#sounds to me like a seal of approval:3

[lovelaced-tiffanys]

Idk if I ever posted these here but more Saint Makoto to populate the tag bc y not?

[jazeswhbhaven]

Huge Announcement from PrettyBusy! 1.10

First, this is quite long btw, if you'd like to read it for yourself please look on their website! They haven't uploaded it on their social medias just yet, but also check WHB Updates on twt in case I miss anything. I'm really only going to highlight the stuff I care about and wish to speak on! But overall there's a lot they're changing up and giving us in the future so this shows promise.

So! I like the timing of their pacing of releasing new chapters. I want them to take their time, the writers especially to give us some good stuff to read because I highly doubt they're gonna change the amount of battles between each story node. .-. And if they do then great!

They do give some info about friend systems (getting materials and items by having friends etc.) the Minhyeok mini game and additional chats being added.

So it seems here that we will get to battle the angels for additional items. They say you can loot them from their realms...so I wonder how this is going to go! Though it sounds like these battles are going to be harder than usual so make sure to beef up your teams/cards since the conditions need to be met.

SKRUNKLY MAMMON („ಡωಡ„)

But yay birthday stuff! I'm hoping they do it before my birthday date which is later in that month...because otherwise I'd have to wait until next year :(

Also they say that we will get to decorate the lobby with a single theme, icon packages will be added in the future, but they will give us icons for all the devils for the ones we have it sounds like.

Stickers of Ppyong are rewarded, they say 'line' so it makes me think of the messaging service LINE but I'm not sure if that's what they mean.

Now here's the big one

So now when we hit the pity threshold we will be able to select the character we want instead of just hoping we get whichever one we want. This is a big thumbs up from me because I think if ppl are throwing in that much money they should get what they want.

Now to address the 500 monthly Solomon Seals. They are letting us collect this by attendance and quests. I'm fine with that because I already do this with the Solomon Tears. I did peep some complaints (very few though) that didn't like the fact that they had to do stuff in order to get it. Come on now guys, you didn't think they were just gonna give us paid currency for free each month. Even I know better.

AND the Pancake Shop change. This one I am a bit worried about simply because what they highlighted sounds like it may or may not turn out to be what we expected in terms of spending and using our Pancakes to get items/characters we want. Also peep that in the future when we pull, when we get duplicates of Devils and cash them in for currency it will reward us with Gold and Tomes for the lower grade, and Nightmare Pancakes for the higher grade devils.

They did say that they are OPEN to criticism once the shop releases, so be ready to email them if this new Pancake system does not work for you. And a quick thing about the Nightmare Pass is that they did listen that other countries have to pay much more in pricing for things like this so they are open to lowering the price in the future. But this statement made me laugh ->

idk about any of you, but this read to me as "Yeah I'm tired of ya'll asking us for stuff when we do so much"

Like aight PB I hear you...I see you... (btw this isn't meant to be negative, I know very well what they mean)

So for Enviroment Changes (I'm assuming for gameplay) here are the highlights

-Reducing the Ultimate scenes by half (meaning it will be on the screen less during battle) -adding illustrations from past events into the album -boss skill window (idk who asked for this but cool) -faster annoucements about new characters and release schedules

So for January no new characters (bummer, but I understand) They say they are doing this because it takes them about 2-3 weeks to get the characters approved or any additional events and stories approved before they can confidently announce when we will see them.

It is crucial that we as players give them grace on this because given the nature of the game they have to jump through a lot of damn hoops to get things approved and the industry is realllllyyyy against NSFW stuff lately especially the higher up the ladder folks and will reject just about anything they don't like. I've seen people literally have to pull projects because the big man said "Nah not in this house" But PB is trying and that's what counts. They at least were transparent here that they don't want us to get our hopes up until things are certain.

And just a little message from them. Reminding us that they are a small production crew and that they are trying their best with all the resources they have at hand.

We all may have our thoughts about how they run things and it's natural because we're human, but the devs are at least listening and showing that they are willing to change and work around our needs the best they can for a better gaming experience. Now I do forsee some stuff is gonna piss us off, but that's a given. All we can do is give them feedback when it's due!!

[xxavengingangelxx]

Somewhere Only We Know 3/?

Part threeeee! I feel kind iffy about this one. Smurt starts so MDNI! 18+ I feel like the smut is not my best work but there will definitely be more smut in the future chapters :)

Taglist! @bellgraves, @unicorngirly1, @josieguts, @lily-lily131313, @shepgurl - if you'd like to be added, lemme know! ;)

Val feels like she has no choice but to return to Shadow Company for numerous reasons.

EDIT: Forgot to add! Q and A. Will Graves get more affectionate? I've gotten that question a LOOOT. Yes. But like all men he just found out and is a little overwhelmed 😉

-

You didn’t know how much time had passed when Price excused himself to take a phone call. Someone had called him three times back-to-back.

You knew who it was didn���t you?

-

Price wasn’t allowed to wander off very far. That small wing of the hospital you were in had been sealed off. No one enters or exits except for the police and the military.

Your suspicion was confirmed so were you really surprised when you heard Graves’s voice on the other end of that phone? Years of explosions and gunfire didn’t allow Price to turn the volume low enough that your younger, less exposed ears couldn’t pick it up. And because of how close the perimeter of that hospital wing was you heard every…word.

“Price,” Graves’s voice was tight, on-edge, dangerous and you wondered if someone had pissed him off right before.

“Graves,” Price spat back. “Was beginnin’ ta think Laswell had finally approved that airstrike you were nothin’ but ashes.”

“Haha,”

“Sorry,” Price added, “but I constant’ly fantasize about ya dying.”

“Knock this shit off,” Graves warned. “You have two people I’m interested in.” Graves paused before adding, “One I haven’t quite met yet.”

Price’s silence told you he was in shock.

Why did Graves sound so fucking terrifying today?

“Bloody ‘ell,” Price gasped. “How’d you—”

“I have eyes everywhere,” Graves said darkly. “A thing you might not know about southern culture, ya Brit. We like to keep our families together.”

“And you see Val as family? She’s not your wife ya fuckin’ psycho’.”

“No, she is. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

And you don’t know why that line made your breath catch in your throat. You knew Graves was obsessed with you but what exactly did he mean by that?

“You’re such a sick fuck,”

“Get her back to me.”

“I can’t override an arrest warrant,” Price shot back.

“Figure it out,” Graves snapped. “Or Makarov wins and World War III starts. I have the money and the connections to hide me and my family. Do you?”

-

You didn’t know you were still crying until the tears rolled down your face as a female soldier (no, not a police officer but a soldier) patted you down. The UK military was pissed enough to detain you because you’d released the codes to 141’s homing beacons. You had denied torture and refused to say anything against Graves or Shepherd. So they saw it as you betrayed 141 and willingly gave them up. You and Graves had worked together that night, hadn’t you? At least that’s what it looked like on the outside looking in. All the digging they’d done had revealed hushed secrets of how you two had been inappropriately involved with each other pretty much since you’d met.

You had mugshots taken for the first time in your life. They took pictures of every visible scar. You wondered why this wasn’t done at the detention facility and you were told it was in case you or someone who fancied you just happened to bust you out from the facility or even got to you before you even got there. So they’d have pictures of you to show the world and help re-capture you.

You were given a bulletproof vest because you’d made the news and had been labeled a traitor. You were loathed. There had been threats on your life. The news loves making people look horrible don’t they? You wondered if the news knew about your situation. Graves knew. And you really didn’t know how to feel about that. You couldn’t even get away from him by being arrested and detained.

You were never going to get away from Graves were you? You didn’t exactly hate it, though. But it also scared you, didn’t it?

You were chained like you were some outlaw (you kinda were though, weren’t you?). The fact that you could pick handcuffs and liked swing at authority figures had gotten around and so your cuffs were anchored to a chain around your waist. Not too tight. They didn’t want you, a sue-happy American, to sue them if you just so happened to lose that pregnancy.

“You’re really gonna let yourself get locked up instead of sayin’ somethin’, anythin’ against that son of a bitch?” Price asked.

“Just watch out for Graves and Shepherd, Captain,” you stated. “He might like me. But he won’t think twice about killing you. Make sure you and your boys stay safe.”

“You make it sound like you’re sacrificin’ yaself.”

“I can keep him distracted just enough.”

-

The sunlight was bright and it reminded you of how much you hated sunny days. The noise was overwhelming. News crews, people shouting at you, calling you a traitor. So you just glanced down, using your hair to hide your face. 141, for all you had done against them in the last 3 months, shielded you as best as they could.

Soap even pulled your hood over your head and you almost cried at the kindness of it. Also, pregnancy hormones.

It was cold.

You were about to be put into a military vehicle when a familiar voice, a demanding voice, told them to stop and turn around.

It was impossible to understand what was being said outside with all the noise. So you all went back inside, into the warmth of the hospital.

Granted you couldn’t move much. Cuffs anchored to your waist and leg irons. That thin bulletproof vest was tight on you, straps drawn snug. Graves indeed hadn’t been lying that they were going to treat you like a fucking prisoner, a good for nothing. And that was one of the reasons you kept your faith in Graves. You were weirdly bonded to him. You didn’t love him and you were sure he didn’t love you. But it seemed like you both were stuck together for the time being.

Maybe forever. You were obsessed. Maybe just as much as he was. Maybe a little less, though.

But the man here in person? General Shepherd.

“Graves told me what happened,” Shepherd stated. He removed his sunglasses.

“It’s none of yer business,” Price snapped.

“No, it is because she’s mine.”

“No, your Shadow piece o’ shit kidnapped ‘er. And now he’s fuckin’ stalkin’ her.”

“We had reason to believe she was collaborating with Hassan as she was the only one we found. Wandering all alone.” Shepherd paused before adding, “Like an abandoned puppy. That’s the term Graves used. And abandoned puppies need new homes, don’t they?”

Price full on growled. “Thas’ some bullshit excuse ya have. It won’t make sense on paper.”

“But it will,” Shepherd grinned that shit-eating grin he had. It was the same grin you imagined him having when Graves took that initial hostage video all those months ago. “And it did,”

Price was handed papers. What they said you couldn’t read. The print was too small.

“Val here was abandoned by her task force. We took her in, interrogated her, revealed she had nothin’ to hide.” Price signaled at the documents in Price’s hands, shaking with anger. “We did not, under any condition torture her.”

Shepherd looked at you, smirking before adding, “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

“They didn’t hurt me,” you confirmed. You lied. You lied to protect Shepherd, Shadow Company, and most importantly, Graves. Something deep inside told you this would not be the last time lying for them. If this shit was brought to court or congress, you’d keep lying to protect Graves without a second thought.

“Val, ser’ously?” Price glared and if looks could kill, Shepherd would’ve died on the spot.

“She’s been with Shadows for 3 months. She’s mine now.” Shepherd demanded. “Hand ‘er over,”

“She’s not goin’ with ya,” Soap snapped. “Ya’ll done enough.”

“Don’t make me get my boys. You sure as fuck don’t want me getting Graves. He’s pissed. Has been. And when he’s mad he gets trigger happy.” Shepherd smirked. “Now go on ahead and get Graves’s little miss outta those cuffs. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. Don’t why ya’ll would treat a lady like that.”

“You’ve lost your mind…again, Gen’ral,” Price snapped. “She’s lookin’ at a court martial. US and UK want her here.”

“Let me put it in simpler terms for you,” That smirk never left Shepherd’s face. “Give me the girl. Give me my soldier or we all lose.”

“You don’t have to go with him,” Price muttered from next to you. “We can get a court to look at this,” He signaled at the pages which you still hadn’t bothered to try reading. “You have a choice,”

“I want Graves,” you said confidently.

The police officer, a new one, looked at Price, his gaze asking what he should do. Release, not release? Detain?

“You’re gonna go back to the company that fucked you up so bad you tried to kill ya’self?” Price paused before adding, “Is’ not jus’ about jus’ you anymore, Val. You have someone else to think about. Don’t do this.”

You shrugged. Because it really was. The bond you had with Graves was intense. Plus, you’d stay out of prison. You did have a child to think about. And the last fucking thing you wanted was you in prison in the UK, Graves in prison in the US, and your child in that horrible foster care system. You’d run before you let that happen.

“We’ll get them after all this, Val,” Price muttered so only you could hear. “They’ll rot in prison.”

“Release her. Now.” Shepherd demanded of the officer. “They’ve removed her AWOL status and transferred her to Shadow.”

“You better sleep with one eye open, mate,” were the last words Price said to Shepherd before you walked out of that hospital with said general free of restraints.

-

Shepherd didn’t say much in the truck. At least not at first. You rubbed your wrists because they cuffs on your wrists had been on too damn tight.

It was you and Shepherd. That was it. You wondered where Graves was. “You’ve done good work, soldier. Graves asked for you by name. Pulled a few strings and got this done because Graves is my best.”

You didn’t say a word. You’d thanked him earlier anyway. Well, that is except to ask, “Where’s Graves?”

“A safehouse,” Shepherd responded. “What’d you tell ‘em, soldier?”

“Nothing, sir.” You responded. “They threatened me with prison but I didn’t say shit. Respectfully.”

“We’ll pull the hospital records,”

“I’ve nothing to hide, sir.”

Shepherd paused before adding, “Don’t disappoint my top man,” Shepherd warned. “He’s gonna be your Shadow for the rest of your life. Told me he’s not letting you go.”

“No, sir. I won’t, sir.”

“He asks you to get on your knees, your response is how low, understand?”

“Yessir,” you felt like he was selling you to Graves.

“Ya ever thought about letting him fuck a kid into ya?”

Your head snapped to look in his direction next to you. Did he know?

“Would be nice to leave all this to family,” Shepherd stated simply. He saw you as something to be used. Was that why he’d said all those months ago he wanted you specifically working for them? A female? A female Shepherd knew Graves had a thing for?

Shepherd chuckled that cold laugh before adding, “I know ya’ll been fuckin’ since you met pretty much. He’s been obsessed with you.”

Was he kidding? And at that second something deep inside you told you Graves might like that you’re carrying his kid. There was no getting away from him now, was there? Even if you wanted to. Where the hell did you think you were going to hide with his kid?

“No offense, sir,” you replied after catching your breath, “That’s not why we—”

“That’s it’s God-given purpose,” he interrupted. “He’d be perfect.”

Who--? Hell, Shepherd was already obsessed with the kid and Shepherd didn’t even know the kid existed. Right? And you didn’t like that, not one bit.

“Product of two of my best soldiers, raised by Shadows, in the field.”

You weren’t sure if Shepherd took your ensuing silence as a form of defiance or as a form of acceptance.

You wished it was just you. Just you going back to Graves, no kid. But you were stuck now, weren’t you? You didn’t think your IUD would fail. But it did. You had less than a one percent chance of getting pregnant but here you were. And that was why you’d made that decision, amongst other reasons, sure. The decision to keep him. Him because you felt it was a boy.

Because maybe while you distracting Graves wasn’t enough, maybe you and his kid would distract Graves enough for him to leave 141 alone.

You just hated an innocent life was involved.

-

“Did you really raise that much hell?” Graves’s voice from behind you light a fire under your heart. He must’ve noticed your brief injuries.

“You told me to raise hell so I did,”

“Atta girl,” Graves smirked.

You couldn’t help it. You reached out and hugged him, gear and all.

And surprisingly?

He hugged back.

“Good ‘ta have you back,” Graves said, his voice tickling your hair as he rested his chin on your head.

-

You hoped into a hot shower the second you could. You scratched your skin raw trying to get those tape marks off your arms from when the hospital had started an IV sedated you that one day. You had tape marks all up and down your arms from all the times they’d drawn blood, marks around your wrists from the handcuffs and restraints.

“Don’t make yourself bleed, darlin,’” Graves chided. He’d been watching you through the clear glass shower door.

“I want it off,” you almost pouted.

He was naked when he joined you and you couldn’t help but eye him up and down shamelessly. He did the same to you. His eyes stopped on your breasts and on his favorite spot between your legs.

“They hurt you, didn’t they?”

His eyes lingered on the tape burn on your face from the duct tape pulled off your mouth three days ago. On the scrape your cheek showed after being yanked onto the ground face first when you hit a police officer in the face. And finally, to those scratch marks on your arms from trying to take the medical tape residue off.

You had indeed made yourself bleed.

“Only a little,” you contested.

“They’ll never have ya’ll again,” Graves promised.

And that confirmed he knew. He knew it wasn’t just you anymore.

You got on your toes. The hot water had you both sweating. Your hair was in loose curls over your shoulders and his blonde hair falling over his forehead. His hair almost looked light brown when it was wet and hanging on his forehead. Your lips met his briefly before he pressed his lips onto yours, his tongue sweeping your mouth possessively. You raised your hands to his shoulders, to the nape of his neck, the strong stinging pain of scratch mark wounds forgotten.

He placed two strong hands on your hips before gripping your ass and effortlessly lifting you. You, out of habit, wrapped your legs around his waist. He pressed you onto the cold tile behind you, making you gasp and hiss and arch your back.

When you arched your back, you felt him, hot and thick and hard, at your entrance.

“That desperate are we?”

You gave him a lustful glare and an exasperated huff while he scoffed in response.

Graves ran his teeth just along your jawline, making you moan. You caught yourself and reminded yourself to be quiet. This was a safehouse, not a black site. It meant noise traveled through the walls like they weren’t there. It wasn’t like back on base where the walls were concrete. And absorbed all the sound.

“We’re alone,”

You moaned more at his words.

“Lick my fingers,” Graves commanded. He had you pinned against the wall, his hot, thick cock just touching your entrance. You mewled, trying to get him inside you.

So you obeyed. You ran your hot tongue over his fingers as he held them in front of your face.

“Show me how you’re gonna take me,” Graves added in a low growl.

Graves suddenly released you and your knees almost gave out.

You wanted him. You needed him.

“On your knees,”

You obeyed instantly. You fucking loved that despite your delicate situation he was still willing to insert at least a little dominance in the bedroom.

Without him asking you to, you took his hard length into your mouth.

Graves gasped and moaned, throwing his head back and catching his hair in the hot spray of the shower.

-

It wasn’t long before Graves was on top of you, in bed. You were both still drenched from the shower but it wasn’t like either of you cared. You’d started sucking him off and after pulling you off of him he’d started to work his fingers inside of you before he’d abruptly cut off the water.

Now here you were, drenched hair sprawled out behind you while Graves had bruising grips on your thighs as you felt him mercilessly use his lips, teeth, and tongue to taste you.

You felt like you needed him to totally own you. To take your mind off that burning pain from where you’d scratched yourself so hard you’d cut yourself open earlier, from what you’d learned from your hospital stay, from all the shit you’d been through. So you said those key words…the key words that let him know you wanted him to fuck you almost into unconsciousness, that gave him permission to leave marks on you.

“Graves, show me who I belong to,”

But to your surprise?

“No,” came the growled reply from between your legs.

“What?” you glanced down and the sight that met you almost made you gasp. Graves, his hands still grasping your thighs, his pupils wide with lust, his chin damp from your arousal, his hair sticking to his damp forehead.

You wondered if maybe you tasted differently. Could he taste that he completely owned you, marked you forever? You were carrying his child. How much more could he own you?

“No, Val,” Graves repeated, his gaze not leaving yours. “Tonight I’m just gonna relearn every fucking inch of your body.”

So after he’d edged you twice and finally let you cum on his lips, he was finally inside you.

And that’s when time seemed to slow down. It felt like you had been apart from Graves your months when in reality it had been a few days. You wondered if this is what addiction felt like. Every time he moved inside you it was like you both moaned in unison. You heard him say something but you couldn’t quite decipher it. Your brain was jelly.

You could feel yourself getting close and he would stop. You whined at the feeling. You wanted to beg him to continue, to fuck you until you couldn’t talk, couldn’t walk.

But every time you’d open your mouth to beg, he’d seal it with his own. And you’d feel him smile, chuckle. The bastard knew what he was doing. So instead of getting rough, he was edging you. He was relearning you and ensuring himself he still knew every inch of you by making sure his cock reached so deep inside you until it could go no further.

“Say my name,” finally came the command. Apparently your ears had stopped working because you knew that tone of voice. Graves had had to repeat this command more than once.

“Fuck me, Graves,” you gasped as his hips stuttered, making your insides flutter.

Graves talked again, but you had trouble hearing him over your own moans and filthy words begging him

Fuck you harder.

Graves grabbed your shoulders and shook you hard enough to get your attention. Not nearly as hard as when he’d fucked you before you were ‘rescued’ by 141. There was a gentleness to his motions that he’d never shown before and you wondered why. Before reminding yourself: you’re pregnant. He was still buried inside you and you arched your back, trying to get him deeper into you.

“Say my full name,”

So that’s exactly what you did.

You said his full name, Phillip Graves, as you came a second time, this time around his cock and felt as his thrusts got sloppy and rough and hard while he came undone inside of you.

-

End notes: This is gonna get soooo complicated! :o

[writing-frenzy]

Beautiful Disaster AU

So, here I am, on a serious Shang Qinghua/Airplane bro binge because sometimes you just crave a thing and can't let go, and I ended up getting inspired by these two posts :) Link and Link So here I go.

Edit: Forgor to set a link for part two, my bad.

Also, here is this poem that also inspired a thing and also gave the name for this AU~

`Beautiful Disaster~ By Nikita Gill If he tastes like the rainfall, Looks like a summer storm, Fights for you like a forest fire; he's a tornado of trouble. (And you need to hold on to him and never ever let him go.)

So yeah, I took a look at that, and thought it actually fit both Shen Jiu and SQH/Airplane well, if in different ways. (Shen Jiu the tornado and Airplane bro the forest fire, but oh, how SJ fights like lightening in a storm, ready to burn everything away, while SQH is tricky like the wind, saving most of his energy for when it really matters until you can't see anything past the wails and talismans.)

So yeah, watch me stumble into a scumplane with Ghost!Shen Jiu :3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It starts ever so simply, Shen Jiu watching as that fake is so happily accepted, all the other Peak Lords seeming to rejoice at having them there, even the disciples pleased and ever so willing to bark for the man wearing his face, the little beast practically panting after him every step he takes.

It disgusts him, makes him grind his teeth, makes him want to scream, shout, curse like he hasn't since he was just a desperate slave, how many visit his former home, his sanctuary now a cage of bamboo and frustration, rage, and bitterness. Watches how Peak Lord after Peak Lord visits, each charmed, some slowly, some in less than a second, guests of all types and titles leaving yet obviously wanting to stay.

All except for one.

"Ha-hahaaa, hello Peak Lord Shen, I'm here to deliver the order forms for the new training instruments and inkstones." The An Ding Peak Lord, Shang Qinghua laughs weakly, even as the fake narrows eyes at him over his favored fan. Shen Jiu glares, wishing he could rip it to shreds, throw it away, burn it so that it is no longer being defiled by this body snatcher.

"You may leave them with my disciples, Ming Fan or Binghe can take care of it." is the dismissive response of this other, lesser fake goods, even as Shen Jiu wants to scream.

"These are my duties; these are the responsibilities of a Peak Lord, you cannot hand them off to mere children, much less the beast." The real Shen QingQiu wants to howl, but it only comes out as whispered words through clenched teeth, the ghost not able to open his mouth for the anger choking him.

"Ah, about that my fellow Peak Lord, these contents are not for the eyes of disciples, I'll need your seal of approval on them as well." Shang Qinghua seems to wince, sounding rather apologetic, but it is this refusal that gains Shen Jiu's attention, actually surprised to hear someone being reasonable since the switch happened.

(The first time he's seen anyone actually refuse his cuckoo of a replacement.)

And is just in time to see the cold, cutting calculation the supposedly 'apologetic' man hides with his bowed head, before it is gone just as fast as he raises it.

It is the start of his interest in Shang Qinghua, that man he considered a rat in life, only to show just how clever he is after Shen Jiu died.

Watches how the man sneakily tests the fake, teas for cleansing snuck in here and there, talismans deceptively hidden in paintings, vases of flowers that detect malevolent, demonic energies.

And even with none of it being triped, the Fake able to somehow breeze past all these tests, Shang Qinghua still watches, guarded and suspicious, without ever letting his cuckoo even suspect it.

It is... gratifying, even if it is from that rat, to know someone still does not trust in what they see, that they too judge the fake and decide to actually question it. It is more than what his own disciples have done.

(It is more than what his Qi-ge has given, still ever so tolerant, ravished as he is for any crumbs, he can fucking get like the dogs they were.)

Changes only happen after what is apparently a disastrous conference, with intriguing, if terrifying secrets coming to light.

"Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky!"

"Peerless Cumber?!"

Hearing their words, it brings in new consideration for his circumstances, makes his already yin filled core seem to freeze at just what he is hearing.

Some kind of fate that forces you into another's dead body, chains one to follow it with little hope for change, even forcing a literary god from the sounds of it to be reborn into a human, never actually expecting their words to come to life, just trying to live as it were like any other storyteller from the streets.

(Remembers how any damage he does is just as quickly erased, as if it has never happened, as if there isn't a resentful ghost clawing at the walls, ready to destroy any in its way at the first chance it gets.)

Shang Qinghua, or Airplane as it were, visits more after that, plotting and planning with his bodysnatcher, who while he still hates, would be willing to gut if possible (but... can understand, so painfully understand being forced and chained, even if he was lucky enough his Masters were very much mortal at least).

But while there are no longer any suspicions in those eyes (the calculations are of course still there), they are instead replaced by a... mournful quality?

?

"Rest in Peace, Shen-Shixiong." is said in the middle of the night one day, when his fake has long since slept, the words like a whisper in the wind. In his mind's eye, he can smell the incense of sandalwood and jasmine, with an offering of melon seeds beside it...

...!

oh...

... Not once, not since he has been stuck in his home, has he heard his Shang-Shidi call the imposter Shixiong...

For that night, Shen Jiu stares at one of the pictures on the walls of his bamboo house, keen eyes seeing the subtle symbols for mourning on it, a subtle 9 easily hidden among the strokes if one was not a master like himself, the rage a quiet thing tonight as he thinks.

-

And then, one day, seemingly normal for all it is a quiet day at his peak, Shen Jiu finds that whatever was trapping him, caging him, chaining him to his bamboo house turned prison is gone.

He doesn't miss his chance, out the door before his mind can catch up, before he fully realizes he has been freed. It is only once he is off his mountain, out from that sect, away from everyone, that Shen Jiu realizes he has a choice.

He can feel it, he can feel his body even with the distance he is, knows exactly which direction to go if he wants to reclaim it. And he could, he could do so rather easily he can tell, whatever link between it and chained binding his imposter had gone...

...But why should he?

Why should he? Why should he go back to all those so willing to trade him for his knock off, why should he go back to people who will only be disappointed in the return of the 'old Shen-QingQiu' even if it is the true one.

Why should he debase himself to go crawling back to people in a body even more wrecked then his Qi-Deviation left it, all wanting something he is not and will never be?

(Go to see that panting, drooling Beast, to the desperate, stalking Brute, to that disappointing, clinging to scraps and fakes Brother Sect Leader?

To see those calculating, distrusting, mournful brown eyes? As weak as he is now? Not worthy to even be called Shixiong.)

Shen Jiu pauses, turning aways from where he can feel his body, where all those lies and expectations are, into a different direction, where death calls and the yin energy beacons any foolish or ambitious or both to answer.

He can feel it in his distant bones, trembling in his ghostly yin qi running through his spiritual body, his other choice.

The Gates of the City of Gu are about to open.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note:

*Me looking at Airplane, his trust issues, his knowledge of just how fucked up his story could be, thinking of alllllll those wife plots and the trickery* No way this man didn't try a few ways to see if Shen QingQiu was possessed by something or another; not that he doubts the all knowing sword, but yeah, he doubts the fucking sword.

Also, if anyone were to find out that Airplane was technically the creator god, I headcanon people would assume he was a literary god who either gained too much power on accident or some other gods decided to fuck around for shits and giggles because they could.

Also, Shen Jiu would be smart enough to figure out about the system, even if he doesn't know exactly what it is, the concept he understands fucking terrifies him; no way would he go back into his body giving the choice, being so weak from without a cure and whatever the fuck the imposter did to it to where he can go back. He'll take his fucking chances.

(Besides... his Shidi like demons well enough, why not a Calamity?) :3

[littlemissmanga]

oooh for the kiss prompt, may I please request:

3. their lips on yours, hot, feverish, partly sucking, teasing with their tongue (OMG-)

with Jesse or Wolffe

thank you so much for being amazing 🤩

Oh yes you may! And I only return the amazing I receive, my dear, so this is a community effort :)

Hm, it's a tough choice but I think I'm feeling Jesse today. Just feeling that particular brand of intense.

Pairing: Jesse x reader

w/c: 663

SFW but very suggestive, no warnings, just fluff

He needed to see you.

That was the only thought running through his head, the only thing that mattered in this moment. The guilt at not helping his brothers settle in after such a tough mission can come tomorrow.

Tonight, he planned on getting lost in you.

He keyed in the code to your front door. Your singing is the first thing he registered as he made sure the door locked behind him. His armor trailed behind him as he moved inside, following the sound of your voice into the kitchen.

There you are.

He could cry with how beautiful you were. Karking vibrant as you moved effortlessly in your own space, putting away dishes like it was a choreographed performance, your hips swinging to the beat you were singing.

You were everything good, and sweet, and kind, and pure in this galaxy. Everything he longed but never hoped for.

Everything you insisted he deserved.

He wasn’t so sure of that, not with the specter of old battles haunting him. But he also wasn’t a good enough man to care, not when you gave yourself to him so happily.

“Can I cut in?”

 You yelped, and Jesse was glad he chose to stay in the entry based on how you flailed about, surprised by his voice.

“Jesse!” Your tone was a mix of annoyed and overjoyed and he had never heard anything so lovely. You flew across the kitchen, forcing him to catch you as you threw yourself into his arms.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Jesse grumbled into your ear, his hold around you tightening. He let his hands mold to the curve of your frame, relishing in the feel of you securely against him. He could feel each breath you took as your chest expanded against his, and yet he was compelled to pull you even closer.

“How long do I have you?”

“Four days.”

He could feel your smile form against his neck. It was more than he usually got.

“Lucky.” Jesse looked down as he felt you pull back and look up at him. “You’ve got lousy timing. I just finished cleaning up. You’re lucky you’re cute, though. I don’t mind dirtying up the kitchen again. What d’ya want for dinner? I’ve got some tip yi—"

He cut you off with the seal of his lips against yours. Food wasn’t going to satisfy him. He needed you, and he needed you to need him just as fiercely.

Jesse walked you back to trap you against the wall, his hips meeting yours as he pressed himself against you, trapping you as his tongue darted out to tease your soft lips. Satisfaction hummed pleasantly through his body as you melted from his touch.

Your mouth dropped open at his insistence, and he couldn’t resist gently taking your lower lip between his own and sucking, soothing the strain after with the swipe of his tongue.

Gods, he couldn’t get enough of those sweet moans you made just for him.

“Sorry baby. I couldn’t wait another second. Needed my mouth on you. Needed you right here against me.” His apology was half sincere at best. Tomorrow he can be sorry for interrupting, for taking what he needed.

You pushed up against him to hold your lips against his as you said, “Don’t be sorry. I’ve missed you, too.”

Jesse pushed forward, done with teasing touches at your approval. He claimed your mouth with his, stealing the very breath from your lungs and replacing it with himself. You returned his frenzy, trailing your tongue against his before pulling back enough to nip at his lip, the shock of the sting shooting straight to his groin.

With a growl from deep in his chest, Jesse broke away, distracted for only a split second by the string of saliva connecting his lips to your sinful tongue, still poking out of your open mouth.

“Bedroom. Now,” he rasped, enamored at how quickly you jumped to follow his command, pulling him behind you to your bedroom door so you could both get what you needed.

[rosanna-writer]

Dress

Summary: Sparks are flying between Mor and Emerie. And fortunately for them, the rest of Nesta's bridesmaids love to play matchmaker. Warnings: None Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~2.7k

A fluffy Emorie oneshot for @sjmromanceweek Day 3: Weddings! You can read it below or Here on AO3.

It started with a dress fitting.

Nesta's entire bridal party—Feyre, Elain, Gwyn, Emerie, and Mor—had squeezed themselves into a dressmaker's shop tucked away in a corner of the Palace of Thread and Jewels, ready for one last round of pinning and hemming before her upcoming mating ceremony.

The dresses matched, a nod to human traditions intended to confuse any faeries who might make mischief for the happy couple. Rhys had chosen them—Nesta had requested a soft shade of violet and instructed her brother-in-law to handle selecting a style that suited everyone and accommodated wings. He'd more than delivered.

Emerie emerged from a dressing room, awkwardly reaching under her wings for the buttons on the back of the dress. "Gwyn, can I get a hand with this?"

"Sorry, still changing!" Gwyn called from another dressing room.

"Mor, go help her," Feyre said, an unexpected note of command creeping into her voice, as if this were a matter of life and death. The voice of the High Lady.

That was odd—Mor would have offered anyway. But perhaps Feyre was just concerned with making sure everything went smoothly for her sister's mating ceremony.

Emerie turned, and Mor stepped closer. She was no stranger to Illyrian wings, but there was something different about standing at the center of Emerie's impressive wingspan.

Something that Mor felt right behind her ribs, almost like a tug on a string tied around her heart.

Emerie twisted her head to peer over her shoulder. "Alright back there?"

"The buttons are just harder to find than I'd originally thought," Mor said, and thank the Mother the words came out sounding cheerful and—more importantly—normal.

It wasn't a lie, either; Rhys had chosen gowns with a hidden button placket. Mor gripped the fabric with one hand, her knuckles brushing Emerie's warm skin. The backless design showed off the swirling tattoos that ran up her spine, over her shoulders, and down the tops of her arms, a new addition she'd earned after the Blood Rite.

It would be so easy to trace them, slowly trailing a hand up the center of her back. Mor imagined the way the other female might arch into her touch, the noises she'd make if Mor dared to caress the membrane of her wings….

But she was supposed to be getting Emerie into the dress, not out of it. Mor shook her head as if to clear it, then kept her fingers steady as she made quick work of fastening the buttons.

"All done," Mor said, taking a step back.

"Need me to do you next?"

Mor flushed crimson, as if she were a schoolgirl and not the seasoned five-hundred-year-old warrior she was. There was something in Emerie's smile that was just a bit too knowing.

Just a crush. A crush. Nothing more, and that tug in her chest had been so subtle that she'd probably imagined it.

Mor had already done up her own buttons herself—it was easier without wings in the way. She tamped down the strange sense of disappointment. "No, but thank you. Maybe next time."

Gods, why had she responded to the question as if it had been an invitation?

Something sparked in Emerie's eyes. "I'll keep that in mind."

Perhaps if Mor hadn't been quite so flustered, she would have noticed Gwyn flashing Feyre a grin and an approving thumbs-up.

And what started with a dress fitting, continued with the invitations.

Emerie hadn't understood why Nesta had been so insistent she needed help sealing envelopes. Apparently it wouldn't do to simply magic them closed, even though most of the guests who weren't family were the priestesses who'd trained with them or the few Illyrians who liked Cassian. The invitations weren't going far. But Nesta was happy, so Emerie would limit herself to rolling her eyes only when her friend's back was turned.

The other two Archerons and Mor were already in the sitting room in the House of Wind when Emerie made her way down after training. A pile of cards and envelopes covered the table.

Elain smiled sweetly at her. "I have seeds for your garden," she said, indicating a packet she'd placed at the chair to her right. The chair across from Mor.

Perhaps Emerie should have been suspicious, but Elain's smile was the picture of innocence. And they had struck up a conversation about the upcoming planting season last time Nesta had them all over for dinner at the House of Wind.

Emerie shrugged off the top half of her leathers, revealing the tight undershirt she wore beneath. Mor's throat bobbed. Or perhaps it hadn't and that was just stupid, wishful thinking on Emerie's part.

She sank into the chair and eyed the size of the pile. "I didn't think the guest list was that large?"

"Official mating announcements need to be sent out, too," Elain said, a bit primly.

Gwyn snickered. "In case you forgot, Em, Nesta is technically a princess."

Emerie supposed that was true—Nesta was the High Lady's sister, and if the mating ceremony was small, perhaps the cards were making up for it. She didn't know how the High Fae nobility did things. Maybe this was just tradition.

Maybe she wasn't actually being set up for something.

Or she definitely was because Nesta smirked, looked her in the eye, and said, "The envelopes won't take care of themselves. Get licking."

Emerie spent the next half hour trying to pay attention to the chitchat about Gwyn's research and Nyx's first words—and not the way the tip of Mor's tongue was repeatedly darting out from between her lips. It was nearly impossible not to stare.

Nearly impossible not to think about what it would feel like to have that tongue against her skin or in her mouth.

Emerie really didn't want to ruin any of this; Nesta had asked Mor to be a bridesmaid to extend a tentative olive branch to one of her mate's oldest friends. It felt like a small miracle that everyone was getting along for once. There might have been a spark between them when Mor had buttoned up her dress, but misreading that could be….disastrous.

It seemed to take an eternity, but eventually, there was a neat pile of sealed envelopes. The group began to disperse, making their way down to the library or readying to flown back down to the street by Feyre. Emerie had just stood up when a hand on her arm made her freeze.

"Are you finding that this is durable? Mine always wear out from the way they rub against the leathers," Mor was saying, fingering the fabric of Emerie's shirt.

Emerie relaxed. She owned a clothing store—fabric care was, at least, familiar territory. "You might do better with something with a tighter weave."

"And the extra backstitching?"

That was a small detail, one that Emerie wouldn't have expected someone to notice unless they knew clothing construction. Which Mor apparently did. "Yes. It makes more of a difference than you'd think."

There was admiration in Mor's eyes, and at first Emerie assumed the other female just knew quality tailoring when she saw it. But Mor didn't move her hand—she squeezed lightly, feeling the muscle of Emerie's bicep beneath.

Emerie stretched her wings a bit, preening. She hadn't misread anything at all. Mor smiled. If Emerie hadn't been so struck by the beauty of it, she might have noticed Nesta and Elain silently bumping their fists together.

And what started with a dress fitting and continued with invitations, all came to a head at Nesta and Cassian's mating ceremony.

Feyre was off somewhere wrestling Nyx into a tiny suit jacket, and Rhys had insisted Elain was the only one he trusted to handle a last-minute problem with the florist. Gwyn was sitting with Nesta, which left just…Mor and Emerie.

Mor emerged from behind a dressing screen. "Does your offer to do me next time still stand?"

"And the time after that if you wanted," Emerie said.

Mor laughed, tossing her golden hair over a shoulder to keep it out of the way. She tried not to shiver at the brush of Emerie's knuckles on her lower back.

It was a easier, though, to speak the truth with her back turned. A bit more softly, Mor added, "You look beautiful, by the way."

For a moment, Emerie didn't say anything, just leaned in, her breath warm against Mor's bare shoulder. Something went tight in Mor's chest as she tipped her head to the side, baring the side of her neck.

"I was going to say that dress looks gorgeous on you, but…" Emerie dropped her voice lower, trailing off as she finished the last of the buttons.

Mor turned around, her smile widening into a grin. "But it looks even better on you?"

"Come to the training ring more often, and maybe you'll have something to show off in a sleeveless dress, too," Emerie said.

She turned around, a wordless request for help with the buttons again, and for once, it wasn't the wingspan that made Mor's breath catch. It had been the implication in those words—come to the training ring and see me again after this.

And somehow, it was the easiest thing in the world to slip into easy banter with her, as if they'd always known each other. "I know it's been a while since I've swung a sword, but be careful what you wish for. Unless you're asking to get pummeled into the dirt."

"That's rich coming from a five-hundred-year-old with creaky knees—"

"—who was gracing the battlefield before you were even born."

"Fine. See you in the ring at dawn."

Mor had spent enough time around Illyrians to know that was as good as asking her on a date. And that Emerie was completely serious about the early hour, even if it was the morning after Nesta and Cassian's mating ceremony. She muttered something under her breath that made Emerie snort, then finished buttoning the dress.

The ceremony was perfect, not a dry eye in the temple as the priestess declared Nesta and Cassian officially mated. When it was over, the guests made their way to the River House—Rhys and Feyre had offered to host so that the House of Wind could remain a quiet retreat for the happy couple at the end of the night.

Mor sat next to Emerie at dinner, and there had been more of that comfortable, easy banter. At some point during the meal, her hand came to rest on Emerie's thigh. But it had still been a shock when the rest of the table had gone to dance or get dessert and Emerie leaned in and murmured something about finding a place they could be alone.

"Nesta's only just started talking to me without flinging insults. She'll kill me if we run off now," Mor whispered. There were few enough guests that their absence would be noted, even with the dancing in full swing.

"I'm one of her best friends. She'll be fine with it as long as I finish first," Emerie said. If Mor had still been drinking the glass of wine in front of her, she would have spit it out. Emerie laughed and added, "Besides, if anyone asks, we can always say I was helping you fix a rip in your dress."

It was a fair point. Mor let Emerie tug her out of her chair and into the garden.

There was a bench shaped to accommodate wings, tucked away in a secluded corner of the courtyard. It was covered by a trellis of night-blooming flowers—Elain's doing, no doubt—but Mor still put up a shield around them as Emerie sat down.

"There's room for you too," Emerie said, indicating the space next to her with a jerk of her chin.

And maybe Mor should have sat, leaned in, and kissed her softly, done this right. But at some point the thread that she felt faintly in her chest had wound itself into a knot of need.

On some level, she knew: after five hundred years, waiting was becoming excruciating.

"Can I…touch your wings?" Mor said, fully aware of what she was asking, that Emerie had every right to be outraged she'd even suggest it when they hadn't so much as kissed yet.

Emerie stared at her, her gaze sharp and assessing, the look of a warrior who didn't back down from anything. Mor held it.

"Yes." Permission, and that she'd given it at all was evidence enough that Emerie knew what they were to each other.

Mor stepped around to the back of the bench, where Emerie's wings were hanging over it. She leaned in, kissing a straight line down Emerie's spine as she knelt in the grass with the other female's back at eye level.

"Tell me if it's too much," Mor said, reaching out a tentative hand.

Emerie's wings rustled at the first brush of Mor's fingertips. Mor's touch had been light, just ghosting across the membrane, but that had been enough.

"Too much?" Emerie said, her voice going rough. "It's not enough."

Mor raised both hands this time, pressing a bit harder against the silky membranes. They were soft in the places that weren't covered in jagged, brutal scars, oddly cool to the touch, and stiff—too stiff, another lingering reminder of old injuries that wouldn't fade.

Emerie sighed—an invitation. Mor pressed a kiss to the central tendon of a wing, where the scarring was concentrated. She paused, waiting for a cry of pain or to be told to stop, but Emerie just made a low, contented sound in the back of her throat.

Mor's blood heated in answer. She'd been sitting back on her heels, but she rose up on her knees, running one hand up, up, up Emerie's back, around to her front, dipping it under her gown to palm a breast.

"Is this better?" Mor said, sliding her finger up the rest of the way to circle a peaked nipple. Emerie's back arched.

"Yes. Don't stop."

"I'm not stopping anytime soon, beautiful. Not when I've thought about getting my hands on you since I saw you at Windhaven." Mor hadn't meant for the endearment or the admission to slip out like that, but both were true. And her gift was truth.

Before Emerie could answer, Mor swept a hand along her wing again. Emerie threw her head back, and suddenly there was no possibility of conversation, not when the Illyrian had been reduced to moans and it took all of Mor's concentration to circle a nipple with one hand and caress all the most sensitive places on a wing with the other.

Mor pressed another kiss to Emerie's back, just as Emerie came with a cry. She stood, brushing grass from her gown, and stepped back to the front of the bench, admiring the sight of Emerie flushed and panting.

Mor extended a hand, and Emerie took it, getting up and stepping closer on pleasantly unsteady feet. As Mor snaked an arm around her waist, Emerie stretched her wings, encircling them both. And finally kissed her.

It was soft, almost chaste. The sort of kiss they probably should have started all of this with. When they broke apart, Emerie let her head rest on Mor's shoulder.

"I meant what I said about doing you next," Emerie said, smiling against Mor's collarbone.

Mor brushed a lock of Emerie's hair back into place. "Then come home with me tonight." Or every night. Move into Athelwood.

"I'd love to."

They stood quietly for a long moment, pressed against each other at the center of twin circles of arms and wings. But there was still a party, and they would be missed. Before long, Mor was casting a glamour to cover the scent of arousal, spelling away grass stains, and making sure no one looked disheveled.

Mor and Emerie attempted to slip back into the party without any fanfare. They'd walked back in together, not even holding hands, ready with a story about a torn strap on Mor's dress and Emerie's emergency sewing kit.

But four heads whipped around at the sight of them. Nesta was sitting at the head table with the rest of her bridesmaids, a glass in front of each of them. The bride winked.

And as a team, the Archerons and Gwyn toasted to the sight of Emerie and Mor together and a job well done.

[starstruckwillows]

she’s an intellectual part ii — jesper fahey ♡

requested by @softforjungwoo <3

jesper fahey x scholar!reader, mostly fluff, bit of hurt/comfort, swearing

you meet the crows for the first time ever

part i

you spun on your chair loosely while jesper paced your room.

“do you really want this yet, jes? cos i’ll stay here, i don’t mind.”

he waved you off, “no, no, you should meet them.”

you frowned, “because you want me to, or because you’re trying to prove i’m real.”

“because i want you to. promise. they’re... kinda like my family.”

you stood up, twisting your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips, “then i’d love to. and please tie your shoes before we leave, my love.” he’d tripped on them one too many times.

the ketterdam walk to nina’s birthday party was cold; jesper served as your human radiator, as ever.

“so, tell me about everyone again.” you linked your arm with his and he nodded.

“there’s kaz brekker, barrel bastard, my main man. don’t touch him, he doesn’t like it. he will definitely glare at you, and you probably won’t have a real conversation with him for like three months. he’s proper complex.”

you laughed, “he sounds delightful.”

jesper shrugged, “oh, he is, really. you just won’t see that tonight. then inej, she’s really cool. will make you jump all the time because she moves soundlessly. really nice too. don’t disrespect her saints.”

“understood.”

“matthias, ex drüskelle, massive bloke, do not try to arm wrestle him cos you won’t win. trust me. super in love with nina, and super polite. thinks we’re all crazy killers, he’ll probably love you for a change of pace.”

the thought of jesper challenging a beefy fjerdan soldier to an arm wrestle was enough to have you giggling again, but he flicked your shoulder for that, mumbling about how he ’totally stood a chance’.

he pressed on, “nina’s a heartrender, loves her waffles. bit of a sparky one but she’s lovely. don’t talk to her if she’s hungry, because she will substitute that by biting off your head. overall, she’s great.”

you could see the light in his eyes as he discussed the people he viewed so highly. even when they were all arguing and things were going to shit, they were a tight pack. you weren’t sure if you were going to integrate successfully, but you pushed that to the back of your mind.

“wylan van eck, not a smidge like his dickhead dad, so don’t worry about that. brilliant chemist, could blow you up, but would never, he’s a sweetheart. absolutely no alcohol tolerance though, so if you see him with a drink just subtly tip it into a plant.”

this wasn’t the first you’d heard of the crows, so jesper’s information was sealed well into your brain.

he knocked on the building you’d just arrived at. a restaurant, one renowned for selling waffles as desert. jesper muttered how very predictable that decision had been as he guided you to a booth table in the corner, his hand on the small of your back as you sat down.

surverying the others at the table, you deduced it was wylan and inej here already.

talking to them was easy. it felt like a warm-up for the more difficult of his friends to gain approval of.

but the evening was lovely, and while kaz effectively only spoke to you for means of a background check, you successfully bonded with the others.

jesper, despite his earlier anxiety, relaxed almost straight away and retained his usual joker persona for the majority of the meal.

there were one or two comments that he laughed at, but also squeezed your hand.

we were starting to think you were imaginary!

jesper wanted to go to the university, do you teach him things you learn?

i wasn’t sure if he was ever gonna settle down, to be honest... never seen him serious.

they weren’t meant with ill intent, and on another day it may not have bothered him in the slightest. on another day, he may have been the one making the jokes. it was probably leftover nerves, his need for his family to approve of you. or maybe he was just tired.

whatever the reason, by the time he’d walked you back to your dorm and you’d convinced him to stay the night, which didn’t take much persuasion, jesper was in need of a hug.

he just wasn’t sure where teasing ended and truth began. was he not smart enough for you?

luckily for him and his aversion to being serious, you didn’t need him to tell you how he felt. you knew exactly what was bothering him.

“they were great, i’m glad i got to meet them.” you smiled at him as you changed into sleepwear.

jesper nodded, distracted, “yeah, yeah it was good.”

you coaxed him into bed, candle burning low beside you, but you could feel how tense he remained. weaving your hand behind him to mess lightly with his curls the way you know would have him paying attention to you, you asked, “do you wanna talk about it, baby?”

jesper sighed, letting his eyes shut, “don’t know. i mean, it’s stupid, really. i know they’re kidding.”

“doesn’t matter if you believe it. do you? believe it?”

he paused, and your heart almost broke for him, before mumbling, “maybe... sometimes.”

turning his head to face you fully, his eyes opening on instinct, you answered, “do you want to know what i believe?”

he hummed his agreement.

“i think you are one of the best people i’ve ever met. you’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re so good to me, and to the people you love. it’s not a coincidence you have all these people who care about you, jes. it’s okay to have these feelings, they’re human, and they aren’t stupid. i get it too, sometimes-”

as much as he was loving your speech, warmth swirling in his heart at the pure sincerity in your eyes, he cut you off there, “what? why would... what do you... what?”

“we’re different people from different worlds, jesper. we’re always going to wonder if we can truly fit in each other’s lives. but it doesn’t matter. i love you, and i know you love me. i will never give you any reason to feel insecure about that.”

he smiled, finally relaxing under your touch, and rested his forehead against yours. with the smallest, most honest whisper of thank you, he fell asleep. but not before he heard your hushed response, sweet and kind and beautiful and everything he saw you to be.

everything he knew you saw him to be.

🏷️ — @ariyabella @sw34terw34ther @ell0ra-br3kk3r @meredarling

[swallowtailcherry]

🔱Two Is Better Than One⚰️

Poseidon x Goddess!Reader x Hades

1. Another 18+ one yay

2. Where did I get this idea idk but do I care? Not at all.

3. Just to be honest, this is based on an imagination/dream I had (yes I get those dreams, but not too often🥲)

4. This sounds like the best dream ever 💓

5. I feel like it sucks lowkey

Warnings: 18+, double penetration(yes please-), Poseidon being Poseidon, something breaks.

The art of Hades does not belong to me!!!

_________

How did this happen?

One minute you were just minding your own business when one of the many servants of Poseidon told you to come over to their master's underwater palace, you get there and the next minute, you're in his room, trying to keep quiet as he mercilessly slams into you with incredible force. With every thrust, he was either dead silent or letting out quiet grunts.

"L-Lord Poseidon! What's the- Ah! meaning of this?" You managed to groan out, your lower region filled up with the god's length. Poseidon didn't respond and continued to slam in you. Your wrists were pinned to the bed by his hands.

What gotten into him all of a sudden? He was never like this before. He was always so distant from everyone, except for his older brother, Hades. Physical touch isn't something he approved of unless you meant something to him.

"Silence. You have no need to speak."

His words came out harsh, but that's just how he speaks to anyone (if he gave them the time that is). You shut your mouth after that, but it was proven to be difficult with his cock buried deep inside your entrance. Since one of his hands had your wrists pinned down, all you can do to keep quiet was to seal your lips.

Through your half lidded eyes, you try to took the time to bask in the surprising beauty the sea god has. His wavy blonde locks moving in sync with his thrusts, the sea blue eyes staring right into your own, muscles flexing from gripping both your wrists and the spot beside your head.

This whole situation was confusing on its own.

Then you remembered. A while back, Poseidon had asked for your hand in marriage. Being a goddess who wanted to wait, you politely declined the proposal. You guessed that didn't sit well with the God.

As if it couldn't get any more shocking, his older brother, Hades asked the same thing! Like before, you rejected and went on with your day.

Was Poseidon... Jealous?

Your questions were interrupted by the tip hitting your womb repeatedly. A surprised gasp left your lips, soon turning to whimpers.

"You'll regret rejecting me." He hissed, his hips bucking even faster than before. Your walls clenched around his cock, the organ twitching against them. You heard Poseidon take sharp inhales through his teeth, possibly a sign he was close. You felt yourself getting close too.

"I'm-" You could barely finish that sentence when his load shot into you, some of it leaking out of your pussy. Just as you were about to cum, he pulled out. Your legs twitched in place, slowly closing them to prevent anymore of his load coming out.

"W-why did you-"

"You don't deserve it yet." He interrupted you by answering your unfinished question. Your hand immediately went down to finger yourself when he loosen his grip on your wrists, but he stopped you from doing so.

"I said you. Don't. Deserve. It." He repeated, some hostility in his bland tone. You whimpered again, desperately grinding on the bed. His hands began to roam your body, not showing a hint of remorse to your current state. You couldn't take it anymore, and soon your juices came out. Until you were done, you fell back on the bed, your hair spread out and face flushed.

"Just from my touch? How pathetic." Poseidon spoke, eyeing your wet clit. You couldn't care less about his words, you were just glad this was all over...

Or so you thought...

~~~~

One month has passed, and you haven't been more relieved to see Poseidon as his usual self. Ever since that day, you've tried your best to avoid him more than ever. Originally, you found yourself sitting/standing next to the God, now you distance yourself by standing near other gods. When one of the servants searched for you, you'd hide.

But another problem began to rise up as soon as Hades came in. Except he was the problem.

Just like Poseidon, he was persistent in his advances, but he was also very subtle. However, it did get annoying over time. Sure, the flowers and jewellery were great gifts, and you appreciate them all, but sometimes it got on your nerves.

One day, a minor god fearfully approached you to tell you about Hades wanting to see you for important matters. This was unexpected, seeing how Hades rarely asks for anyone unless it was really urgent.

"I'll be there. Although I don't see why he needs me of all people." You commented, mostly to yourself. You made your way to the underworld, greeting Cerberus with a pat on the three heads. You managed to find the God, looking handsome as ever with his hair slightly messed up and his face not ruined in the slightest.

"Lord Hades? Why did you ask for me?" You questioned, your (e/c) eyes wide with curiousity. The God looked up from the desk, his normally stoic face softening at the sight of you.

"I just need your help with something." He answered, standing up from the desk. You watched him make his way towards you, his eye shining under the light. Before you could react, he trapped you between his arms, towering over you.

"I need you to answer me. Why did you reject me?" He leaned closer to your face, his lips only a few centimetres from yours. You were too afraid to respond, and being this close to the god wasn't helping.

"W-well, Lord Poseidon asked for my hand in m-marriage, and seeing you do the same c-caught me off guard.." Your response was barely a whisper, but given how close both of you were, Hades definitely heard it.

Hades took the time to properly admire your beauty, stroking your cheek with a small smile.

"I don't blame my brother. You remind me of the night sky." You blinked at the comment he made. It was an odd way to compliment someone, but knowing Hades, this wasn't too surprising.

"How so?" You asked. Hades kept quiet, leaning even closer and left soft kisses on your neck, his hands moving to your sides. Your whole body shook in his hands, your eyes staring up at the ceiling.

His lips were strangely soft, but cold. He moved up from your neck to your lips. Unlike Poseidon, it wasn't forced but instead sweet, the coldness was nice against yours. Instead of fighting it, you caved in, moving your arms up to wrap them around his neck. You felt his hands trail down to your hips, hoisting you up by your thighs. You felt his bulge rub against your inner thigh.

His tongue came out to lick your lips, as if asking for permission. Your lips moved, enabling the god to wrestle with your tongue. He pulled away, much to your disappointment.

"L-Lord Hades.." You shuddered out, drooling slightly. Hades kept you up, unbuckling his pants with one hand. He used that hand to rip off your dress along with your panties. Once he was done, he put his hand under your right thigh, his cock out and fully erected. Your eyes widen at the sheer size of his length, which was about 8 inches. The tip had precum oozing out and poked at your entrance. Your heart was beating fast right now, legs trembling in his hands.

"May I?" The God inquired, his lips forming a smirk. You nodded eagerly, your hands now gripping his shoulders. After adjusting himself, he thrusted in slowly, burying his head in the right side of your neck. Out of instinct, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Fuck." Hades hissed in your ear, biting the lobe while bucking his hips faster. He was different than Poseidon, who did fill you up but not like Hades. Hades was the right size to hit you in the right spot. With every thrust, it brought you over the edge of pleasure. He picked up the pace, his breathing fanning your ear. One harsh thrust, you came all over his cock.

All of a sudden, Hades stopped completely, moving from your neck and his dick still inside. Your face turned to confusion, watching Hades with caution. Hades brought you to his desk, turned you over on your stomach. Your chest was pressed against the hard surface, your wetness dripping out. His warm, rough hands caressed your hips, his thumbs gently rubbing your skin. His length brushed against your ass, the underside sliding up and down.

You let out a gasp of shock when he slammed into your ass, rising up on your toes.

"I've been stressed lately, being a king is quite tiring, wouldn't you agree?" He teased suggestively, pressing himself against your back. Hades left soft kisses on your shoulder and neck, his hands now groping your chest. Your tongue hung out of your mouth, eyes rolled back to the back of your skull. The desk nudged forward from Hades constantly slamming into you.

Hades chuckled near your ear, couple of grunts here and there.

"Want me to use you all I want?" He asked, his fingers trailing along the lips of your pussy. You were too caught up with the bliss to answer back. Hades didn't wait for your response and shoved his fingers inside. He grunted out that he was close, which was barely audible, but you heard it crystal clear. Once he was satisfied, his pulled his fingers out, your cum coating his fingers. He takes one long lick at his fingers, tasting the liquid.

"Much sweeter than I thought."

One final thrust, his load came out in your ass and he pulled out. You caught your head when it was about to drop to the side, your face feeling heated up from the session. You managed to lift yourself up, panting heavily.

"Good little dove. You can stay here until you're ready to leave, okay?"

~~~~

It's been four months since that happened, but you felt disappointed. Disappointed that it didn't last as long as you had hoped for, but it was fun nonetheless.

Hades was kind enough to take care of you until you were perfectly fine after that.

Now, an invitation from Zeus himself to an event was unexpected, seeing how you sometimes had trouble talking to gods from other pantheons. You wanted to decline, but knowing the supreme god, you decided to go so you wouldn't have to deal with his constant persistence. You are close to Zeus, but you thought your friendship wasn't this serious.

"You finally accepted my invitation! The first time in centuries, too!" Zeus exclaimed once he saw you. You gave him a smile and waved at him. Thankfully, he didn't try to approach you and stayed in his place.

You had to admit, Zeus does know how to keep parties lively. You thought you were gonna be bored in an instant, but Zeus proved you wrong. Even so, you still preferred to stay away from the other gods.

After two hours, you decided to leave. After roaming the huge corridors, you heard distant voices over the music. Slowly growing bored, you went over to check it out. You found the voices to be both gods who had longed pursued you.

Hades and Poseidon. And it seems that they weren't agreeing with each other on something.

"What the- may I ask why were you arguing?" You asked, looking at both gods, expecting an answer. Hades was the one who stepped up.

"We were simply discussing about you." Hades answered, lifting your chin up to look into your beautiful (e/c) eyes. Poseidon can only stare at his older brother with his usual emotionless face.

"Discussing what, exactly?" You asked, placing on your hands on your hips.

"About marrying one of us." Hades chuckled when he saw your frown. You wanted to groan out of annoyance, but you wasted that energy with the party. You sighed out, lowering your head.

"How many times must I say this? I don't want to marry neither of you!" You shouted, pretty upset they can't take the hint. The brother looked at each other and grabbed you by the wrist, leading you to a bedroom. You wanted to fight back, but they were one of the strongest gods in Valhalla.

Thinking back on the times where they made love to you, you had thought you hated it, but now you don't.

You stopped resisting and let them throw you on the bed. Poseidon slowly leaned down towards your face, forcefully pressing his lips to yours. His tongue overpowered your tongue, his hand groping your chest roughly.

"We can always do it the hard way, dove." Hades kneeled down in front of your clit, took off your clothes and immediately licked your pussy, holding your thighs up. You moaned in the kiss, wondering whenever to mess with Poseidon's hair or leave it be.

Hades pushed his tongue inside, face buried deep in your entrance. Poseidon shot back from you, his chest moving slowly from his breathing.

Hades pulled back, your pussy already wet. He stood up straight, climbing on the bed and set himself behind you. Poseidon shifted to position himself in front of you, setting his hands on your thighs. Without thinking, you moved your hands to undo Poseidon's pants, to which the latter didn't stop you. Hades lifted you up by the hips, positioning you on top of both their cocks. Their lengths slowly slide inside both your holes.

Thankfully, both of them let you take some time to adjust to their lengths and they start moving their hips. They went slow, but the pent up energy they had took over them and their hips moved at speeds unimaginable.

"Oh my- My lords-" Two hands groped your breasts, pinching your perked nipples.

"We prefer master~" The grip on your tits tighten, two tongue taking each side of your neck. The lovebites they're leaving were much harder, and possible could leave bruises. All the stimulation previously held in had come flowing out, the cum leaking out both your holes.

Much to your confusion, they didn't pull out, but rather continued their animalistic thrusts.

"A-ah wait-" You tried to plea, but it fell on deaf ears. Their grunts filled your ears and the air in the room, the two gods not showing a single sign of stopping.

They never stopped until you eventually milked Poseidon's cock after the 5th round. After it was all over, you collapsed.

The next morning, your clit and ass were still extremely sore from last night. It was hard but you managed to get off the bed, only to stumbled forward. On the small nightstand laid a piece of paper, which you assumed to be a letter of sorts. You scurried over to read the letter, deciding to get back on the bed. You opened the letter, reading it over and over again.

Don't think we're done yet. See you real soon, my dove~

[finn-m-corvex]

Masterpost!

Brand new and shiny masterpost! Let's see what I can do!

Ao3 Fics

Would You Like To Enter Prime Empire? - My rewrite of Prime Empire! Words: 53k Chapters: 4/16

Survivors - Jay and Lloyd bonding over survivor's guilt Words: 17k Chapters: 3/3

Blue Goes Boom - Rewrite of the later parts of S4 if Jay had actually gotten injured when the mech blew up Words: 14.1k Chapters: 2/?

Even the Earth Trembles - Cole angst involving touch starvation after DotD! Words: 7.2k Chapters: 1/2

Hugs When You're Blue - Collection of smaller things involving Jay getting hugs from the others! Written for @/sharksandjays based on his incredible artwork here! Words: 6.7k Chapters: 1/1

Mechanical Hearts - My college Jaya AU! Cole and Jay are adopted brothers, and shenanigans ensue when Cole has to play matchmaker between a lovesick Jay and an oblivious Nya! Words: 13.6k Chapters: 2/?

Blue and Green Make Aquamarine - first Greenflower fic! Written as a gift for @/phantombasketofmuffins for Han's Secret Santa event! Words: 4k Chapters: 1/1

Tumblr Fics / Snippets

Sounding Sea - Jay angst revolving around Edgar Allan Poe's poem Annabelle Lee! Very proud of this one! Words: 1.8k

Someone You Loved - songfic with Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi and Jaya mixed together. Has the MondotheBombo seal of approval! Words: 2k

Shopping for Wires - Snippet from Ch3 of my rewrite! Probably won't understand unless you've read it. Written as a request for @/juniperjellyfish! Words: 1.4k

Lightning in a Cubicle - My take on what happened to Jay after the Merge in Dragons Rising (very much an AU) Words: 9.4k Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Aftershocks - 5+1 series involving Jay and his sensory issues! Words: 3.7k Cole | Nya | Kai | Zane | Lloyd | Jay

Falling Sleeves - Cole fluff and angst over MotO! Words: 4.3k

Headcanons

The hoodie headcanons used to be here but I'm going to redo them so soon to come!

Moodboards

Would You Like To Enter Prime Empire? - here!

Chapter 4 - First Contact Beta Jay-137 | Dee-Jay 081 | Talon - 066

Chapter 5 - Forest of Secrets The Father

Challenges

Jaya Week 2023 - Days 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 Words: 17.6k Find the full version on ao3 here!

Whumptober 2023 - Days 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 Words: 68.5k Find the whole version on ao3 here!

Memes

Office Jay memes!

WYTYAA memes! Made for @/mondothebombo

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

PLEASE let me know if I'm missing something super important. I know there were a couple things here and there (esp art-wise) that I'm missing but I either don't have it or I'm going to rework it. This should be all of the fics though!

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien's Lyric Poetry Event Translation (Day 7-9)

⚠️  SPOILER ALERT  ⚠️

This post contains a HEAVY SPOILER for the event that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Lyric Poetry Free SSR Event | Prologue+Day 1-3 | Day 4-6 | Day 7-9 | Day 10-12 | Day 13 (Ice Flowers Date)

Translation under the cut!

✧ [Day 7] ✧

When Lucien arrives home, the moonlight is already spilling onto the windowsill, forming something akin to white clear pond.

MC: You've been working hard overtime. Have you encountered any difficult research problems?

Lucien: While there is indeed a difficult problem, it's not directly related to the project.

Lucien: It just took some extra time to solve.

As he speaks, Lucien takes out a small, delicate gift box from his arms.

Curiously, I unwrap the packaging, and a handful of cotton clouds dyed in shades of crimson and orange greets my eyes.

Lucien: When I left the Bioultima Research Institute today, I could already see stratocumulus clouds forming on the distant horizon.

Lucien: I want to share it with you, but unfortunately, I can't make it into a specimen.

Lucien: However, on the way home, I remembered seeing various glass artworks that mimic clouds.

Lucien: Although it doesn't quite fit the definition of 'specimen,' I still hope you can loosen the standards a bit and include this 'treasure' in our scope of collection.

Lucien’s note: Besides through photographs, sunset can be shared in many other ways.

✂———————–

✧ [Day 8] ✧

I can't help but smile as I look at Lucien's Moments on the screen.

Lucien's post: Making preserved fruit specimens turned out to be a tad trickier than expected, but the results are also slightly better than imagined.

MC: Now I kinda regret picking the biggest and prettiest loquat... Every time I look at them, I just can't help but crave them.

Lucien replied to MC: How about this, besides bringing back the specimens, I'll grab an extra bag of loquats on my way back too.

Lately, whenever we’re fruit shopping, those loquats at the stalls keep stealing my attention. Figured since it's spring and all, it's the perfect time for munching on loquats. So, we grabbed a bag to take them home.

The unanimously delicious and sweet fruit earned our seal of approval, and it got me thinking about turning them into specimens.

I heard the sound of keys being inserted into the lock at the door, and I smiled as I went to greet him.

Lucien carefully carries a glass jar in one hand and true to his word, he holds a bag of juicy loquats in the other.

MC: Thanks for helping out with making the specimens and bringing the fruit home, Professor Lucien~

I take the bag from him and don't forget to tiptoe and gently plant a kiss on his cheek as a "reward."

Lucien: Making preserved specimens in the lab is safer as many reagents aren't suitable for home storage.

MC: Hmm? Come to think of it, do you have any reagents secretly stashed away at home?

MC: Just like in movies or TV shows, the mysterious scientist’s home has its own hidden secrets~

Lucien: Well, shouldn't this classmate who helped me clean up the house last week know the answer to that question the best?

(there's none, because, besides he doesn't hide any secret from her, as he said, they're too dangerous to be put at home)

Lucien’s note: I heard that you can also add loquats to pear soup and stew them together. Maybe we could make this the topic of our next kitchen experiment?

✂———————–

✧ [Day 9] ✧

When I went out this morning, Lucien told me he'd be back later than usual, so I didn't have to wait for him.

The twilight sets in, and just as I'm about to send a message reminding him not to forget to eat, an email pops up.

[Desire to Share]

From: Lucien To: MC Date: March 6, 2024 (Wednesday) 22:58

Although I can’t come back on time today, I've asked someone to bring you the bits of my life that I want to preserve today.

Remember to sign for it.

[T/N: you can write a reply to his email!]

After waiting for a little, I received a document envelope.

The unfamiliar chart was carefully laminated and stored in a bag, with a note attached by Lucien.

"Today, there are several particularly beautiful flow cytometry results. Let's commemorate some of them as today's memory."

MC: This person is really...

I couldn't help but chuckle as I looked at the chart in my hand, my mind filled with images of Lucien, slightly worn out from intense work but with eyes shining brightly.

I open my phone and send him a reply. "Don't forget to rest in between creating those charts! And make sure to eat on time!"

Lucien’s note: Although there are still certain issues with the experiment itself and many parameters that need adjustment, this chart is indeed very good.

[Trivia: Annexin V-FITC is a flow cytometry reagent used for detecting apoptotic cells programmed cell death. Annexin V-FITC is utilized in flow cytometry in clinical settings for detecting apoptosis in various cells, including lymphocytes, for radiation toxicity assessment. It is utilized in cancer research and treatment for various purposes, which kinda makes me wonder if it has something to do with his cancer in the main story :"D]

✂———————–

[choco-pudding]

Space Channel 5 Part 2: Sugoku Sugoi  Guide Book p. 048-053 (Translation by @lavoszero and myself. Edits and typesetting by myself)

Second part of Report 2

Imgur link to all of the  Sugoku Sugoi Guide Book translations we’ve done thus far.

Plain text below.

p. 48 Space Park · Fountain Square A

Dancing

Ulala’s Hearts: 17 Moving on to Fountain Square, ugh, there she is…This is where you start the guitar duel with Pudding from Channel 42. The hidden input spot is right when she introduces herself. She say's "It's me, Pudding." You have to time it right at the "it's" and you'll get it.

Pine’s Comment The newsflash mentions to press the down button to play the guitar, but really, any directional button will do. You can see this with Pudding, she uses up, left, and right to move around while playing the guitar. Honestly, there's no need to imitate her. It's all up to you, if you care about keeping up appearances or not.

“Good evening, everybody, it’s me, Pudding!”

10. Guitar Playing

37 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 38 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 39 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 40 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇

11.

41 x x x 42 o o o 43 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x x x 44 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ o o o 45 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇  x x o

-

Groovemaster 2000 044

Meow Meow Meow

p. 49

12.

46 x x x 47 o o o 48 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ x x x 49 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ o o o o 50 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ o

13. Guitar Playing

51 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 52 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 53 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 54 x x x o 55 ⬇ ⬇ 56 ⬇ ⬇ 57 x o 58 o x 59 ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ ⬇ 60 x x x x o 61 ⬇ ⬇ 62 ⬇ 63 ⬇ ⬇ 64 ⬇ ⬇

Pine’s Comment Some sets have the commands come at you in rapid succession. It’s hard to keep track of all the inputs needed, so be sure to check out how many here.

“I quit!”

-

Groovemaster 2000 045

Meow

p. 50 Space Park · Fountain Square B

Shooting

Ulala’s Hearts: 10 With Pudding gone, the Space Bird Mistress appears on the stage. She has a lovely singing voice, but it’s a tad difficult to hear, so you’ll have to rely on your eyes along with your ears. Also, the last "Whoo!" at the end has another secret input spot. Though, it's a little different from the previous "Whoo!"s.

“They're forcing me to dance~”

14.

65 🠬 x 🠩 x 🠮 x 66 🠮 x 🠩 x 🠬 o 67 🠩 o 🠬 x 🠮 o 68 🠮 x 🠬 x 🠩 o

15.

69 🠩 o 🠮 x 🠬 o 70 🠬 x 🠮 o 71 🠮 o 🠬 x 72 🠮 x 🠬 o 🠩 o

Rescue 080: Space Park Staff Worker

-

Filthy Groove 046

Up Left Right Down Meow Meow Meow

p. 51

16.

73 🠩 🠮 x 74 🠩 🠬 x 75 🠩 🠬 o 76 🠩 🠮 o

17.

77 🠮 🠬 x 78 🠮 🠬 x 79 🠮 🠬 x 80 🠩 o

Rescue 047: Birdman 1 048: Birdman 2 049: Birdman 3 050: Birdman 4 051: Birdman 5 046: Space  Bird Mistress

Whoo [7]

-

Filthy Groove 047

Up Left Right Down Meooow Meow

p. 52 Space Park · Fountain Square C

Finale!

Ulala’s Hearts: 1 “Don’t ask why, just strike a pose!”

Left! Right! Up! Staaaay Chirp [8]

-

Filthy Groove 048

Meooow Meooow Meooow Meow

p. 53 Reference Material: Direct Hit Interview with Pres. Peace, Pre-incident ~Pudding, Interview with the Space President~

Pudding: Good afternoon everybody, it's me Pudding! Peace: Good afternoon everybody. It's me Space President Peace~. Pudding: Hello, hello people. Let's start right away with the questions. You use your singing voice to spread happiness around the galaxy, but for what reason? Do you do it for the quid pro quo, or any other ambition in mind? Peace: No, no, not at all. I simply want to make the entire universe happy with my singing voice, that's the greatest reward I ever ask for. Pudding: Ooh, you know, you sound like a certain salesman from 500 years ago. Very similar. Peace: Ohohohoho! Speaking of sales, there’s manga out now that has my official President-Peace seal of approval (serious)." Pudding: Oh, is that so? But you're not that pushy and guilt-trippy about your merch, unlike certain salespeople. You're, like, the complete opposite. Peace: Ohohohoho! I guess that's what happens when you compare a president to a salesman. Pudding: By the way Mr. Peace, how did you get your singing voice? I heard it can "bring tears to even those with the coldest of hearts," how did you even train for that? Peace: How? Hohoho, I was born with this voice. Ah, but if I had to guess, I'd say the thought of 'being kind to people,' having that sort of drive, is what improved my singing. Other than that… it might be the result of me drinking so much space alkaline ionic water. Pudding: Last question. Mr. Peace, do you have a type? Peace: Ohohohoho! I belong to the whole universe, I can't dedicate myself to just one person. Regardless of gender, whether it's an insect, a flower, or plankton, everyone and everything is deserving of my love.

-

Filthy Groove 049

Meooow Meow Meow Meow

[withleeknow]

don't even- 06.13 is going to be one for the history books 🐹 I had to share these gems from armytwt bc they're all so relatable 😫😫 https://tinyurl.com/87s587z3 https://tinyurl.com/yx5ym64t https://tinyurl.com/4ejvjk4e

it's been a while since I've had a mimo moment in my asks: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeVxcCwu/ - that chuckle is so endearing + his thought process in that millisecond was “oh god me- hi!”

lmao seeing dk + hs in one frame triggered an epiphany like wow I really do have a type but also dk is another breed of duality + chaos https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeVQBcJB/ it's like someone clicked the “randomise” option on the character selection menu

also I will never stop encouraging our enha brainrot so here's this blessed-cursed angle of jake's fatal trouble moment https://tinyurl.com/4karzj9t this is us but virtually ♡ I genuinely wasn't expecting this EP to have such a chokehold on me but the boys are slaying all their content ✨️

idk how I managed to plant two easter eggs in this but there we are ilysbm I had a full-on moment reading your last message 🥺 also am forever rooting for you + your creative career aspirations (side note: have I ever mentioned how much I love your blog format, it has my INTJ-seal of approval 🫡) 💌 LASTLYY I hope you have the most wonderful bday week! get ready for my festa spam this month lmao <3

NOT THE LAST LINE IN THE LETTER 😭 wow i really will be a sobbing mess on the day that he comes back fr. emo about the anniversary + emo about seokjin coming home = double kill 🫡

oh mimo :( him and his tiny wave, i love him sm onigiri :(((

"it's like someone clicked the 'randomise' option on the character selection menu" STOPPP WHY IS THIS SUCH A SPOT ON DESCRIPTION. i haven't even watched a lot of svt content (except for nana tour and a few eps of going seventeen) and i'm already obsessed with his brand of chaos. i'm just really drawn the black cats and the crazy ones these days lmao

oop alkdhaksjf i'm not looking i'm kinda looking 🫣 i'm really enjoying enha's music lately! if they ever go on tour near me i think i miiight just try and fight for tickets hehehhe

i appreciate the easter eggs very much 🤣 honestly you become a more and more comforting presence the more i talk to you. you really do sound so similar to the friend i had on the other blog who helped me through some pretty rough patches. sometimes i just think, ohhhhh the tumblr gods sent me another one 🥹 thank you sm :') as for the blog, i am wayyy too obsessed with the aesthetics of my blogs lmao i cannot rest until i'm at least 76% satisfied with how they look 😂 thank you hehehhe i love it whenever someone comments on it :') and NO WAYYY you're an INTJ too omg are you me from another universe 😭

[lisystrata]

Made a small translation of the comic about Cesare and Jane

@cesarescabinet I am ready to translate this comic for you. I regret not doing it right away. Immediately I apologize for the grammar, syntax and punctuation, I do not know English well.

slide 1. Dr. Olsen: "Jane?! Francis?!" Jane: "Father!" Dr. Olsen: "Well, well, princess!" … "I just got some devastating news, Francis. Devastating. Do you have any thoughts on who might be the culprit [the killer]?" Francis: "Got a clue, Dr. Olsen"… "Yesterday Alan and I visited the Holstenwall Fair. A little fun, as you can imagine… We wandered into a certain "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" where Cesare the somnambulist predicted Alan's imminent death." Dr. Olsen: "In that case, we should check this place first. Let's get the police clearance and then pay a visit to this Dr. Caligari."

Author's words: "Such was Dr. Olsen, chairman of a hundred councils, master of a thousand brotherhoods. His life was a series of important decisions that everyone else had to face."

slide 2. Knock Knock! Francis: "Open up, Caligari! Open up, or I swear I'll kick that door down!"… "Come on! We know you're in there!" Caligari, who has been spoon-feeding a somnambulist, looks around frightened. Caligari: "Wait a minute, good gentlemen! Give me just one minute!" (opens the door and asks through the crack) "To what do you owe such an honor?" Dr. Olsen: "I suppose you yourself know very well the reason why we are here" … "We want to check your somnambulist" … "You can see for yourself that we have a warrant with the seal of the chief of police, and also in in full order signature and seal of the administrator of the Department of Politics".

slide 3. Caligari: "Formalities aside! Please. You can examine Cesare. But I think you should know who he is." Dr. Olsen: "Caligari, we really know who he is!" Caligari: "Listen, Francis! I have something to tell you. Sleepwalkers don't dream. They are in the slow sleep stage. They usually describe themselves not as 'Sleepers' but as 'Meditators'." Francis (apart aside): "I never understood why he told me all this. His phrases sounded like a kind of side note, to which the writer will return later to confirm his most strange fiction with it." Dr. Olsen: "Caligari, wake up your somnambulist. I think we need to talk to him for a bit."

slide 4. Caligari invites Jane to enter his booth. Jane: "I'm not at all sure that my father would have approved of my agreeing to enter the van of the 'smiling stranger', as you call yourself." Caligari: "Fear not! Enlightenment awaits you here!" … "Your father is an educated man. I'm sure he would like you to move in circles of enlightened people. Just consider this a formal prologue to the main action, and me as your escort" … "Now … Are you ready? Are you ready to meet the omniscient? Are you ready to see "the person beyond the information bubble"? Are you ready to meet… Cesare, the somnambulist?" The closet doors swing open, Jane sees Cesare sleeping in front of her and recoils in surprise.

slide 5. Caligari: "Yes, he is terrible. Terrible enough" … "Of course, a person should not be judged by his appearance, but by the breadth of his mind. Isn't that what your intellectual friends would say?" Jane (puts her hand up to Cesare's face with curiosity and sympathy): "Yes, but…" Caligari won't let her touch the somnambulist. He intercepts her hand when she almost touches the young man's cheek. Coming to her senses, Jane screams. Thus, she awakens Cesare. He opens his eyes and looks at her in complete bewilderment. Horrified by his shocked look, Jane runs out of the booth screaming loudly.

slide 6 needs no translation, Cesare glides along the wall like a shadow — he goes to Jane's house.

slide 7 needs no translation, Cesare enters the girl's bedroom, creeps up to her bed and swings with a stiletto. At the last moment, for some reason, he woke up. The realization that he just nearly killed a man makes him feel turmoil. He drops his blade and covers his face with his hand, regretting his wicked intentions. He is then attracted to the sleeping woman. He looks at her face and remembers her sympathetic gesture towards him in Dr. Caligari's booth. Cesare's hand, in an absurd, unaccustomed movement, reaches out to repeat Jane's gesture already addressed to her. But as soon as this happens, the girl woke up.

slide 8. Jane wakes up and sees the face of Cesare leaning towards her above her. In the semi-darkness, she cannot recognize his emotions and is simply frightened by the sudden appearance of "this monster" in her boudoir. Jane (screaming and squealing): "Noooooo! Daddy, help me! Daddy!" Dr. Olsen jumps up from his pillow. Dr. Olsen: "…what?! Jane?!" The face of Cesare, who is fighting the girl fighting off him, is distorted by a grimace of rage and gambling madness. Dr. Olsen: "God forbid! She's the only one I have left!" Dr. Olsen runs to his daughter's bedroom. Jane: "Let me go!" Exhausted, the girl loses consciousness in the arms of a somnambulist. Grabbing her under the arm, Cesare hurriedly leaves the room through the window. The doctor sees how the kidnapper, along with his burden, gets out onto the roofs. He calls after them. Dr. Olsen: "Please leave it! If you fall… If you drop her…" Cesare does not obey and goes further and further away. The doctor looks after them. Dr. Olsen: "Nooooo!"

slide 9. Neighbors flock to the noise and screams that come from the Olsen family's apartment. Voices: "What? Where are they?" … "Where the hell did they both disappear to?!" … "Olsen! They're over there, above you!" … "He [the somnambulist] climbed [on the roof] over the lashes of ivy! Ivy!" … "Yes! They are there!" … "He's getting to the [other] roof!" Hugging and holding the kidnapped Jane, who is still fainting, Cesare looks desperately over his shoulder at the chase.

slide 10. Losing strength, the somnambulist overcomes the bridge. The distance between him and the crowd of pursuers is shrinking. Crowd: "We almost caught up with him!" Cesare's legs give way. He drops Jane to the ground and kneels beside her. In the end, he still manages to stroke her cheek with his fingers. Thus, he seems to return to her that sympathetic gesture towards him, which she wanted to make at the fair, but was stopped by Dr. Caligari. Silently saying goodbye to her, Cesare runs on and hides in the thorny thickets. The pursuers stumble upon a fainting Jane. Dr. Olsen: "Oh, Jane! Thank God you're okay!" Cop from the crowd: "Everyone follow him! Into the thicket!" The crowd is on the heels of Cesare. One of the policemen gets stuck in thorns. Stuck Cop: "Those damn spikes! Looks like I'm stuck!"

In the background of the picture you can see the black silhouette of Cesare, who, in complete exhaustion, loses consciousness and then rolls down into the abyss.

[moral-terpitude]

The Dead Rabbit - Part XI

warnings | talks of suicide, smut, oral sex female receiving, choking, unprotected sex. Probably other things. Talks of domestic violence.

author's note | part of this section is based on something I found in my research of the concept of a wandering soul or soul doulaism, where there’s a body soul and free soul. Just to keep that in mind. Posting early in the week because I will be busy on my regular update day. But maybe there will be two updates!

It was around 3:30 when everyone had finally vacated the premises. Charlotte looked like she could almost fall asleep against the broom. Tommy watched her, in the dim lighting, surrounded by the comforting wood paneled walls, as he washed and dried the glasses which seemed to be coming in a never ending stream from different parts of the bar, courtesy of Anna.

Charlotte hummed as she pushed the broom below the put up chairs. The air still lingered with the smell of perfumes and colognes of all of the now departed patrons. It was the most hectic night of the year, now complete, and Charlotte knew she would be a liar if she ever told anyone that she hated it. It was one of her favorite rushes, the changing of the year and electric excitement that hung in the air as the anticipation mounted. Now, the feeling was vanished, and the mess of the now hopeful resolutioners remained.

“If Nana was here she would tell you to sing and get on with it,” Anna spoke to Charlotte as she brought another tray of glasses to Tommy. The commotion in the kitchen was so ongoing that he was surprised Charlotte heard her at all.

“Singing songs makes the work go faster,” Charlotte quipped her grandmother’s words as she dumped the dustpan into the trash and tucked it and the broom away, joining Tommy behind the bar to dry the accumulation of wet glasses.

Anna leaned on the bar, grabbing one of the cotton towels, “Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?” She began, pausing with a grin as she waited for Charlotte to join her.

Charlotte took a breath, “Should old acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne?”

Anna joined her as they continued singing,

“For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne, we'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne. And surely you'll buy your pint cup! and surely I'll buy mine! And we'll take a cup o' kindness yet , for auld lang syne”

Tommy chuckled at them as they mimicked drunkards singing war songs in a pub. They swung their arms back and forth as if they each held a full glass before collapsing in a fit of laughter.

Once the bar was ready for the next day, Charlotte sat on a stool, finally accepting it was her turn to have a drink, with a sigh, “What time do we have to be there tomorrow?”

“Well, it’s later today,” he prodded, returning the now very damp towel to where he had found it as he razzed her just a tad, “but as long as we leave by 9:00 we’ll be there in time. It starts at 1:05.”

She gestured for Tommy to grab one of the bottles as she poured him and Anna a drink also.

“Where are you going?” Anna joined her on a seat, and eyed both of them inquisitively. He was dashing, no doubt the kind of guy her and her sisters had thought she would end up with the first time around.

“I have one of my horses racing at Saratoga tomorrow.” Tommy informed her as he reached to return the bottle to its home.

Anna nodded as she took a sip of her drink and her phone started to ring, “Shit, sorry, I have to go, my Uber is here.” She gave Charlotte a quick hug, “it was nice to meet you, Tommy.” She concluded with a small wave as she rushed from the bar, the door faltering before slamming shut, keeping the winter wind and snow outside where it belonged.

“That was her seal of approval,” Charlotte explained as she drank her glass dry.

“Well I’ll take that to her yelling at me at the beginning of the night.”

He came around the bar to take the seat next to her as Charlotte let out a laugh. “That sounds like Anna.”

Charlotte took her cousin’s drink as they sat in each others silence. There was still some noise in the kitchen occasionally as things were being finished up.

“So, shall you stay here tonight? There’s no point in trying to make your way back across town to sleep on couch at your office, and I’m sure you’re not driving all the way back home tonight.”

He almost choked on his drink at her curtness, but at the same time he appreciated it. While the office couch was comfortable it wasn’t what it was intended for and he could feel his back taking a toll from it already. He would gladly trade being alone for holding her in his arms through the night.

“That would probably make the most sense. I’ll have to go back in the morning to get the other clothes I’ve brought with me, but that’s nothing terribly difficult to manage.”

Tommy was surprised to see her apartment as it wasn’t at all what he had pictured, however, at the same time maybe it was exactly as he would have pictured it as he hadn’t given it much thought. Vintage furniture and decor from almost every decade adorned it. The walls were hung with gilded and painted photo frames, the green and gold wallpaper ran floor to ceiling.

Two green velvet sofas were the center of the room, separated by a coffee table. Charlotte sat down on one of them and motioned for him to join her.

“I was going to ask earlier today, but,” Charlotte began as she removed the bar pin from her hair as well as the Bobby pins that kept the rest of her curls restrained, “who was the little Russian girl?”

Tommy stared at her, brow furrowed, trying to pinpoint what she was talking about, “Little Russian girl?”

Charlotte struggled to picture her again, “Brown hair, red lipstick, she,” Charlotte ruffled her hair so it fell over her shoulders, “she was there. She was the one that told them the sapphire was cursed. It’s the last memory she has. I can feel hundreds of good ones before that moment but then that’s the last one, and it almost makes me sick. Something ended up happening between them, didn’t it? Between Tommy and her?”

He nodded slowly, his stomach dropping in an anxious turn. His eyes traced the patterns hidden in the damask wallpaper as he recalled the woman putting on Grace’s perfume, “Her name was Tatiana Petrovna. She was a Russian duchess. Unfortunately, yes, lots of things happened between them. She was part of orchestrating a business deal that he took on.” Tommy shook his head and was surprised when Charlotte let out a chuckle.

“I’ve never seen someone manage to look,” she squinted as she continued to observe him, “so aroused and disgusted at the same time.”

“She was just crazy. She was good, but, she was crazy.” He shook his head slowly, recalling the chaos of Tommy chasing a half naked woman with a loaded gun who wanted to fuck him.

“In what way?”

“In what way was she crazy, or in what way was she good?” His eyes were intense as she looked at him, one eyebrow raised incredulously.

“Both.”

“Well, both were in bed,” he huffed as he stared off into space, “she was a morally corrupt person but,” he sighed, trailing off as he shook his head, “she called it “Khlysty”, a Siberian prayer. Now, people would call it erotic asphyxiation. She manipulated him while he was still grieving his wife, and he used her as a vessel to be able to, even if he was hallucinating from lack of oxygen, make love to her one last time.” He shrugged, his eyes on fire as he looked at her once again, “No sense denying it if it worked.”

Charlotte took in his words, the blip, the memory, repeating in her mind as some of the tension regarding the situation was allowed to resolve and disappear, the answer she received not quite being what her heart had hoped for, “The moment Grace saw her, she knew she wanted to fuck him.”

“He never wanted anyone but Grace. That night, he almost wanted her to fail. He almost, almost, wanted her to kill him so he could be with Grace forever.”

Charlotte lay her head on his shoulder, finding a strange, twisted, reassurance in his statement. As if by that truth she was also the only one he would ever want.

She rose from the couch with a stretch as she looked at the clock. It was nearing 4:30 in the morning.

“I’m going to go grab a shower quick,” Charlotte said fighting off a yawn, as his eyes traced the curve of her hip and up her side before she continued to speak, “you can join me, if you’d like. If not, I’ll need you to free me from this thing,” she gestured wildly to the zipper and buttons securing her top behind her neck, “first.”

He obliged her offer, following her into the cloud of scalding water she had procured to pour from the tap, their clothes left in a heap at the foot of the bed.

She dunked her head under the water and he realized as she stood there, eyes closed and red lips parted that there was something in the vulnerability of that moment that made her so easy to kiss.

His hands found either side of her neck as their lips met. Her hands roamed him smoothly as the water poured over and between them.

With eyes closed to avoid getting water in them Charlotte blindly felt for the head of his cock. She found him gently, her fingers softly, barely, touching him as he let a moan pass between his lips and into her mouth.

She slowly ran her hand down the shaft before removing her hand and returning it to the head, repeating the process over again with a startling slowness, trying to figure out how she had managed to take the whole of it inside of her.

He gently pulled her from the warm water, his fingers tight against the back of her arms as he pressed her against the cool tile wall, causing her to arch her body into his.

He placed one final kiss on her lips before trailing them across her cheek and chin on his way to her neck. Her stomach flipped as she felt his warm breath on her throat.

The sound of the noises leaving her lips from just from his mouth on her throat were almost enough to make him explode. He shifted his focus to continuing to please her as his mouth followed the curve of her body. Her fingers were caught in his damp hair as she pushed it from his face.

She let her other hand rest on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her waist, his tongue circling and flicking the metal rod that passed through the soft flesh of her nipple. His right hand trailed the inside of her left thigh, fingers squeezing firmly on her hip before gently moving to her clit.

Charlotte let out a series of higher pitched moans before biting down on her lip.

“Just—“ her labored breathing interrupted her own words as she squirmed, struggling to keep her balance on the wet floor.

“Fuck, Tommy.” She hissed as he found and hit the perfect spot on her clit. She moved her hips to press against his fingers more.

A small whimper slipped thru her lips as his fingers abandoned her completely. His cock throbbed and twitched as she let out a surprised gasp at the warmth of his mouth between her thighs.

Her moans echoed from the four walls that surrounded them as her head made a dull thud against the tile.

“Ow.” She whimpered, but he had difficulty holding back a laugh as she barely sounded that she could be in pain at all.

He appreciated the taste of her as he let his tongue wander inside her, the warm musk meeting his tongue and filling his nostrils as he found himself struggling to not burst as he kneeled in front of her.

Her fingers tightened in his hair as she adjusted her hips ever so slightly to make the angle better.

“Okay, okay, okay.” She gasped as she gently pulled his head away from her by his hair. The look that clouded his eyes told her that he wanted to absolutely devour her.

“I’m sorry,” she spoke as she struggled to catch her breath, her chest, ears, and neck were beat red, “I just can’t,” she sighed, “take anymore.”

He smiled as he rose to meet her and she brought her lips to his. He grabbed her firmly by the thighs as she held on to him tightly, although his strength was doing most of the work of keeping her pinned against the wall. Her hand shook and fumbled as she guided him inside her.

The hot water was beginning to cool as Tommy kept her body pressed against the wall, mesmerized by the feeling of her as she surrounded him. He would have kept going the way they were, but the water turned ice cold.

He turned the shower off quickly before they suffered the wrath of the offending chill any further.

Charlotte barely towel dried her hair and skimmed her body before she led Tommy to the bed, pushing him against the headboard before situating herself atop him.

Her labored breaths and soft moans bewitched him as she slid on and off of his cock. She bit her lip in an effort to keep quiet but it was no use as she let out a louder lament.

Her lips captured his before whispered words escaped her between staggered breath, “Tommy,” the way she whispered his name almost did him in, “choke me.”

“What?” He grasped her hips firmly as she stopped moving.

“Choke me,” she whispered, “just to try it.”

The look in her eyes told him it wasn’t because she wanted to imagine someone else. He looked to the side while he considered her proposition, catching her eyes again before he responded, “Only if you do the same.”

He obliged her request as she did his.

The thick smog from Garrison Lane hung in the air as he opened the door to the pub. Silence echoed around him as he slowly entered. Not a person around. The door to the snug just inside the bar was cracked, he pushed it open to find it empty.

He didn’t move until he heard her take a deep breath, turning to see his Connemara girl behind the bar. The white blouse with the cape collar and red skirt had been so deeply etched in his recollection of her, so much so that of course that’s what she wore.

“Hello, Grace.” He spoke slowly removing his cap and placing it at the bar as he sat in front of her.

“I tried to find you, Tommy.” The sound of her voice elated him, to finally hear her after so long, to hear the way her Irish accent said his name, “The girl, that all you saw was a lock of blonde hair hanging out of a sheet covering her body on the side of the road. The thought haunted you for weeks. I was so close.”

His heart sank at the thought. 1954. A car accident.

“The second time I missed you completely. I couldn’t find you. Until I found an obituary.” Her eyes held tears.

“Grace, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t try harder.” That was all he had ever longed for. To be able to apologize to her. For everything.

“I went and stood at the end of those gates, after Charlie had the house built, but I never went and knocked on the door.”

His eyes were glassy as she sat the whiskey in front of him.

“You’ve got another chance, Tommy. Whether you think you deserve it or not. You need to take it.”

He rounded the bar wanting nothing more than to embrace her. To hold her close but no matter how much he pushed he couldn’t touch her.

“You never have been able to relax. To let go. You haven’t left your own mind, Tommy. You’re stuck unless you can let go.”

He swallowed hard, “What is she seeing now?”

“Since I’m here, she’s able to run free with my thoughts. I can only keep her out for so long, to keep the bad parts of you from showing through.”

He nodded slowly, “She needs to see the bad too, Grace. She needs to see I’m not good.”

“If he let the wall down, you’d be even more seen than you already are.”

“That’s why he keeps the walls up, Grace, he doesn’t want me to be seen.”

He knocked down the glass of whiskey before placing the flat cap back on his head and exiting the frosted glass doors into the mist.

Charlotte took a gasping breath as Tommy’s hand fell from her throat. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him, feeling even more bare than she was, if that was remotely possible. They had both reached their climax in the midst of the phantasm. Charlotte’s fingers lingered at his throat, trailing his collar bone before she sat herself next to him, burying herself beneath the blankets.

“So is that what I am to be tomorrow then? The bait?” He looked at her with an eyebrow raised, knowing she was talking of the crude instance of Tommy subjecting Grace to Billy Kimber at the horse race, as she continued,“‘Start of the day I was Lady Sarah of Connemara. By the end I was a whore with the clap.’”

She was stone faced as she repeated the words to him. He could see the way she readied herself for betrayal if he said yes. The way her body tensed as if preparing for a physical blow saddened him.

“No,” he shook his head as he joined her under the covers “no, c’mere,” he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek gently before pressing his forehead to hers so she would have to look at him, “the person who made those decisions is the person I am desperately striving to not let myself become.”

“You better not.” She kissed him and he tucked her under his chin.

She drifted off to sleep quickly, but Tommy couldn’t get his eyes to close. He quietly removed himself from the bed, putting his best effort forward to not wake her.

He retrieved his underwear from the haphazard pile of clothing, and ventured into the living room, cracking the large multipaned window before lighting a cigarette. He ashed out the window before perusing her bookshelf.

On one of the cases, each shelf, along with a wide variety of literature, held a minuscule painting. No bigger than a quarter. The first was of the Milky Way, bright in the sky over a field.

The second was a small black and white depiction of Times Square, sometime in the 1930s.

The third was the head of The Statue of Liberty, still under construction in Paris.

He crouched to view the fourth one, steadying himself on the handle of a drawer, as he spied the tiniest depiction of Big Ben he had ever seen. The were all signed by the same artist. The signature just as minuscule as the works themselves that he could barely make it out with the lack of light.

She had been looking and not knowing what for. The connections, the thoughts maybe had came to the surface for her before, through time, although as no more that a flicker of something she enjoyed with no explanation why.

He rose and returned to the window and ashed the cigarette again, staring at the drawer. Something in him now felt the desperate need to know what was inside.

He instead busied himself looking through her record collection, sat next to a vintage Crosley record player. Jack White, practically every album. Band of Skulls, a few of those. PJ Harvey. Nick Cave. Dan Auerbach. She had a very specific taste.

He found himself resigned to sneaking a look in the drawer. It slid open quietly as he finished the cigarette, tossing the remainder out the window into the snow bank below. It was crammed full of photos, void of their frames, haphazardly facing every which way.

A large one in the midst caught his eye, the corner of the photo filled with white fabric. He pulled it gently from the stack to see Charlotte dressed in a beautiful white gown with a bouquet of flowers. He assumed based on context that the man in the tuxedo was James.

He could see the devil in the man’s eyes. He knew because sometimes he saw it in his own eyes, too. She looked so happy while he somehow looked less than thrilled to be there.

“Are you snooping?” Charlotte asked with a yawn as she tied her robe around her and closed the gap between them sleepily.

“Yes,” Tommy spoke as she took the photo from him and returned it to the drawer, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“One of the bad things, about being someone who’s survived trauma, you start to learn the creek of every board, the way the door sounds when it opens, the sliding of every drawer. Even when you don’t have to anymore.”

“C’mere.” He offered his hand to her in the short distance between them. She took it hesitantly, and he held her close in front of him, so they could both look out the window.

She relaxed as he wrapped his arms around her with a small squeeze, one arm draped over her shoulder, the other closing the circle, across her chest, as he placed a kiss on her neck before resting his head against hers. She held on to his forearm with both hands, surprised he wasn’t freezing in front of the open window.

“He…” she began, letting out a deep sigh as she let her head lean back against his shoulder as he swayed them back and forth, “he did it in front of me. Stuck the barrel of the Glock in his mouth and pulled the trigger. He had held it on me for about an hour. I had tried talking to him, seriously, about getting a divorce. Neither of us were happy. He was always convinced there was someone else. Beat me black and blue over it a couple of times.”

His jaw clenched as he took a steadying breath with a shake of his head, eyes closed.

“He questioned me the whole time about who it was, where I met him, so on and so forth. He wasn’t satisfied when I had no answer to the questions, because there wasn’t one.” She shrugged, shaking her head back and forth as her eyes glazed over starting off into the distance.

Tommy didn’t stop her, he only listened. He wondered if Grace had dealt with anything similar, anything parallel. It didn’t matter, he supposed, but all he ever heard was that her husband committed suicide. That was the story.

“He told me, he’d save me the trouble of filing the paperwork and just…” her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth as tears finally leaked from her eyes, “pulled the trigger. I’ve never told anyone that I saw him do it. ”

After what felt like an hour Tommy finally spoke, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know. I just hope it gives you some context why I am the way I am.”

He turned her around to face him, her eyes red from trying to hold in tears. He wiped the half dried ones from her face with his thumb.

“I’ll carry a torch for you, just the way you are.”

[vertiny]

top three eras styling 💖

bec ilysm 🫶 okay so styling is so so fun in some eras so imma... not cheat, but ! break it up into two sections, hope you don't mind ! (one of these might just be purely bc of a hair colour but technically hair is a part of the stylings 👀 (i could do a whole top for hairstyles but that's not what we're here for) + these are gonna be a mix of mv stylings, stage stylings, etc.)

sorry this took so long getting out, i thnk i put Too Much thought into it KSJDGH

under the cut bc pictures are involved and i feel like i talked too much 🥹

SECTION ONE: BY MEMBER

1. yongseung - series ‘o’ [round 3 : whole]. i swear it’s not JUST his hair that puts him here but like . THIS HAIR COLOUR !!!!! wine red / burgundy yongs so dear to my heart, but other than that, the outfit choices made for him were such good ones. we always love a suit look, and there's smth about the copper(?) silk shirt that sits lovely against him, with a pop of a different pattern thanks to the collar, and then the silk shirts in general were just good choices, sarah stickered and seal of approval-ed, the whole works dskjgh, and then ig i just have a thing for yongs being in the orange / brown colour-wheel (especially with this hair) bc it just Suits Him, idk what else to say

2. hwanwoong - pygmalion. a mutual of mine got a real-time view into me, who was a singular leedo bias with a fondness for hwanwoong, who had also already seen the solo concept pics, completely disregard leedo in the group concept pics and zoomed right into hwanwoong with a caption of "HELLOOOO SAILOR 🤩🥰" so he was welcomed into the bias line officially... i think that speaks for itself SKDJGH and if it doesn't, look at the photos. they speak for themselves 🤭 (we also got yongseung & hwanwoong interactions again this era so many pluses in my book ! debut besties (oneus + vrvr debuted same day !) near and dear to me<3)

3. seonghwa - fever: epilogue. look at the material, need i say more? DKDKS no but fr, the pink hair is def a top reason this era of styling lives on in my head. we also got pink-haired vampire!seonghwa so… that’s worth all the hype 😌 also probs has smth to do with pink being my fave colour when i was younger, but either way, it's the colouring of everything together that really makes this era a fave. like, okay, hwa's got pink hair, but they didn't make it a hot pink that ran many possibilities of clashing with everything, and it's not a washed-out distant breath of the colour pink but a nice middle ground, and like i said before, look at the material. the brightness of the pink works with the dark blue and grey jacket, the pink goes up against the blue / green (teal?) of the overcoat and only serves to (imo) heighten the pop the coat brings - the clothes under the coat and the background are all monotone and yet, despite the pink, your eyes are instantly drawn to the coat. the third photo . well. that hwa might just live rent free in my head so i'm incredibly biased on it, and imma sound like a broken record but his pink hair is tied in with the pops of pink on the jacket, and there's spots of different patterns that draw your eye, but none that overwhelm you. and as for the fourth pic... pink (cat) hwa is so beloved to me and that's all i gotta say

(honourable mentions: seonghwa - halazia / seonghwa - crazy form / seonghwa - wonderland (bc sword<3) / yeosang - bouncy (esp this look & special mentions to these two hair stylings) / yeonho - undercover (esp this look) / gyehyeon - undercover (specifically 220508 & 220503) / wooyoung - bouncy (for this hair accessory & this styling alone lol idk i like it a lot) / seonghwa - deja vu / yongseung - crazy like that - and imma stop here bc i could apparently keep adding more :starcry:)

-

SECTION TWO: BY GROUP

1. verivery - tag tag tag. look, you know me, you know what my favourite colour is (red) lol BUT EVEN THEN there’s smth about the styling for this era that just hits so well. idk, it’s a mix of casual, of flowy, of literally “just some dudes” kinda looks that just work so well. i looooove the mix of fabrics and patterns and how cohesive they are while all being strong outfits all in their own. this set of stage outfits (pictured below) are, imo, great, like . giving dongheon (1) and yeonho (5) “red heavy” fits, giving hoyoung (2) and yongseung (6) black jackets to break up the monotonous of the singular colour, having gyehyeon (4) in a complete red look BUT using a deeper red and blue / black plaid overshirt to make him stand out AND THEN putting minchan (3) and kangmin (7) in black and white fits with a red accent belt? (even tho you can't really see the belt on minchan lol) SO GOOD 🤩 and even after all that, they've all got bits of silver jewelry that ties them all together too

2. p1harmony - killin' it. okay, so we aren't even in this era YET!! but like . the stuff i've seen... yeah, she deserves it. keeho (1) looks so good i'm 😭, theo (2) looks dark and edgy, jiung (3) looks - in the best way - like he's about to start a fight (and win) idk how to explain it but its so good, intak (4) i want his shirt rn plsnthx it looks like someone grabbed the stars and made it into a shirt 🤩, soul (5) is a son and batshit insane (affectionate) and i'm like so ?!?!? about his hair this era !! i don't think i could do it but it's so sick and suits him so well and jongseob (6) i lowkey expected a nosebleed in the styling? SDJKGH I KNOW THAT SOUNDS STUPID but i feel like it'd fit for his styling alone? not in the overall styling but if it was just him? piwon generally always has solid stylings !

3. victon - voice: the future is now. the era has 3 stylings but these two are so 🫶 !!!! to me lol (it's also my first victon era so it's v dear to me) the left side's styling gives off aristocratic vampires and i didn't know i needed this kind of styling in my life until i laid eyes on it ! the shirts all look like they're velvet and soft so that's always a plus in my books. and then the right side's styling !! i'd describe it as "casual royal" lmao it's the mix of them all in a simple pant, and then the jackets / coats are all bedazzled (and all different styles of bedazzlements !!!) making them the true statement pieces, and we both know that means they're sparkly and . well . gimme, i want them 🤲 SKDKD

(honourable mentions: verivery - get away / verivery - trigger / ateez - bouncy / ateez - crazy form / p1harmony - harmony: all in / oneus - pygmalion / oneus - baila conmigo / verivery - tap tap / verivery - undercover)

[lavenderjewels]

JJK season 2 ep 22 Thoughts!

+ manga spoilers❗️

Crunchyroll subtitles using they/them for Uraume is a relief after they used he/him for Tengen for no reason earlier in the season (also uzumaki is translated directly instead of maelstrom from movies translated! which is better for both the junji ito reference and consistency with the official manga)

Kenjaku, acting like they didn’t give birth to the child in front of them: sukunas vessel is tough! :o

Liked the episode! Naturally not as spectacular as some of the fight heavy episodes, but I actually love exposition/info heavy scenes, especially if there’s fun character interactions too. The power system is the most fun when it’s woven into the story like Kenjaku’s excuse for maximum uzumaki.

Mei Mei scene was just as bad as i thought it would be. Incredibly messed up that she’s where Nanami could only dream to go to, and taking advantage of her younger brother there,,, Too many anime/manga I’ve consumed (bsd, ouran, csm, sxf, etc.) have these exact trope(s) I hate at some point and the various reasoning behind it in each never really justifies the portrayal for me 😭 Unsure if it’s worse or better this is never brought up again in the manga.

Kenjaku turning Mahito into an orb was SO beautiful. The screams and distortion of Mahito’s body added a lot to it. Here’s to Kenjaku consuming 1/2 of their “friends” (Tengen look out)

Happy with Uzumaki! Well, much happier than the movie’s, since I didn’t like how difficult it was to see any of the curses at all. This was better, but the manga, with its Junji Ito seal of approval, depiction was still the most effective and disturbing. The build up to it was gorgeous. I’m still convinced Miwa is going to do something in the upcoming manga fight(s) 😤 Who needs a katana anyways.

Somehow realized this on rewatch, but I like how Kenjaku’s uzumaki was mostly for extracting Mahito’s technique across a vast distance and at specific people, rather than being a move just to take Miwa out. It clearly wasn’t a bother to them if they all survived (since they wanted messengers—and they’d probably end up in the culling games later anyway).

💕💞💓💗💖💝choso💕💞💓💗💖💘💝

I don’t have anything to say about him; he was very cute. I love how animated his expressions are in the anime and manga. Classic fun jjk humor with Kamo from Kyoto High getting scared when Choso screamed his name. I loved the music during his extended fight.

Kenjaku when Choso: This loser? Again?

A lot of characters I love all in one episode, so thrilled to see their interactions. I just like seeing the cast get together for fights and try to help.

Kenjaku flying around on the stingray was a cute addition and the extra bit of fighting was nice! Tiny preview of the fight to come whenever the end of season 3 is animated.

Kenjaku sounded more Evil™️ than I imagined during this scene (the dramatic music helped with that). I can’t wait until the anime finally shows how ridiculous and over-the-top they are, since that honestly makes them a much more entertaining and interesting villain imo. I don’t want to constantly compare to the manga because I adore the anime, but I thought Kenjaku was boring in the first season, until I started the manga. This season does much better (in terms of voice acting, animating expressions, etc) with making them unique and? villainous?? But it’s still leaning a bit more into generic mastermind villain. They can be imposing and a hammy villain parent. Did like their random “hehehe” during it

Uraume looked incredible. LOVE their ice powers and how they were animated. And their insulted and frustrated feelings shone through the voice acting. They do NOT like all those people around sukuna’s vessel and are annoyed to even be near Kenjaku in this whole mess of a situation.

🩷💖💘yuki tsukumo🩷💖💘😘

She is beautiful! And the constant avoidance from Geto and Kenjaku to answer her question about their types of women. With every passing moment, Todo telling only Megumi it’s fine if he likes guys is unbelievably hilarious, but also that’s why Todo is the best.

I’m hoping there’s naobito’s will and naoya included for the next episode. It would be a nice crumb of next season and confirmation of Naobito and maki’s statuses. Every one has covered around 3 chapters, so it’s not impossible. I could only see it not happening if they extend the Yuuta chapter because there’s pages of just text for the higher ups debating and for their decisions to kill yuuji and yaga.

This is how it feels knowing this episode might be the only time Yuuji and Kenjaku ever interact in canon, and Yuuji doesn’t even know about his parentage here:

Would I rather yuuji confront sukuna or kenjaku at the end of jjk? yes. is that going to happen? no.