#thoughts not originating in the shower

[thoughtcascades]

idk how to flirt but i can make things awkward if you're into that

[and-corn]

if there's a condition called impulsive anthropomorphizing then I have it

[x3nshit]

you have to be at least a little delusional in order to lead a happy life

[psychotic-nonsense]

In October of 1967, Steve Harrington is born in Hawkins, Indiana.

He's raised there, forced to live under the strict expectations of his parents, Richard and Samantha. Barely escapes their clutches, freedom fueled by the kids and adults that take the role of guardian and family when the time is right. Keeps himself in check with the always impending apocalypses that arise beneath his feet.

In June of 1985 - when Steve Harrington is 18, while Richard and Samantha Harrington are visiting New York for an extended work trip - Veronica Harrington is born.

She was carried and raised in secret from their hometown. They take care of her between their business hours, dropping her in the hands of nannies and babysitters galore. They don't even think of Indiana during Veronica's early childhood, too focused on work and making sure their daughter starts up right.

In October of 1986 - when Steve Harrington is 19, aged further by ending the Vecna War, yet tamed by his newfound love in Eddie Munson - Richard and Samantha Harrington return to Hawkins.

They don't ask about what happened to their son. They don't ask about the town. They don't ask questions, just give responses to them. Sneering at Steve's friends, complaining about the state of the house, commenting at the disfunctional chaos their home has become.

In November of 1986, Richard and Samantha Harrington disown Steve.

They just let him go. They at least give him a folder of his legal documents, but otherwise just tell him to get out of their house and never use their name again. Claiming Steve doesn't need anything from the room because the Harrington's own everything in it. They don't call him son, they don't say goodbye, they don't acknowledge who's actually taken care of the house, they don't admit most of Steve's former room has changed with money Steve earned himself, they don't dare to give him any money or care where he goes. They just say they're sick of dealing with an unworthy mistake of a child, and force him out of their house.

In November of 1986, the Party's adults adopt Steve.

He runs to them first after everything happens. Held himself together at the start, but broke down the second the words were out. While everyone was trying to comfort Steve, Wayne Munson and Jim Hopper were the first to succeed. They know firsthand that this family would never be the same as blood, no matter how much that blood has boiled and burned before, but the love will be stronger and it will be here. When everyone seconds it, Steve finally accepts it. He becomes a child of the Party - he's everyone's son and everyone's brother, taking whatever surname he sees fit.

In November of 1986, Steve Henderson and Eddie Munson leave Hawkins.

Despite all this good, Steve can't bear to stay in this damned town a second longer, where everyone knows who he is and will soon know everything he isn't. And it's not like Eddie was looking forward to sticking around Hawkins either, especially without his Steve. The kids are the first to agree, surprisingly, and the adults promise to find a way for the boys to get out. Later that week, when Richard and Samantha leave the house to prepare for Veronica, Steve and Eddie break in to take everything that's rightfully theirs. While they're there, not sure what prompts him, Steve makes a bag of his clothes with shoes and his wallet tucked within it, shoving it into his closet. Dustin's mom uses an old favor to get the boys an apartment in Chicago, the Party has one last farewell, and the two boys are gone.

From 1986 onward, Veronica Harrington is raised in Hawkins, Indiana.

Richard and Samantha are adamant in their daughter coming out exactly how she should. They steadily convince the town to forget the Harringtons ever had a son and lock the room on the second floor next to the stairs without ever touching the inside. They raise her with formality and pride at the top of their expectations, wanting at least one child to come out right.

But Veronica is the spitting image of Steve's honesty and care. She puts on a facade when needed, but even at a young age, she wants nothing more than to be someone's light in the darkness. She plays with every lonely kid at school, and tries to make people laugh at the business parties she's dragged to. It's not received well by her parents, but Veronica is much too strong willed and stubborn to let it phase her.

In April of 1991 - when she's 6 and they're so much stronger around their hearts - Veronica Harrington meets Steve and Eddie Munson for the first time.

It's the year Erica is set to graduate high school. Steve and Eddie have been making the drive for every holiday this year, ordered determined to give her the best senior year she could have. It's Easter Sunday, and Wayne somehow managed to drag his boys away to church - a Munson custom, as even Eddie insisted they go.

While at the snack table post sermon, a little girl comes up to Steve, mistaking him for her father. He and Eddie gently comfort the girl, introducing themselves and offering to help the girl find her parents. That's when Veronica introduces herself, striking Steve deep in his heart. Still, he keeps quiet, even gifting her a little origami crane made from napkins at the table. He calls her "chickpea" for the color of her dress, tells her to keep the crane secret and safe, "If ever you need to find your way back home, you hold that close, and it'll tell you."

Meanwhile, Wayne has come across Richard and Samantha in the crowd opposite the kids. Exchanging formalities, Wayne mentions his son and nephew are in town, news the Harrington's are surprised at, as Wayne didn't seem like the father type. However, trying to keep face, they remain civil and insist on introducing their daughter.

Cue Veronica running to her parents with Steve and Eddie in tow. Cue Steve calling Wayne dad right to Richard's face. Cue the Harrington's immediate leave from the church, Veronica waving behind her with a crane placed carefully in her pocket.

From then on, Veronica Harrington's life changes indefinitely.

Her parents' expectations grow tenfold. She finds out she's horribly allergic to chickpeas. All of her friends must be approved by her parents, and any that don't fit their image are ordered to leave her.

Veronica takes these changes in stride - is her class's top student, captain of the softball and volleyball teams in junior high, keeps the friends she wants in secret from her parents - but she can't help but keep the crane in a little box in her room. Gets a necklace with a little origami crane pendant, holds it whenever she needs to make a hard choice. Can't help but expand herself in secret, learn things her parents would never approve of - lock picking, other languages, sleight of hand, a clothing style that's nothing like the dark blues of her family, all warmth and light. She explores every room in her house, yet is unable to find her way into that room upstairs next to the steps.

In May of 1998, Veronica Harrington discovers the truth about her brother.

She's about to be a freshman. Her class was touring the high school in preparation, and while passing the athletics hall, her eyes hit the swimming trophies. Each row stuffed with trophies, and each one with a name that stabbed her right in the stomach: Steve Harrington.

After that, she couldn't bear all the secrecy anymore. Late that same night, she finally uses her lock picking skills to break into that room. And though it's devoid of life, it is a bedroom, so evidently lived in. It's frozen in time, twisted sheets covered in dust, old papers crinkled from being stepped on but not picked up, old clean clothes still sitting in the hamper. It's a boy's room, clearly, and Veronica is careful walking around this place of memories.

She does still explore, quietly clicking on lights around the room, too cautious to touch the overhead lights. She looks under the bed, finding a bat and a trash can lid, both embedded with rusty nails. A shirt that still smells like fresh laundry yet has a back stained permanently with long red lines down the shoulders. Dozens of stapled documents labeled NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT, detailing horrific events that each have that same name signed at the bottom.

With shaking hands she checks the closet, and finds it mostly empty. All except for a deep green graduation robe and cap, a cream Hawkins High letterman, and a duffel bag hidden in the back corner. The cap has a 1985 tassel, and the letterman has Harrington branded on the back with basketball and swimming patches galore. And the bag, when she checks it, looks like a survivalist pack someone would make in an apocalypse. At the top sits a wallet, and inside is an ID for a Steve Harrington, who has the same face as the one in her origami memories.

And Veronica is done. She wakes up the next morning and throws Steve's jacket on the kitchen table, startling both her parents mid sip of coffee. She finds herself in a screaming match with her father, demanding them to quit lying to her, begging to know who her brother is.

In a fit of rage, Richard tells her. Tells her everything Richard and Samantha never saw in Steve, about Veronica's secret birth, the disownment, Steve's disappearance from the Harrington house and Hawkins. She's reminded of that one Easter Sunday, and is told how Richard and Samantha faked Veronica's allergy to keep her mind from being tainted by whatever curse befell their bloodline before. Orders her to never say that name again.

In a fit of rage, Veronica bites back. Calls her parents cruel and overly expectant. Comes clean about her secret freedom. Says she'd rather be nothing than ever carry the burden of the Harrington name ever again.

She hides away in her room after the fight. Cries in her closet with her origami box cradled tightly to her chest, begging it to take her home because this place isn't anymore, maybe never was. Cries for the brother she never even got to meet, who went through so many horrible things yet still got put through this same punishment. Cries for the future she won't get to have, losing her hope for a new beginning that will now never be.

At the start of June, 1998, Veronica runs away.

She makes it through the rest of May in near silence. She writes notes for all of her friends at the end of the school year, and one for her parents to inevitably find. Finds 75 dollars in Steve's old wallet, stuffs the duffel bag the rest of the way with her belongings, and says goodbye to Hawkins.

She takes the first bus she can find out of town. Doesn't care that it's going to Chicago, doesn't really care where she's going now. She befriends an old homeless man riding the bus as well, becomes another interesting name in his "Book of Wanders (Pronounced as Wonders)." As Veronica's telling the story about unknowingly meeting her brother, she remembers the crane in her bag. She reaches in to retrieve the little box, then the crane, nearly crying seeing how disheveled and unfolded it is. Broken and doomed, just like her. But looking at it now after so long, she thinks she sees something written inside it. Despite it shattering her heart pieces, she carefully unfolds the little crane.

At its center, in old, bleeding blue text, reads, "Find the Swooping Bat if you've lost your way."

The old man laughs then, taking Veronica's hand and placing it onto her chest, over her heart. "It's fate," he whispers in the dark bus. "There's a place called that in Chicago."

Veronica uses her money to rent them both a hotel for the night, giving the old man a warm bath for the first time in weeks. She gifts him the clothes as well, saying it's, "an honorary thanks from my brother, for helping me get here." They bid each other farewell in the morning, the old man telling her to keep hold of fate.

She finds her way to the Swooping Bat easily, hand on her necklace guiding her way. It's a quaint little diner, popular enough to be comfortably warm when she walks in. A young lady in a wheelchair - Max, says her nametag, with pins saying things like, "Summer work blows" and "USC grad or bust!" resting on her collar - guides her to a booth next to the sunrise.

"Anything I can get you today?" Max asks when Veronica's seated.

Veronica's fully ready to order everything on the menu, what with how delicious this place smells, but then she remembers her funds. 5 bucks, if she's lucky. "Just a chocolate milk, for now. Biggest one you have, please." She somehow plays off Max's skeptical look, her eyes sweeping over Veronica's no doubt disheveled and no-food-in-36-hours appearance.

It somehow works out, and Max is wheeling away. Veronica allows herself a moment to collapse, stomach growling in pain and eyes burning with the realization she has no idea what she's going to do now. She just has this last bit of hope to hold onto, and without it, she'll be nothing but a husk.

She's not sure how long she sits there, staring at the sunrise and letting sound and AC whisk her mind away, but there's suddenly a little knock on her table. Her head snaps up, and there's Max again, setting down a giant glass of chocolate milk... alongside a loaded breakfast plate.

"It's on the house," Max rushes to explain, all fondness when Veronica scrambles to get her wallet. "Courtesy of the owner. And between you and me," she whispers with a wink, "just take the damn food, kid."

Veronica stumbles over herself for a moment, rendered near speechless, before she finally comes back. She begs Max to thank the owner profusely, before rushing to dig into the pancakes before her. She's halfway done dousing the stack in syrup by the time Max wheels away, when there's suddenly someone laughing.

"Of course," says a choked-up voice behind her. "Can't have any chickpeas starving in my booths."

Veronica nearly drops her fork. She turns so sharply she gets dizzy. Seven years can't change a person that much, surely, because though he's bigger in the torso and he has glasses on the bridge of his nose and his hair is cut so close, he still has the same softness in his voice and the same slouch in his stance and the same moles around his eyes and his smile is so bright despite the tears in his eyes, and though Veronica can barely see through tears herself, it's not like she needs them anyway to know it's-

"Steve!" she cries, scrambling out of the booth to meet her brother halfway. The relief of it all working out has the rest of her restraint collapsing, forcing harsh sobs out of her and into Steve's shoulder. The siblings hold each other in the middle of a restaurant, a voice in the background asking everyone to leave them be. Steve doesn't stop whispering, even as his chest heaves with broken gasps between tears, "You're save, Veronica, I got you, I got you, it's gonna be okay, you're safe here, it's okay, sis, it's okay..."

"That you, lil' chickpea?" whispers a different voice once they've calmed down. Veronica reluctantly pulls away and finds a man kneeling beside them, a hand on Steve's shoulder and similar tears in his eyes. His hair and tattoos remind her of the tamed wild from seven years ago, covered in black in the middle of church yet glowing brighter than the stained glass, the one that Steve looks at in past and present with a glowing love Veronica never saw between her parents.

"Yeah," she whispers, wiping her tears away before placing a hand atop her necklace. It catches Eddie and Steve's eyes and make them beam with pride and relief. "Yeah, it's... it's me...."

[beneathsilverstars]

been thinking about the differences between SASASAP and ISAT lately. because looking just at ISAT and the two hats ending, you'd think loop went through the exact same house as our siffrin, but looking at SASASAP, it's different. it's mixed up. it's obviously a condensed prototype.

but. that doesn't have to mean it's a different universe entirely.

maybe that's just what happens after a thousand loops.

the house warped in act 5. siffrin lost their shit and the house got changed and corrupted, far past its baseline king uncanniness. so it wouldn't be too out-of-the-question for it to be able to warp in more subtle ways as well, due to a more subtle breakdown.

like a jpeg uploaded and downloaded a thousand times, siffrin changed, and the loops changed. over a thousand loops of efficiency, the house got more efficient. rooms combining. items moving. data compressing. and of course, run in a changed house, the script changed as well. it did so slowly, one bit at a time, over a thousand loops of zoned-out half-listening – and by the time siffrin would have noticed each difference, they were already used to it. (and in the moments that they did look at a room that was less familiar than it should be and realize that they had no idea where to find the key, well. that's just classic siffrin, isn't it.)

through sheer repetition, siffrin was corrupted, and the loops and the house along with them. all purpose lost, all signals distorted, until finally they couldn't recognize the meaning in any of it. it was all noise and despair.

so they made a wish. and the loop restarted. not just a reboot, but something more complete.

the data was backed up onto a star – a guide, a warning, a reference – and the loops were factory reset. and for the first time in a thousand loops, siffrin woke up to a clear mind and the crisp sound of birdsong.

[sysig]

You're still standing off to the side. Somehow, center stage has shifted from under your feet without you realizing, and you're standing in the wings, performing to no one.

Starring Role (Patreon)

[baeshijima]

mmm thoughts of private executioner!blade, who is high priestess!kafka's bodyguard. well, more like her guard dog, as many fearfully seem to think.

he is aloof and gruff and rough around the edges, his name capturing it perfectly. when in the eyes of the public he either keeps to himself or stands ready by kafka's side, but when out he lurks in the shadows ready and waiting to carry out her death orders.

you, yourself, haven't had very many pleasant encounters with him... if you can even call them that. that being said, you haven't had many pleasant encounters with anyone. notorious for your... less than pleasant disposition, for a lack of better words, you have more people who'd rather see you run through than those you can call a friend.

in a dog-eat-dog world, you had no choice but to protect yourself. that, however, ultimately became your demise.

"oh? so you're the one sent to kill me. can't say i'm all that surprised."

standing before you is the feared executioner. his sword is tucked inside the sheath attached to his hip, that ever-present dark swirl of an aura stifling the air. he doesn't say anything, instead opting to silently stare down at your slumped and worn-out form. you find that his gaze doesn't bother you; rather, it's oddly comforting knowing someone will see you in your last moments.

"i've never asked you for a favour before, so this will be my first and last request for you." in all honesty, you're not sure where this chattiness stems from. considering you're currently in a holding cell under the crime of attempted murder towards kafka (a poisoned wine you were most definitely framed for, though you can't say you were surprised) and are awaiting for your turn to be under the guillotine for your public execution, you probably should be a little desperate towards the private executioner in front of you.

and yet, your mind is nothing if not peaceful.

with a huff, you relay your request, "can you make sure it's quick? painless, preferably, but i'd rather you just get it over and done with."

silence blankets the cold chambers. moisture accumulated along the cobble ceiling drip in a steady rhythm, like a clock ticking away the seconds. it's unnerving, almost, how there is not a single sound other than your impending countdown.

"why?" comes his low mutter, effectively causing a ripple within the stagnant air. you almost think you misheard him, but his following words cease the thought, "why won't you ask me for help?"

had it not been for the abrupt shuffle and clanging against the metal bars, you would have never looked up to see him in your last moments.

his scarred hands gripping the metal until his knuckles turn a ghastly white and blood dripping from his palms is what greets your sight. as your gaze slowly trails up, you almost let loose a laugh of disbelief; who would have thought blade, the infamous guard dog of the high priestess, could make such a desperate expression? one looking as though his whole world crumbled before him, in which he can do nothing but sit and watch.

(you will never know of the anger and desperation which coursed through his veins the moment he heard of your predicament. had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared. but you're not anyone else; you're you — unapologetically, wholeheartedly. it didn't take him long to hunt down those behind it, cutting them down without thought and putting an end to their miserable lives. he rushed as soon as he could when kafka gave him the order, no thoughts other than you, you, you, occupying his mind.

you will never know of the anguish which overcame him when he found you in such a state, your once healthy complexion and defiant gaze reduced to nothing but a tiredness which had always sat quietly behind your disposition. he's almost positive the muscle which unwillingly keeps him alive tore at the seams from your request, the acceptance in which you displayed causing his mind to go astray. even as he damn-near begs you to rely on him for help — to run away with him to some place no one knows of you and start anew there — you merely smile, resigned and peaceful.

you will never know of how much blade is willing to put on the line for you, for you never made it to see the complete and utter carnage he wrecked in your name.)

[sunkissed-summerdaze]

Honestly,

I think about you too much. First thing in the morning, when the sun is fixated on waking me up from the dreams I have you. During the day, when I have nothing better to do, I daydream of you next to me. When I see something I think you’d like I drift off into thoughts of you. At night, when I’m winding down and wishing I was in someone’s arms… your arms.

It’s you… it’s always you.

And late at night, when I can’t sleep and the world is silent, I can’t help but wonder if you’re thinking of me too…

But only in my imaginary world is this real… you actually thinking of me… and you… together as one.

Silly me, there I go again dreaming of you…

Yours truly,

-E.S.

[enjisbf]

69 with Enji Todoroki

° Pairing: Enji Todoroki x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k words

summary: Enji finally comes home after being away, and the both of you figure out how to 69 with the height difference. Also, reader has a quirk that gives her bunny attributes (ears and tail + behaviour)

warnings: nsfw (duh), lots of pet names, oral (m+f receiving), cockdrunk reader, pussywhipped enji, fingering (fem receiving), praises, one (1) pussy pronoun, spit kink (blink and you'll miss it) and fluff at the end :3 (if i missed anything, pls tell me!)

author's note: Hi, cowpals! So, I've had this idea since yesterday morning and decided to bring it to life !! This is very much inspired by this fic by @/mybvalentine (read it if you're into Miguel because fuck it is so so so good ???) Also, this was the first time I wrote smut and english isn't my first language, so any mispells or mistakes left are my fault ;-; (tried to proofread it to the best of my abilities, but I kind of just want to post this)

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅─

Enji is a big man, in every way. He towers over you, takes up space no matter the place, his big arms are your safest place and his cock... Fuck, you just loved everything about his cock. The taste of it, the heaviness as it sits in your mouth, in between your legs. How hot it was. Just thinking about your man made you clench your thighs and your cotton tail to wag.  

Thoughts of him invaded your senses as you were preparing your shared home for his return. He had been away for a hero conference, and unfortunately you weren’t able to join him this time. Responsibilities awaited you at your own job and you had to do with being apart. It was torture for the both of you. Of course, it wasn’t the first time you were separated. However, it always felt as if time was mocking you. Every tick of the clock grinding on your eardrums and laughing as the both of you struggled with sleep without one another.  

To say you were excited for his return was an understatement. You had cooked him his favourite meal, took great care in making kuzumochi and planned on wearing his favourite lingerie set. If you were jumping up and down with your nose and tail twitching from excitement, well that was your business only. (It was in fact your business and the house cameras business, which would amuse the flame hero greatly later on).  

Just as you were drying off the last drops of water from your shower, slipping into your set of lingerie did your ears pick up the door opening. Too joyous to bother on wearing your bathrobe, you hopped and rushed to the hallway to greet your hunk of a man.  

A whoosh quickly followed the ‘Tadaima’ that left Enji’s mouth when your bodies collided. With your arms around his neck, your legs wrapped around his torso, and your cotton tail happily wagging, you found sanctuary in him once more. Head buried in his neck; you happily muttered a greeting back.  

“Okaeri, Jiji”  

A content sigh left both of your lips as he kissed the top of your head and petted the space between your bunny ears. Not wanting to untangle yourself from him so soon, you barely lifted your face from his neck to look him in the eyes, after all the flame hero had missed seeing your eyes and you his.  

“I have prepared a hearty meal for you, Jiji. Let’s go to go to the kitchen to fetch the food an-”  

A yelp escaped your mouth cutting yourself off. Having been too distracted by your pretty ears, comforting smell and the quietness of your home, Enji hadn’t noticed your lack of clothes. Your ears were blessed with a quiet pleased hum as he took in exactly what you were wearing, his arms roaming over your body entangled in his before gently caressing your cotton tail.  

“Hm, I’m not hungry for that kind of food, bunny.” 

Having been separated from him for so long, you were already floating away and couldn’t understand the innuendo. When asked if he would prefer some food from outside, he just chuckled and gave you a grin.  

“Not quite, bunny.”  

As he was walking to your shared room, you grew more and more flustered. Your cheeks were warming up, your eyes dropping from pleasure and slick creating a damp spot on your panties. Flustered from the gentle caresses on your tail, you hid your face in his neck to find sanctuary from his piercing gaze.  

Of course, Enji noticed not being able to see the dark look of pleasure in your eyes anymore.  

“Tsk, tsk, pretty girl, don’t go hiding from me now.”  

With you still in his arms, he sat down on the bed positioning you on his lap. Almost in a trance, you lifted your head from its place to give him a pleased smile as he continued to roam his hands all over you.  

You observed him as he gently kissed every part of your body he could reach. With love and happiness bursting through your chest, you couldn’t help but grab his face to kiss him softly. Finally, your lips were reunited. Finally, his tongue met yours again. Finally, you were one again. 

Well, not quite, something was missing, something hot and heavy was missing and it was starting to grow hard underneath you. Reluctantly parting ways to fill your lungs once more with oxygen, your lips only now connected with a string of saliva, Enji’s lips chased yours for more even if his lungs were aching, burning. 

Greedily, you took off his shirt, unbuttoned his pants until he was left with nothing but his boxers. A pool of slick had gathered in your panties by now, drenching them, ruining them. Getting up to rid yourself of your own clothes, a big warm hand reached out to stop you.  

“Don’t, bunny. I want to see you drenching your pretty lingerie for me.”  

“They’re going to get ruined, Enji!” 

“Don’t you worry about that, bunny. I’ll just buy you more. Now get over here, I missed you.”  

“Hm, I missed you too, love.” 

Climbing back in his lap, you tugged away at his boxers until his dick sprung free. The tip leaking precum and blushing a pretty red colour.  

“You know what I missed the most, though?” 

“Hm, tell me, pretty bunn- nuuugh fuck.”  

“I missed your pretty cock, Jiji. I want to suck it so bad, can I? Can I suck your big cock, Enji?”  

Enji had to take deep breaths to stop himself from cumming right then and there. Your pretty eyes were looking at him, a sparkle of excitement in your clouded irises, your small hand barely closing around his dick. Your pretty lips, all red and swollen up from his kisses. Fuck, what a way to come back home. When he took too long to reply, your hand twisted at the head and spread the pearls of precum leaking out. Both your mouth and pussy growing wetter at the thought of him in your mouth. Filling you up so good, his scent and taste overpowering everything and anything else around you.  

“Enji, please, can I? I need it in my mouth please please please.” 

The sigh of you so cock-drunk made him twitch in your small hand. No thoughts in your pretty head except for his big dick.  

“Fuck me,” A groan escaped his lips when you spit on his cock to make the glide easier “-you can do whatever you want, bunny. It’s all yours, I’m all yours, pretty baby.”  

Thank you’s left your lip in a rush as you pushed him down on the mattress to properly straddle him. However, just as you were about to be whole again, Enji tugged on your arm and gestured at his torso with his hands.  

“Get over here, pretty bunny. I want to see your beautiful pussy, baby.”  

Your cheeks warmed up and you quickly maneuvered yourself to sit on his torso, your back facing his face. Fuck, Enji’s gorgeous cock looked so big compared to your hands.  

With your tits squished against his happy trail & your hands on his strong thighs, you opened your mouth wide to finally be whole again. As you ascended on him further, tears were rapidly building in your eyes, pools of saliva and arousal slipping out of your mouth making a mess of his balls. Slurping noises and pleased hum left your mouth. Fuck, nothing else was as good as the taste and heaviness of him. His musk, his taste, him in you once more made your ears point outwards from happiness.  

Suddenly, you felt electricity dance along your spine again. Enji was groping and occasionally groping your tail again in rhythm along your bobbing up and down. He just couldn’t help himself, his bunny looked so good with her cotton tail wagging and twitching from excitement. Your body immediately reacted to his action by vibrating, causing Enji’s cock to twitch and throb in your mouth.  

Moans soon joined in when he started to play with your pussy. The flame hero had tugged your panties to the side, and the sight that had greeted him back made him audibly groan.  

“God damn, baby, did you miss me this much?”  

Your slick was dripping, making a mess of his lower chest as your hole clenched around nothing. Using his fingers to play with your cute little clit earned him a pretty yelp from his bunny before you resumed sucking the life out of him. After lazily drawing circles on your bundle of nerves, he realised he needed to get a better view of what was his. He let his hands massage your butt before parting his bunny’s cheeks to see just how much your pussy had missed him. 

“Fuck, pretty bunny, you’re making a mess over here. Shit and all of this wasted slick,” the broad man gathered your arousal pooled on his chest to lick at his shiny fingers and outright moaned at the taste. “-fuck, baby, need to taste you. Need to get my mouth on that crying cunt.”  

Unfortunately for the number one hero, the height difference didn’t allow his mouth to be anywhere close to where he wanted to be. He was left to watch as your weeping cunt kept on dripping more and more arousal on his chest. He felt like he was going to explode right there and then.  

You couldn’t even hear him, too engrossed in engraving the feel of his dick in your mouth. Feeling and tracing every vein, every pulse, every throb, made you dizzy from pleasure.  

“You’re so big, Jiji.” You lapped at the drops of arousal on his slit, drunk off of the taste of him, the scent of him. “Fuck, could do this forever, fucking love your cock, Enji.” You whimpered before getting your fill again and going as far as your throat could take.  

“Mhm, made to suck dick weren’t you, bunny? Let me get a taste of you, love, need to-” He was interrupted short when you managed to swallow all of him down to the base. Praises were flowing out of his mouth like oxygen leaving his lungs, an instinct, a natural body reaction to you.  

‘Fuck, baby, you’re such a good bunny.’  

‘My pretty little bunny sucking me so good, baby.’ 

‘Such a good bunny for me, fuuuck meee.’ 

With his head thrown back, he groped your ass once more and landed a slap on it. His cock throbbing when he saw your cheeks and tail bounce from the impact. He slapped your butt one more time, amazed by the bounce before grabbing your tail with one hand while the other hand started to finger you making you whine.  

“Shit, pretty love, such a warm mouth for me, fuck fuck, wanna make you feel good too, bunny. Need to make you feel good, baby.” Enji felt his brain go fuzzy from your hot, tight cunt gripping his fingers, your hard nipples against his happy trail, your warm mouth and the softness of his baby’s cotton tail.  

“I missed your dick so much, baby. Can’t get enough of it, please please please- so fuck such a good cock, Jiji.” You were a babbling mess, not making any sense as you kissed your beloved’s cock and traced every vein with your tongue. You didn’t even know what you were asking for, more of his fingers or more of his cum. It didn’t matter as long as you could keep your mouth on him.  

Enji, on the other hand, was growing frustrated seeing you clenching on his fingers, painting them white with your arousal seeping out of your cunt. He had missed your cunt so much and he could only lie there helplessly unable to get a taste of his favourite fruit. He needed to drink from you again, let the juice drip down his throat and stain his teeth. 

Thrusting his fingers in and out of you, he tried to find just the right spot. A smug smirk painted his lips when he felt you keen more, pants leaving your mouth more urgently. He kept on hitting your sweet spot and groping your tail until he felt you pull his dick out of your mouth.  

“Mnuuurgh, don’t stop Enji, so good, your fingers feel so good fuck.” You whined beautifully, the sound a harmony to his ears. Unable to concentrate with his fingers playing with your body, you opted to tap your tongue against his cock and lick into his slit. Closing your mouth around the tip and hollowing your cheeks made him see stars. You were driving him insane; he couldn’t take it anymore.  

“Gods, fucking come here, bunny. Driving me fucking insane over here, fuck.” was hissed by your man before he looped his arms around your thighs and pulled your weeping cunt to his mouth.  

“Enj-ji, wait no, w-wait"  

Before you could get more words out, he was feasting on you as a starved man would, drinking you in as if you were his last drops of water and to Enji you might as well be. He lapped at your juices, trying not to let one drop escape his lips, his hands around your waist, stabilising you, guiding you to grind your face on him. Quickly, he pushed two of his thick fingers in you again and hit your g-spot relentlessly. Your body was vibrating with pleasure, but you wanted him, needed him in your mouth again. “F-fuck, Enji I need you please please please. Need to taste- mmnuuuurgh fuck fuck so good Enji so good ooooh!!”  

You could Enji’s lips grinning as he continued to lap at your leaking hole, grunting and moaning at the slickness on his taste buds. “Enji, please- Fuck, -” Seeing his leaking tip, you tried to reach him, but you were only able to barely graze your hands against the hot flesh. You were growing desperate, missing the weight in your mouth, pools of saliva gathering in your mouth at the sight of his arousal. “-Jiji, want you in my mouth again, baby” You whined, looking down at him and frowning when you saw him pay you no mind.  

“Let me suck you again, love” Puffs of air were leaving your mouth as you continued to whimper, in a moment of despair, you tried to get his attention by squirming out of his touch. This caused Enji to scoff and finally pull himself away from his ambrosia.  

“Oh, bunny, you are not taking this away from me. You’ve had your turn, now let me devour-” 

“Enji, please please, I want your cock so badly, no I need it please Enji pleas- Fuck!” Fuck, Enji was not playing fair, pinching your tail between his pointer and thumb to turn you into putty.  

“Now, you listen, bunny and you listen well. Don’t try to squirm out again and let me enjoy your sweet juice hm, -” His fingers resumed to thrust in and out in times with his other hand playing with your tail. “-, your pussy missed me, bunny. Don’t want to take this from her nor me, right baby?” 

“Nonono, baby, just- guuuh please just, oh gods, just need, I need- Fuuuck Enji!”  

“Hm, pretty dumb bunny can’t even think without something to suck on, huh baby?” The hero needed to occupy you while he had his feast if he didn’t want you to squirm away again. So, he left your hole gaping around nothing and brought his fingers in front of your mouth. “Open your mouth, darling.” he commanded, and you happily obliged him. “Hm, you look so good like this, bunny. Maybe we should set up a camera next time so you can see just how good you look, huh?” Your lower face was covered in a mix of fluid, your saliva, his arousal and now from your own slick. When his fingers made contact with your taste buds, you pleasantly hummed at the taste of yourself.  

Now that he was certain that you wouldn’t try to escape anymore, the red hair continued to eat you out, one hand alternating between pinching and tugging at your tail while the other hand had its fingers in your pretty mouth. After lapping and tongue fucking you, Enji decided to pay attention to your swollen clit. You gasped in pleasure when his hot muscle touched your bundle of nerves. Shaking and mewling on top him, tears rolled down your cheeks from the stimulation of your tail being petted with and your man’s tongue flicking your clit over and over.  

The coil in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter ready to snap at any moment the longer Enji played with your body. You could only think and feel Enji, please or more or fuck love your tongue, love your fingers, love you or his name were the only words leaving your stuffed mouth. You were so close to the edge, teetering on the verge of an orgasm.  

Enji could tell you were about to cum as well from the slick dripping down his face. “Fuck, going to come for me, bunny? Come on, let it out f’me, pretty darling.” He cooed at you, letting his tongue be in your cunt once more, lapping at your juices and creating the perfect friction for you to get off to. Your moans and gasps only spurring him on to go faster.  

Then, your vision turned white, the elastic band finally snapping, mouth biting down harshly on your lover’s fingers from the sensation. Enji just hummed and groaned at the cum filling his mouth, his senses drowning with only you you you. When he felt your legs tremble uncontrollably around his head, he retrieved his fingers from your mouth to grasp your inner thigh and secure you on his face as he drank up any lingering drop.  

The grip he had on you lessened as he continued to hum and groan at your arousal, allowing you to part ways with his mouth enough to finally reach his cock again. Too engrossed in his task, Enji just blindly followed his ambrosia as you at last gripped his cock once more. Eating you out had turned him on so much that only a few tugs were needed before ropes of cum shot out.  

Having had his fill, Enji disconnected from your pussy for a moment leaving you to quickly escape his grasp to enclose your mouth around his tip. The flame hero couldn’t even complain. Your warm mouth and hands were milking out every last drop of his cum and he could taste the juices of your pussy staining his tongue, his mouth, his teeth.  

When you swallowed everything that your lover had to give, you happily gave a last kiss to the head before turning around and smiling brightly at your Jiji.  

“Welcome home, baby!” 

“Hmm, and what a way to come back this was, pretty bunny.”  

You leaned your weight on his chest, your arousal from earlier having dried on his lower chest. Both of you let out pleased hums when your lips connected softly, lazily making out, tasting the taste of yourselves on your partner’s tongue. Fluids mixing together, legs entangled together, two beings turning into one after being separated for so long. 

You laid in bed for some time before Enji carried you to the bathroom so that you could pee, and he could wash away any lingering cum on both of your bodies. The rest of the day was spent with you in his arms, feeding the both of you the delicious food you had prepared earlier. Pecks and pets were exchanged throughout the whole evening until the both of you went to bed.  

Safely tucked in his arms, all warm and safe in the freshly made sheets, you kissed your lover his last kiss of the day.  

“Goodnight, Jiji. I love you.”  

Enji kissed the space between your ears and caressed your back to lull you to sleep, and before he could even form a reply, you were softly snoring, letting out happy noises and purring when he would graze at your cotton tail.  

With the comfort of your weight finally back on top of him again, he felts his own eyes droop down in an attempt to sleep, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to look at you a bit more, his pretty bunny purring contently in his arms. However, sleep was inevitable, and before he submitted to it, mutters left his lips in pure devotion. 

“Goodnight, baby. I love you, too.” 

[bathylychnops]

he cuts it every other week and colors it w/ box dye because he went grey at 12 when his psychic powers manifested. & the stress of using psychic energy makes his hair grow faster? it overproduces keratin orsomething

[fisheito]

collab #2 with @xenole i was given a chibi yakumo and i.. i...... turned it into thiS

[thoughtcascades]

I come from a long line of people with something wrong with them

[angels8thworld]

I'd really like to get to know you again

- Her

[baggy-holmes]

i have a deep love for hot showers

[withastorytotell]

Something in me dies when I look back at 15, 16 17 years and more of the little time that I have lived and passed and I realize the weight of all the unmade decisions abandoned. I could have picked up that book. I could have taken that one last photograph, I should have told that her smile was pretty. I could have given him that letter when his mom died. I could have adopted that stray kitten. I could have said sorry and baked grandma that cake and been silent before I cut with my unfathomed anger. I should have breathed better before that one fight and told my sisters that I loved them. I should have taken a step back and I could have kept that one foot forward. I get to revel in the could've, should've and would've now. The after-taste is left far more bitter with regret than sweet.

[i-want-to-be-a-poet]

Who do we blame?