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theimmaterialplace · 3 years

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holding on | emily prentiss x reader & spencer reid x reader | ch. 3: just the way you are

Chapter Summary: Spencer’s day after.

Contains: mentions of death.

Word Count: 2k

Comments: haha, uni is kicking my ass! sorry for the three weeks it took to post this, this chapter would just not write itself :( also i literally have future chapters finished but i need to get the in between chapters done before that so sorry! a lot may not have happened but spencer is seeing something here. he hasn't been able to come to a conclusion quite yet but he will soon... but will it be before the reader spills? also yeah, this story is filled with headcanons because i can't help myself! :D

i love jj but she gives off overbearing vibes and rn spencer needs some space from everyone that reminds him of emily/will only want to talk about his feelings. little does he know for that first part...

the next chapter is the funeral and after party!!! hope you enjoyed the chapter! lemme know what you think!

masterlist | read on ao3

I would not leave you in times of trouble

We never could have come this far, mmm

I took the good times, I'll take the bad times

I'll take you just the way you are

- Billy Joel, Just The Way You Are

When Spencer enters the room, it reveals relieved coworkers. JJ is the first one to approach him, eyes red and worry evident on her face. She pulls him into a hug as soon as she reaches him.

“Spencer, we were so worried when you left last night,” her whisper might as well be a scolding in his ears but he’ll take it because he never meant to worry his team, not like this. She pulls away and cradles his face gently in her hands.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t realize how bad it would seem to everyone. I… I didn’t want to make anyone worry after everything else.” He closes his eyes, not wanting to see the emotions that will only bring him to his knees.

Derek speaks up then and it’s like he knows. “Well, I’m glad you’re here, kid.” Looking at him, Spencer can tell he hasn’t slept and has cried the whole night through. If he had stayed with them, he likely would look the same. As it is, he barely got a few hours asleep, as haunted as his dreams were.

“Me too.”

His team is in shambles. It’s not just that Emily has gone away and left them, left him, like Gideon or Elle. No, she’s never coming back because she is dead, just like every other cadaver they’ve encountered in their line of work. Statistically speaking, death in their line of work was highly likely and it’s a miracle he’s managed to avoid it for so long.

Perhaps it’s because Emily has always been impressive but he’d never thought she’d be the one to die. If anything, he’d bet himself before anyone else on his team.

His team is talking to one another and Spencer can’t hear anything they’re saying. All their words are blurring into unintelligible words and the only thing he can see are their faces.

Rossi is a slab of stone being chipped at little by little into something unrecognizable. Hotch’s eyes are red and his face is pale and an ever looming cloud of guilt surrounds him. He wonders why; it wasn’t his fault she died. Morgan is much the same but there is an anger in him that he hasn’t seen before.

Morgan’s anger simmers underneath his skin; he’s frustrated that he wasn’t fast enough to save her or to catch Doyle. His sadness has become eclipsed for now but he knows it’s there, buried under the guilt and rage he feels. Perhaps it’s because Garcia takes on the brunt of it, the grief is written all over her face. She’s always worn her emotions on her sleeve and this hasn’t changed. He chooses not to look at her because if he does, he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep it together. Someone so vulnerable makes him want to do the same and he feels vulnerable enough as it is.

JJ is like Hotch, guilt and grief clouds her. She keeps sweeping her hair back and chewing on her cheek, a habit when she doesn’t want to focus on what’s plaguing her.

Their tells are obvious to him and he’s memorized all of them, every little action they’ve done is cataloged in his brain and this is no different. He had already known what they’d be like and what they’d do when he saw them.

He hears Ambassador Prentiss’ voice stutter when she asks why Hotch has called and he wonders if she already knows and wants to hear it before she comes down so she can grieve on her own time. He stays quiet and that’s as good as confirmation for her because her breath hitches and she says she’ll be down in an hour.

Emily never spoke much of her mother but she takes- took after her greatly. They share the same face and hair color. It’s like her mother had asexually produced because he sees no difference between the two; there was no bit of her father in Emily. The only difference between the two are the crow’s feet and smile lines on her mother’s face and he realizes that Emily will grow to her mother’s age because she died too young.

Hotch delivers the news, as expected of his status of Unit Chief, and Ambassador Prentiss is stoic and nods at the news of her only child’s death. She asks for details and Hotch is only able to give her the bare minimum and she only nods and thanks him and the rest of them. She goes up to Morgan and takes his hands into her own and whispers something only for his ears. He stiffens but nods and she goes away with the request that they inform her of their decision of when the funeral is and that she’ll pay for everything.

It’s a bit cold the way she all but announces how she doesn’t want to be included in the planning of her daughter’s funeral but Emily always had described her as cold and distant, loving only in private and when convenient.

The planning process takes up the rest of the afternoon and it passes him by quickly and he knows it’s mostly because he disassociated through most of it. JJ and Hotch shot him with worried glances all day and he just wants to go back to your apartment. He doesn’t want to go to his apartment just yet, not when he'll have to come face to face with the reminders of her in his own apartment.

The funeral is booked three days away and he shoots you a text and you respond a minute later with a simple thumbs up.

He tells the team he’ll be heading out and unsurprisingly JJ speaks up over this.

“Are you sure you want to go back home? I can give you a ride or you can come over. I don’t want you to be alone, Spencer.” Her voice is meant to be soothing in that maternal way she’s learned but it grates at his nerves. He doesn’t need to be babied. He knows she’s just worried about him but Emily’s death has left him exposed in a way that throws him off his rhythm.

“Thanks JJ, but a friend is picking me up. I’ll be staying with her tonight.” The team exchanges looks in a way that is meant to be subtle but Spencer has always had an eye for details so he doesn’t miss it but he doesn’t call it out.

“Oh well, okay, if you’re sure…?” He nods and she acquiesces but says she’ll walk him out. She waits with him outside while he waits for you. You pull up in your car with his favorite Billy Joel song on and he can’t help the tiny grin that spreads on his face.

You look tired but happy to see him and he knows that JJ probably wants to examine you but he really just wants to get out of here and cuts her off before she can say anything and says goodbye to her while getting into your car.

He can smell the aroma of Italian in the backseat and he knows you went to the little restaurant he frequents after a bad case because the food reminds him of when his mother used to order takeout because much like himself, she was a disaster in the kitchen. It made him happy that you remembered.

Billy Joel’s velvet voice is enough to fill the silence. He watches you as you drive, noticing how you tap your fingertips to the beat of the song on the steering wheel and how it’s obvious now that you’re distracting yourself from something. He hadn’t been able to see it before because he was too lost in his own grief but there was something off about your demeanor.

When you finally arrive back at your apartment, he finds it to be cleaner than it was in the morning and set for maximum comfort. Your couch is covered with soft, thick blankets with animals on them, cobijas, you had called them. He’s fairly certain that just means blanket in Spanish. The table that is usually in the middle of your living room is pushed closer to the couch and it’s where you set the food at so he assumes it’s where the two of you will be eating.

Your record player is playing jazz music. A compromise, you had told him one evening, appealing to his classical music needs with it’s long instrumentals and your love of their crooning and smooth voices.

“Hey, Spence, what do we feel like drinking tonight?” Your voice jolts him out of his observations and he looks towards you where you’re peering at the available drinks in your fridge, two ice-filled glasses set on the counter beside you.

“Arnold Palmer?” You hum and grab two pitchers from your fridge and set it out on the counter and he watches as you mix the two together so it’s not separated. You set the two pitchers back into the fridge and bring the two drinks to where he’s sitting, handing him one and placing the other on your coaster.

He watches as you take out the food from the bags and put his own container in front of him along with two pieces of garlic bread and his own fork and napkin.

Once you’re all done, you take a drink from your glass and open your container and take a bite of your usual order. He follows quickly after, knowing from experience how rapidly the food can get cold.

Time passes by and eventually the food gets finished and you’re both left alone with Billie Holiday’s voice filling the silence.

You’re nibbling on the last piece of garlic bread, your eyes focused idly on your bookshelf but more specifically on a collection of Emily Dickinson poems. He files away the fact that he’s seen this specific book somewhere and decides to ask at another time.

Once you finish, you lean your head against his shoulder and wrap your arms around his midsection. He shifts so that you’re in a more comfortable position that lets you rest against him while he’s able to hold onto you as well.

Spencer can’t help but think that you always know what he needs without him needing to say anything. It’s something he hasn’t had since Elle or more accurately, Emily. It’s not even been a month and already, he craves her affection. He misses the impromptu Russian talks and the book sharing and her calming presence. You remind him so much of her. It’s like you've taken on some of her mannerisms. Perhaps it’s projection but he’s noticed for months now how you’ve changed bit by bit into someone similar to Emily.

You must have seen his tell because you look up at him, hand finding his own and squeezing it gently before bringing it to your wrist.

It’s the little things you do that bring him back to reality, no matter how painful it is. He’s not sure where he’d be right now. Most likely with JJ and her family, all the while feeling like a burden. With you, he feels vulnerable in a way he doesn’t mind. He’s known you for years and not once, have you ever made him feel small. It’s always been easy with you and he hopes the same can be said for you about him.

“Stop thinking right now, Spencer. We can do that later, like tomorrow. You need a break right now. I know it’s hard for your big brain to shut down so just focus on my pulse and match your breathing to mine.” Your voice is slightly muffled by his sweater and he can only nod and follow your instructions.

“Thank you.” He says after a while.

“ Always, Spencer.” And like always, you understand.

The words are never said but he’s sure you know it and he knows you feel the same.

#spencer reid x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #my writing #holding on

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drxwsyni · 4 years

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Petrified (pt.4)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: oooooh boy this took a hot minute to write, but i finally forced myself to finish it. and we reached 600 followers recently too!!!! i can’t believe there’s so many of you guys like holy heck. i hope you continue to enjoy what i have to offer :)

4.8k words

Warnings: reader experiences mild anxiety

As much as every ounce of your being begged to escape the confines of your small apartment and return to work, there were certain...motivators, holding you back.

For one, you presumed it’d be safest to heed the words of a medical professional―at least for the time being. Your condition had greatly improved since Friday, disregarding some lingering head pain, and now your self-preservation and common sense seemed to be functioning properly at the moment. In that regard, resting was likely the better idea.

As for the other thing keeping you home...perhaps it would be healthier not to think about it.

You felt ashamed, having been so undeniably intimidated by a couple of men who were simply being kind enough to drive you home last night. However the sensation didn’t come as a shock once you had taken the time to think the ordeal over.

It’s just what came naturally―your brain internalizing experiences, shaping them into something that should scare you.

Any rational person would laugh at your behaviour.

They’re heroes. Clearly what happened was just them expressing harmless concern.

And yet the more you tried to convince yourself of their innocent intentions, the harder it became to ignore the gut feeling that still lingered the morning after.

However, you knew how your brain could be sometimes―refusing to move on from initial impressions despite having rationalized the topic as a whole.

Hizashi was just naturally drawn to affection as a way of showing distress. There was no other meaning behind his lingering touches or endearing nicknames―just concern.

As for Shouta, well he always seemed to be a stern man. It was likely that it just manifests a bit more when he’s worried, it’s just the professionalism in him.

There was no need to stay so fixated on the subject when you could be using your time to catch up on hobbies that you’d greatly neglected as a result of your occupation. Having no reason for doing anything else, a little self-indulgence was practically your only choice.

It was still early, at least for your standards―knowing full well that your lifestyle kept you in bed longer than the average human.

You kept searching for things to do here and there, never staying on one task for too long. First it was cleaning the kitchen, then attempting to read a long abandoned novel. You tried finding something on t.v to watch, but everything only offered you the same empty feeling of boredom. Nothing could pique your interest long enough to hold you to one pastime―and for good reason.

There was a message from Hizashi that remained unopened on your phone since you woke up.

It felt ridiculous, being so hesitant to look at the damned message. Even after telling yourself that there was nothing to worry about, you couldn’t bring yourself to read it. So when you heard the familiar ping not once, but twice in succession while organizing your magazine collection, the feeling of your heart sinking into your stomach did not come as a surprise.

The device was still on your nightstand where you disregarded it last night, and subsequently neglected it this morning. Even through the walls of your bedroom you could still hear the notifications go off.

Inwardly cursing, you had a faint idea that continuing to block out the intrusion would likely lead to more issues between you and the two men. Not that it should, everyone forgets to answer their phone here and there. But you weren’t an idiot―even if it was just paranoia, the consequences of ignoring the messages weren’t something you particularly wanted to think about given the recent behaviour of the heroes.

As expected, the screen was lit up in wait for your return.

From: Hizashi

morning sunshine! just checking up on ya, how r u feeling?

9:17 am

ya doing okay? didn’t pass out again i hope ;)

12:53 pm

if ya keep leaving me hangin i’m gonna get worried songbird…

12:54 pm

Ah yes, you thought, he’s as coddling as normal it seems.

You figured it’d be wise to send a reply before he bust down your door to make sure you were still alive in person.

You:

I’m alright! Just slept in a little :)

12: 54 pm

The response that came instantly was almost a little inhumanly fast.

From: Hizashi

oh thank god, don’t need a repeat of last friday

12:54 pm

You:

Yeah, definitely not. Thanks for checking up on me though!

12:56 pm

From: Hizashi

lemme know if ya need anything picked up, probably not a good idea for you to be going out rn

12:56 pm

Naturally, you wouldn’t let him do that even if you did need anything. God knows how much trouble you’ve been so far―no need to cause more.

You:

Sounds good, I’ll let you know if I do.

I’m actually in the middle of cleaning right now so how bout we talk later :)

12:57 pm

The more you conversed with him, the harder it became to think about anything other than the embarrassing experiences you had with the man. It was probably best if you gave up the conversation, knowing you’d have more than enough time to chat when you regrettably were forced to eat dinner with him and his partner.

Thankfully, he seemed to be okay with the proposition as well.

From: Hizashi

aww alright, don’t work urself too hard sunshine!

12:58 pm

Too bothered to give a proper farewell, you turned your phone off, leaving it on do not disturb to avoid further distress.

_____

You’d spent the rest of the day tidying up here and there. It turns out focusing solely on going to work only to come home for rest had left your apartment shamefully messy. Every now and again your thoughts would drift back to the two intrusions in your life as of lately. It was invasive―not being able to leave well enough alone. You weren’t physically near them they still plagued you with anxiety, even if it was just barely recognizable.

Dinnertime came soon enough, and you’d spent it mindlessly scrolling through social media. The feeling of wanting to chuck your phone across the room was fleeting―but present―as you momentarily laid eyes on a post having to do with Present Mic and his radio show. It would seem not even in your perceived distraction could you distance yourself from the thoughts and feelings related to him and his somber counterpart.

The night went on, slowly but surely. For better or for worse you let yourself get lost in the endless play-through of television. Some shows you’d seen before, others you hadn’t. It didn’t really matter when the only purpose they served was to keep your mind on something that didn’t have your hair falling out from stress.

Eventually you felt your mind become foggy with exhaustion once again―and you couldn’t be more thankful.

_____

Wednesday was spent doing many of the same things as the day before. Cleaning―so much cleaning. Turns out you’d missed a lot yesterday, and the lighting of the somewhat early morning sun was more than enough to highlight all the dirt and grime that had yet to be scrubbed away.

So you got to work, feeling rejuvenated with a good night’s sleep.

By the time you made it to six o’clock you felt thoroughly beat, and in the best way. You spent your time eating thinking about the work day you would have tomorrow. Sure, you were aware that it’d only bring the all too familiar sluggishness to your body. But you were a people pleaser, so really that sensation didn’t matter at the end of the day. What mattered was the motivation you felt that spurred you to work―both the verbal and nonverbal praise those who purchased the fruits of your labour gave.

Expectedly, when you woke up Thursday morning, although it was closer to the afternoon at that point, there was a spring in your step as you readied yourself for the day.

As always the comforting smell of fresh greenery in the air was much appreciated as you stepped into the floral boutique. Your coworker greeted you with open arms, regarding your seemingly healthy recovery. It was nearing the end of their shift, and therefore soon to be the beginning of yours, so you headed to the employee designated portion of the building to make the few preparations for the start of your night.

Naturally, you were quickly subjected to the whims and demands of customers when you took your place at the front counter. Given the monotonous time you spent away from any meaningful stimulation, the activity was appreciated.

You were assorting foliage left right and center, the company you worked for obtaining quite the substantial amount of earnings in the process. The time went by steadily, you working diligently alongside of it. Request after request was met, not even the few unsavoury interactions phased you all the much amidst the bustling atmosphere. A few familiar faces entered the shop, to which you greeted with a comforting warmth only good service could provide.

It felt good to be caught up in routine, making the nearing end of it only the more bitter. But it still came, and you were going through the motions of tending to the final arrangement with somewhat slowed movements as a result of your quirk usage.

The awaiting customer hastily took the finished product before paying and exiting the establishment. People tended to be in a bit of a rush at this hour, likely due to the lateness of the night. You disregarded the occurrence and settled for cleaning up for the rest of your shift.

There was sweeping and disinfecting to be done, along with tidying up the assembly station and checking on the greenery room one last time. You went through the tasks absentmindedly, having done them countless times before. The routine was like second nature, allowing your thoughts to go over the events of the workday.

You were giving a final once over of the plant life when the high pitched jingle of the front door bell rang out through the shop.

Really? At this hour you’re trying to buy flowers even though it’s literally closing time?

Giving a sigh of frustration you stepped out of the room and headed to the front. But low and behold, it was not in fact an incompetent customer waiting to be served.

“Did you even consider staying home for the whole week?” The erasure hero was leaning against the front counter when you entered the room. He was smirking ever so slightly, almost as if he knew that both of you were aware that you wouldn’t stay away from work. His tone was even teasing, making your frustrations go away only to be replaced by a slight feeling of flusteredness under his intense gaze. You didn’t know whether you preferred this side of him or the side that made you want to curl into a ball after being berated by unyielding lecturing mixed with interrogation.

“Hello to you too. I’m sorry if you're here for flowers cause it’s pretty much closing time.”

Just then Hizashi walked out from behind a display stand, making his way next to Shouta. “Not quite listener! Just wanted to make sure you were still up for that repayment we talked about.”

Ah yes, like you could forget that any time soon.

“Of course. Still not sure how it makes up for things but since you insist...who am I to say no?” You were behind the counter, taking stock of today's earnings as Shouta continued.

“I suppose it’s not really a traditional form of repayment, but we promise you’ll enjoy it. To be honest we don’t have company over often, so it’ll be a nice change of pace for us too.”

It was a relief to see that their behaviour wasn’t nearly as hostile as it was a few nights ago. Frankly, you just barely got out of that situation without breaking down from your highly anxious nerves.

“Ya finishing up there songbird? We’ll give you a ride home.” Joyous as ever, Hizashi was all too eager to put you further in debt.

Expectedly, his partner was quick to agree to the proposition. “That’s not a bad idea. Not to sound patronizing, but it really is dangerous to be out by yourself at this hour.”

You wrapped up the assessment of the register’s contents, closing the drawer and locking it up. “Thanks for the offer, but I refuse to impose on you two anymore. Besides, walking home can be kinda therapeutic―at least when I’m not tired out of my mind.” You gave a slight chuckle at the end of your statement, having long gotten used to that recurring condition at the end of the day.

“We weren’t asking, (y/n). You're still recovering, even though you probably won’t admit it. And I won’t beat around the bush―you’re too vulnerable in this state.”

It would seem Shouta’s previous attitude was just for show. Does he ever get tired of being so serious all the time?

It was like second nature at this point―direct confrontation leading to an initially mild panic that would soon snowball into a full blown breakdown if the occurrence persists.

You kept up the friendly appearance nonetheless.“I just think I’d prefer―”

“It’s no problem, sweetheart. You know we don’t mind helpin’ ya out. Besides we still gotta work out when you’re comin over, yeah?” The blond’s smile did little to calm the growing apprehension you felt.

Just be a little more stubborn. Some people need that extra reminder.

“It’s fine, really. I’ll just message you for the details and―”

“(Y/n).” It made your stomach churn―the lowness in the erasure hero's voice. He wasn’t having it. For a moment you pondered whether he’d ever really care about what you had to say.

“Just finish closing up, ‘kay hun? We’ll wait right here until you’re done.” Hizashi kept his eyes on you in wait for a response, or even an action that would show you’d comprehended what they said. And of course you had―you just desperately wished they’d never said it in the first place.

You felt ashamed, and it was becoming an all too familiar feeling when you were around the two men. But it was just who you were, met with compassion but only getting dejected by it. You were uncomfortable, there was no denying that. Backed into a corner that shouldn’t exist, but does because you didn’t have the will to change the situation into your favour.

Despite your distress, the part of you that put others before yourself prevailed.

“Okay, I guess. Just―um...gimme a few minutes please.” You wondered if they could even hear your reply, given that even to yourself it sounded almost non existent. It didn’t matter. You were fleeing to the employee room without bothering to find out.

You stood in front of your locker, hands shaking in the slightest as you got changed―apron off, jacket on, backpack slung over your shoulder. The coolness of the thin metal offered some relief, you keeping your hands atop the closed door for a moment to calm your rapidly beating heart.

At least you’d get home quickly, you thought.

As they promised, the two were waiting in the seating area at the front of the shop, quietly making conversation with each other. The sound of your footsteps alerted them to your presence.

“Ready to rock and roll?” Hizashi stood up from his seat, his partner following suit.

You gave the room a quick once over, making sure everything was where it needed to be. “I think so.” A quiet ride back home was what you hoped for, but there was more to be discussed, much to your dismay.

Shouta held the door open for the two of you, letting you pause to lock up when you had all exited. “How was work today?”

The closeness of his voice as you turned the lock into place made you jump slightly, but you did your best to ignore the temporary fear. “Fine, I suppose. Like any other Thursday night…” You tried to hide the underlying anxiety with a smile, but you couldn’t tell whether or not it did the trick. Giving the front door an experimental tug to make sure it was locked, you turned back to let the two lead you to their car.

You felt a hand settle on the small of your back―Shouta’s hand―as he walked with you while Hizashi remained on your other side, slightly ahead of you. “How’s your head doing, is the medication working?”

The two walked at a casual pace, but to you it felt unbearably slow―what you wouldn’t give to just walk home without the admittedly unwelcomed company. “It still hurts a bit every now and then, but the pills keep the pain at bay for the most part.”

By now you were approaching their car which was parked on the side of the road, the blond opening it for you to step in. Shouta took up the responsibility of driving once again, Hizashi in the passenger's seat.

“Ya gettin’ enough sleep?” You were sitting behind the driver's seat, letting Hizashi have the opportunity to comfortably look back at you while he talked.

“Probably more than enough.”

You heard Shouta start the car before he responded. “That’s good to hear. It’s unfortunate that your work keeps you out so late though.” The car started forward, and you were thankful that at this rate it’d only take a few minutes to reach your apartment. You kept your eyes trained on the passing scenery to avoid any awkward eye contact.

“So when do ya think would be a good day to come over. I’ve got my radio show on Fridays and weekdays don’t always sit too well with teaching ‘n stuff.”

“Yeah...Fridays definitely won’t work for me either. Honestly I don’t really get much time for myself outside of work.” Not that you weren’t used to this reality by now, but every so often you wished your life allowed for just a little more free time. If anything, the horrid state you found your apartment to be in when you were forced to stay home would surely attest to that.

It would seem that Shouta agreed with his partner’s statement, “How about this Saturday? I can come pick you up at around 5:30.”

You contemplated whether it was even worth arguing over letting him give you a ride to their place. And then you remembered exactly what landed you in their car in the present.

You probably wouldn’t get very far with that fight.

“That should be fine.” It was only in your nature to want to offer some form of compensation. You knew that this whole ordeal was meant to be you repaying them, so you should at least try to cater to that reality. “I can make something to bring so you guys don’t have to do all the work. Cooking isn’t really my strong suit but I’m a pretty decent baker―maybe I could put something together for dessert?”

“Nah don’t bother with that babe. We’re supposed to be treating you, remember?”

“Exactly, and I doubt any of us will have room for desert. Another time maybe.”

“Yep! Besides, you being there’s all the sweetness we need.” You didn’t have to look at Hizashi to know the grin he had on his face as he threw around careless sentiments like his literal partner wasn’t sitting right next to him.

The car was pulling into the parking lot of your apartment complex. To be honest you didn’t know how to respond to the nonchalant compliment, “Ah...yeah. Just let me know if there’s any change in plan I guess.” The vehicle came to a stop, you pulling your backpack into your lap while unbuckling the seatbelt.

“Don’t stay up too late, okay?” This time you didn’t make the mistake of looking at Shouta as he talked, for fear that his glare would burn holes through your skull. Instead you pretended to fiddle with something on your bag while responding.

“Yeah, thanks for the ride.”

The car door unlocked, letting you step outside into the brisk fresh air. Before you could close the door you heard Hizashi calling out to you, hand placed behind the headrest of his partner’s seat as he turned to speak to you. “We can give you a ride home tomorrow after work if ya’d like. Shouta’s got nothin’ going on―it’d be no trouble.”

“No,” that was definitely not something you needed, “I’ve got something I need to do after work actually, but thanks for the offer.” There was nothing to attend to after your shift, but they didn’t need to know that. Lying was never something you were the best at, and you hoped the shakiness in your voice didn’t give too much away.

“Alrighty then songbird, just thought I’d ask.”

“Have a good night (y/n).”

You smiled at the blond facing you, “Thanks, you too.” Before they could get another word out, as at this point you felt they would take up more of your time if possible, you shut the car door. Once again giving a small wave before you entered the building, you found it all too hard to contemplate how you’d politely weasel your way out of this newly developed relationship after the ensuing Saturday night.

_____

Friday came and went as expected. Waking up with the familiar sluggishness plaguing your body, moving past the sensation to go about your duties―everything falling into place as routine. Meeting the demands of love-stricken individuals was as taxing as normal, but it was all you had to make you feel like you were contributing something valuable to society. At the end of the day it was worth doing questionable things to your health.

The slightly less honourable motivation in the form of decent tips was always an added bonus. Your co-workers mentioned a few times that somehow you always ended up with a higher profit than the rest of them. It made you feel slightly guilty, but the usage of your quirk was likely the reasoning behind the occurrence.

Nights like these always ended with more earnings than normal―given the sheer volume of customers compared to the typical weekday traffic. Right now you took solace in the reward as you usually do at the end of your shift, thumbing through the few generous bills you received.

Satisfied with the haul, you completed your mental checklist that you’d formed over time to ensure that all tasks were completed by the end of the day. Your keys felt heavy in your wearied hands as you locked up, turning on the heels of your feet in the direction of your awaiting apartment.

You’d be lying if you said you were surprised to see that the two mildly invasive heroes hadn’t checked in to see that you were actually busy after work. Not that you wanted them to―having to lie once again wasn’t in your best interest. Still, the phenomenon that was their recurring presence had not gone unnoticed. More often than not you found your thoughts drifting to past experiences with them, and therefore regrettably resurfacing some unpleasant feelings.

For now however, you did your best to fixate on other, less mentally damaging things. In light of recent events you chose to take the long way home, inwardly shuddering as you passed the alleyway which you ever so carelessly ventured into exactly a week ago.

Maybe you were just hyperaware due to some lingering paranoia, but you could’ve sworn you could make out rustling in certain places around you―places that shouldn’t exactly be making that much noise.

Behind you. No...above you? Or was it both―the sounds distinct but lacking just enough to throw off your comprehension to make a full analysis of their origin.

Forget about it for God’s sake. You’re tired. It’s been a long day and you’re anxious because you got jumped just seven days ago in the same area.

But you could hear it.

Shifting in the shadows. Muffled but there all the same.

Footsteps?

The possibility had your heart rate growing faster by the second.

Not footsteps, just your mind playing tricks on you. You’re okay.

Unconsciously, your pace grew quicker, the patter of your shoes hitting the pavement sounding off below you. In the midst of your panic riddled thoughts you failed to register that you’d reached your destination.

An audible sigh escaped your lips as you observed the towering building with gratitude.

You kept up the hastened strides, reaching your apartment in good time. The time between stepping through the threshold of the abode and when your head hit your pillow was a blur―but really those monotonous details weren’t all that imperative.

As much as you wanted to get a good night's sleep, your subconscious had other plans. You reached the state of deep slumber that you desired, but it was riddled with offending nightmares.

Dark looming figures in the corner of your eyes, disappearing when you tried to get a good look at them. Running from something that placed a deep set fear into your very being, despite not having even seen what the atrocity was.

It left you to wake in a cold, sticky feeling sweat. Disheveled and disoriented, the time didn’t quite matter―wanting only for the feeling of trepidation to dissipate so you can return to a hopefully more peaceful sleep.

_____

Keys clattered loudly on the glass countertop of the side table in the entryway as Shouta haphazardly emptied his pocket’s contents. The sound of a running shower could be heard on the floor above him, making the presence of his boisterous partner known. He removed the heavy combat boots of his hero costume and lazily sauntered to the shared bedroom.

By the time he got there the shower had turned off, and he occupied himself with changing out of his attire for something less restricting in wait for the blond to make an appearance.

He’d just finished getting settled when Hizashi exited the attached washroom to their bedroom, hair still damp and lightly soaking the t-shirt he’d thrown on. “Well, don’t keep me waiting’”

The voice hero leaned against the headboard of their bed, “She didn’t have any plans, I watched her walk straight home after her shift and she never left the apartment either.”

Hizashi’s usually persistently bright smile faltered, “Ah...she probably forgot about them or something.”

“Do you really believe that?”

The disappointment was evident in the blond’s face, “Would she really just lie to us like that, even though we’re tryin’ to help her?”

The erasure hero sighed, “She’s self-destructive, it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen her put herself in danger without second thought.”

“God, Shou’―and she’s always shakin’ like a leaf. I don’t even think the poor thing realizes she’s doin’ it either.”

Shouta looked to the ceiling for a moment as if searching for an answer that would please his partner, “We can try and bring it up with her―see if there’s a reason behind all this.”

“And what if she lies to us again, huh? I can’t keep watching her hurt herself babe.”

At that the erasure hero stood up from his position on the bed, making his way over to the washroom in hopes of a shower relaxing his nerves. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Let’s just see how dinner goes first, okay?”

“But what if she never tells us what’s goin’ on? I mean she’s already avoiding us for christ’s sake, what’s to stop her from―”

“If anything happens we’ll deal with it ‘Zashi. I don’t want to hear anything more of it until after we sit down with her, got it?” He paused at the doorway as emphasis, waiting for his partner's agreement on the matter.

“Yeah okay, sorry.”

“Don’t be, I care about her too, remember?” With that he closed the door before his partner could add to the conversation.

_____

When you did finally wake up from that hellish night, almost entirely riddled with disturbing dreams, you were left with a lingering feeling of dread. A pit in your stomach that remained persistent no matter how much you tried to think of something other than the incomprehensible yet sickening scenarios that unwillingly played out inside your head.

Looking at your phone didn’t help you settle into a more agreeable state either.

It was just past midday―giving you roughly five hours until you had to pull yourself together to sit through what was hopefully the last encounter with the two heroes.

For now however, you listened to the sound of the birds chirping outside your window―it was always easier to get lost in your surroundings than actively trying to solve your own issues.

Maybe by the time you had to leave you’d feel better. But even if you didn’t, the dull ache of ailment was always persistent in your life in one way or another―so what was one more problem?

End of Part 4

_____

taglist: @roseloverofpastels @shinsous-eye-bags @tjhonoluluprezstitch626 @pekusofixus @riarora @glitterypinkkitty

#yandere bnha #yandere erasermic #yandere eraserhead #yandere present mic #yandere my hero academia #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere mha

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kaweeella · 3 years

Text

The April Fools

I spent too much time on this.

Word count- 2177

Tsuzuru says pog, also some swearing

It had started out a normal day. Well, relatively normal, as it was April fools day and of course, pranks were on the rise.

Izumi stood in the kitchen, drinking coffee, hoping that mischief would wait a little while longer.

She could hear the door open and the person make their way to the kitchen. Izumi doesn’t look up though, she could hardly even keep her eyes open. The night before she helped at a nearby theater, which went longer than expected.

“Good morning, Director.”

“Morning…”

“Are you okay? You seem tired.”

“I had a long night last night.” She rubbed her eyes. Looking up she saw that she was talking to… “Kazunari?”

“Yeah?” He looked a little confused.

She thought for a moment. “Oh I get it.”

“Get what?”

“The joke. It’s funny, you got me.”

“I’m not joking though?”

“Come on, the bit’s over.”

“What bit?” He grew exasperated.

Before the back and forth could continue, Masumi entered the kitchen.

“Izumi, he’s acting weird.”

“Who?”

“Tsuzuru. He’s even more annoying.”

As if on cue, Tsuzuru stepped in.

“Hey, Zumi!”

Kazunari sighed. “Good morning, Minagi.”

Masumi looked between the two.

Izumi began laughing, catching all three of them off guard.

“Oh, okay. That was good. Great dedication.”

“She’s doing it again…” Kazunari said.

“I’m not really getting it…”

“Come on, Usu,” Tsuzuru gave him a light punch on the arm. “She’s having a good time. That’s pogs, right?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“It’s pogs.” He said quietly.

“What’s with all the noise in here?!” Sakyo yelled.

“I’m not entirely sure.” Kazunari answered.

“Kazunari and Tsuzuru are giving a great April fools performance.”

“Huh? I haven’t even gotten to my jokes yet.” Tsuzuru said.

“It has been fun, boys, but you’re not tricking me.” She walked out of the room, still laughing.

“Right, well, if you’re going to be pranking or whatever, do it quietly.”

“Got it, Saki!” Tsuzuru gave double finger gun.

“... what?”

“I’ll be quiet. No cap.” He gave a goofy grin

“What does that mean?”

“It means he’s not lying.” Kazunari translated. “You could’ve just said that.”

“Come on, Kinari-iro.”

Sakyo sighed and left, feeling the oncoming migraine.

Citron and Sakuya passed him, talking about something or another.

“Good morning, guys!” Sakuya greeted.

“Hello! Sweep well?”

“Sleep, Citron.” Kazunari corrected.

“Good morning, Sakun! Hey Kankitsu, do you think we could do a Citrun act today?”

“That would be fun, yes!”

“Stop encouraging him.” Masumi said.

“Well, this has been weird, but I’ve got homework to do.” Kazunari excused himself from the kitchen.

“Seeya, Kinari-iro!”

Citron pulled the other two to the side. “Somethings going on with them.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“What do you think’s going on?”

“Izumi said that it’s just a prank.”

“What’re you guys talking about?” Chikage startled the three of them.

“Tsuzuru’s been more annoying than usual.”

They looked over at him, taking selfies.

“He does seem to be acting strangely.”

“He didn’t even correct me when I messed up earlier.”

“Yeah, Kazunari did.”

“Kage!” Tsuzuru walked up to him and gave him a strong pat on the back. “Didn’t even see you come in! What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much. Itaru said he wanted to see you.”

“Really? What for?”

“Something about that isekai harem what's-it you guys talked about during the KotR play, I think.”

Tsuzuru laughed. “Right, that. Brb!”

“He did?” Sakuya asked.

“No, it would just be a little hard to talk about him behind his back if he’s in the room. So did he hit his head or something?”

“I don’t think so. He just started saying weird things when he woke up.” Masumi looked at the door leading out to the dorms. “Izumi said it’s a prank,”

“I’m not sure, though,” Sakuya interjected. “He was keeping it up even when we weren’t looking.”

“Maybe it’s a long con.” Chikage suggested.

“Tsuzuru can’t keep a straight face on something like this to save his life.” Masumi said. “Have you seen him off-stage?”

Chikage thought for a moment. “I have an idea.”

~~~

Kazunari had just left the kitchen and headed straight up to his room.

“Good morning, Kazunari.” Muku greeted.

“Good morning, Muku.”

“W-what?”

“I said good morning.”

“Are you mad at me? Did I upset you? I’m sorry if I did.”

“What? No, I’m not mad at all, let alone at you.”

“A pathetic piece of dirt like me doesn’t have the right to put emotional strain on anyone!”

“Whoa, Muku, calm down.” He placed his hand on the quivering boy’s shoulder. “I’m not mad, why would you think that?”

“Because you always call me Mukkun, and I don’t know why you’d stop unless you’re mad at me!”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, I’ll just go so I don’t upset you with my crummy presence.” He quickly left the room, Kazunari watched.

“People are acting so weird today.”

Muku ran out to the courtyard and bumped into Kumon and Juza.

“Muku, what happened?!” Kumon asked as Juza rubbed his back.

“K-kazunari he-” He can hardly form a sentence.

“Kazunari?”

“Did he hurt you?” Juza asked, looking a little angry.

“No, no… it’s my fault. He’s mad at me!”

“What for?”

“I don’t know…”

“How do you know it’s your fault?”

“Why wouldn’t it be my fault?”

“Hey, Uku, what’s wrong?” Tsuzuru knelt down to the crying boy.

“Kazunari’s mad at me…”

“I’m sure he’s not mad at you, he may just be having an… off day.”

“Wait Tsuzuru, what was that?” Kumon asked.

“He’s having an off day...?”

“No, before that, what’d you call Muku?”

“Uku.” He said with a smile.

Muku’s tears grew in intensity. “It’s really cute. Thank you.”

Tsuzuru didn’t entirely understand, but he sounded happier, so he didn’t say anything.

“How ‘bout we get something to eat.” Juza suggested.

Muku nodded and the three of them stood up and slowly walked to the kitchen, comforting Muku the whole time.

Tsuzuru got up and knocked on Itaru’s door.

“I’m busy!” He yelled. A few minutes passed before anything else. “Damn.” He opened the door. “What is it?”

“Kage said you wanted to talk to me.”

“Ka… what?”

“Yeah, about the script you wanted.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then,” Itaru closed the door.

“Seeya, Takai!”

After a moment, Itaru opened the door. “What?”

“I said seeya! Maybe you and Kumo need to get your hearing checked.”

“... give me a minute.”

Itaru looked up to the sky.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m trying to see if there’s an apocalypse.”

“No, but it has been a little strange today.”

“You’re telling me.” He thought for a moment. “I see what’s happening here.”

“What?”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“No, I-”

“It’s April first. You’re just messing with me. Good job, I will be getting back at you though.”

“Zumi said something like that, too. Is this some big prank you guys orchestrated and me and Kinari-iro are the targets?”

Itaru took in a deep breath.

“Fuck it.” Itaru marched to the kitchen, where he saw the rest of the spring troupe, Muku, Kumon, and Juza.

“Hello, Itaru.” Chikage greeted. “I take it you’ve spoken with Tsuzuru?”

“Yeah, what the hell’s up with him?”

“We aren’t sure yet.” Sakuya said.

“He and Kazunari are acting wired.”

“Weird.” Masumi corrected.

“Kazunari?”

“Yeah,”

Itaru paused, as he had a realization.

“Personality swap.”

“What?”

“They swapped personalities or whatever.”

“So that’s why Tsuzuru’s giving everyone nicknames?” Chikage asked

“And Kazunari has been using our names?” Sakuya continued.

“Seems like it.”

“So Kazunari’s not mad at me?”

“Uh probably not, no.”

“Whatever it is, they’ve gone too far.” Juza said. “He hurt Muku, they shoulda dropped it when they saw that.”

“I’m not sure this is a prank.” Itaru thought out loud. “Like you said, it hurt someone but also, Tsuzuru seemed way too adamant for it to be a prank.”

“There’s one way to find out.” Chikage walked to the door and saw Tsuzuru, taking more selfies by the flowers. “Tsuzuru, could you come here for a minute?”

“What’s up, Kage?” He asked as he strolled up to the door.

“I just wanted to see how things were going.” He gives him a strong pat on the back.

“The lighting’s sups good rn, so I thought I could get some pics.”

“That’s good. Sorry to interrupt that, I just wanted to chat.”

“Cool, I’ve gotta go now! Bye!”

They said their goodbyes and Sakuya moved to Chikage’s side.

“What’s the plan?”

“I planted a bug on him. If he talks like that when he’s alone, we’ll know it isn’t a joke.”

“What do you mean?” Kumon asked this time.

“We act for an audience,” Chikage took out a strange device and started messing with it. “If there’s no audience, there’s no need to act. There.” He set it on the table.

“Kuru!” Tsuzuru greeted Yuki.

“What is it, Villager C?” He said, not noticing the nickname.

“I wanted to see how you’re doing, Kuru!”

“What?”

“Well, you’re here, so I thought I’d ask.”

“What’re you doing? What’s your game here?”

“No game, dude, just wanted to say hey.”

“Give me a minute.” Yuki entered the common area. “The fucks up with Villager C?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Chikage stared at the device.

“Hey Kinari-iro, whassup?” Rang out from the speaker.

“I’m a little busy right now.”

“Uku was kinda really sad earlier. He said you’re upset with him.”

“Oh, really? I should apologize then, huh?”

“Are you?”

“No, I don’t know why he thought that.”

Their talk went on for a little while before it was interrupted by Misumi and Hisoka breaking in through the windows and Chikage at the door. They grabbed the confused men.

“Hey!” Tsuzuru yelped.

“Alright, now it’s time to find out what the hell’s up with them.” Chikage said to Itaru.

“Us?!” Kazunari yelled.

“Yeah, you were acting really weird.” Masumi said.

Kazunari looked flabbergasted, he attempted to gesture around the room to the people who just burst in and grabbed them. There was some struggle on account of the fact that Hisoka had him by the wrists.

“Yeah, not to be judgy, but you guys are the ones being weird if anyone is.” Tsuzuru said, encaptured in what could only be described as a bear hug by Misumi.

“God that’s weird.” Banri muttered from the door.

Izumi walked into the room, sighing.

“You two have been acting atypical all morning.”

“No… I’d say this is pretty standard.” Kazunari said.

“I’d have to disagree…” Tasuku commented.

“So, what, are you saying me and Minagi suddenly became different people?”

“Stranger things have happened!” Misumi said, lifting Tsuzuru a little.

“And we’re supposed to just believe that? It’s absurd!”

“I never thought I’d see the day Kazunari called something absurd.” Tenma said.

“I can’t believe it.” Kazunari looked at his troupemates. “I can see them trying to pull this weird- whatever this is- but you guys?”

“Listen Friendly McExtravert, we’re all as confused as you.”

“I don’t mind it all that much. Mitsu is a really good hugger.”

“Thank you! I love the nickname!”

“I thought you would. You’re so based.”

“Based?” Tsumugi mumbled.

“Please make him stop using internet lingo.” Yuki said.

“And could we do it quickly? I’m tired.” Hisoka said.

“You’re always tired.” Tasuku shot back.

“If you wait a little while longer, I’ll get you some fancy marshmallows.” Homare offered.

“So how do we get them back to normal?” Muku asked. “Or is it impossible, and we’ll have to continue our lives with what are strangers in friends’ faces? How much will change?”

“Muku, you’re spiraling.” Juza said.

“But how do we go about this?” Azuma asked.

“It’s likely that whatever method was used to make them this way, we can work backwards to put them back to normal.” Guy suggested.

“But what made them like this?” Izumi asked. “Masumi, did Tsuzuru do something weird yesterday?”

“No. He went to bed and when I woke up he was talking like that.”

“Anyone else?”

It was the same story, nothing unusual happened the prior day. Izumi thought for a moment.

“What if it happened in their sleep or something?”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. Magic or something. Stranger things have happened.”

“You’re so smart…”

“Magic? Director, I think your imagination is getting a little too wild.”

“I mean, it’s not the first time someone temporarily changed into a completely different person for a strange reason. Remember when Banri put that talisman on Taichi?” Omi said.

“I don’t…” Taichi muttered.

“What happened?” Azami asked. Taichi wasn’t the only one not there for it.

“He was possessed or some shit.” Banri answered. “He was kinda a dick.”

“Sakyo beat him up afterwards.” Juza said.

“That part I remember…”

“Anyway!” Izumi clapped her hands together. “Maybe they’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”

“Well, what do we do until then?” Kazunari asked, finally getting his arms back from Hisoka.

“I don’t know about them, but I’m getting as much footage of Tsuzuru like this as possible.” Itaru whispered.

“Great for blackmail.” Chikage responded.

“Yep.”

#a3!#a3! tsuzuru #a3! kazunari #a3! act! addict! actors!#act addict actors #a3! fanfic #im not tagging all 25 of them

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kember-writes · 3 years

Note

👀 🖊 😈

For the ask game 😇

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

Of course I do, who among us is free of sin? Mostly it's the ones that are straight-up p*rn (that I might make an alt account to post so I don't have to orphan them entirely).

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

I loooove leaving off a chapter on an angsty cliffhanger, and I love unreliable narrator-type misdirection. I know my readers secretly love it too, but you wouldn't be able to tell that from some of the comments lol

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

Below the cut to save on space.

ask about my writing!

Remus had turned his back. He’d turned his back on the Wizarding world, clamouring for answers; on Mary, the only real survivor of their bitter war, although he knew she must be just as broken as he was. He’d turned his back on Harry, who needed him most. He’d walked away from his best friend’s son, who had nothing and nobody in the whole world, because he couldn’t bear it.

And he hated himself. God, how he hated every second of being Remus Lupin! Not a morning broke that he didn’t feel the flush of relief that he was still alive, followed by a surge of hate so strong it could swamp him in bed for the whole day. He had contemplated, in those endless silent hours between waking and dreaming, whether it was worth it. Why should he cling on when so much goodness, so much usefulness, had been stripped from the world? What did he contribute to justify his being here, above the ground? And yet his traitor heart thundered on, a religious beat that refused to let him rest, refused to let him forget that he had turned his back on everything.

Until that morning in early January when the news broke, and he felt certain his heart had stopped in his chest.

BLACK ESCAPES AZKABAN

He scrambled for the newspaper on the kitchen table, snatching it up as though he might have simply misread the headline. No such luck. His eyes skipped over the blocks of text beneath, unable to settle and read properly, snagging on any small phrase or factoid that stood out. Known Death Eater and right-hand man and traitor and supremacist and guilty and unknown means and powerful Dark magic and 29th December 1981. That was over a week ago; the Ministry had kept that one hush-hush, hadn’t they? Azkaban’s first break-out in… ever, if Remus recalled correctly, and such a high-profile prisoner at that. And the fact that it was in the papers meant they hadn’t been able to find him and sweep the whole thing under the rug.

He was still out there. Roaming free. He could be anywhere, doing anything. Looking for whatever might be left of You-Know-Who. Hunting for Harry, to finish the job he’d started. Trying to find Remus.

There was a knock on the front door, and his heart stopped for the second time in as many minutes.

It wasn’t Sirius, couldn’t be Sirius, Sirius had no idea where he was. Remus had relocated, at Dumbledore’s insistence, just before the fog settled over him. 3rd of November, he’d moved in to the red-brick terrace in a grotty suburb of Manchester, and hadn’t been able to find the time to notify anybody. Owls would find him, of course, but not friends. Not convicts. Not traitors.

He cursed his heart for its foolish hopeful flutter, and opened the door.

#ask #thanks for asking!#screamingfae #writing

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

fifty questions you’ve never been asked

thx krisp for tagging me @toenialls sorry it took 4eva

1. what is the colour of your hairbrush? rose gold

2. a food you never eat? radishes or cucumbers came to mind first, i hate them both

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? too warm

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? watching buffy the vampire slayer

5. what is your favourite candy bar? twix!!!!!!

6. have you ever been to a professional sports event? mmmhmm

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? idk something to my dog like “bye ily”

8. what is your favourite ice cream? chocolate or target has this awesome mint cookies and cream

9. what was the last thing you had to drink? water

10. do you like your wallet? yeah i got a new one recently i love, its blush and has a little handle to slide onto your wrist

11. what was the last thing you ate? a piece of dark chocolate

12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend? a dress off target’s website i guess

13. the last sporting event you watched? hahah a soccer game last fall

14. what is your favourite flavour of popcorn? there are flavors? i guess kettle corn

15. who is the last person you sent a text message to? my kinda best friend

16. ever go camping? nah i never liked it, but i’d be up for trying it again

17. do you take vitamins? yeah just a daily one

18. do you go to church every sunday? hell no

19. do you have a tan? yeah no

20. do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? pizza always, i dislike chinese

21. do you drink your soda with a straw? first it’s called pop, and yeah if it’s in a lidded cup like from a fast food place

22. what colour socks do you usually wear? um i have different colors but they’re usually white with a colored toe and hell

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? heheh yeah but not much

24. what terrifies you? losing people i love and failure

25. look to your left, what do you see? my door

26. what chore do you hate? mopping and sweeping i guess, had to do it all the time at my old job

27. what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? "aye mate” ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

28. what’s your favourite soda? *pop and it’s coke, tastes better from a can cold

29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? um mostly i go inside

30. who’s the last person you talked to? my dad

31. favourite cut of beef? idk imma just say a steak, they’re better than burgers

32. last song you listened to? currently listening to painkiller by beach bunny

33. last book you read? i just finished eleanor and park for the second time last night and fuck that ending

34. favorite day of the week? friday

35. can you say the alphabet backwards? ooooo yes i learned it at my first job bc the preschoolers were taught it. its so funny seeing how amazed people are when i can do it lol

36. how do you like your coffee? decaf, lots of cream and sugar and some vanilla

37. favourite pair of shoes? my fake silicon-ish birks from target

38. at what time do you normally go to bed? im trying to fix it lately but rn its like 2-3am

39. at what time do you normally get up? noon haha but thats after struggling and pressing snooze

40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? sunsets

41. how many blankets are on your bed? 2 and 1 at the end

42. describe your kitchen plates? idk i hardly use them and theyre my parents’ and i hate them, i prefer bowls

43. do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? um a bacardi coke or a fruity wine cooler

44. do you play cards? yeah i guess like solitaire and cribbage and some poker and other card games

45. what colour is your car? red

46. can you change a tire? hell nah

47. what is your favourite state/province? idk i guess minnesota bc i live there i dont really have a fav

48. favourite job you’ve ever had? workstudy - you get paid to do your homework once your duties are done

49. how did you get your biggest scar? i have one on my cheek thats from a glass ceiling light bulb falling on my face when my brother’s head hit it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

50. what did you do today that made someone else happy? idk my dog was probably happy that i played with him and found his tennis balls he loves

whoever wants to do this you can tag me

#tag challenge #me #challenge

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autumnrory · 4 years

Text

50 questions you’ve never been asked.

i was tagged by @ifthiswasmovie thank u!!

1. what is the colour of your hairbrush? the one i use most is black, i’ve got a blue one too

2. a food you never eat? i am truly the pickiest person but i guess i’ll tolerate vegetables i don’t like in certain meals, so i’m gonna say mushrooms

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? too cold i think

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? watching star wars

5. what is your favourite candy bar? reese’s (they’re not a bar do they count? otherwise twix)

6. have you ever been to a professional sports event? yes! i used to go to hockey games when i was a kid and i’ve at least been to baseball too maybe football once? hard to say

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? i don’t remember but it was to my mom a few minutes ago

8. what is your favourite ice cream? if we’re just going like single flavor, then chocolate, but i like the ones that have stuff like brownie or peanut butter cups or something the best

9. what was the last thing you had to drink? milk

10. do you like your wallet? yes it was a gift it’s cute

11. what was the last thing you ate? i’m eating a cupcake rn

12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend? um no i ordered a new purse though (after buying a bunch of clothes over the last couple weeks lmao)

13. the last sporting event you watched? uh i guess i might’ve seen snippets of the super bowl? we were eating dinner during the halftime show so

14. what is your favourite flavour of popcorn? i do like cheesy popcorn but i’m content with the regular stuff

15. who is the last person you sent a text message to? uhh i think it was our group text i guess i was directly responding to my pal sara

16. ever go camping? i think i went a couple times for girl scouts and then once with school

17. do you take vitamins? no

18. do you go to church every sunday? definitely not

19. do you have a tan? i’m a ginger

20. do you prefer chinese food or pizza? ooh i love both but probably chinese a little bit

21. do you drink your soda with a straw? i don’t drink soda much only if it’s all my parents have when we get fast food i usually just get myself water so

22. what colour socks do you usually wear? i’m pretty much always wearing socks with animals or s/t on them i might have more with neutral colored backgrounds but idk

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? yeah but not like too much lmao

24. what terrifies you? a lot bc i have Anxiety

25. look to your left, what do you see? a couch, my dog

26. what chore do you hate? sweeping sdfkjs we have so much pet hair

27. what do you think of when you hear an australian accent? nothing?? but the question made me think of chase on house since i’m rewatching that rn

28. what’s your favourite soda? i guess coke is the best lmao

29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? both but usually go in

30. who’s the last person you talked to? my mom

31. favourite cut of beef? brisket i guess?? i had to google cuts of beef sdkjfkjs

32. last song you listened to? so long by niall horan

33. last book you read? three weeks with my brother by nicholas sparks

34. favourite day of the week? friday and saturday

35. can you say the alphabet backwards? with a lot of thinking ya

36. how do you like your coffee? i like frappucinos

37. favourite pair of shoes? my black over the knee boots

38. at what time do you normally go to bed? 1 or 2 am

39. at what time do you normally get up? 10 am much later on weekends

40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? i’m not a morning person so sunsets

41. how many blankets are on your bed? i have a quilt and a thin blanket i usually only use the blanket under my covers unless it’s super cold

42. describe your kitchen plates. there are fruits around the edges to match our kitchen

43. do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? rum and coke is my go to at bars mostly bc unless i have a menu i have no idea what the mixed drink options are i like the fruity pink ones

44. do you play cards? not really? i used to sometimes i guess

45. what colour is your car? red

46. can you change a tire? absoluetly not

47. what is your favourite province? uh i don’t have one

48. favourite job you’ve ever had? well i’ve only really had two i guess i liked my internship a lil better than what i’m doing now unless i can count petsitting bc that’s the best

49. how did you get your biggest scar? uh it’s pretty small but when i was like four i ran into my dad’s desk and cracked my head open

50. what did you do today that made someone else happy? i helped my mom order things online

uhhh say i tagged you if you want!

#about me #hope i got all these

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boymeetsweevil · 6 years

Text

Dead Man Sells no Toes

Grouping: Witch!Reader x ??Namjoon

Word Count: ~5.2k

Summary: Your thoughts have a mind of their own when it comes to the cute delivery human with the mysterious tattoos

Warnings/Themes: SMUT like basically PWP but also where is that plot, sis?, 69, fingering, blowjobs, cunnilingus, mind reading, species-ism? Too many Halloween Town references, Joon with tattoos (lol is that a warning) , its unedited rn

A/N: This is my late af submission for the BTS Smut Club Halloween Smut Fest. Prompt #18 “Please don’t touch the human remains”

You’re grinding up the last of your final case of artificial dried newt when the sound of the crows cawing alerts you to a customer entering your shop. It’s still early, and though you do get customers throughout the day, they’re usually fairly consistent in the times that they come to pick up their orders now that you’ve been open for business for almost 8 months.

“Hello, dear,” a creaky voice greets you.

There’s no visual sign of the body the voice comes from, but that’s not at all unusual and you know exactly who the customer is. It’s the old ghoul who comes in regularly to get a fix for her wrinkles. She’s a couple hundred years old and it’s starting to show on her face, so she comes in without an appearance every time she’s out of product. The unusual part is that you just gave her a fresh batch yesterday; one that’s supposed to last her two weeks. If she’s back and without a form, something is wrong.

Your familiar, Augustus, and his best friend flap down from their resting post on one of the high shelves to sit next to you on their respective perches on the counter. You set the half-ground newt aside and reach out to pet at Gus’ inky black feathers.

“Eudora,” you nod at the air in front of you out of habit, “How can I help you today?”

“I’m sure you can guess, child. It’s your youth elixir,” Eudora says matter-of-factly.

“I figured as much. Did it not work this time? Because I promise you, I used pure Italian imported moonbeams, like I always do.”

“No, no. I dropped it, so I have no idea if your moonbeams are the issue. It’s all over the floor of my kitchen and its reverting the wood back to shoots!”

“Oh,” you breathe. It’s a relief that your recipe is still working, though you know your gifts wouldn’t fail you in such an elementary area. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yes, so I’d like to purchase another batch now.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why ever not?”

“Because I can only ever make so much with the shipments of dead man’s toes I order each time and you clear me out every time you’re in here.”

“Are you telling me you don’t have any toes? Because I can see a carton right behind you! I may be invisible right now, but I still have my eyesight about me.”

“You’re right, I have some left,” you put emphasis on some, “But that’s reserved for other customers’ orders. I can’t use all the toes on just your orders, that’s not fair to the others.”

“I have an anniversary dinner tonight. Isn’t this more important than anyone else’s order?”

You suppress the urge to sigh and roll your eyes. Eudora may be difficult at times, but your youth elixir is ingredient heavy and time intensive and you charge a hefty price for even smaller samples. But thanks to her vanity, she pays for a rather large amount each time. You’re almost certain that you could pay the whole shop’s monthly ley line bill with just the profits from her orders alone. This time, though, your hands really are tied.

“I can’t violate my customers’ privacy by revealing to you what products they’re purchasing, but I can assure you that some of the orders that require the dead man’s toes are quite important.”

Eudora’s quiet for a moment as she contemplates her options.

“Well, what about leftovers? Can’t you do something with that? Make a smaller batch?”

“I could,” Augustus pecks at your long bell sleeve until you stick a hand out so he can hop up your arm and perch on your shoulder. “But it wouldn’t even take a half-century off. I don’t think you’d be happy with that after getting used to the original strength.”

“When’s the next shipment coming in?”

You pick up the parchment that has your list of scheduled delivery dates. Turn it over so that Eudora can see it, though you’re not sure where she’s standing exactly.

“Perfect,” the scroll dents as she sticks her finger on the most recent scheduled delivery. “It’s scheduled for today.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and you realize you don’t have the schedule memorized correctly. A wave of giddiness washes over you and suddenly you need Eudora out of your shop so you can clean up and get things looking presentable.

“I’ll just stop by later today to pick it up. You can do a rush order, can’t you, dear?”

“Eudora, you know I can’t. Potion making really is a delicate process, you can’t rush it even if you buy those new high-tech speed catalysts everyone keeps talking about. If I were to rush your order, you might experience reverse effects.”

“Oh,” she gasps. “Alright, fine. I suppose I can wait. Alan won’t mind seeing my haggard face this one time.”

“Allan loves you face, regardless of whether or not you’ve used the elixir. Besides, you’ve been paired ghouls for centuries longer than you’ve been using my little old mix.”

Eudora scoffs. “Your little old mix is what makes Allan cough up the extra urks to take us to Cauldron Bleu tonight.”

“Then, I suppose you had better go pick a dining robe.”

“Yes, I really should. But I expect a batch double the size next time around, child.”

“As long as you know that’ll cost you twice the amount, Eudora.”

“I don’t care how much it costs as long as I look how I should. I’ll see myself off, now.”

You wave goodbye, knowing she’s not looking, and tell her to have a good day. You receive no response, but you’re expecting as much.

“Is she gone,” you whisper after a while.

Augustus and his friend squawk an affirmative, so you turn around and immediately put the newt you were grinding in the store room. The large sundial on the north wall tells you that you have a little less than an hour to clean up the shop and perhaps put an enchantment on your skin and hair to make you look a little more put together. For professional purposes, you remind yourself. Not to make yourself more pleasing to the delivery man’s eye, of course.

While you’re in the middle of trying to get your broom to sweep the snippets of rat’s hair from the last hair growth cream you’d been experimenting with, the bell rings again. You curse under your breath and wipe your hands on your apron.

“Welcome to Circadian Apothecary, how may I help—oh, its just you. What are you doing here, Jolluck?”

“That’s a great way to greet your friend.” When you stare blankly at her, she rolls her eyes. “You said we’d have lunch today, remember?”

The wet sound of her webbed feet smacking across the floor remind you that you’ll have to mop after you kick her out. She rests her forearms against the countertop, smudging the surface with the thin, clear mucus that coats her scales when she leaves water for longer than a few minutes. You’ll have to clean that too.

“Can we please take a rain check? Or maybe we could get dinner. I just…I have a delivery coming.”

“Oh! With the human! I’m sticking around. I wanna see him.” “Jolluck!”

“What? Is that not what he is?”

“You don’t know his background.”

“You’ve smelled him right? If it smells like a human and it looks like a human and it walks like a human, it’s a human.”

“If he’s human, how did he cross the veil, huh?”

“Humans cross all the time.”

“Only when they’re screwing vampires, though!”

“Or werewolves,” she points a webbed finger at you.

“True,” you purse your lips. “Either way, you can’t be here. It’ll be weird if you stare at him.”

“You just wanna keep him for yourself. I heard he’s not bad-looking for a flesh puppet.” She grins and swipes her tongue across her fangs playfully.

“Jolluck, seriously, you can’t think about him like that if you want to be here. That’s so offensive.”

She raises her hands in surrender. “Sorry, when did you become such a fan of humans?”

“I’m not a fan, I just…think they’ve changed a lot since the pitchfork days.”

“You’re just saying that because you went to their realm for schooling. Why did you do that again?”

“I swear I’ve told you this, like, 20 times. I think they have a really interesting way of understanding the elements.”

“I heard they’re kind of wrong, though.”

“No, they are. But they raise some interesting issues. And they have some really nice stories and their view of history is so funny. They don’t realize half of their royalty were just warring Goblin tribes that got a little land hungry.”

Jolluck’s eyes widen and she lets out a laugh. “How could anyone not know that? That’s so sad, they’re such simple creatures.”

“Yeah, well, they’re still not as bad as anyone here makes them out to be. And I think you and the rest of town hall needs to stop crowding Namjoon.”

“Fine. But don’t let him know you’re so smitten with him. He’ll try and burn you at the stake or something.”

“I told you, they don’t do that anymore. Oh shit!” You spy him out the corner of your eye, wheeling the cart full of your new inventory towards the front door. “Don’t say anything stupid, okay?”

You say a few words, an unnecessarily powerful hex, and the air crackles around your heads. A sudden gust of what seems like wind runs through the shop before circling back and passing through you roughly. When it clears everything is glistening likes it’s just been freshly scrubbed, but you’re instantly weak and visibly paler.

“Are you crazy?” Jolluck runs to your side, her wet footsteps evaporating off the wooden floors like she never stepped there. “All this for a human male?”

“Look, you can see your reflection in the countertops,” you smile dizzily at her.

Namjoon stands politely in front of the glass, waiting for the shop’s magic to acknowledge you of his presence. Seconds later the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, though you know he’s there because you can see him. With a feeble flick of your wrist, the door opens. He rests his open palm on the doorjamb as is customary and pulls the dolly laden with goods behind him.

“Morning,” he greets, with his back turned to you so he can set the boxes on the ground. His bare arms flex as they work to keep the glass jars inside from jostling. The tattoos running from wrist to shoulder are a web of black lines of varying weights. They suit him.

“Hi there.”

He turns quickly at the sound of Jolluck’s voice and notices that she’s holding you up like she’s carrying your dead weight because she is.

“Hi, I’m Namjoon,” he takes a few hesitant steps forward until he can make out the swirling pattern of Jolluck’s scales. He gestures towards you. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. She was just biting off more than she can chew and now she’s half dead. Isn’t that right?”

“Shut up,” you mutter.

You manage to prop yourself up on the counter so you can look up at Namjoon. A large, sleepy smile parts your lips as you take in his adorable dimple and plush lips. He really is very nice-looking, regardless of what the townspeople say. You don’t even mind his smell that much.

His cheeks flush and he bites down on his lip, grinning at his shoes.

“Are you okay to check the inventory and sign off?”

“Hmm, yeah. I just need a drink. Jolly, can you get me a drink?”

She huffs, but brushes past the heavy velvet curtain to find a bottled energizer somewhere in the back of the store room. She returns moments later with a little glass flask that’s stopped with a cork. Which would be fine if you had some strength in your arms, but you’re still very much 80% noodle.

“Namjoon, you can open this, right?”

“Sure,” he smiles and takes the jar from you. His hands are oddly soft for someone whose job consists of heavy lifting and sorting through tons of perilous ingredients to sell to people like you.

Your head lolls to rest on your shoulder and you wonder briefly what his hands would feel like against the skin of your waist or your arms or your inner thighs. He chokes a little and nearly drops the vial but manages to snap it out of the air before it can shatter.

He gives it back to you wordlessly and wipes his now sweaty palms on the fabric of his pants.

“So, what do you have for me?”

“Just the usual shipment.”

“I know, but maybe you can, uh, read it out loud for me. Jog my memory?” You’re being over the top, you know it. But you really like his voice, too. Everything about him is just so…nice.

“Alright. The first thing on the list is standard toadstools, a grade and rehydrated.”

“Hand-picked?” You take a shot of the energizer.

“By yours truly.”

“Nice,” is all you say as you eye his hands once more.

Jolluck leans over to hiss into your ear. “This is disgusting and I’m starving. When are we doing lunch?” “When he stops telling me everything I ordered,” you hiss right back out of the corner of your mouth. “What else is there?”

“There’s more lilac, sage, thyme, and wolf’s bane. Those are all local except for the sage. But I got you a good deal at the market.”

“How nice of you.”

As he lists the other supplies he brought with him, you take the time to nurse your bright green energizer and look Namjoon over some more.

Perhaps you spent too much time in the human realm, but you really do think he’s loads better than that daemon boy Yoongi, who breezes through the shop every so often to show off his solid gold watch collection. Namjoon is tall and nice, and always has a pretty blush around you. You don’t even mind the way he smells, it’s actually not as bad as you remembered during your time at human college.

“Sorry about not bringing the dead man’s toes. I guess the graveyards were a little empty this week. But that’s everything, I think,” he says with finality, folding his list and shoving it in his back pocket. He begins deconstructing the rolling cart he took with him, now that it’s no longer in use with the boxes having been unloaded onto the ground.

“Oh.”

You can’t help but be disappointed that your time with him is ending so soon. And right when you got your strength back, if the tickling hum running through your veins is any indication of the energizer’s effect. So much energy is coursing through you that some magic starts to spark out of your fingers. You quickly hide your hands behind you back, not wanting him to see the sparks and think you’re some young witch with no control over her magic. Although, wiping yourself of nearly all your energy moments before he arrived just to clean the shop sounds like something you might have also done when you were a mere teen.

Jolluck emerges from the stairs in the back that lead to your apartment on the second floor. “Your cabinets are all empty. And your fridge. I’m going shopping.” She waves something that looks suspiciously like your wallet, the urks in it jingle mockingly.

A thought pops into your head, so you decide to just run with it.

“N-namjoon, do you think you could stick around? I’m still feeling kind of shaky and Jolluck is heading to the southern market.”

“The southern market? Why would I go there when I could just go to the one by the Elder woods?”

“Just go,” you give her a smile of mostly bared teeth. You turn to Namjoon again, once Jolluck is out the door. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind. Where should I put them?”

“In the back. I’ll show you.”

You wait for him to pick up the first box, relishing in the way the muscles in his back bunch and coil as he hefts it up into his arms with a soft grunt. He follows behind you quietly while you lead the way.

“Wow.” He takes in the rows and rows of shelves behind the curtain. Each one packed full with various ingredients or preserved things for rituals that are shelf-stable. “You’re no joke.”

“Guess you could say that,” you lean against a wall and watch him open the box. “I was the top of my classes.”

“In witching school?”

“And at a human college?”

“Really,” he stops to peer down at you. “So, you don’t mind humans, then?”

“Not anymore than I mind the folks here. They both have their ups and downs.”

“And I suppose you’ve heard what everyone’s had to say about me?”

He holds up two jars of pickles hooves, unsure of where to put them. You push yourself off the wall and take them from him. He follows behind once again to move the box, and hand you each jar as you stack them on the appropriate shelf.

“I mean, people definitely like to talk to me about you.”

“About my being a human?”

“Yeah, sort of. But probably more because you’re human. People think I love all things human just because I went to school with them.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“About humans?”

“About me.”

Before you can stop yourself, your tongue sticks out playfully between your teeth. “You really wanna know?”

“I do,” he smiles down at you, another jar in hand.

With a crooked finger, you beckon him closer and he moves in with head cocked to the side. You lean in close enough that your lips just barely graze the shell of his ear. He shivers.

“I don’t think you’re really human,” you whisper before grasping the jar and tugging, but it doesn’t budge.

Namjoon stares down at you, wide eyed, before snapping out of his surprise and tugging the jar back, bringing you stumbling with it.

“How’d you know,” he says back in an equally hushed voice.

“What’s that saying you guys have? The nose knows?”

“It was because of my smell? Seriously?”

“What can I say? I spent a lot of time with humans while I was at school with them. I know that smell anywhere. And you do smell like them, but…you also don’t.”

“How do you know it’s not just because I spend a lot of time fae people?”

“Is that why?”

“No,” he grins. You swear it must be a trick of the light, but his eyes flash unnaturally for a second. “My dad was human, but his dad was a seer and my mom was a quarter elf.”

“I knew it. You smell too much like silver to be a human. Not enough copper in you.”

“Congrats on guessing right.”

“Can you do any magic? I know it tends to be weaker when it’s not matrilineal, but genes are funny things.”

“I can’t do much outward production. Mostly just life-force projection, see?”

He pushes up the sleeve of his T-shirt and flexes his bicep, bringing the tattoos into focus. You realize upon closer inspection that they’re moving now. The lines weave together in a periodic fashion, an organic rhythm. Like the tides or another being’s pulse. He pulls up the hem of his shirt to reveal that the tattoos continue down his flanks and spread onto the ridges of his otherwise flat abdomen. Your hand itches to reach out and traces the lines. Would you feel his life-forces thrumming under your finger? Would yours expel to meet his? Were they even compatible enough to do that? You hoped so.

“Wow.”

“I can also um,” he trails off.

“You can also what? You can tell me. Is it embarrassing?”

“Not for me,” he smirks. When you squint out of confusion, his cheeks color and he looks down at the ground. “I have level 2 telepathy.”

“Oh. That’s cool. Why is that embarrassing?”

“I mean, it’s not embarrassing for me. But it sometimes is for other people. Since it’s combination mirrored and tactile telepathy.”

You choke on an inhale and get sent into a coughing fit when you realize that Namjoon can feel your thoughts about him on his skin. It’s probably a side effect of the tattoos he has, so it’s probably not super strong, but it still means that every time you made eye contact with him and thought about how broad his shoulders looked, he felt it in his shoulders. All those times you’d lusted after him while he brought in your orders, he’d felt them.

“I am so sorry,” you gasp with tears of embarrassment pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Had I known, I would have never, ever asked you to stick around so much. I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable. For what its worth, I am truly sorry.”

“It’s really fine. It’s a lot better than what everyone else was thinking when they thought a human had managed to infiltrate town to burn everything to the ground.”

“But still! You shouldn’t have to endure either of those. You could have sent your friend drop things off, I wouldn’t have gotten offended. I just… I don’t know what else to say.”

“It’s really fine.”

“How could it be fine?”

“Because I wasn’t bothered by it,” he admits with a soft smile.

Silently, he takes your hand and places it just millimeters above his forearm. Your life-force, a pale yellow liquid fire, crackles up on the edges of your skin and tangles with his own syrupy black one. A phenomenon that occurs when life force resonance frequencies are compatible.

“Shit.” “Yeah,” he parrots back quietly. “Shit.”

You take a chance and hurl yourself at him. The force takes him by surprise and you manage to knock him onto the floor, barely missing the box containing precious jars of dead man’s toes. But you don’t care because his instantly come to skate up your arms, down your back, to cup your butt. He squeezes appreciatively and lets out a low groan when you reward him with wet, open-mouthed kisses down the column of his neck.

His hands find their way underneath your uniform tunic and press brands into your skin. You keep kissing the parts of his face in a disorganized fashion. First his chin, then his clavicle, then the deep dimple in his cheek, and finally the corner of his mouth. He turns and captures your lips with his own, startling you into submission. At first, he explores the landscape of your mouth with fervent presses and caresses, but eventually he grows curious enough to probe. His tongue sneaks out to lick at the seam of your lips and you open up for him immediately, air from your pants puffing out in between you.

The feeling of his tongue sliding lazily against the tip of yours, dancing along the tender inside of your lip, has you clenching in vain. You move unconsciously so his thigh slots in between yours and begin to rock your hips against him, hoping for a bit of friction.

He chuckles against your mouth before pulling away from a soft, slick sound. “In a hurry?”

“Yeah. I want you to fuck me. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

He curses when his hands finally meet the globes of your breasts. They’re free in the loose material of your tunic and they make for a pleasant weight in his large hands. His thumbs come out to swipe a finely mirrored pattern over your nipples. When you respond with a high whine, he twists them roughly. Almost as if he has control over them, your hips snap against him. Your writhing over him eggs on the growing erection in his trousers, which you can feel nudging your pelvis with every inward thrust.

Your life force is excited enough from the amorous activity that its flowing steadily around your limbs like a ribbon satellite. You ignoring the way thick globules of Namjoon’s life force start to raise from the tattoos to trade spots with some of your own fiery energy. You read about what that means once, but now you couldn’t give two shits about whatever class notes you internalized from school.

“Namjoon, touch me,” you whine when the beginnings of your arousal start to soak your underwear.

“I thought I was touching you.”

You roll your eyes and redirect one of the hands that been rolling your breasts down into your pants. He hisses at the sticky coating that drenches his fingers the moment you pulled your underwear to the side for him. He crooks two fingers and traces your hole as best he can with his wrist turned awkwardly. You shift until your heat sucks him in and begin to grind your clit against him. His other hand snakes around to grab at your ass semi-roughly.

“That’s right. Get yourself off on my hand.”

“I don’t want to cum like this,” you pant against his neck.

“How do you want to cum?”

“On your tongue,” you admit. You’re glad he can’t see how hot your face got, but you let out a yelp when he shifts his palm even closer to your heat.

“I like that idea. Get up here.”

You scrabble onto your knees above him and slip out of your clothes as best you can without kneeing him anywhere important. As soon as you’re bare, his hands land on your hips and tug you until you get the hint and shuffle forward until you’re almost seated over his chin.

“You smell good,” he says with a deep inhale. He stretches his neck out and presses an open kiss to your clit, making sure to suck as he pulls away, bringing moisture with him. He licks his lips clean before doing it again and again until you’re shaking and have to brace yourself by leaning forward on your hands.

Finally, he pushes down on your hips, motioning you to sit on his face properly. The moment that you do, the flat of his tongue comes out to collect the dew and undulate against you in broad strokes. When he reaches your entrance he dips in shallowly, collecting more of your arousal, and then repeating. During the first few swipes of his tongue, you try to be courteous of his neck and face, try not to overwhelm him. But once he starts slurping obscenely, your hips move on their own accord. You grind yourself sinuously on his tongue, moaning without any restriction.

When he adds a thumb into the mix, rubbing at your clit, so he can attempt to fuck into you with his tongue. Your head drops forward and you notice that Namjoon is still wearing all of his clothes. You decide this won’t do and put your weight on one hand so you can undo his trousers with the other. It’s a little fumbly and it takes a few tries, but you manage to not only loosen his pants but also push them and his underwear down far enough that his erection can swing forward. You swipe away at clouds of his life force that are happily bumbling around your hand and stroke the length of his shaft. He’s not expecting the sudden touch and jumps, bumping you a little bit.

You spit into your palm before going back into to stroke him in earnest. Its doesn’t take long for your arm to get tired trying to jerk him off from your far away position. You try to inch forward without moving out reach of his mouth.

“Why are you moving away,” he mumbles against your inner thigh.

You don’t answer at first, so he sucks a teasing hickey on the sensitive skin there, causing you to nearly topple over face-first onto his lower stomach.

“You’ll see why. Just be patient.”

Soon you’re hovering over his pelvis and readjust your lower body so that you’re still positioned over Namjoon’s mouth. He tries to peer up curiously but the feeling of your mouth engulfing him instantly clues him in to what you’re doing.

“Fuck,” he groans at the feeling of you bobbing the warm, wetness of your mouth over his length.

The tip of your tongue nudges at his slit and his eyes roll into the back of his head. Before he gets too caught up in the feeling of you caressing the bottom part of his slick shaft, he returns to your center. He starts licking back into you with a vengeance, almost like he’s competing with you. His head moves up and down with the added force his lips parting your petal-soft folds. Your clit is still trapped in the loop of constant figure eights that he skates over the nub. You whine around him and the vibrations wring a moan out of him.

He senses that you’re losing the battle with your orgasm. The way your thigh’s tremble on either side of his head clues him in as well. He pulls back briefly and you hum around him from above.

“Ride my face,” is all he says before gripping your thighs and pressing you tightly against him. He flexes the body of his tongue before shaking his head back and forth against your clit.

The direct stimulation short circuits your brain and you nearly forget to keep jerking him off while the quakes of your high take over your body. Short, choked breaths leave you as you climax, dripping onto his tongue and the lower half of his face. Part of you bemoans the fact that you won’t see his face when he cums, so you soldier on as best you can and redouble your efforts to make him feel good as well.

Almost like a feedback mechanism, your indecent thoughts coupled with the actual onslaught of your mouth have him giving you all he still can until you sneak up on him with a well-timed deep swallow as he thrusts up into your throat and just the right amount of pressure near his perineum. His body goes rigid as he spills into your mouth, and you bob your head to milk him of every last drop. Even after muscles in his thighs stop rippling, you suckle lightly at the tip to clean him up, and he squirms under you out of sensitivity. “Please don’t touch the human remains,” he drones with closed eyes, feigning death by blowjob.

“Oh, stop it,” you drum your fingers against his abdomen. “You’re not even human.”

“Not completely.”

“At least you’re not dead.”

“No, I think I am. I think you swallowed my soul.”

“Well, if you’re really dead, can I borrow your toes?”

#btssmutclub #bangtan bookclub #networkbangtan #bscproject #btswriters #bttnetwork #hyunglinenetwork #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfction #bangtan fanfic #bangtan scenarios #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #kim namjoon

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shadowsnlace · 6 years

Note

I’m sorry I’m thirsty rn~. May I have some Shunsui NSFW and SFW?

Thirsty you say? Let me get you a nice warm cup of Shunsui… ;)

* It’s no secret that Shunsui loves to take naps. If you have a hobby like reading, writing, art, or music he’ll want you to join him under a shady tree while he naps. His hand will absently draw patterns on any of your exposed skin within reach. His need to touch you is an unconscious reflex. He’ll be snoring but those fingers will still be slowly moving in that pattern. (The more sake he’s consumed, the louder he snores.)

* When you first began spending a lot of time at his house, you were shocked at the state of his kitchen. It was a ghost town. He owned one teapot and four mis-matched cups (none of them matched the teapot). You still call it the “stray dog” tea set. He owned one pot to cook in, not that he ever cooked. That pot had only ever been used to trap spiders and once when there was a leak in the roof. He has exactly four plates, four bowls, and four sets of chopsticks. Those are thanks to Nanao, but he only uses one at a time, two or three if Jushiro and Nanao join him for some take-out. However, he’s got about two dozen sake cups. They get left all over the house (inside and out), so he probably owns more they’re just all randomly scattered in odd places. Now that you have moved in, the kitchen is finally kitted out and Shunsui is getting cooking lessons. He pays absolutely no attention to your lessons and spends his time getting his hands into your soft places while dropping random smooches. He’s gotten a spatula rapped on his knuckles more than once for getting too handsy while you’re handling hot pans. He always looks stricken and pouts, but a minute later, he’s right back to sampling everything – the food, the wine, you…However, once the food hits the table, he showers you with compliments on your culinary skills and eats heartily.

* The man loves games. Evenings are spent playing games with you and Jushiro and sometimes other friends who like to visit. When it’s just the two of you, you always spice things you by making some sexy bets. Shunsui loves when there are stakes. For him, no matter who wins, he is always the real winner because the night is going to end with you both naked and making love.

* Shunsui knows he’s impressive once all his clothes are off. He knows how much you like getting your hands and mouth on him. He’s content to lay back and let you do whatever you want. He’ll lay there with his hands tucked behind his head and watch you with glittering eyes. Take your time, he loves a slow build. Pay attention to all the places that don’t get touched too often…rub his feet, massage his legs, graze your nails along his inner thighs. You’ll see his balls draw up and nearly disappear – he’ll squirm. Soothe him by kissing your way up from his knees. He’ll anticipate your mouth on his cock – skip it, kiss the flat of his stomach, run your tongue along the well-defined “V” of his pelvic muscles. His cock will be bumping against you as he twitches and throbs. Once you finally suck him into your mouth, he’ll hiss and reach for you. His fingers brush at your hair, his thumb will stroke your cheek affectionately, “You’re so good to me.” Focus on the tip, he’s way too big to even try to deep throat. Gagging is a turn off for him, it jars him out the pleasure. If you really want to treat him, use a little bit of edible lube on your hands to slide against where your mouth can’t reach. He’ll jerk toward you and look a bit surprised at the sensation. Heavy breaths and soft moans will fill the room. His hands will be busy on you – your hair, any part of your body he can reach. When he cums, he’ll be completely lost, head thrown back, neck muscles bunching and straining as he groans loud and long.

* Next, he will spend a long time lavishing your body with touches and kisses. He’s got plenty of time to recover from the love you just showered him with so he’s going to make sure you get just as much from him, if not, more. He’ll start with deep kisses then work his way down your neck to your chest. He likes spending time teasing your nipples to the point where you are arching off the bed and whining, “Shunsui, please, I can’t take anymore!” He’ll chuckle and move lower, slowly kissing a trail to where you want him most. And he’ll make you wait for just a bit longer until you growl in frustration. Another chuckle will rumble as he nudges between your thighs, settling in. His eyes will fixate on your lovely lady bits, “Ah, sweetheart, you’re such a beautiful flower in bloom.” He’ll kiss your lips then run his tongue up your slit, “And your petals hold the sweetest dew.” His fingers will spread you so he can work his tongue and lips over your folds and clit. Again, he likes a slow build and you’ll be slowly licked and fingered through a mind-bending orgasm.

* Shunsui will always wait for you to open your eyes after an orgasm before he slides into you. He wants to see the look on your face when he fills you. You’ll cling to him, dwarfed by his broad shoulders and chest, thick biceps curling as he gathers you to him. The moment your lips part on a gasp, he sweeps in with a deep kiss that nearly steals your breath. Slow and steady he retreats and returns, the thick length of him stroking every sweet spot you possess. Moans and broken phrases spill from your lips as he turns over and gravity helps you take him even deeper. He’ll watch your every movement, every facial expression. When he can’t hold out anymore, he’ll sit up and pull you tightly against him. The pace becomes faster, almost desperate as he uses his physical strength to lift and move you as if you were feather-light. What started as slow and sensual finishes in a gasping, grunting, groaning frenzy for both of you.

* Afterwards, you’ll both relax in a hot bath. Shunsui will have a bottle of sake next to the tub and one of his many cups on hand to share with you. He likes to wash you with his hands and loves it when you wash him with yours. It’s all slick, soapy fun. He’ll have you lay back on his chest and enjoy the warmth of the bath. You both talk about your day, about the book you just read, about anything that crosses your minds. More than once you’ve both stayed in the water until it began to get chilly. After the bath, it’s straight to bed. Shunsui can drop off to sleep so fast, he’s practically asleep by the time you curl up in his arms. He’ll tuck you against him and rumble in your ear, “I love you.” When he hears you say it back, he’ll sigh contentedly and fall asleep. You always watch him sleep for just a little while, thinking that you can’t believe this amazing man is all yours.

#Bleach #bleach headcannons #Shunsui Kyoraku #SFW #starjj21 #5 19 2018

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lokidiabolus · 7 years

Text

Husbands - part 4

Last part, ayyy!

Ao3 version.

Thomas would have expected it if he wasn’t so with his head in the clouds. But his rational part knew his family was going to be perched in the living room like vultures expecting a prey, so when he entered from seeing Newt out, their expectant looks didn’t really come as a surprise.

“What?” he stopped in between the door and Ava raised a glass with white wine towards him and smiled. “Nothing happened.”

“It better not,” she flashed him faked glare. “I believe today’s kitchen fiasco taught you well.”

“I wouldn’t really call it a fiasco,” he mumbled and finally forced his body to move from the entrance. He was already missing Newt in a weird, expectant way, and he wasn’t sure if it was the physical aspect his body craved, apparently, or if only his presence would help. His head was hazy now anyway and he didn’t know what to think about it – except that he liked Newt touching him and he wouldn’t mind to continue.

It probably didn’t make him an admirable person though.

Teresa looked like she wanted to ask him something as well, but he just took his phone from the couch and retreated to his room without giving them a reason, except of a vague wave in their direction.

What exactly he wanted from Newt? What did it make him when he asked for a kiss without even trying to remember why? Was it an instinct from his sub consciousness that wanted to be close?

Thomas [21:31] What would you think of me if I told you I already miss you?

Newt [21:32] How sweet. Did Ava give you an earful again?

Thomas [21:33] Not really. I’m miserable all by myself.

Newt [21:34] Get some wine, it helps :)

Thomas [21:35] Come get some wine with me then.

Newt [21:36] Hoo boy, one kiss and you’re already like this? You’re breaking a record here.

Thomas [21:37] Was I not like this before?

Newt [21:38] Not right away, not really.

Thomas [21:39] So how long did it take?

Newt [21:41] Hmm. Few months?

“Few months,” Thomas repeated, reading the text while curled in his bed. He wondered how it went – was it Thomas who pursued Newt or the other way around? Where was their first date? First kiss? What was the sex like? Who proposed? No matter how hard he was trying to concentrate, nothing really came.

Except of the kiss today. The kiss and then the place on Newt’s neck – which Thomas knew, he knew it was the weak spot, that Newt liked it. It wasn’t a blind shot and it felt familiar – the whole thing about him was familiar, the closeness, the warmth, how his lips felt and how nice kissing him was. And somehow it wasn’t enough and Thomas couldn’t tell if it meant he just wanted sex or if he wanted a lot more and it connected to the memories locked somewhere deep in his brain.

Thomas [21:47] What are you doing rn?

Newt [21:48] Just got home. Listening to messages on the voice machine and making tea. Is this supposed to be sexting?

Thomas [21:49] You want it to be?

Newt [21:51] Not really :P I prefer the real thing.

Thomas [21:52] I prefer the real thing too.

Newt [21:53] Oh cool, we have so much in common.

“Sassy,” he chuckled and browsed into the photo gallery once more, sweeping through happy couple photos like it could give him an answer. What was Newt doing home alone? Was he breaking the mugs when got too sad? Too lonely? Was it difficult for him? It must have been, judging from the conversations they had.

Thomas didn’t look through the whole flat before. Did they have one bed? Was it big or small? How they usually slept? Was Newt a cuddly type? He looked like one. Thomas could almost tell how his body would fit in his arms, how spooning would go, how he would kiss the back of Newt’s neck before burying his face there, breathing deeply, falling asleep.

Thomas [22:01] I want to see you.

Newt [22:02] You just saw me.

Thomas [22:03] I want to see you again.

Newt [22:05] Just get some sleep, Tommy. I put too much pressure on you, I’m sorry.

Thomas [22:07] You didn’t. But I still miss you and it’s a little scary.

Newt [22:11] I’m sorry. Get some sleep, okay?

Thomas closed his eyes and thought that maybe it was time not to be scared anymore.

***

“Oh no.”

“Well, that’s not how I pictured you greeting me, but okay, I can work with that,” Thomas decided to keep a neutral expression even though Newt was standing between the doors with wide eyes and in Black Sabbath shirt and bare legs, and there wasn’t much oh man, happy to see you around as he hoped it would. It was almost midnight and Thomas was pretty sure his family was going to freak out once they find out he sneaked out in the middle of the night, but he couldn’t stop himself once the thought planted and took root in his head.

“What are you doing here?” Newt still stared, his hair sticking in all directions and Thomas felt rather bad for apparently waking him up.

“Well.”

“Come in, jesus,” a pull on his wrist dragged him inside of the flat, despite the unwelcomed guest label he got, and this time there were no shards on the floor and it looked relatively tidy too. “It’s midnight!”

“Not yet,” Thomas opposed lamely, pointing out those 4 minutes that kept on ticking. Newt looked unimpressed and okay, this was probably bad idea. “Oh man. Sorry, I didn’t really think you’d be angry about it. I even woke you up-,”

“Yeah, don’t fret about it,” Newt stopped him with a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes. “Why are you here?”

“I told you.”

“You told me what?”

“That I wanted to see you,” Thomas supplied and cleared his throat when Newt’s eyes narrowed. “Sorry.”

“You’re really testing me right now,” the blond grumbled, although it looked like it was more to him than to Thomas. He didn’t even look sleepy anymore, just dishevelled and kind of frantic, and when he started pacing, Thomas had a revelation.

“It’s my shirt,” he blurted out, stopping any movement from Newt’s side.

“What?”

“The shirt you have,” he pointed at the Black Sabbath logo. “It’s mine.”

Newt looked taken back for a second, almost guilty, but seriously, there was no reason for it. Thomas knew – he remembered buying the shirt in England in a small music shop when he was there for a visit. A visit… was he there to see Newt? That part was still blurry.

“It is yours,” Newt finally replied, gently touching a hem of it. It was kind of old now, the black wasn’t really black anymore but really dark grey, but Thomas still felt attached to it. And now Newt wore it and it was making him feel things he never felt before. “It makes me feel better to wear your shirts to sleep… I guess.”

“Which is fine,” Thomas quickly added because Newt’s face looked sad again, and apologetic and Thomas didn’t want him to feel bad about absolutely normal and kind of sweet thing to do. “I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like a boyfriend shirt kind of thing,” he pointed out with an embarrassed laugh, because it was so stupid to think this possessively about a piece of cloth and a lover in it, but he still really, really fancied it.

“Well, husband, more like,” Newt chuckled and his tenseness eased away again, slowly melting into oblivion. Thomas wanted to hug him so much, but it was midnight, he came here uninvited and it probably breached some borders Newt had.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call before, or something,” he fidgeted awkwardly on the spot. “I didn’t really think what I was doing.”

He expected an earful, but Newt smiled sweetly instead and Thomas thought it brightened the whole room. When the blond started walking towards him, he had to take deep breath to keep calm, until Newt reached him and they clicked together in a perfect whole body hug, which he accepted with a relieved sigh.

“That’s pretty much what you always do,” Newt whispered to his ear. “You hot-headed husband of mine.”

Thomas squeezed him tighter and kissed the top of his head. He still didn’t really remember all the important things, but he was so damn satisfied now he didn’t really care.

***

“It was in college. We had several classes together. You were dating this one girl for the first year.”

“What girl?” Thomas asked sleepily, his arms curled around Newt’s midsection as they faced each other in bed. Their bed. Not even that big for two people, yet they apparently preferred it that way. At least Thomas surely did now. They were lying next to each other, holding hands with intertwined fingers, and in the dim light of the street lights it was almost like deja vu.

“I don’t remember her name,” Newt yawned, his eyes half-lidded. “You broke up at some point. Then we started talking more. You asked me out.”

“Oh, so I did?” Thomas smiled softly and Newt chuckled. He looked comfortable and happy there, and Thomas decided coming here at midnight was good idea in the end.

“Yeah. We met few times like that, then started dating,” another yawn that interrupted Newt’s reminiscing. “Then we finished college. Got jobs. Decided to live together here. And then we got married.”

“Well, I like that,” Thomas commented and pulled Newt a little closer to his body. It felt natural like breathing and Newt went without hesitation. “And I like you.”

“You bloody should,” he heard Newt mumble into his shirt, his words almost slurred together. “We’re married.”

“Yeah,” Thomas petted him gently and stopped talking. Soft, evened breathing followed mere seconds after as Newt fell asleep, his face burrowed in Thomas’ shirt. Thomas took a deep breath and his chest ached sweetly, almost unbearably so. “And I love that too.”

***

It was warm and pleasant and it smelled like home, like Newt curled in his arms on lazy Saturday morning. Thomas breathed out the familiarity and without opening his eyes planted a gentle kiss on the back of Newt’s neck. Blond hair tickled him, but he didn’t care and snuggled closer while pampering the naked skin with small pecks as far as he could reach without moving.

“Mmm,” he felt Newt stir and Thomas’ hand immediately found the waistband of Newt’s underwear, slipping under it. Newt raised his hips, let Thomas pull the garment down and then pushed his body back to him, drawing soft moan out of him by the motion.

“Lively in the morning, huh,” he heard Newt saying in a low, sleepy tone, and it made him smile and finally open his eyes, appreciating the sweet contour of Newt’s body, his graceful neck and the line of his shoulder, down to his arm and delicate waist. He rose on an elbow and gently nudged Newt to turn towards him so he could kiss his neck some more and continue on the collarbones. There he stopped abruptly, blinked and sat up with wide eyes. Newt stared back at him with similar expression, but probably with more questions, until Thomas barked out a laugh and dived back in, plopping over his husband without grace.

“What!” Newt squeaked under the weight, but he always did, because Thomas had no borders, and he never had them and never will have and everything was wonderful. He started pushing the shirt out of the way, his damn shirt he bought in the music shop because Newt liked it on him, because he liked Newt liked it and because he was there visiting him in England to meet his parents, and there was nothing more magical than remembering all of that.

“Tommy!” There were squeaks of protest coming from the blond, but he managed to strip him anyway and then kiss him fully on the lips like starving, and Newt went completely boneless in his arms, because he liked kissing – he loved it so much Thomas used it as a bribing tactics or please don’t be mad at me anymore tactics.

“You’re amazing,” he said between kisses, not letting Newt to speak, even though the blond really tried. “Amazing and so strong.” Another deep kiss that made Newt moan into it and his hips bucked up, and yes, yes, it was exactly the right kind of morning they needed both. “So damn strong, Newt, love of my life.”

There was a shudder and Newt was panting, his eyes glazed when they parted and Thomas could die happy at that moment, because this was the best way to go.

“What the-,” the blond gasped, his body was still trembling slightly. “I-,”

“Just for the record, you asked me out,” Thomas grinned at that lovable, flushed face. “Thought you could trick me, huh.”

When Newt finally caught his breath, tears rolled out of his eyes before he could even get out the first words, a sob followed and then Thomas was crushed in a tight embrace.

***

“So like… you banged and that made you remember?”

“No, are you an idiot?” Thomas glared at Aris over the table filled with pastries and his brother only shrugged. “We banged after.”

“Dude,” Aris rolled his eyes and Teresa next to them snorted she almost spilled her coffee. It was almost surprising Ava didn’t give him a speech for it, but Thomas considered it her goodwill of him regaining the last part of his memories, even though she freaked out first because he sneaked out of the house in the middle of the night, as he thought she would. Even more so when she called him in the morning and he didn’t pick up because he was kind of busy with Newt anyway.

“Did he cry?” Teresa asked next, because naturally she would ask that to have some embarrassing ammo if anything.

“Well, he cried my name several times-,”

“Thomas,” Ava finally snapped at him and when he opened his mouth, she stuffed a muffin in to shut him up. He thought her celebration breakfast was ridiculous, since nothing that great happened, but he had to admit being able to remember Newt properly again was pretty much the only thing on his mind now anyway, so maybe they all deserved a small treat for handling him during the dark times.

No matter how yummy it was, he couldn’t wait to get home and feed Newt the whipped cream though. Preferably naked and having his husband all for himself.

#tmr #the maze runner #prompts #newtmas #husbands #part 4

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caepaecaesurae · 8 years

Text

> Last week sometime...

caepaecaesurae ... I apologize for the #tyrian/ tag, by the by. My moirail has trouble wvith your alternates, that he is still wvorking through. brackishbarracuda so i noticed i didnt mean to start shit caepaecaesurae You havwen't, and he holds no animosity. Only memories. brackishbarracuda i cant reely say shit tbh w u i used to have the same problem w certain cronus alts i aint gonna go into it but im betta than i was

caepaecaesurae .. There are so vwery many things wvrong wvith certain Cronus alternates. brackishbarracuda an nearly all a mine are fucked so caepaecaesurae I'm glad you're doing better ..and that the entire Ampora line is not currently completely poisoned for you. brackishbarracuda trust me theres a few i could stand to see w a head on a different end a the room than the rest a them but i got double diamonds and both are v much amporas caepaecaesurae There's some that -I- wvould be inclined to separate from themselvwes. brackishbarracuda aight if im bein honest its one in particular and its an erian so i still count that as improvement caepaecaesurae I'd agree. WVas he perchance recently invwolvwed in the dashcourse? brackishbarracuda i dont think so i aint been payin attention i dont mind a name drop if ur currious just dont out me aboat it its complicate complicated efin caepaecaesurae Reasonable. ... I don't speak wvith many Eridans, I suspect it's not likely to come up, so I'll abstain. brackishbarracuda as in dont tell me or u wont out me caepaecaesurae Don't tell me -- I wvouldn't out you either wvay. brackishbarracuda s fair caepaecaesurae But this wvay, I'm not likely to read his page out of curiosity. Or ask a thousand questions that aren't my business. I'm afraid I'm as gossipy as Arlequin can be. brackishbarracuda trust me tho if he shows up and starts shit youll kno who it is caepaecaesurae Do let me knowv if you evwer need a hand. brackishbarracuda pike i said its complicated 38/ and f reel tho i aint mind questions from u in particular caepaecaesurae If you're certain, then -- wvho, and dare I ask his specific failings? brackishbarracuda violaceousvanity too many to fuckin count brackishbarracuda most a which is fuckin w my rails pusher an holdin the fact said rail had feelins for him over my damn head when i was low caepaecaesurae .. Ugh. brackishbarracuda im really tryin naut to go on a tirade aboat every fuckin thing hes done wrong bc i wont stop if i get started its platonic af caepaecaesurae I knowv the feeling. Aye, interference in romantic affairs often can be. brackishbarracuda hes still a part a my rails past tho before i knew him and he swears hes his friend so im over here just shruggin violently brackishbarracuda ur ugh in response was afishiated tho its hard to properly disgusted w somebody existence when other ppl aint as pissed as u are

Last Wednesday at 2:44 PM

caepaecaesurae I sympathise. Interpersonal conflicts of that nature are... Awvkwvard at best. caepaecaesurae Pardon for disappearing on you. brackishbarracuda nah shit happens u aight caepaecaesurae > Caesurae looked at that question, blankly, for over a minute before he could bring himself to quietly facepalm, sigh, and gather his words. Sleep came unexpectedly, that's all. brackishbarracuda count ur blessings i had to watch cats the musical before i could get my wrigs to fall the fuck asleep caepaecaesurae You havwe wvrigglers? I feel like I should havwe knowvn, sorry for the inobservwance. brackishbarracuda i dont talk aboat them much naut publicly anyway brackishbarracuda too much shit can go wrong but yeah i got five a them caepaecaesurae It's easier to protect something no one knowvs about. Gods, that seems daunting. brackishbarracuda i mean they aint mine i kinda inherited them but they mine u feel cept one ones actually mine caepaecaesurae I believwe Arlequin had a fewv sprung on him wvhen it turned out one of his flings came from a timeline wvith interesting biology. He adores havwing a massivwe family for church reasons though. brackishbarracuda yeah caepaecaesurae May I ask about the inheritance? brackishbarracuda bouy seems pike hed b happy just havin em drip off him while he fucks around in the kitchen caepaecaesurae That's fairly accurate, aye. brackishbarracuda dead red caepaecaesurae I'm sorry. brackishbarracuda they didnt really have anybody else me and the rails look after em caepaecaesurae Good that someone or something does. If you havwen't ended up lusus-bonding wvith them yet you might be able to get them lusii in a timeline somewvhere. I suspect you havwe though, by the sound of it. brackishbarracuda loz would raise from his fuckin ashes and haunt my ass if i ever got rid a them especially now brackishbarracuda theyre mine caepaecaesurae I'm glad you care for them. I'm...familiar wvith the concept from Beforus, and from my moirail's family. It's not something I'vwe personally evwer wvanted, but I'm glad it suits you. Are they young, still ? brackishbarracuda it aint someifn i ever personally wanted either tbpfh w u little shits grow on u yeah caepaecaesurae Has Arlequin met them yet? brackishbarracuda ach is the oldest and shes under five sweeps and ayas the youngest and shes in a coon rn i think we planned on it but it aint happened yet brackishbarracuda lotta shit goin on rn caepaecaesurae I suspect he'd enjoy it quite a bit. He adores spoiling wvrigglers. brackishbarracuda yeah i can sea that lmao hes a big cod damn nerd brackishbarracuda hey i got a question caepaecaesurae Aye? Fire at wvill. brackishbarracuda do u no anybody youd trust w a needle pike tattoos do u think arlequin would kno anybody in the church oar caepaecaesurae I knowv Porrim has a studio here, though I'd havwe to gently feel out howv she feels about seadwvellers. I'm sure Arlequin knowvs howv to apply tattoos in the old wvay, wvith hand-made tools and ointments rather than wvhat one wvould vwisualise in a modern tattoo parlor. I'm sure Nadaya wvould knowv someone, and could ask, if that wvould be of use. brackishbarracuda idk if i trust his evaluation of i trust u naut to kill me while u do this but yeah if u could ask around so i got options id afishiate it tbh isle still probubbly sea what arlequin can do seein as i already trust him caepaecaesurae Arlequin I wvould trust completely to do blackwvork. If he specifically says he can do brilliant colors and gradients, I'd believwe him on those too. I trust Nadaya not to put other people into stupid situations. He tries plenty of things himself he wvould not consider for others. brackishbarracuda thats fair caepaecaesurae I'll see if I can put together a list for you -- and I'll mention wvho each recommendation came from, as wvell. I'vwe been somewvhat tempted to look into it myself, I just havwen't been able to think of a design I wvanted. At least anything that wvasn't somewvhat trashy. brackishbarracuda hell let it be trashy caepaecaesurae References to the Kraken brackishbarracuda lMAO caepaecaesurae A tramp stamp, if I could bring myself to it brackishbarracuda PLZ I N-E-ED T)(IS caepaecaesurae Haha Gods. Maybe. brackishbarracuda oh my shi t absofuckinlutely i am behind this and behind u so i can stare at it caepaecaesurae I appreciate the vwote of confidence. "This side up" brackishbarracuda im la ughign i swear to fuck man embrace that shit caepaecaesurae On the one hand, yes. On the other, if I don't, I can fake being a vwery dignified older man at wvill. And people wvho don't knowv me wvill believwe it. brackishbarracuda i mean thats fair but u can do that w some paint an sealer caepaecaesurae ..Oddly true. Of course, I could put on a vwariety of different tramp stamps at wvill in the same wvay. brackishbarracuda embrace ur inner trash prince caepaecaesurae You are a terrible influence, but I'm almost intrigued enough to put together a selfie. brackishbarracuda i am tho caepaecaesurae This Side Up is the best one I can think of. Maybe a reference to the Gunshowv WVhat are some other good ones, vwisible from the front? I am preparing something. brackishbarracuda suns out guns out has alwaves been a personal fav isle ahab ur crosshairs idfk visual pun put ahabs on ur bicep caepaecaesurae Oh, perfect brackishbarracuda i am all for this please dear cod also ur attractive just fyi caepaecaesurae Thank you, I appreciate that. You as wvell, from the pictures I'vwe seen. brackishbarracuda the reactions ur getting are worth this shit alone caepaecaesurae Oh, aye, I need to do this more often. brackishbarracuda u reely do i almost wanna reblog the dam thing again caepaecaesurae One feature of tumblr that I personally appreciate is the ability to schedule posts to go off at pre-determined times years into the future. brackishbarracuda oh my shit ohhh my shit caepaecaesurae And you look at your dashboard, and you ask yourself "WVhen did I reblog that -- Oh. Ohhhhhhhhh right." brackishbarracuda i am here for this brackishbarracuda plz at least keep the gun caepaecaesurae Hah. I don't knowv. The tiny one? brackishbarracuda yeah i mean its easily hidden w sleeves an its a good ice breaker caepaecaesurae It is at that. If I did, I'd probably ask Arlequin to apply it for real. Things I imagine into place are easy to imagine awvay again. brackishbarracuda i nearly said id imagine so and stopped myself wtf me caepaecaesurae I can imagine it, and I wvouldn't havwe caught it. brackishbarracuda hes doin aight if ur currious thats my rails caepaecaesurae I'm glad he is. brackishbarracuda i get over excited about the bouys so i apologize in advance caepaecaesurae Hah. Both vvic and his brother? Enthusiasm is a blessing, enjoy it. brackishbarracuda yeah f reel tho they aint get out much so im over here wavin a lil flag when they talk to ppl on their own caepaecaesurae I havwe a fewv friends like that. Thankfully theyvwe started getting along wvith one another, wvhich is nice. brackishbarracuda tru tf to that

Last Wednesday at 6:44 PM

brackishbarracuda are u sugestin arlequin is a wrong choice caepaecaesurae No, I just knowv Arlequin wvell and don't knowv if he knowvs him. Arlequin making more positivwe social contacts is good. brackishbarracuda (that was a joke ) tru af tho caepaecaesurae I'm not that great at jokes if the punchline is someone being offended, if I'm honest. brackishbarracuda aight fair caepaecaesurae Sorry, chief. brackishbarracuda nah u aint got anyfin to apologize for

#brackishbarracuda #ooc eyes only #discussion of gossip bad tattoos and kids #trashy tattoo jokes ahoy

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