since the crash. But that hadn't kept him from noticing the way you were treating Javi. Giving him your art supplies to keep him busy, letting him borrow your Walkman to listen to music, never letting him get in harms way. Travis could appreciate you. He knew he hadn't been brother of the year, and under these circumstances, Javi needed someone.

And clearly, you needed someone too.

He sat tentatively at the end of the bed, hands in his lap, waiting for you to speak.

"I don't know who to tell. They're already on edge. I thought we'd be rescued, and I wouldn't have to tell them. I'm just so scared."

Travis knew immediately. You had that same look on your face that Shauna did when she told everyone she was pregnant.

"Are you fucking kidding?" He mumbled, covering his face with his hands. He had just planned to get away from Misty's crazy monologue, not to end up a confidant of a huge secret to a girl he'd never properly met.

"I'm sorry- I wasn't trying to be a bigger burden. I just- fuck." There was no stopping the tears that flowed.

Travis didn't really know what to do at first. Why would he? This isn't an everyday scenario. He lightly put a hand on your shoulder, looking down at you.

"So who knows? I mean, you told your boyfriend, right?" He asked. He wasn't stupid. He had seen you around school with your jock boyfriend, always cozied up next to him, or wearing his letterman, or getting in his car as the school day ended. He envied him, the way you were wrapped right around his finger.

You started to cry harder. "He got so mad at me." You said through sobs. "He acted like I wanted this to happen. He didn't break up with me, but- it felt like he wanted to."

Travis sighed. "I don't know, man. He seems like an asshole."

You scoffed. "Oh, and you're not?" You hadn't missed the way he treated Javi and the girls. Despite everything that was happening, Travis could've been nicer. To his brother, to everyone.

"Okay, well your boyfriend isn't stranded in the middle of the woods with a dead dad." He said. He noticed the shocked look on your face. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean- my point is, he's not here. He can't do anything about this. But we have to."

"Well what do I do?" You sobbed out. "Having a baby at home? Sure, probably not gonna go that well, but at least we'd both live. Anything can happen out here."

"Well I think the first step is to tell everyone. If you keep it hidden, no one is gonna know what to do for you." Travis said. He should've noticed. When you tried to sneak extra food and he would swat your hand away, the way you'd get a strange look on your face whenever Shauna mentioned her baby, the way you doted on Javi, always keeping him content enough to push through the winter. How the hell was he this oblivious?

"I just didn't want to put more stress on anyone." You admitted, placing your hands on either side of you.

"Yeah, well, you're putting that extra stress onto yourself. And it's not gonna go well. So just tell them. Not now, soon."

After a beat of silence, Travis went to stand up and was met by your hand gripping his arm. He looked down at you, confused.

"Can you just.. just stay? For a little longer? Please." You whispered.

He just couldn't deny those soft, big eyes, and the way you were touching him was giving him butterflies.

Travis pulled his arm away from you, crushing your heart. But he quickly put it back together when he walked to the door, locked it, and came back to the bed.

"I'd rather be in here than listening to fucking Misty." He said with a chuckle.

"I can't believe Misty Quigley is delivering my baby." You groaned, flopping onto the bed.

Travis laughed again, but laid on the bed next to you.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone." He said. "It's not my place. But you're gonna have to."

"I will."

You sat there for a while, just laying next to each other. Travis selfishly thought of what a dick your boyfriend was. How if a girl that pretty and sweet was going to have his baby, he would've been elated. He always wanted a family, but feared he would just end up like his father.

You both listened to Misty continue with her speech right outside the door. When it ended, Travis ducked his head to your ear. "She would not make a good mother."

You giggled, but responded with a strange tone of voice. "I think I would be a good mother."

"I think so too."

----

Part one!! Part two is on the way. Also not sure when or how this Travis obsession started but i just love him.

[dianxiacantastemolecules]

Continued. Yes it's 5AM once more at my place. Hehehe.

@buckleyflower 🥹 read it pleaj.

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

He's pacing the room up and down, seconds close to crashing out on this plan. It's the most stupid thing he's ever planned on doing, and that's saying something for the amount of stupid things he's done in his life. His phone pings with a message. 

Chris🦕: Buck, you got this!! Please trust me. 

Chris🦕: if not for our tiktok plan, the enchiladas will definitely work!! 

Buck can't help but smile a little at the texts. It's a childish plan, made by a child. An adorable one. But even the kid can understand the need for a spark to get this engine running. He loves this kid. His kid. Almost. 

He has not told a single soul about this ridiculous plan. One,  he's too awkward to admit that Maddie was right and two, he's too scared of falling on his face and making it more awkward for the whole 118, who will inevitably know about this as soon as he gets it out. 

It's a silly plan. To use the same tiktok trend his 13 year old used to bag his young, young love is as ridiculous as it gets. Not to mention that the very thought that Chris did this has him sleepless over whether he should inform Eddie about Christopher's first kiss. They have had a pretty good relationship recently, slowly reconnecting all the fragile broken bonds from the last year. He sincerely believes he needs to protect Christopher's privacy, but he's caught on the other end with hiding this from Eddie. He knows Eddie WILL crash out and that man can't pretend to save his life. He will talk about it to Chris. 

Christopher 🦕: Have you left yet? It's already 6PM Buck!! You know dad's gonna get grumpy right?

That gets him moving. Eddie hates the showers at the fire station, and on days he can get away with the mild soot and dust, he prefers to come home to shower. Going by today's updates, he's probably going to be a big baby about this if Buck gets late. Buck finally gets his ass out of home. He really hopes he can keep calling it home after tonight. 

 He's going with a ridiculous plan in mind. Ridiculous enough to laugh away easily. To throw in a "are you gonna be homophobic to me in thee pride month?" joke when Eddie inevitably gets awkward. Or disgusted. Or pissed even. 

"Anyways, here goes nothing. Or everything." He whispers before closing the door. 

Looks like Buck was five minutes late after all, and that means Eddie's already gone for a shower. Buck waits for him on the sofa. Others seem to have left for the day, when Bobby comes in. 

"Hey kid, you doing okay?"

Damn Bobby and his seventh sense for Buck. He happens to notice the slightest increase in buck fidgeting around, just a bit more than usual. 

"Uh, it's nothing Bobby. I'm just a little tired. Last shift was pretty exhausting. Someone needs to put an instruction board for the Q word. Don't you agree?"

"I will neither accept nor deny the existence of that... myth. But yes, if it eases you all, might as well get one."

Bobby sits besides Buck. Pats him on the shoulder. It's a quite reassurance he does everytime they meet after the whole lab shebang. Buck will even throw in a "I love you Bobby" once in a while. He's working on it. He has this strange moment of pride in having so many to love, and so many to fear losing. 

"You need to take a break, kid. I'm aware why you keep picking up extra work everywhere you can these days. And all the chauffering you do between an active teenager and a firefighter ... Partner."

"It's just for a little longer Bobby. I have kinda saved up a good deal now. I really hope I can get Eddie his car back. It was his last memory of Shannon."

"You're a good kid Buck. Tell me if I can help you in any way. And... Whatever is stressing you right now, it's going to be alright."

Bobby is giving him that look again. The "I'm here to talk if you need to talk but I'll not ask you until you want to" look. Buck feels like the richest person alive right now. Somehow. 

Bobby leaves just as Eddie comes out. Fresh, smelling like lime and - oh. He's got wet hair. No clue as to why Buck's brain is stuck on that one detail. It runs in his mind like a broken record. 

Eddie's waving his hand in front of his eyes now. 

"Hello Buckaroo. You plan on going home or what?"

"Uh. Yes. Yes of course. Let's go. Also, Christopher is at his friends again tonight. The project seems to take a lot of work."

"The project, right. I don't understand what is wrong with the teachers piling up work right now."

Buck realises just how thick Eddie can be sometimes. Dude haa dropped Chris off at Rose's multiple times, has met the girl as well as his other friends. Is he blind. God he needs to tell him before Eddie's head cracks from the sudden burst of information one day. 

“I'll drive today. I know the last shift was a bitch."

"Um yeah sure." Buck doesn't object. He doubts how much of a capacity he's got to focus on the road with Eddie's wet hair and tank top at the moment. Dude's out to get him. And he doesn't even know. 

Buck's anxiety is going up every second and every turn they get closer to home. 

"Buck, is everything okay? You haven't spoken a word. Did something happen at home? Chris okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, everything is fine." Buck is so gonna crash out. He should abandon this plan. But the universe doesn't agree. 

"Your Electric Love" starts playing on the radio. 

"Hey, isn't this the same song Chris was listening to throughout the summer. I think I need to monitor his screentime again. But I don't wanna be strict, I'm scared of upsetting him."

"Don't worry about it Eds. It's just a silly teenager phase he's going through."

They reach home. 

"Do you, um. Have you heard of this song before?"

"Yea, sure. It keeps coming up on my reels because Christopher prolly listened to it so much."

/Christ, you're as thick as it gets/. Buck says in his head. Later, he will be blaming Eddie's shower head, his tank top, his stupidity and the universe putting this song on the radio, for what he's about to do next. 

"Um, Eddie."

"Yeah?"

He wants to aim for his lips, but the moment he faces Eddie for reals, Buck chickens out hard. He grabs his face, and kisses Eddie on the cheek. 

He's trembling very bad after. They don't say anything. 

Buck leaves the jeep in a haste and goes in. His brain is all noise at this point. Not a single coherent thought. He hopes Eddie does not say anything. 

Eddie enters a little after. 

Buck has had prepared what can only be called a homely feast for tonight. The smell almost distracts Eddie. 

Eddie lays down the plates quietly, while Buck is reheating the food. He has a lot to say, but he knows Buck too well to not say it right now. And well, he's hungry as fuck. 

Eddie starts eating the Enchiladas, and an extremely unholy sound leaves his mouth. He seems to like it. Buck smiles. At least one part of the night has gone according to plan.

"Buck, this tastes like home." Eddie's eyes have gone glossy. He hadn't eaten this in a long while. What with the Texas, Pepa's stroke and everything, home made food like this was a rarity.

"Pepa got me the recipe. She was going to help me make them, but had a bad headache. Bobby helped me tweak the recipe a little for whatever stuff we had at home."

"Mmmm whatever it was, it has worked like magic. It's like I'm back home. Both Tia Pepa's home, and back to Bobby's cooking. Thanks man."

They eat the rest of the meal in silence. Except for the ocassional licking of the spoon by Eddie, which is really not making anything easier for Buck.

Eddie's washing the dishes when it hits him these are one of the only special sets they have at home. He looks at Buck, really looks at him for the first time tonight. Buck's wearing his date-night cologne. He smells like lavender now that he notices. It dawns on him, all at once. Christ, good food really can distract you from more important events, and feelings. 

Buck is keeping the leftovers back in the fridge. He has pretty much accepted an unspoken rejection in his head. After all, if Eddie didn't say anything till now he probably hated it, right?

"Buck"

"Yeah?"

"Was this ... A date?"

Buck goes into avoiding mode immediately. It's like he just threw a stone into water, hoping to never see it back. And instead it has sprung double the height to hit him rock hard in the chest. He's not hyperventilating, but he's close. All the funny responses he practiced before die right off his tongue. 

"What, no. I just wanted to do something nice. I'll go do the laundry now. I think we need to get Chris more clothes, he somehow manages to get them dirty every single day. Kid's growing up so fast, we can barely keep up. You know what, there's a new detergent in the market. You wanna give that a try? Maybe it'll work better. Those school uniforms never regain the whiteness. Wait isn't tomorrow culture day? Is it next week? I had checked the schedule-"

Buck is dodging this ball faster than he ever remembers. He's staring at the schedule on the fridge, ready to flee at any moment, but his legs won't move. It doesn't take a genius to see he's nearly shaking. 

Eddie holds his arm, gets him out of his unending monologue.

"Hey, hey. Buck. Buck, I'm here. Breathe. Please. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." 

He moves his hand from Buck's arm to his shoulder. A familiar position, a familiar feeling. It calms Buck down. 

"Buck, was this a date?"

He makes eye contact this time, and doesn't leave. Buck has nowhere to hide. But trapped is the last thing he feels. The only way he can describe those eyes and that hand on his shoulder is "home". 

"Yes."

"I see."

And Buck is back to looking away. Eddie hasn't moved his hand, and that gives him an ugly hundred odd butterflies of hope in his stomach. 

"I know you probably don't feel the same way. It's okay. I'm okay. It doesn't change anything for me. But if it makes you awkward, I can look for another place. Or sleep on the couch for some time. I can, I can- it's okay if you don't want to live with me anymore, or-"

"Buck-" Eddie holds his face in his hands. He has a million thoughts running right now, he's almost on autopilot. Whatever happens, he can't ever have Buck feeling like this. He can never let Buck go. 

"Buck, stop. Breathe. You're not going anywhere. I don't know how many times I have to convince you, but you're family. We are family. You, me and Chris. Nothing will change that. Ever. Okay? And I'll keep reminding you of it as many times as you need do." 

Tears are falling down Buck's eyes now. He wipes them away. 

"As for, the date. Buck, you need to know you are the most important person in my life next to my kid. I can't risk losing you no matter what. You are my best friend, you are my family, my partner. I've never, um, I've never really thought in this direction before. Please give me some time?" 

Buck nods his head. 

"I could go to Maddie's for a few days if you need space. It's okay."

"No. Please don't. This is your home. You're not going anywhere. I just need some time to think." 

It hits Eddie a little hard how unwilling he is to let Buck give him some space. It would technically be good for them after all, he could clear his head about his feelings. But the last few weeks, they've felt so- he can't describe the feeling. But he knows he can't let it go. This home is incomplete without Buck, even for a few days. These last few weeks are the only time he's felt at home in a very long while. It feels like home in ways it didn't feel even with Shannon. 

"Okay. I'm sorry for making this awkward Eds."

"Shut up." Eddie engulfs him in a hug, and Buck holds on tight. It's weird how he feels small in Eddie's arms when he's the bigger one between them. He let's the rest of his tears fall away. 

"Buck"

"Hmm?" He mumbles over Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie feels it through his top.

"You know I love you right? In what way I might not know yet. But I hope you know you mean the world to me. I don't want to live without you or Chris ever again." 

Buck audibly sobs a little at that, and hides his head further into Eddie's shoulder. He's very strongly aware of the weight of those words. 

"Me too, Eds. I love you too." He mumbles. And hopes Eddie heard him. 

...

They sleep on opposite corners of the bed once again, backs facing each other. But both are wide awake.

PLEASE tell me there’s a buddie fic based on the kiss-your-best-friend tiktok trend, im begging

[localfanbaselurker]

HOLY SHIT GUYS. OH MY GOD

[dent-de-leon]

cards I got for tonight: Love, History, The Maiden :')

[luetta]

idk if people on tumblr know about this but a cybersecurity software called crowdstrike just did what is probably the single biggest fuck up in any sector in the past 10 years. it's monumentally bad. literally the most horror-inducing nightmare scenario for a tech company.

some info, crowdstrike is essentially an antivirus software for enterprises. which means normal laypeople cant really get it, they're for businesses and organisations and important stuff.

so, on a friday evening (it of course wasnt friday everywhere but it was friday evening in oceania which is where it first started causing damage due to europe and na being asleep), crowdstrike pushed out an update to their windows users that caused a bug.

before i get into what the bug is, know that friday evening is the worst possible time to do this because people are going home. the weekend is starting. offices dont have people in them. this is just one of many perfectly placed failures in the rube goldburg machine of crowdstrike. there's a reason friday is called 'dont push to live friday' or more to the point 'dont fuck it up friday'

so, at 3pm at friday, an update comes rolling into crowdstrike users which is automatically implemented. this update immediately causes the computer to blue screen of death. very very bad. but it's not simply a 'you need to restart' crash, because the computer then gets stuck into a boot loop.

this is the worst possible thing because, in a boot loop state, a computer is never really able to get to a point where it can do anything. like download a fix. so there is nothing crowdstrike can do to remedy this death update anymore. it is now left to the end users.

it was pretty quickly identified what the problem was. you had to boot it in safe mode, and a very small file needed to be deleted. or you could just rename crowdstrike to something else so windows never attempts to use it.

it's a fairly easy fix in the grand scheme of things, but the issue is that it is effecting enterprises. which can have a looooot of computers. in many different locations. so an IT person would need to manually fix hundreds of computers, sometimes in whole other cities and perhaps even other countries if theyre big enough.

another fuck up crowdstrike did was they did not stagger the update, so they could catch any mistakes before they wrecked havoc. (and also how how HOW do you not catch this before deploying it. this isn't a code oopsie this is a complete failure of quality ensurance that probably permeates the whole company to not realise their update was an instant kill). they rolled it out to everyone of their clients in the world at the same time.

and this seems pretty hilarious on the surface. i was havin a good chuckle as eftpos went down in the store i was working at, chaos was definitely ensuring lmao. im in aus, and banking was literally down nationwide.

but then you start hearing about the entire country's planes being grounded because the airport's computers are bricked. and hospitals having no computers anymore. emergency call centres crashing. and you realised that, wow. crowdstrike just killed people probably. this is literally the worst thing possible for a company like this to do.

crowdstrike was kinda on the come up too, they were starting to become a big name in the tech world as a new face. but that has definitely vanished now. to fuck up at this many places, is almost extremely impressive. its hard to even think of a comparable fuckup.

a friday evening simultaneous rollout boot loop is a phrase that haunts IT people in their darkest hours. it's the monster that drags people down into the swamp. it's the big bag in the horror movie. it's the end of the road. and for crowdstrike, that reaper of souls just knocked on their doorstep.