#while ignoring The Circumstances. and it's like oh yeah i'm not just doing this for fun it legitimately helps me function. and live

[windrunner]

oh my queue paused again. anyways where is that one tweet thats like "sorry i accidentally ghosted you i was trying to k*ll myself" because i'm mentally posting it 200 times

[lambilegs]

getting acquainted with the dildo: attempt #1

contains: sevika teaching reader how to suck the strap, dry humping (reader doing it on sev's thigh), friends with (resolved, thank god) tension, slight humiliation kink, a bit of a spit kink, teasing, inexperienced reader, implied age gap (both reader and sevika are adults), sevika calls reader "kiddo" teasingly, reader's body is referred to w/ the following terms: "pussy," "clit," "cunt"

when you tell sevika that you've never used a strap-on before, you nearly beg some higher force to let the ground swallow you whole. you two have been friends forever, but lately, it's undeniable that some sort of molten desire has been pooling at the center of what you have. maybe it was always there, and had just been in denial. but, it's undeniably present now, impossible to ignore, thick and heavy in the air, lining every interaction with a sort of hot lava.

and it's made confessions like this, ones filled with sexual secrecy and exposed desires, carry a lot more weight than they did prior. you're pretty much confiding in a woman who you're aching to have sex with about just how much experience she should and shouldn't expect of you. it's way more vulnerable, and it feels like you're spoiling her prematurely by peeling away sexual secrets that in a different circumstance, one with just regular dating, she would've discovered on her own in the context of wanting to have sex with you. but, doing it in a friendship, when you don't even know for sure what she feels, is more uncertain. it's farther away from the line of actual romance and desire, and therefore feels risker to admit. because if your inexperience deters her, maybe she'll easily dismiss and rid herself of any attraction she might've once harboured for you, since it'd be simpler to as just friends.

so, to say the least, you're scared when confessing this secret to her.

at least, that's until you see the way her lip curls up when, while laying on her couch, you confess that you're nervous about one day using the strap due to never having done it before. she seems equal parts intrigued and amused by the revelation. from where she sits, picking at one of the screws in her arm, she asks, tone low, steady, "well, do you feel ready?"

"I don't know." you stare up at the ceiling, for the thought of maintaining eye contact through this conversation is a bit too unnerving for your liking. "I mean, I'm sure everyone feels... not ready when they start using it, right?"

she shrugs. "maybe. to a degree. but, you don't need to push yourself if it really scares you." her voice has turned tentative, face absent of the initial mischief. with the way she angles herself away from you, it seems that she's somewhat uncomfortable with giving such earnest advice.

"thanks for the sex-ed," you laugh, trying to ease the mood some.

"well, considering I've actually worn the strap and you've barely touched it, you could use all the advice you can get."

you try not to visibly tense up at the casually tossed comment. you knew sevika has used a strap, of course you did. you've been at her apartment enough times to catch sight of her lube or dildos (because, yes she has several) scattered about. but, god, the idea of it taut on her pelvis, ready to be used to pump into you, has your thighs tightening.

"well, then, oh-wise-one, what would be your advice?"

she shrugs, avoiding your gaze for a few seconds before saying, "getting acquainted with it. with things like sucking, touching, you know."

"sucking?"

"yeah." the corner of her lip quirks up as she raises an eyebrow at you. "never done that either?"

you feel your face warm, feeling awfully pathetic under her pointed gaze, years of experience behind it. "no." you groan, swiping a hand across your face. "god, I'm gonna be so horrible at it when I first do it."

"then, practice."

you scoff. "with who?"

"by yourself?" she drawls, casting you an incredulous look as though she aims for you to question your own stupidity.

you huff, turning away. "I can't do it on my own, how will I know if I'm even doing it right?"

"then, I don't know," she sighs exasperatedly, lighting her cigar. "someone you trust, I guess. someone who wants their dick wet."

"the only person I know who wants to get their dick wet is you," you snap, a petulant part of you hoping you can embarrass her as much as she does with you.

her lips wrap around the tip of the cigar, that scar on the bottom one seeming to deepen. it's almost entrancing, hooking your eyes in and leaving you resistant to its power.

you only snap out of the spell when she says, "is that your way of asking for it to be me?"

the words have your lips parting before you can force them shut. what the fuck is that supposed to mean? you're well-aware of the tension that's been there between you two, of course you are. but, you never imagined that sevika would actually initiate anything. sure, she's flirted here and there, and you're convinced she's started purposely mentioning stopping at babette's for the sole purpose of making you jealous (after all, she always has such a shit-eating grin whenever you fidget or glare at her in response). but, still, it's never amounted to an actual offer, an actual step over the threshold between friendship and, well, something else.

you know it's the more responsible decision to say no, and shut this down before things get complicated. or at least until you clear up whatever it is you guys consider yourselves to be in relation to each other, and if it's something that carries as much emotion to her as it does to you.

but, part of you wants to give into the throb between your legs, the thick tension crackling in the air, the way her gaze is resting on you calmly, as though debating whether or not she should pounce. and god, you want her to, itching with curiosity as to what she'd say if you teased back.

and so, you do. "why, are you offering?"

you get a world of satisfaction from the way she coughs at the question, puffs of smoke blowing from her mouth as she roughly clears her throat. beneath it all, though, is a very apparent underbelly of nerves in your stomach, tingling in anticipation for her answer.

when she finally sets the stupid thing down, giving her lungs a well-deserved break, she says, "why, do you want me to?"

you grit your teeth, a spark of irritation set aflame from this back-and-forth. you wish she could treat you with the courage she does anyone else, just answering your question then sweeping you off your feet with no action required of you. but, no, she just has to be cautious, and hesitant, and sweet. today, of all times.

you sigh. you suppose it's on you to end this game. your chest is tight with anxiety, the words about to roll off your tongue heavy and filled with consequence. but, you push through, anyways. if you remain vague, she will too. if you say no, you may lose your chance with her for god knows how long. so, the only option is: "fine, yes."

immediately, regret weighs upon you, sinking down into your guts. you shift, eyes pointed down to your knees, trying not to panic, when a small huff meets your ears.

it's sevika. sevika chuckling.

your eyes tentatively raise up to her, nails digging into the plush of the cushioned seat you're on. her small, endearing gap flashes as she shakes her head slowly, her laughter sounding split between amused and incredulous, bordering on a scoff.

you feel nearly glued to your spot when her eyes finally rest upon you, the grey shine in them wrapping around you and pulling, pulling and pulling.

she leans back in her couch, spreading her legs out. "well, then, hop on, kiddo."

and that's how you wind up on her thigh, her arm wrapped around your torso as you fist at the fabric taut over her broad shoulders. her mechanic hand squeezes into the silicone balls of a dildo, eyes stuck on your lips as she traces the tip over them. your breaths are heaving with anticipation as she strokes the head along the inside plush of your lips, getting the bulb of it wet and slick with your spit. the experience is exhilarating, for you know she's capable of going harder than this, of fucking your throat raw. but, no, she wants to take her time with you, draw out every drop and dribble of pleasure for the both of you.

"who knew you had it in you?" she muses with a raspy laugh.

before you can even speak to protest, she slides the entire head in, capturing your voice and transforming it into a broken, wanton moan of surprise. her eyes practically gleam at that, and she slides the dildo out of your mouth's confines with a pop before sliding the tip back in. your lips latch on automatically, hugging around the head and letting it roll around the flat of your tongue. despite the sheer anxiety of having sevika's attentive eyes on you, the motions of her push-and-pull into your mouth is almost -- well, relaxing? the repetitiveness of it, the way it gives you something to direct all your five senses to as it lolls about in your mouth, your lips tightening and loosening -- it makes your brain feel softened, hazy, lost in this.

"ah, look at that," she coos, her tone hushed and sharpened with an edge of mockery. "sucking on that like that's all you're good for."

the playful degradation makes your clit fucking throb, and without meaning to, your hips automatically jerk forward, the firmness of her thigh making your eyes nearly roll back.

"oh, someone liked that," sevika mutters.

her thigh suddenly bucks up, sending you bouncing on her lap and nearly toppling over if not for her muscular arm steadying you. the pressure against your pussy makes you whine around the toy, your lips stretching open to release the noise only has her pushing it in deeper, nearly a quarter of it now sliding up and against your tongue.

"suck it in and out, just like that," she whispers, her eyes burning into your skin as she intently watches you. you try to follow her directions, but your sucks are too eager, too fast, and sevika reaches her hand up and gently grabs your jaw, coaxing it into fluid motions that has the dildo being softly pressed and released by your lips' grip, over and over and over again.

you know this is a horrible idea, a fact that only becomes more punctuated with every thrust of the toy into your mouth. you know you should've had some more self-control, and should've put a stop to this inane idea before it had manifested into a reality. but, no, you just had to think with your pussy, and now look where it's landed you? on your friend's, a good, loyal, helpful friend's, lap, practically rutting like you're in heat and sucking dick with zero technique.

"when that gets a bit too repetitive, you can lick it." she abruptly yanks the dildo from your mouth, and an embarrassing wad of spit stretches out with it, spilling thickly down your chin. your face is practically burning from the heat of humiliation, but sevika doesn't seem to mind, only smirking and saying, "now, I was gonna tell you you can get messy with it, but you're a step ahead."

now that your mouth is finally freed, at least you get to spit out, "you're such a dick," as though your pussy isn't practically leaking with arousal.

"oh, so you suck off any asshole, then?"

"maybe I will once you're done with this lesson," you haughtily snap back.

her eyes narrow at that, but she says nothing to it, smacking the tip lightly against your mouth. "open."

despite your snapping, and much to your annoyance, your mouth immediately goes slack, falling open for her.

"tongue out, now."

you obey, sticking it out.

she snorts, shifting in her seat as she raises the dick to you. "such a little sub."

you roll your eyes at her words, jerking when she grabs your jaw, forcing you to face her. "keep those eyes on me."

your pussy clenches down on nothing. god, you need her. not that you'd ever admit it -- the last thing she needs is another ego stroke.

"show me how you'd lick this."

giving you so much control causes your confidence, however little you had of it, to waver. you hesitate before tentatively stroking the flat of your tongue along the head, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. a tiny burst of pride ripples through you when you see her eyes widen imperceptibly. it's barely there, but you know her well enough to know it wouldn't have happened unless, at the very least, a small part of her was surprised, or maybe even impressed.

the reaction eggs you on, and you do it again, running your tongue along the entire length of the dildo, using the tip to trace along the bulging veins. when that's done, you lap at the head, the flat of your tongue quickly moving along it in steady movements.

when sevika speaks, her jaw is clenched, and the deep breath she takes shudders. "good."

"yeah?" the clear effect you're having on her is most definitely getting to your head, and it makes you desirous to push and prod at her more. "am I being good?" you end the question with a kiss right to the tip.

almost as though sevika is tethered to the toy, she swallows hard at the sight. "yeah," she says, her voice firm. "you're doing good."

the praise has your hips bucking again, and you internally curse at the leverage you've so clearly given her, another wicked smile curling at her lips.

her thigh resumes its actions from before, pumping up to meet your clothed core as her arm grips your waist tightly, keeping you anchored as she encourages you to rub yourself on her. your body acts before your mind can catch up, hips pressing down so that your clit receives some friction through the layers of fabric. you hate to admit it, but sevika's muscled thigh is a perfect helper.

"you can flick your tongue on the tip, too," she says, her voice a lot rougher than it was a few minutes back. you derive some pleasure from it, for even if your resolve is loosening and waning in wake of her touch, at least hers seems to be too.

"how?" you ask, your voice an embarrassing pitch from the desperation accompanying the word. but, as soon as it slips from you, your mind conjures up a single image, and it drives you to ask, "can you show me?"

"you kidding me?"

"no." you bat your eyes, hoping it'll get her more susceptible.

"I'm gonna need a bit more convincing than some pretty eyes."

oh, well, never mind. you deflate physically, though something tickles your stomach at knowing she finds your eyes pretty.

"oh, c'mon, please, sevi," you say, tugging on her arm with a jutted bottom lip.

after a few moments of casting you a deadpan stare, she sighs, tentatively turning the dildo around and raising the head to her mouth. voice warm, so velvety, she murmurs, "like this."

you hold your breath as the tip of her tongue pokes out, flicking along the head of the toy, flapping over it fast and hard. she may not realize it, but she's giving you a crystal clear shot of exactly how she'd look devouring your clit. you pocket the mental image, already knowing you'll pull it out the next time you get off.

when you follow suit, lapping at the tip, your tongue's point making little zig-zag wags, sevika's hand tightens on your hip, and with just one pull, you're back to riding her thigh. the pleasure coursing through your pussy, deep and aching from the pressure, is making you lost in sensation. your eyes flutter close as your hole clenches and your clit swells up, sevika's muscular thigh hard and lovely.

meanwhile, she's easing the toy into your throat, laughing when you gag all over it, spit gushing from your mouth. she's relentless in her practice, just coaxing you to move faster on her thigh as you struggle to accommodate the dildo, pathetic whines tumbling from your mouth everytime she pushes it in and your throat seizes with a choke. it leaves you more sloppy, more wet, more nasty than you were before, saliva trailing down your chin and getting your neck cool and sticky.

sevika's hand slides up your waist, just barely grazing the side of your breast on the way up, before brushing a thumb against the corner of your mouth, wiping away the residue. the touch seems wholly intimate compared to the ones that preceded, especially when she uses the digit to encourage your mouth to open and take the dildo in again. she seems to be more cautious of your limits now, easing it only halfway in. your eyes flutter shut, sucking nonsensically at it, losing yourself to the rhythm as you jut against her thigh faster.

sevika's eyebrows furrow in as you speed up, her breathing laboured, and you nearly giggle around the toy at the evident impact you're having on her. but, that's not all there is to it, for her expression only has a series of more hot, tempting mental images bursting through your mind. her panting like that when thrusting into you, her eyebrows scrunching in concentration like that while she lavishes attention all over your soaked cunt.

the thought has you bouncing faster, and sevika growls. actually fucking growls. her hand abandons your face, opting to grip your ass tightly and drag you harder against her. your bud is practically weeping with desire now, desperate to have its wants sated as you grind down harder. the weight of the toy on your tongue, the way your mind is numbed from the bodily chaos of sucking, thrusting, clutching -- it sends you rolling close to your orgasm, just barely teetering on the edge of it.

what finally sends you hurdling past it is how sevika bites her lip when she pulls you forward again, her thigh pumping up and down to meet your thrusts. she looks so concentrated on you, her dark eyes hooded and intense, and the pure want on her face makes you feel so desired, so aroused at the idea of how many ways you can get that expression on her face again. that, paired with another aggressive press from her thigh, and a tight suck on the dildo, sends your body crashing with an orgasm, walls spasming as your thighs go taut. you writhe in her arm, nearly tipping all the way back if it weren't for her catching you and holding you close. your chest presses flush to hers as you tremble like a leaf, clit sopping and stinging in sensitivity as she continues pushing against it.

you whine in protest, slightly lifting your hips, and she immediately takes the hint, slowing her movements to a stop. all the while, you keep sucking on the dildo, the shape of it in your mouth, the way it offers you something to latch onto and ground yourself with, practically addictive.

sevika watches you carefully for a few moments before gently tugging it out, a string of saliva hooked between the head of it and your bottom lip.

you moan in surprise when shr leans in and runs her tongue along your chin, curling it right at your bottom lip, swallowing down the saliva all for herself.

"you're such a mess," she mumbles, sucking languidly at your chin.

"it's not my fault," you grunt, voice raspy from all the noises you made. now that the heat of the moment has worn off, the searing burn of embarrassment begins to imprint itself on you. god, you were so loud, so desperate, so--

"you looked good."

you lick your lips, some of the nerves calming. "yeah?"

"don't let it get to your head."

"that's true, I already had my fair share of head for today."

her eyebrow raises at you in a distinct lack of amusement. "you're lucky you're cute."

your stomach sizzles with oh-so-stupid butterflies. god, why does she have this much of an impact on you? and it's so effortless on her end too, which makes it all the more frustrating for you.

"you think I'm cute?" you ask, forcing your tone to sound teasing so she doesn't realize just how earnest you are.

when she falls silent for a few moments, you tense up, wondering if she can tell how serious you are.

"who's the one leaking through my favourite pants right now?"

or maybe not. face twisted into a cringe, you grip her shoulders to stumble into a standing position, her hand still loosely hanging by your waist. "on that note, I think I'll go wash up."

her fingers dig with a bit more pressure into your skin, and to your shock, she says, voice gruff, "not just yet. just sit for now."

you let her tug you back into her lap, your arms immediately winding around her neck. "what for?"

she shrugs. "just comfortable." her eyes finally lift to you, and it's like you could plummet to the ground with how swept over her steady gaze makes you feel.

"was it not you who just made made that stupid pants comme--"

"do I need to get the dildo again?"

you burst into laughter, eyes crinkling as you shake your head at her. "is that gonna be your go-to whenever I piss you off now?"

"amongst other possibilities." her fingertips ghost your waist, and you shiver.

other possibilities? you know it's not the smartest thing to dwell on -- after all, she might've just said casually with no serious intent. but, sill, your stomach warms from something you had been trying your best to avoid this entire interaction.

hope.

but, when she touches your waist like that, and seems to struggle to remove her hand from you as you walk away, you can't resist the little part of you of that whispers, maybe it's warranted.

but, you don't want to get ahead of yourself. so, you keep it at just a maybe.

[barleyo]

If ur in twd fandom I would loveee a Daryl dixon age gap fic!! Just him being disgusting over taking her first time? Just a major power imbalance between them. Dont do this if ur uncomfy ofc!! Stay safe bookie <33

Men Who Are Older.

Daryl Dixon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: cried happy tears at this request, i LOVE daryl, he's so yummy. dirty old men foreverrrrr!!! i haven't seen all of twd and it's been a while since i've watched it, so this could be super ooc for all i know!! sorry it's short, i wanted to get all my ideas down quickly :3

Tags: LARGE age gap (18-19 and late 40-ish), power imbalance, coercion, p in v, loss of virginity, allusion to anal, creepy old man behavior (ugh i luv it)

Wordcount: 1.2k

You found yourself often visiting Daryl in his tent later in the night when you couldn't sleep. He tried to act like it annoyed him, like your presence was a nuisance to him, but it wasn't. You weren't the most irritating person he had to deal with day-to-day. You were polite enough for your age, you didn't mess around and snoop through his shit. You didn't judge him.

Most importantly, though, you were attractive. There wasn't much hot, young tail to chase around the camp. He liked to think you were his reward for living through hell every day. Nothing like eye candy at the end of the night to ease a hardened man's stress.

It was like most nights when you entered his tent, not bothering to announce yourself. Daryl looked up from the pocket knife he had been mindlessly flicking to eye you down. 

"Shouldn't you be in bed by now?" 

"Yeah, right," you said, taking a casual seat on his bedroll. "What're you doing?"

He clicked his tongue at you on his bed, but sighed and ignored it. "Nothing. Too damn late to do anythin' important."

"Want to chit-chat, then?" You rested your hands on your knees, hoping he would soothe your boredom.

"Do I wanna 'chit-chat'?" Daryl flicked his knife closed and tucked it in his back pocket. "If you wanna chat, why don't you go do it with someone else? You don't have friends your age?" 

"I used to." He didn't say anything, just flattened his mouth at your rebuttal. "We're friends though, aren't we?"

Crossing his arms, he let out a hum. "Whatever you want, kid. Sure. We're real pals."

You spoke about whatever came to your mind for the next however-many minutes with him. Mostly just you babbling on, but it didn't bother him. You could run off at your mouth all you wanted, gave him all the excuse to stare you down and look a little too closely at places he knew he shouldn't.

Eventually, you got on the topic of things you missed about life before. Things you wished you got to experience, things you were slowly starting to forget about.

"I didn't even get to properly lose my virginity before this shit took over," you complained, now laying on Daryl's bed like it was your own. "It really bites, man." 

His eyes widened a bit, arms falling to his legs from their crossed position. 

"Wait, what'd y'say?" 

"Huh? Oh, I didn't get to have sex with anyone before the outbreak," you repeated, not caring to turn to face him while you spoke. "Sometimes, I wonder if I'll die before I get any." 

So many things rushed through Daryl's head at that moment. A virgin? You? It wasn't exactly surprising, you weren't old enough for it to be a shocking thing to hear, but the thought really intrigued him. Made him wonder.

It gave him an idea, and lord knows dirty, old men have even dirtier ideas stewing in their minds.

"That bother you?" 

You finally turned your head over to look at him, eyes looking conflicted.

"I guess, a little. There are bigger things to worry about, but I feel like I'm missing out," you said while trying your best to sound nonchalant. "It's not much of a priority, under the circumstances, you know."

Oh, how wrong you were. It very much was a priority, an urgent one at that. 

"Never know. Could happen, if y'really wanted. Don't rule it out completely," he advised, wiping his face with the back of his palm. "Maybe some younger man might find his way here. Could be an opportunity." 

"Nah, I couldn't go for that. I don't wanna be inexperienced and have to deal with an equally inexperienced guy too. That'd be like hell," you joked.

"Sounds like you want an older man, then."

He called on every guardian angel he had in that moment, praying for you to take the bait. Just one chance, damn it, he wasn't asking for much.

"Yeah, guess so." You made eye contact with him for a brief second, before flitting your eyes around in embarrassment. "Listen, it's getting late, I should go." You pushed yourself up, ready to head back to your family.

Daryl stood from his seat and grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

"I don't mind," he said, dancing around the answer to the question you didn't yet ask. "I know my fair share."

"Those don't sound like sounds a virgin'd make," he teased. He loved how you sounded. Straight from a porno, just shameless cries and squeals. "You sure you ain't did this before?"

He watched the back of your head shake 'no' while his hand guided along the arch in your spine. Took you a while to learn to keep your head down and ass up, but damn it if you didn't put the knowledge to work quickly.

"Am I supposed to be dizzy?" you asked, voice muffled by the blankets under you.

Daryl chuckled softly, slamming your hips back on him. "Yeah, if the guy's doin' it right. Feel good?"

Your hands clenched the fabric you were laying on, digging into it roughly.

"I think? I—I dunno, 's just so much."

Being the man he was, Daryl took that as a challenge. He flipped you over on your back, cock still rocking into you. He sped up, letting his movements get sharper. 

"C'mon," he muttered gruffly, trying to urge you to place your legs on his shoulders, "you gonna be this much of a problem for the next guy?"

You gave your weak legs a kick, wrapping them around his neck so the shaking wouldn't roll them off his shoulders. 

"No, no," you whined, groping your tits to keep your hands busy, "don't want another guy. He won't be as good as you, Dar." 

How the hell could a few little words get him ramped up even more? He knew you probably didn't mean it, horny girls said whatever their pussies wanted them to say, but the way he fucked you made you believe your own words.

"Yeah? I ruined ya for other guys already?" 

The stark difference between his now softer tone and rougher thrusts confused your brain in the best ways possible. You couldn't focus on just one aspect of him: Daryl was everywhere. In your brain, in your heart, in the very blood flowing through your veins— and, of course, inside of you. 

It was too much, all of it. 

Your walls clamped tightly over him, sucking him in like a vacuum. The clenching of your walls over his dick sent him over the edge, barely leaving him enough time to pull out. He bit the back of his hand, stifling a moan while he jerked himself the rest of the way off, coating your tired pussy with his cum. 

"You didn't cum inside, did you?" You sat up quickly, scooting back a bit. 

Daryl let out a huff. "I'm not an amateur, I know how to pull out."

"Just checking," you mumbled, lying back down on his bedroll, head nuzzling into the pillow.

You felt his dick push up against your ass, prodding between your cheeks.

"I could show you a way that'll make sure no idiot douchebags get ya knocked up," he offered, head desperately tapping against your asshole, "if you want."

A soft sigh came from your chest as you pushed your ass back on him.

"You're an eager teacher, y'know."

[luvvixu]

mind over matter pt. 6

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, mention of drugs, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: WE ARE SO, SO BACK!!! also, i am renewing my taglist, so pls just comment if you want to be added :3

previous / masterlist / next

never ever once in her life, yukie michiga could experience the alcohol intoxicating her system vanished in a very short time. was it caused by the adrenaline that surged on her veins when some odd circumstances like this occurred? probably.

the mistress's eyes continued to pin widely at the other female in front of her. she looked like someone who rose from the dead, who escaped the morgue. if you are going to judge her appearance by the choice of clothing, a loose hospital gown along with some thin pair of slippers—looks like she ran away from the hospital.

yukie doesn't need any identification card to identify who was this person that just blasted her walls and mocked her profanities while claiming what seems to be her husband. but the thing is, she need to know who the fuck was that guy standing beside her and holding her back for support.

actually, the man was quite familiar in her eyes, but she couldn't pinpoint it yet since the memory has been buried during the times she was still a student at jujutsu high. regardless, she will soon learn his identity eventually.

yukie watched the two figures enter her terrain with curse energy unnoticeably trailing behind their backs—more specifically on the female, who stopped her tracks when she's ten steps away from her and the love of her life.

instinctively, yukie possessively wrapped her arms around the man's body like he was her greatest prized possession—which he is. yukie did not miss the hardened expression that the female had when her eyes landed on her tight grip. the mistress wants to smirk proudly at that time but for what reason?

“hello, yukie michiga.” the female calmly enters the room through the hole she plunges.

yukie snorted at her fake attitude. “you know you need to pay for that, y/n hoseki.” she sarcastically pointed at the big hole using her eyes. yukie made sure that she pressed your maiden surname, not your husband's surname.

you ignored her sarcasm but you couldn't deny the rising anger when she mentioned your maiden name. nevertheless, you continue to move forward until you're five steps away from them. you looked at the unconscious male in the other woman's arms and secretly sighs.

meanwhile, yukie gazes up from top to bottom. she examines every part of you just to find any insult that she could use as a weapon to provoke the wife, you, even further. but one thing caught her eyes, you are wearing a loose hospital gown.

“for a girl like you, it was surprising you don't do fashion.” yukie chuckles at herself cockily, indicating your alleged type of clothing.

you wanted to laugh at her joke too, but it came out as forced. “yeah… i could have said the same thing to you after this.”

the mistress twitches angrily at your remark. you just grin at her reaction and secretly consider this a part of your victory. meanwhile, yukie badly wanted to wipe that smugness on your face.

“okay, cut with this bullshit. you won't be getting your husband back.” you raised an eyebrow at her words. gently, you let go of nanami’s hand support as you prop your knees until both of your eyes are on the same level. you made sure that looking yukie is looking at you dead straight.

“listen here, woman.” you started, making sure that you are speaking slowly so she would get your words precisely. “i’m not here for my husband. i'm here for a sorcerer.” a frown of confusion displays undeniably on the other woman's face.

what facade are you trying to imply?

“oh? thought you're already divorced?” beyond her confusion, yukie played safe, not wanting to jump to conclusions first because it might get her into a hot position. but seriously, the mistress was puzzled at your words.

“why? so you can marry him?” you sarcastically questioned back.

yukie thought this was an opportunity to provoke you. “what do you think?”

“i suggest you should not.” face turns sour, you actually don't know what comes into your mind and it just blurted out like that. now you sounded like you don't want your husband to marry another one.

but one thing for sure, you're not saying that because you don't want to see other females being with satoru, but because you don't want to see them being on the same fate of marriage as yours.

yukie seems to think the same as your first conclusion judging how aggressive she gets. “why? because you're in love with him? because you want him to be yours when he's clearly not into you—”

“because i’d pity you more, that's why.”

“...”

“what the fuck are you saying?!” a cartoonish flash of smoke seemingly cake out from her head and nose because of your words.

you raise your eyebrow in defense. “i'm not lying though.”

“bit—”

a hand pulled you back gently and made you stand up, it was nanami who was looking at you with hidden concern behind those stoic eyes. “y/n, let's just get this over with. you still haven't fully healed.” he said.

“i'm fine, nanami.” you patted his arm for assurance.

after a few seconds of scanning your face, he sighs and turns back to the villain of this moment. “give gojo satoru back, michiga yukie. this is an order from the higher ups of the jujutsu, and i suggest you would not do anything stupid because that would make your sentence longer.” you were amused at how fast his voice changes. from the soft and gentle tone he uses at you, to the hard and cold tone he shifted at yukie.

“what the hell are you saying?! i'm gonna give him back! he's mine…satoru is mine.” oh yukie michiga is a really hard headed and obsessive person, her hands are still wrapped around satoru and your nose scrunch up at the sight.

nanami comes into defense. “go believe what you believe. but yukie michiga, what you're doing right now is a crime and i have the power to kill you right now.”

“go on! let's see how long it'll take for you to kill me.” a wide crazy smile appears on her face, finding his threat so little that she thinks he's picking a child fight at some random playground.

“oh, i'm not letting you do that. no one is allowed to kill you, unless i said so.” two heads turn towards you with wide eyes at your sudden calm outburst. for someone who's named y/n hoseki-gojo, you are known for your utmost composure and wouldn't just use a risky tone to someone. nanami was a little bit bewildered at your words, you sounded like…a vengeful spirit at some point and it's making his hair stand up straight, a goosebumps.

“what…”

you stare at her, not blinking a bit. “michiga, death is too good for you and it's too early for me to see you burn in the pits of hell. that's why by keeping you alive, i’m bringing hell with me so i could watch you suffer.”

“now, let him go and come with us. we could end this peacefully.” you said, but yukie refused to move an inch and it made you sigh.

“no? okay, don't mind me if i do.”

yukie frowned, “do what—”

bam!

yukie's eyes rolled on the roof of her head as she collapsed from the impact. nanami looked at you in shock. “what?” you shrugged it off.

“did you just…?” nanami blinked, watching yukie michiga’s limp body slump to the floor like a discarded doll. her arms finally unwrapped from gojo, whose unconscious form gently leaned into you. you held him firmly, eyes flickering toward nanami as if daring him to question your methods.

“you didn’t have to hit her that hard,” nanami finally said, his voice a mix of concern and awe.

“she talks too much,” you muttered, gently adjusting gojo’s position in your arms. “sesides, she’ll live. unfortunately.”

nanami sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i’ll call for backup. we need to secure her and transport both of them safely.”

you nodded but your gaze didn’t leave satoru. his face was pale, framed by white strands that had lost their usual arrogant charm. he looked so…peaceful, but not in the way you used to adore. this was the kind of peace that only came after trauma—after being mentally shackled.

nanami caught your expression. “y/n…”

“i’m fine,” you said a little too quickly.

“you’ve been through enough already.”

you offered a humorless smile. “and still breathing.”

nanami walked past you, crouching to check yukie’s pulse and binding her arms with a cursed energy seal. “you said you weren’t here for your husband. you sure fooled her.”

“i’m not.” you lowered gojo onto the couch carefully, brushing a hand through his hair. “i came for the sorcerer who is said to be the strongest…not the man who i married.”

silence fell like heavy snow.

then, as if on cue, gojo stirred, making you and nanami froze. his fingers twitched first, then his eyes fluttered open—weakly. slowly. but it was unmistakable.

“y/n…?” his voice was hoarse, dry, and barely above a whisper.

you swallowed the lump in your throat, stepping back instinctively. “don’t talk. you need to rest.”

gojo’s gaze wavered. he blinked slowly, confusion clouding his usually clear eyes. “is this…real?”

before you could answer, yukie groaned from the floor.

nanami cursed under his breath. “we need to move now.”

you gave one last look at gojo. “we'll talk when you're stronger.”

“no y/n, wait—” he tried to sit up, reaching a hand toward you, but he was too weak to lift his arm fully.

“rest,” you repeated, more firmly this time, before turning your back and walking out of the room, leaving gojo staring after you in pained silence.

nanami gently pushed him back down. “you’re lucky she still cares enough to save you.”

gojo’s breath hitched. “but she shouldn’t though, i don't deserve it.”

nanami raised an eyebrow. “you’re right. but she did.”

—©luvvixu2025

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[helslastangel]

Moon Conjunct Venus + Moon Trine Ascendant Synastry

Based on My Personal Experiences 🔞

This may not resonate for everyone, so if it doesn't hit, please let it miss. There are 18+ topics included this so minors, do not interact. 🔞

Their Moon conjunct your Venus

This aspect is wonderful if you're both feeling each other. They can and will read you like a book without even needing to turn the first page. If you've ever seen or been in one of those couples where the one person knew exactly what the other one wanted or needed, without ever discussing it, even once?

Yeah, those are the vibes here.

You will be loved exactly the way you want to be loved and if things don't work out, there is a good chance the breakup could leave you feeling destroyed for quite some time, even if you were never in a relationship.

This aspect can make it very difficult to be "just friends" if either person wants more from the connection.

But even platonic friends with this synastry aspect can be amazing. These are the kinds of friend that you give the spare keys to, can call at 4 in the morning whether for an emergency or just to sob about something stupid.

They are the ones you who can come over without calling first. In fact, you welcome it and aren't surprised to come home and find them asleep on your couch. Like this is the friend that you're more like family with if you're not in a romantic connection.

If you ever get in a mood and start talking about "everyone this" and "people always/never that," they aren't offended because it doesn't even cross their mind to think they're included in that pile.

There is no guarantee that things will always be perfect or work out with this placement, obviously it depends on factors in the whole chart and other things like time, place, circumstance, and so on.

Of course, anyone who can read you accurately has the ability to use that to manipulate and harm rather than help and support you, but that's a risk of life in general. All I'm saying is: with this aspect, when it's good, it's DAMN GOOD.

To give you an example, I had this synastry with a Scorpio moon several years ago (I'm a Scorpio Venus). We met at an event and hit it off so well that we were talking outside the venue for nearly 4 hours, annoying his friends and mine. Ended up bringing him home with me and I fully expected him to disappear into a cloud of dust the next day, but he didn't.

We didn't end up working out beyond friends with benefits, but he's NEVER been rude or unkind to me once. Extremely patient, always calm no matter what and very sweet to me whenever we run into each other somewhere in the city every couple of years.

The way he handled me emotionally was just beautiful, I can't think of another way to put it. Most of my friends at the time would ignore anything I did creatively - not him, he found one of my books and posted it on his story with a cute caption saying how much he loved intelligence and that he was proud of me. The type to show up in the rain and keep me company when I was sick (back when I lived alone), even though he had class, work and practice all that day. The first time we hooked up, I was getting my laundry together and wondering why he hadn't left yet. He picked up the bags talking about, "Nah I got 'em, lead the way to the laundromat, why would I leave you to do this by yourself."

TMI / TW (mentions of sexual activities, body fluids, menstruation/periods) so again, minors, get out of here and the rest of you proceed with caution or skip to the next paragraph.

He was very much empathetic and also body positive-absolutely nothing seemed to gross him out. I have so many examples, but let's go with something both extreme and spicy. I was bundled up, laying on his shoulder and trying to deal with menstrual cramps while we were watching a show and him going, "Oh you know I read somewhere that orgasms can ease those, may I?" I'm there like, may you what? sure?? I'm curious?? Next thing I know, he's got a towel down, yeets the tampon and dives in head first talking about "a period ain't stop nothing but a sentence." And, well? All I'll say is.. at least ONE man knows where the clit is! ibuprofen, who? where? 😂😈

Obviously that's a bit much if you're a vanilla type (but a Scorpio moon + Scorpio venus? baby we was freaks, what can I say? lmfao) but this is just an example I mention because the important part is not once did he bring up getting off himself. No hinting for a quickie or a BJ like you might expect. I even offered because I was used to guys doing seemingly selfless gestures only to be guilt-tripped shortly after, and he was just like, "Sorry, what? No, you're not feeling well, I wanted you to feel better, plus I don't need to get off all the time, I read it's healthy to ignore the urges sometimes." (Idk if you could tell, but he REALLY likes to read, loll).

That's what I'm talking about with the Moon-Venus conjunction. This kind of synastry will vary in the specific ways it's expressed of course, but all other things being equal, someone with their moon conjunct your venus will intuitively know what you want and need to feel loved, and it works because it blends very well with their own emotional needs. If the moon person tells you they enjoy doing something for you or with you without expecting anything in return, believe it. It sounds like a lie because of the types of people who would lie about that, but with this aspect, chances are they meant that shit.

Not only that, but you'll feel like you've known them for a long time. That's because you'll also understand their emotional expression on an intuitive level. This isn't as one-way as it could sound. Oh, no, not at all. You will feel like you've met before and find yourself making time and space, and finding energy for them even out of thin air. You could live in a tiny studio that you'd never share with anyone and then find yourself cleaning out your closet on a Sunday afternoon to "make a little space" for their extra work uniform or even as tiny as keeping an extra toothbrush, clearing a hook in the bathroom, keeping their favorite snacks in the fridge, stuff like that. You'll generally feel at home with each other and trust can build VERY quickly. Others could even wonder if you're okay, especially if you're normally a paranoid person.

With Scorpio moon guy, he accidentally left his wallet the first time he left my place and I called him when I found it. His response was "Oh I left it at yours? Oh good, that's okay then, I'll come get it at some point this week, let me know what days you'll be home". He knew me for less than 24 hours at the time, lol. 3 months later he had the door code to my place and there were two toothbrushes and two towels instead of one LOL, trust was never an issue and it certainly wasn't the reason we didn't work out either! We basically just couldn't really keep pace with each other because... we had a 6 year age gap. Completely different life stages. I have a feeling if we both were a lot older, it would have worked out. Literally nothing else was wrong with us.

Now, that was with me being the Venus (and Ascendant-see below) person. I'll be honest, as a Capricorn moon, I'm curious about how it would be if I meet a Capricorn venus romantically. I wonder how that would play out all the time, and I think I'll let that remain a mystery until it happens, then I'll hopefully still be blogging then and come back and tell yall about that too. THAT BEING SAID... I do have this aspect (as the moon person this time) with a platonic Capricorn venus friend I had for nearly 13 years. We would literally be in each other's houses (and hair and business lol) all the time. We had yearly festivals we always went to together, talked almost everyday, knew how each other was feeling before the other one would even say anything. Mopped each other up off the floor when going through shit. She punched a guy I was dating who cheated on me, and I introduced her to a mutual friend who I thought she might like to date, and then cussed the hell out of him when he didn't pull his weight like I thought he would. Things like that.

The friendship ended nearly 7 years ago but I miss her every day. I remember what happened, but in hindsight, it seems so foolish now and I miss her every single day. We would have been friends for 20 years by now and I don't have a lot of regrets in life, but that is one of them. She hurt me but I handled it so poorly both before and after she reached out to talk that it just destroyed the entire foundation of our friendship. I haven't even tried to get over it because I don't want to. To me, that would be just disrespectful, I feel like it's something I need to carry with me as a reminder to do better next time. I'm sure you see by now that this is a quite an intense and dynamic placement!

Bonus Observation:

Moon Trine Ascendant Synastry

If someone with their moon conjunct your venus ALSO has their moon trine your ascendant, WHEW that is hot. Not only will the emotional connection be strong, but they will find everything about you on the outside just as enticing as the inside.

They genuinely enjoy the way you express yourself and can have a lot of patience for any shenanigans you might get up to. These people will watch you from across a crowded room all evening and suddenly appear by your side just before you leave to tell you they think you're attractive and want to get to know the rest of you beneath the surface. And it's rarely ever creepy. They'll know just how to approach you. I've had this synastry aspect a few times and it's always been like that. Genuinely charming. Perfect rizz.

This kind of synastry, as I said earlier, will leave you in absolute shambles if things don't work out, especially if you don't encounter this synastry often in your connections. Personally, I'd consider this one of those aspects where one or both of you can feel like the other was a soulmate, or "the one that got away," and end up being celibate or single (if romantic), or becoming asocial (if platonic) for a long time after splitting up. That or cycling through a series of awful relationship and friendship rebounds in an attempt to find them in another person.

Not too much on me for this, but there's a country song by Colt Fold that I'd loved for half a decade now called 4 Lane Gone. I'm sure there are other songs out there that would capture this better, but this is the one that stuck with me.

Something about the way this artist captures the feeling. Wistful, you can tell dude is acting strong, but knows damn well a good thing just got royally fucked up. Maybe I'm just melodramatic (I'm water dominant after all), but have a listen and see if you get what I'm talking about.

Idk. From my experiences with these aspects (been lucky enough to experience it with more than one person), I'd say it gives a pretty good idea of how either side could feel when it ends. Probably more so the Moon person, though, as they're likely to react like this to either a) being the one to end the relationship prematurely and regret it, or b) being blindsided by the Venus/Ascendant person up and leaving, and taking so long to process and recover from the shock, that by the time they chase after them...they're...well...four lanes gone. Lol.

Lyrics

[Verse 1]

Been raining for three days

On the fast track to the highway

Trying to save a little time

Lord I never should have tried

Taking this back road shortcut

Now I’m way stuck, so sunk

I’ll never catch her now

So I just put the tailgate down

She’s probably somewhere doing 95

I got nothing but this cooler and time

[Chorus]

I cracked one waiting on a ride

Two or three just to pass the time

While she’s headed to a new town

And I’m too lost to be found

She probably thinks that I don’t care

Stuck in the rut in the middle of nowhere

And just my luck I’ll be here all night long

Man, I’m bummed out back road buzzed

And she’s four lane gone

Yeah she’s four lane gone

[Verse 2]

Every empty beer can makes me

Miss her like hell, man I can kick myself

For the place and the shape I’m in holding me back

Yeah my wheels keep on spinning

And she’s ticked off blacktop fast

[Chorus] x 1

[Bridge]

While I’m stuck here all alone

With a midnight natty light

One more chance I’ve blown

[Chorus] x 1

[Outro]

I’m out here all alone

Yeah she’s four lane gone

She’s four lane, four lane gone

Yeah she’s four lane gone

She’s four lane gone

[yuri-is-online]

Without Saying (Floyd and Ruggie x Yuu)

"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, feral ariel (Floyd) vs light angst again (Ruggie). If you liked this please check out the previous parts on my masterlist.

Floyd

Under normal circumstances, a quiet Floyd was a suspicious Floyd but today- well today it was just odd. He doesn't look bored per se, just idle standing next to a very tall woman with similarly colored hair who is slowly, carefully, with extreme focus examining every inch of what you think is a novelty piggy bank shaped like the school's wishing well.

"Are you done yet Mamma?" Floyd sounds like he is being careful not to yawn.

"Hush now Floydie," she doesn't even blink, that's how tight her focus is, "Mamma is concentrating." Mrs. Leech's lips are tightly pursed while Floyd mutters something about going to get some candy and slinks off while you question if getting involved in this conversation is part of your job description or even smart. Unfortunately for you by the time you look back up from your clipboard Mrs. Leech has moved directly in front of your face in complete silence. "Human-" you go to scream but she silences you with a look you can't tell is from magic or practice raising the twins "Human can you help me with something?" She doesn't even wait for you to agree before holding up the piggy bank. "What exactly is the purpose of this object?"

"That?" You are surprised your voice doesn't give out entirely as she vigorously nods. "The piggy bank?"

"I see, I see." She nods sagely, immediately whipping around to where she evidently thought her son still was, shrugging undeterred as she decides to simply yell. "FLOYD! IT'S CALLED A PIGGY BANK."

"That's nice Mamma." Calls Floyd, oddly coming off as polite and rational from somewhere deep within the Mystery Shop. " But like what does it do?"

"EXCELLENT QUESTION! Say human what does it do?" You are deeply tempted to say that this woman cannot be serious but you don't really want to find out. You draw yourself up to your full height and nod.

"You put coins in it." Mrs. Leech blinks, a bit taken aback.

"Wait really?" Bravely, with a reasonable fear of being bitten, you reach over and gently lift up the top of the wishing well to show her the coin slot.

"I'm pretty sure this one plays a song when you put a coin in too." You explain.

"But it's so tiny?" She marvels, repeatedly opening and shutting the top of the bank. "How're you supposed to keep your money safe if it's so fragile? But then again I do keep most of mine with my husband..."

"Uhm it's supposed to be a fun gift for little kids." It occurs to you that she might find that offensive since it did look like she was buying it for herself. "To teach them about saving money, at least where I'm from anyway."

"Oh how cute. That settles it, I am definitely getting this." As if sensing that it is check out time Floyd shuffles over and immediately perks up.

"Little Shrimpy! Were you the one helping my mom?" He seems really happy, causing you to breathe a light sigh of relief. Mrs. Leech looks confused, zeroing in on you with the same concentration from earlier.

"Yeah. Trying to anyway." You nervously say; Mrs. Leech's attention turns to her son.

"Aww, how cute. You fishin' for a favor shrimpy?" Normally you would play along with his teasing, but your eyes dart awkwardly to Mrs. Leech whose attention is back on you, then the piggy bank, then you then her son, then you agai-

"Not really, I'm just trying to do my job." You awkwardly laugh and Floyd pouts.

"Spring or Summer?" Mrs. Leech asks cheerfully. To your surprise she has somehow managed to snatch up a second piggy bank within the .2 seconds since you took her attention off her.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh just wondering that's all." She has a very serene smile on her face. Almost too serene. Like you just somehow signed away your soul because you didn't read some fine print. "I'm more partial to Spring myself." You try to look to Floyd for some context but for some reason, he's refusing to make eye contact. Weird.

Ruggie

"Thank you dear." The elderly beastwoman breathes a sigh of relief as you help her settle onto a bench next to the Coliseum. "Goodness, Ruggie warned me this place was big but I didn't realize just how serious he was." You nod, unscrewing the cap on one of the water bottles you brought with you for the old lady. She takes it thankfully and you breathe a gentle sigh of relief, not that Granny Bucchi had been anything more than a bit winded when you found her, but it was still worrying to see an old woman bent over like that. "I really should have just waited for him."

"Didn't he promise to meet you at the mirror chamber?" You ask, trying not to sound too judgmental. You find it hard to believe someone who spoke as fondly of his grandmother at Ruggie wouldn't want to escort her around, Granny Bucchi looks at you sheepishly sort of confirming that.

"He doesn't actually know that I'm here just yet, I wanted to surprise him." She tries to pass you back the water back but you shake your head. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, the sort you only ever get while relaxing with a cup of tea, or in this case a nice old lady who is genuinely enjoying the campus scenery. It's so nice Grim curls himself up into your lap for a little nap. Granny Bucchi scratches just the right place behind his ears to convince the "not a cat" to let out a very cat like purr.

"Did you send him a message to let him know your here?" You whisper, trying not to wake your baby. "If not I can send him one." She lets out a small laugh, similar in sound to her grandson's but still very much her somehow.

"Oh I am sure he'd be half way here already if he knew I had you to myself. Who knows what sort of ideas I could be putting in that head of yours." She winks and takes out her phone, squinting at the keys trying to piece together a message. "You should still send him one though, you'll probably be faster than me."

"Do you mind if I take a picture?" You ask sheepishly. "You know so Ruggie knows you're ok." Lies you just want a picture of you with Granny Bucchi. Sure, to Twisted Wonderland she is just some lady, but she is easily celebrity tier to you with how much glowing praise Ruggie heaps on her.

"Oh please do!" To your surprise she seems genuinely excited and strikes a little pose. What a natural, Vil has nothing on this woman. Not that you are going to say that out loud because you don't have a death wish. You happily text Ruggie as Granny Bucchi looks on fondly. "Do you like taking pictures?" Her voice is much softer than it has been in the admittedly little conversation you have had. "Ruggie sends me a lot of the ones you've given him from your ghost camera, I keep trying to ask him if you're planning on being a photographer in the future but he always dodges the question." She's clearly curious and you can't blame her, you just aren't sure how to answer.

"The future is a bit complicated for me." Is what you settle on, really hoping it doesn't loose you points.

"Oh you don't need to feel bad about that." Her eyes are filled with warmth and affection that you haven't felt in a long time, it's enough to make you want to cry. "Technically the future is complicated for everyone, some of us just muscle through it better than others. Case in point." Granny hauls her self up and nudges you to turn around. Ruggie is staring at both of you with a strange look in his eyes, but when he makes eye contact with you he shakes himself out of whatever mood that was and jogs up to meet you both.

It would be nice, you think, if you could do this again.

[barksenji]

Even thought it's pretty common in fanon, it's hard for me to imagine Horror as a hungry beast of some sort. To me, his eating would be clearly disordered, both because of trauma and guilt.

So, of course, I decided to write about it. Feel free to give it a read. TW for ED-like thoughts.

It's Only a Bottle.

Guilt.

Although he had long since grown accustomed to feeling it, it was still foreign. A part of him wanted to believe that none of it was his fault, that he had merely been a victim of circumstance. But another part of him—his more rational self—truly bore the weight of his actions.

And that was why, even though the sight of a full plate of food would have made anyone in his state happy, it only made him nauseous. It had been so long since he had seen "real" food, this almost seemed alien.

The smell of the steaming meat made his stomach growl, yet he hesitated with the fork.

The familiar sensation began clawing at his gut, more painful than hunger. He wanted to take a bite, but at the same time, he would rather die than do so. The aroma was so similar to...

"Not gonna eat?" asked a voice barely louder than a whisper. "You don't seem like the type to waste food."

Horror shot him a sideways glance.

"I'm a little busy right now. Can I ignore you some other time?"

Dust just chuckled and sat beside him. Without paying much attention to Horror, he started eating.

Back then, he had been too caught up between resets and voices to care for food. Reminding himself of its wonders was a pleasure.

So, the clinking of utensils against plates filled the room. Horror didn't even dare cut into the meat—it was disgusting. The raw redness inside, the sound of it tearing under the knife, the thought of putting it in his mouth.

His glowing pupils shifted toward Dust, who seemed completely indifferent to those details. Horror scowled at the mixture of envy and disgust roiling inside him. He didn't notice when Dust met his gaze.

"...Are you vegan?"

"...What?"

Dust pointed at Horror's plate with his fork. "The meat's not gonna bite you, bud."

An awkward silence settled between them.

"What I mean is, uh... I can eat it if you want."

Horror could have handed him the whole plate right then and there. Just looking at it made him sick. But, giving food to this bastard? Hell no.

"Yeah, sure, fatass. If you get any heavier, you'll be going on missions in a mobility scooter."

Dust clutched his chest dramatically, gasping. "I'm not fat! I'm just big boned."

"Oh please. I know three fat guys and you are four of them. If anyone ever gets close to you it's only because they can't break orbit."

"Yeah, well, your mom needs to stop feeding me every time we meet up."

They stared at each other for a few seconds... before bursting into laughter.

Yeah, yeah. They hated each other, or whatever. But there's no better humor than your own.

"But seriously, I can leave you the veggies if that's what you want. Or you could even get something else. That's the one good thing about this pigsty."

Horror's smile vanished as he drummed his fingers anxiously on the table. The thing was, while removing the meat would definitely help, there was something else about the food that didn't sit right with him.

He had held back for years, ignoring the growls of his stomach and the pounding headaches... He hated to admit it, but he had gotten used to that kind of suffering.

It is what it is. He had brought this upon himself—and upon everyone else, too. It wasn't just some small, stupid mistake... No, he had fucked up big time, and fate had let him off easy.

And now he was here, making everything even worse in an attempt to fix the mess he had started, working for a sociopath with a plate full of food in exchange for his hands stained with dust.

"Uh... So?"

It didn't matter what he ate. The textures always melted into something disgusting and made him nauseous. Funny, considering he was a skeleton.

Then there was the fact that he had grown weaker as his body rotted without nourishment. Broken bones were useless in battle. Nightmare would force-feed him, or-more likely-he'd just get rid of him and find someone less troublesome to deal with.

He had to eat something. Gross.

He let out a tense sigh. "Eat it all if you want, starving rat. I'm gonna get ketchup. Just... just that."

Dust raised an eyebrow.

"Ketchup? Nothing else? Not...?"

"I don't have the time or the crayons to explain it to you, buddy."

Before Dust could come up with a witty response, Horror got up and walked away from the table. He'd like to say he was mad at Dust, but—why, exactly? he was pissed at himself.

So he was mad at Dust, because technically, they were the same person. Only, it was easier to be mad at Dust because at least he hadn't reached... that point.

Of course, it was all Queen Undick's fault, right? That he had become this. He couldn't eat because no food in the world could erase the smell of human flesh from his head.

But beneath his anger, there was a steady stream of thoughts, just loud enough to be heard through his rage. Ideas that tore deep into what was left of his mind, even if subconscious.

"You destroyed the Core beyond repair, genius. Your temper tantrum took everyone else down with you."

He shook his head at the fleeting idea. He had done what he had to do. He had been forced to. If they had listened to him and dismantled the Core, this wouldn't have happened. Damn it, his fucking "friends" tried to kill him!

Deep down, he knew the thoughts were true. But a thick layer of denial protected him. It wasn't his fault. He hadn't doomed the people of Snowdin. He hadn't doomed his brother.

No.

He wasn't like Dust.

~~~

Between the insomnia and the nightmares, Horror had no desire to sleep. However, the ceiling wasn't the most exciting sight, especially in the dead of night. So, naturally, he sought entertainment in the depths of his own mind.

The thing is, his head, while deep, was anything but entertaining, and if there was anything more annoying than his thoughts, it was his body.

In the end, he settled for eating nothing. He couldn't deal with the implication—whatever that meant—of eating. He'd sip a bottle of ketchup now and then, that he could handle, but tonight, he didn't even have the guts for that.

Something about the smell of the meat, the grease dripping from it, the way its juices stained the plate—it ruined everything.

But his body disagreed. He was so hungry he wanted to tear his own bones apart. By now, he was sure no one knew hunger like he did—a desperate, overwhelming feeling that clouded your thoughts and possessed you.

He curled into a fetal position, clutching his stomach as his thoughts grew more stern than before. While his body screamed for food, his mind reminded him that he wasn't going to get a single meal.

He had spent years starving. It had become a part of him-his punishment, his penance. The reflection of the sins crawling up his back. Because unlike Dust, he was still a judge, and he had sentenced himself accordingly.

He might be a sadistic bastard, but at least he was fair when it mattered. This was—

The sound of the door opening yanked him from his thoughts. Instinctively, his head snapped toward the entrance.

He relaxed slightly upon recognizing the figure, though he'd rather die than admit it.

"Dust? What are you doing up at this hour?" he asked. Though he probably already knew the answer.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Dust stepped inside, the dim hallway light barely illuminating his features. Horror noticed the red bottle resting in his hands, and Dust caught his curious glance.

"This?" Dust gestured toward it. "I noticed you didn't eat anything, so I thought... y'know, I'd bring you something."

Horror's expression faltered for a moment. The gesture was almost... nice. But his surprise quickly twisted into a scowl.

"Does it look like I need your pity, fuckface?"

The silence stretched between them. Then Dust rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep rolling your eyes—maybe you'll find a brain back there."

"Look, pal... I just don't want you screwing us over, okay? This affects your performance in battle, which affects mine."

Dust walked over to the nightstand next to Horror's bed and placed the ketchup bottle on top.

"I'm not dying because of you."

Horror sneered. Who did this jerk think he was, his boss? He was barely distinguishable from a hobo.

"Dust, if it ever seems like I care, please tell me. I wouldn't want to give the wrong impression."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. Good night, Sans. Hope you dream about me." He scoffed.

And with that, Dust left, shutting the door behind him.

...

"... Damn it, he even pulled my legal name. What an asshole."

Horror stared at the nightstand, biting his nonexistent lip. God, he was hungry.

He hesitated. Drinking it felt like giving in to Dust's demands, and he would never.

Plus, the image of the meat was still too vivid in his mind...

But.

He was hungry.

So, so hungry.

His hands hesitated, but, in the end, he reached out for the bottle. It doesn't matter. Dust wasn't going to find out anyway...

It was only one bottle.

Only a bottle.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Don't know if you are taking one-shot requests or if this is by like impulsiveness, but feel free to decline or put this off if you don't feel like writing it. Anyways I keep thinking of Remus accidentally hurting one of the marauders while messing around during a full moon and the the domino effect of him just shutting himself off and pulling away from the group because he just feels terrible about it. Anyways feel free to write this or just ignore it! Just wanted to get this out there somewhere. I love your work. You are extremely talented <3

HELLO.

I definitely complete requests on an impulsive basis, HOWEVER this one has very much piqued my interest haha.

I hope you enjoy!!

"I'm sure you're very shaken, Mr Black," Professor McGonnagal starts, as Madame Pomfrey keeps on dressing the three gashes across his chest. He flinches a little, but honestly? He's barely paying attention. He cranes his neck to glance at the closed curtains a few beds down, vaguely wondering if Remus is awake yet.

"I'm fine," he says dismissively.

"I just need to assure you that what happened last night is an anomaly." She sits on the chair beside his bed, looking at him severely. "We have safety measures in place, as well as our curfew," she says pointedly. She clearly isn't quite ready to reprimand him for breaking curfew yet, but he'd honestly rather that she did. "I understand if you wish to change dormitories, now. I'm sure that can be arranged. However, we would like to do everything in our power to keep Mr Lupin at Hogwarts-"

"Change dorms?" Sirius interjects, confused. "Why would I do that?"

"Well..." Minerva glances at Poppy for a second, clearly surprised. "If you wish for Remus to be moved, we may be able to-"

"No. No, I don't want anyone to move," he says simply. "It's fine, it's really not a big deal."

"Sirius, we know that you are... aware of Remus' circumstances," Minerva says, reminding him of fifth year with an awful jolt of the heart. "However, you're allowed to feel shaken up after an incident like this. I understand if this changes your previous outlook on everything."

"It doesn't," he answers firmly. "Is he awake?"

"Oh." She looks at him, a little stunned, but Sirius couldn't care less. "No, not quite yet."

"Right." He nods to himself. "Can I see him? I just want to make sure he knows everybody's fine as soon as he wakes up."

"About that..." Minerva starts, uncomfortable. "It might be best for you to head to class. That is, if you feel like you can. We don't want too much suspicion to be built around-"

"Okay, yeah. That's okay, I get it." He swings his legs out of bed, grabbing the uniform that has been left for him. "I'll be fine." He's dealt with worse than a few slashes; this all just feels a little dramatic.

He's stocked up with potions and sent hesitantly on his way by Poppy. Professor McGonnagal seems nothing if not distressed, filling out paperwork and asking Sirius multiple times if he's sure he's okay before he leaves. It's a bit much, really. He just wants to get notes for Remus, then sit with him for a bit to keep him from spiralling. The Professors may not know this yet, but Remus is going to be far more shaken by this than he is.

Still, he dutifully goes to his classes, antsy as he scribbles down notes for Remus. All he wants to do is go to check in on him, make sure he isn't too upset. He needs to get in there before Remus lets what happened implant into his head and mess with the self-acceptance he's been gaining recently. When he finally reaches lunch, he all but sprints back to the hospital wing.

Much to his surprise, the wing is completely empty.

"Er... Madame Pomfrey?" He calls out. She emerges from her office, offering Sirius a smile. "Where's Remus?"

"I cleared him to leave," she explains gently. "He asked if he could go and sleep it off in your dorm."

"Oh. Did you tell him about...?"

She nods once, and Sirius' heart sinks to his stomach.

Shit.

"Okay, thanks for letting me know." He turns on his heel and immediately makes a beeline for the dorm. He can skip divination for the day, anyway. All he needs to do is show up next time with a prophecy about his own death.

The first thing he notices when he gets to the dorm is the darkness.

Every curtain is pulled shut, every light off. Remus' bed is entirely closed off, and Sirius can vaguely feel the weight of a silencing charm over it. He approaches slowly, gently, reaching out to pull the curtain open. As he suspects, it's charmed shut, locked and unmoving.

"Hey, darling?" He tries softly. Nothing. "I, er... I just wanted to let you know that I'm fine, okay? Don't stress yourself out."

Silence.

Either he's fallen asleep, or he just doesn't want to talk.

Instead of doing what he usually does and waiting for Remus to open the curtains, he gives him a little space. Something in him is telling him that Remus needs some time to himself. He doesn't want to ambush him and make everything worse.

That decided, he doesn't go to divination. In all honesty, he's still in a fair bit of pain; he doesn't exactly want to sit in a dull, stuffy classroom, pretending he sees things that aren't there. Almost subconsciously, he finds himself wandering slowly around Hogwarts. He makes it across the school, listening to the odd painting ask him why he's not in lesson. He wanders aimlessly for a while, trying not to let himself panic about Remus. He wanted to nip it in the bud, but now? He's not even sure when Remus is going to talk to him again.

"Sirius?" Lily's voice pulls him out of this thoughts.

"Oh. Hi. You're not in charms?"

"No, it got cancelled. Have you seen Remus? I've got the set work." She holds it up, as Sirius does his level best to keep his face neutral.

"He's not feeling well," Sirius supplies. Lily looks at him for a moment, tilting her head to the side.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I can take Remus' work, if you want?"

She hands it over wordlessly, offering Sirius a smile.

"Thank you. Tell Remus I hope he's okay, yeah?"

"Of course," Sirius says with a nod. She's somehow provided him with the perfect excuse to speak to Remus. He's more likely to stay in the same room with Sirius if they start talking about work. Maybe he'll be able to break the ice before Remus gets too closed off.

Something tells him that Remus will have bolted from the dorm by now. Instead of spending extra time going up to grab the map, he makes a beeline for one of the quietest spots in the school.

When he gets up to the astronomy tower, he immediately spots Remus. He's leaning against the rail, resting his head in his hands.

"Hey," he starts gently, walking over slowly. Remus jumps a mile, shoulders tensing. He straightens up, hands on the rail rather than his elbows, but he doesn't turn to look at Sirius. It's like he's hoping that Sirius will just... give up and leave.

Yeah, that's not happening.

He stops next to Remus, standing there in silence for a second.

"I've got your homework from Lily," he starts.

"Oh. Thanks, you didn't need to..."

"I wanted to," Sirius answers, turning to watch Remus carefully. Remus practically has his eyes fixed out at the grounds, as if the world will end if he so much as tries to look Sirius' way. "...You know I'm okay, right?" Remus doesn't say anything, but Sirius doesn't miss the small furrow in his brow. "I'm fine, and I'm not pissed off."

"You should be," Remus says quietly. It's practically inaudible, but Sirius doesn't miss it.

"Why? You didn't do anything."

"Sirius," Remus says again, turning to Sirius with a slightly exasperated and desperate look. "You could have died. You could have... Madame Pomfrey had to call McGonnagal in, that's not nothing."

"I'm not dead," Sirius starts gently, slowly starting to inch his hand towards Remus'. "I've been okay enough to be in class. Everything's okay." He takes a chance, reaches out to grab Remus' hand. Before he gets there, Remus pulls his hand away, practically recoiling, folding just a little more in on himself. "You didn't do anything wrong," he says again, willing Remus to just look at him.

"You could have died," Remus repeats, barely audible. "It would have been my fault."

"Last time I checked, you don't control it." Remus shakes his head. "There we are, so you didn't do anything." Remus opens his mouth to interject, but Sirius isn't done. "It was just a game that the wolf was really into. Animals accidentally scratch each other all the time. It wasn't malicious, and it wasn't dangerous. You backed off straight after."

He watches as Remus presses his lips into a thin line, trying to keep himself together.

"I'm fine. You're okay, I'm okay..." He trails off, eyes scanning over Remus' face. "Please, Rem, just look at me. I'm right here."

Finally, finally, Remus turns his head, eyes meeting Sirius'. For a moment, they just watch each other.

Until Remus crumbles.

The tears come before Remus says anything else, and Sirius just wordlessly pulls Remus into a hug. He ignores the sting as Remus wraps his arms around Sirius, gripping him as though he's scared that Sirius is going to disappear.

"I'm not going anywhere, okay?" Sirius whispers into Remus' ear, before turning and pressing a kiss to his temple. "I'm staying right here."

[curly-fry-3]

I don't know if you write for wlw themes since all your posts are wlm, so if you don't just ignore this, I'll understand.

So I wanted to request daughter-reader after having a bf for maybe a year breaking up cause she released 'holy shit I'm a lesbo' and they like broke up on good turns like he sure he was a bit sad but understanding and they both stayed friends. So now she somehow has to tell Dean, like she knows Dean probably wouldn't be mad at her but still she's a nervous wreck, and he liked her, now, ex bf much and almost treated him like family (You can continue from here if you write for wlw themes like I said already (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ)

𖦹Home of Sexual𖦹

summary𖦹 Dean realizes he hasn't seen you hang around your boyfriend in a while and needs you to explain the sudden shift on your behavior

pairing𖦹 Dean Winchester x Daughter!Reader

word count𖦹 1,276

notes𖦹 this request took me a while be cause IT IS AMAZING and needed to be handled with love and care

It had been a year. A year of dating your now ex boyfriend. You loved him, of course you loved him, but something just always felt off. You didn't understand why girls loved kissing their boyfriends or why other girls had a hard time staying celibate. You had always felt like something was wrong with you, that maybe you were broken. It took some self reflection–and a little exploration on the internet–for you to realise the truth. You're a raging lesbian. 

If you had come to this realization under any other circumstances it would have been no big deal, it’s the 21st century #pride or whatever. But this wasn't any regular coming out. You had a boyfriend you had to break up with. A boyfriend that your dad really liked. Your dad, Dean friggin Winchester, had gotten over the fact that his baby girl was dating a boy and had started treating the kid like family. So of course, when you broke up with him, you did not tell Dean–you didnt wanna break his heart. You also maybe we're sort of kinda nervous to tell your dad the reason things ended, it's always hard coming out. 

Your ex and you had split on good terms. Sure he was sad about it but he understood–it's not like you didn't want him you just didn't want boys (the problem really was you not him). But just because you two didn't hate each other doesnt mean you were best friends. Dean had noticed that he wasn't coming around as much. At first he didnt wanna ask about it; maybe you two were in a rough patch, you just needed to sort stuff out. But after a month of not seeing the kid he got curious (he missed him), He decided it was time to ask you what happened.

You were in your room one day after school. Dean noticed you doing that a lot lately, locking yourself away. He walked in and found you sitting on your bed scrolling on your phone. Working up the courage to start the conversation, he started picking up trinkets on your dresser and looking at them before setting them back down. Noticing your dads odd behavior, you cleared your throat and got his attention. He put down the toy in his hand and turned to you, leaning his body on the dresser and folding his arms over his chest. You put your phone down and sat up higher in your bed, “do you need something”

Dean rubs his hand over his face and stands up straighter “um kid you know you can tell me anything right”

You give him a questioning look “uh yeah, what is this about”

“Its just…I haven't seen your boyfriend in a while…you can tell me if there's trouble in paradise”

You freeze up a bit “oh…that”

He notices your change in behavior and his face hardens in confusion and worry “Are you two ok?”

You avoid eye contact and answer “well, yes…actually no, we um…broke up”

His gaze softens and he steps closer to the bed to comfort you. He reaches out and rubs soothing circles on your shoulders.“Aw sweetheart, I'm so sorry, you wanna talk about it? What happened?” You awkwardly shrug and look up at him “It was mutual”

He scenes your reluctance to give a clear answer and stops his soothing motions “Did he do something”

“N- No, no. He didn't do anything it just wasn't gonna work out” You stumble out

Dean immediately relaxes but doesn't stop his questioning “There has to be more than that, you guys were together for like a year”

“Im sorry dad, I know you liked him” You respond, looking down at your lap

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest again “Sure I liked him but I like you a hell of a lot more. Sweetheart, you sure you're ok? You can talk to me–tell me why.”

You look up at him anxiously “No judgement?”

“Do you seriously have to ask that, of course no judgment” he reassures

“ok…We broke up not because of any fight or anything…I just um…realized that it wouldn't work out because…I like girls”

“Oh?” Dean looks down at the floor for a second in contemplation then looks back at you “Oh!” His jaw is slack as he thinks about how to respond

You look around your room awkwardly “yeah”

He regains his composure “ok…cant say its too shocking but I still didn't expect it”

You focus back on him “Wait what”

He shrugs and continues “I mean, I know you only liked watching that live action scooby-doo cause of velma in the latex, can't blame you”

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion and your voice raises “You knew!”

He puts his hands up in defence “I thought it could be maybe a phase or maybe you wanted to be her…maybe you swung both ways. I just never thought you would only like girls…You only like girls, right?”

“Um yeah pretty much” You respond 

He rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet while processing what you said “so you're a lesbian?”

You nod “Yeah…wait you're like totally chill with this”

He looks at you with slight disbelief “Of course, why wouldn't I be?”

“I mean I didn't think you would be anti but I thought you'd have more of a reaction” You answer

“I like girls, you like girls, so what” He says, nonchalantly 

“I mean, I guess you're right” You agree

His expression turns serious and he lowers his head to catch your gaze“I'm glad you felt like you could tell me…cause you can tell me anything you know”

You look up at him “I know”

He relaxes a little and unfolds his arms, placing one hand on your shoulder “Good”

You stay like that for a second before dean interrupts the silence “Are you and him like done. Like is he never gonna come over”

You try to hold back your smile “yeah im pretty sure he doesnt wanna see me again”

Dean sheepishly asks “yeah, but do you think he would want to see me”

You chuckle slightly “are you serious”

He pulls his arm back and puts his hands in the air, exasperated. “He was a good kid. I'm not gonna apologize for liking him” He put his hands in his front pockets then mutters under his breath “at least he would want to watch football with me”

“Hey!” You interject “I heard that. Football is boring”

Dean makes a disgusted face “Football is the backbone of american culture, you would know that if you would watch a game with me”

You shrug “i'm ok with not knowing”

He looks down at his feet and sighs knowing that he isn't gonna win this one. As he looks back up at you, he gives you a warm smile “you ok…sure you two broke up for a good reason but you still cared about him”

You nod “i'll be ok”

“Good…now that that's over, you have to hang out with me again, I feel like you're always in your room.” He says

After Dean pulls you out of your bed you spend the rest of the night eating junk food and watching TV. He knew the breakup was still hard for you so he didn't even try to make you watch sports with him. Halfway through the movie you picked, you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Maybe you were a little different now, but that doesn't mean things have to change. You're still Dean's baby girl and he’ll love you just the same.

sorry if there are any typos and I hope you love it

@areswasneverhere

[cheynovak]

Perfect Aim - pt 1/2

Russell x Y/N f/character and co worker

Summary: Russell and Y/N are send out on a mission, she can't stand him until she gets hurt and he takes care of her.

Warnings: 18+! MDNI! - Spice/smut, blood, guns, shooting, ...

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Likes/Comments/Sharing are appreciated.

The hum of the engine filled the quiet space between us, an almost welcome respite from his incessant chatter. The man couldn’t shut up if his life depended on it.

Russel Shaw. Perfect record Shaw. Smooth-talking Shaw. And if that wasn’t annoying enough, it was clear he charmed his way through life, likely leaving broken hearts and dirty laundry behind for someone else to pick up. Probably his mother.

I folded my arms tightly across my chest, staring out of the window of his chevy to ignore his running commentary. Every word he said was like nails on a chalkboard, and the heat radiating from his cocky smirk wasn’t helping. His reflection caught my side-eye in the window, and he laughed.

“Damn, you remind me of my little brother, Colter.” His tone was teasing, but the casual dig at my mood set my teeth on edge.

I turned to glare at him, narrowing my eyes. He loved that. Of course, he did.

“Oh yeah, sweetheart, just like that. I like my women feisty.” His grin widened like he was daring me to respond.

“Like you could even handle me,” I muttered, more for myself than him.

“I bet I can,” he replied smoothly, looking me up and down as if he had the right. “What do you say, shall I remove you from those uncomfortable pants once this mission is complete?”

“Perv,” I shot back under my breath, refusing to give him the satisfaction of anything more. The rest of the ride was silent, just how I liked it.

***

The job was straightforward on paper: grab the intel, avoid bloodshed, and get out clean, no killing! And it had gone that way—at least until the alarm screamed its betrayal into the silent halls.

“Run!” he yelled over the chaos.

Adrenaline and pure spite for the man fueled me as we sprinted through the labyrinth of corridors, but it wasn’t enough when I felt the sharp sting in my leg and hit the ground.

My hand reached just above my knee, seeing how the blood started to collor my pants darker. "Fuck!" I yell at the pain. I looked up see Russel coming back.

"Stay down!" he yelled aiming his gun.

The sound of his gun firing shocked me, for a second forgetting about the pain.

"Come on, I got you." he said and before I knew it, he was hauling me up and dragging me to safety. His arm draped around my side while the other held my arm around his broad shoulders.

"Can you walk?" he asked while I looked back over our shoulders to the men lying dead in the hallway. "uhu" I answered agreeing.

***

The ride to the motel was tense, silence heavy except for my ragged breaths. He looked back to where I was sitting in the back. "Keep pressure on that leg!" he ordered.

In other circumstances I'd bit back, knowing how I'm no child and cab take care of myself. But this time I'd be wise and shut my mouth.

***

Russel drops me onto his motel bed before retrieving something out of his car. Something that looks like an home made ER kit.

His hands were steady, no-nonsense, as he stripped off my boots and tore my pants to clean the wound.

“This might hurt a little, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice softer, concerned even. " Are you sure you won't go to a doctor?"

“Been through worse,” I bit back, hiding the way my stomach turned at the pain of him searching for the bullet. My hand clenching the sheets trying to hold my leg still.

***

Once my leg was closed up, stitched and clean he moved me to my bed, visibly relieved.

He handed me a glass of bourbon, sinking into the chair across from the bed. “Reckon you deserve it,” he said quietly.

I drank without answering, the weight of the day settling heavily. Unable to hold the tensed silence. A joke slipped out before I could stop it. “Well, at least you got me out of my pants tonight.”

I felt his eyes scan my bare legs, maybe even a little too long. I've never been self cautious, but his glare made me want to cover up my silk black panties.

But them I heard his laughter, rich and full, echoed around the small room as he leaned back. “Touché,” he replied, shaking his head as though I were an enigma he couldn’t quite solve.

It was too quiet then, the kind of quiet where you could hear truths trying to fight their way to the surface. “Hey, Russel,” I broke the silence, my voice softer. “Why did you shoot to kill?”

“Who said I did?” His answer was quick, his tone flippant.

“Come on. Your aim’s too good to shoot two men dead on accident. And that's a compliment, it's taste horrible on my tongue so take it."

His hand tightened around his glass, his knuckles whitening. “I know it was supposed to be a no-kill mission." he admitted after a pause, looking anywhere but at me.

"But seeing you hurt… it triggered something. I—” His voice wavered, and for once, there wasn’t a trace of smugness. “I admire you, Y/N. Always have.”

He smirks looking at his glass again. "I eh, I asked for a very long time to team us up. Finally they agreed and look at you."

The weight of his words hit like a blow. Admire sounded too much like *more than admire,* but I ignored it, brushing off the warmth pooling low in my stomach.

"It's not your fault." I whisper. "The killing is." he looked me in the eye. I saw disappointment, hurt, flicker briefly across his face.

He moved to stand and poured another glass.

“Hey, Russ, can you help me? I nodded towards the bathroom. He moved on his feet before I even finished the sentence.

As he bent to help me up, I tugged him closer by the back of his neck, crushing my lips to his before I could think better of it. He froze for the briefest moment before relaxing into the kiss, returning it with unguarded intensity.

"Thank you." I murmured against his lips.

When I finally pulled him down onto the bed with me, he braced his hands on either side of my body, staring down like he wasn’t sure this was real. “Don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice rough, his eyes darker.

“You won’t,” I answered, my voice steady despite the heat flooding my veins. "Shaw,” I teased, voice low, “I reckon you deserve this.”

Russel smiled into the kiss, a quiet chuckle rumbling from his chest as his body pressed carefully against mine. His movements were deliberate, slow but confident, as if savoring every moment.

Hiis calloused hand trailed down my side, his touch igniting something inside me that I hadn’t anticipated. When his lips began to explore the curve of my neck, I couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped my lips.

His kisses became more insistent, wandering lower, as his hands skillfully removed the barriers between us—clothing discarded with a confidence that betrayed his experience.

But none of it felt rushed. It felt... intentional. My fingers tangled in his hair, soft and surprisingly silky, scratching lightly along his shoulders. The groan he released sent a shiver through me.

I couldn’t hide my reaction, my heart stuttering in a way I wasn’t used to, not with him. His fingers toyed with the waistband of my remaining clothing, waiting. I bit my lower lip, a silent permission that his sharp eyes immediately caught.

Without a word, he tugged them off, his gaze flicking up to meet mine, ensuring I was still with him.

When I nodded, his lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, the kind that wasn’t steeped in bravado. Then he surprised me—he kissed down my stomach, his movements unhurried and intentional.

This wasn’t what I expected from Russel Shaw.

I always pictured him as arrogant, quick to take, sing a woman for a quick blow leaving in the morning kind of guy, but everything about him now was... giving. Thoughtful.

He moved with purpose, pressing kisses to my skin like he wanted to map every inch of me. And when his head dipped lower and I felt the first deliberate stroke of his tongue, my back arched off the bed.

My mind blurred, my fingers clenching in his hair as sensation overwhelmed me. It wasn’t just what he did—it was how he did it. He took his time, responding to every sound and movement I made, adjusting with a precision I hadn’t thought possible from someone like him.

The low hum of appreciation he released vibrated through me, as though he was savoring me as much as I was unraveling under his touch.

“Russ,” I gasped, unsure if it was a plea or an acknowledgment of the man completely undoing me.

Painkillers had worked well. The throbbing ache in my leg? A distant memory. All that remained was him, his mouth, his touch—completely consuming every shred of thought.

The moment felt endless and too fleeting all at once, his actions so perfectly attuned it left me breathless, every nerve alight. It was intimate in a way I hadn’t thought possible with Russel, leaving me to wonder if I ever truly knew the man at all.

The intensity of Russel's focus was unlike anything I’d ever felt. His fingers teased along my sensitive flesh, their movements deliberate and methodical, sending shockwaves through my body.

The first finger entered, curling and pumping with precision that made my breath hitch, my back arching off the bed. When a second finger joined, then a third, it was too much. The pressure built until I was screaming his name, tugging hard on his hair as my world went white.

His free hand moved to cup my breast, fingers pinching and rolling, heightening every sensation, while his lips and tongue continued their meticulous work. I felt completely undone, laid bare in a way that was both terrifying and electrifying. His hand didn’t falter, carrying me through wave after wave until I was left trembling beneath him.

"You like that, huh? Yeah, I can tell. I can *feel* you," he emphasized the word, grinding slow and deep. “Your body’s so eager for me, so needy… Are going to come, sweetheart?”

I finally reached it and when I came down from the high, Russel climbed up my body, his expression soft but smoldering.

He positioned himself carefully between my legs, but the weight of him had my injured leg shifting. Pain shot through me, and I hissed, sucking in a breath.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his tone almost shy as if he wasn’t the same man who’d just pulled me apart moments ago.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head, “Don’t stop.” The need in my voice surprised me, but it was the truth.

Russel hesitated, his hand grazing my cheek, and I couldn’t help but laugh—bitterly amused at how this man could be such a gentleman when I was lying there, legs wide open for him.

"Say it,” he demanded, his voice a low growl that vibrated against my throat. "Tell me what you need from me. Tell me how bad you want me, Y/N."

“Just fuck me, Russel,” I snapped, desperate now.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, smirking, his voice dropping an octave as he positioned himself.

The first thrust was gentle, almost too careful, as though I might break beneath him. But he still hit that spot with unerring precision, proving once again that Russel knew exactly how to aim.

Each movement after was soft but firm, his rhythm thoughtful, avoiding any aggravation to my injury but still managing to drive me insane. My hips bucked against him, urging him on, desperate for more.

“God,” I gasped as he tangled himself deeper into me, his hands everywhere—on my hips, gripping my shoulders, tracing down my sides. The sheer overwhelming intimacy made me squirm under him, needing him faster, harder.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he muttered against my ear, his voice rough and breathless. "That's it," he groaned as my hips rolled up to meet him.

"Taking me so perfectly. Fuck, Y/N, you were made for this—made for me." He bit down gently on the lobe of my ear, a quiet growl slipping past his lips.

“Russ,” I moaned, the sound half a plea, half surrender. His movements turned sharper, his breathing ragged, his restraint faltering as he gave me what I needed.

As Russel moved against me, each slow, precise thrust sending shockwaves through my body, his lips found my ear. His voice, rough with restraint, brushed against my skin as he murmured.

"You feel so good, sweetheart," he rasped, his breath warm and ragged. "You don't even know what you’re doing to me, do you? Been thinking about this… about you for years."

The depth in his tone sent a shiver straight through me, and my fingers dug into his back, urging him closer.

I let out a whimper in response, my head tilting back, exposing my throat to him. His lips trailed down, pressing against my pulse as his hips snapped just a little harder, dragging a gasp from me.

"Listen to you," he murmured against my skin. "Every noise you make is mine, sweetheart. You sound so fucking beautiful."

His hand slid to the back of my knee, carefully lifting my injured leg to wrap around his waist. He hissed at the change in angle, but his thrusts had me crying out, louder now.

He looked up at me, I could feel him retreat, on instinct I grab his neck and shoulders. Kissing his neck.

“I need you,” I admitted, the words falling unbidden as my back arched and I clutched at him. “I need all of you. I can… I can take a little pain, keep going .”

“That’s my girl,” he said, his voice tinged with smug satisfaction. His fingers gripped my hip tightly as he began thrusting harder, each movement driving deeper and making my body shudder.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he muttered, his tone raw with honesty as if the words had slipped out unguarded. “So tight, so wet. Just for me, huh? You know how crazy that makes me?” His voice cracked slightly, and I could feel his control starting to slip.

He dropped his head to my shoulder, kissing and biting down as his breath hitched. “You’re driving me insane, sweetheart. Can’t hold back much longer… You gonna come for me again? Let me feel you fall apart on my cock.?”

The dirty, guttural edge in his voice sent me spiraling. My nails dragged down his back as my body tensed, his name falling from my lips like a prayer. The words didn’t stop, his encouragement turning filthy as he coaxed me through the final push.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, feeling me clamp down around him. “Let go. Let me hear you scream my name, yeah? You feel so fucking good, Y/N. Come on baby girl, milk me.”

I fell apart beneath him, and his own release followed quickly, the sounds of his pleasure mingling with mine. Even as we tangled together, spent and breathless, his lips pressed soft words against my temple.

My body tightened around him, every nerve electrified, and as he ground into me one last time, stars burst behind my eyes. His groan, low and guttural, reached me as I felt him lose control, his body trembling as we came together.

For a moment, the room was silent except for our heavy breathing. Russel stayed above me, his arms trembling slightly from holding himself up. Finally, he collapsed onto the bed beside me, pulling me into his chest, careful of my leg.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he murmured against my hair, his voice warm and surprisingly soft.

“Yeah,” I replied, still catching my breath. “I guess… you weren’t just bragging when you said you could handle me.”

He chuckled, low and satisfied, brushing his fingers down my arm.

***

The buzzing of Russels phone on the night stand woke me.

The morning felt colder than it should have and still the memories of last night warmth my chest. I could still feel the ghost of Russel’s touch, the intimacy of last night lingering on my skin, but it clashed with an icy feeling gnawing at the back of my mind.

I hopped out of bed and walked to the bathroom. My leg ached as I cleaned the wound, trying to focus on something tangible—anything to drown out the vulnerable warmth still blooming in my chest.

When Russel walked in behind me, his presence was an instant shift in the air. I could feel him watching me as I dabbed at the stitches.

"I could have done that," he said, his voice still husky from sleep.

"I know, but you were sleeping," I snapped back, harsher than I intended. There was an edge of defense to it, and I immediately bit my tongue.

Russel frowned but said nothing, instead leaning forward to press a kiss to my temple. I froze.

He pulled back with a quiet sigh. "I guess we need to head back to HQ soon," he muttered before disappearing into the shower, leaving me standing there with my mind spinning.

"Yeah, I guess."

I clutched the counter, my reflection staring back at me with wide, confused eyes. The kiss—it wasn’t like him. Russel Shaw wasn’t gentle, wasn’t... soft. Was he? The warmth stirred in my chest again, and my heart fluttered against my better judgment.

Stop it. He’s Russel Shaw. He doesn’t do this. But he was soft last night. Only because you where hurt. Or wasn't that it?

Did he... made love to me?

I couldn’t help the thought that maybe,just maybe, I wasn’t just another notch on his bedpost. Maybe last night had meant something to him too.

He said he admired me... I tried to push the idea aside, determined to keep my head clear. But I felt like a love sick puppy.

Then I heard it again. The soft chime.

My gaze darted to where Russel’s phone rested on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with another message. The room was quiet except for the sound of the shower running, and I shouldn’t have looked. I knew better, but curiosity was a demanding thing.

I limped over, trying not to jostle my leg too much, and hesitated before tapping the screen. A preview of notifications slid into view.

**5 missed calls. 3 texts.**

My chest tighten.

Reenie:

*"I tried to call you."*

*"Don’t ignore me, Russ"*

*"Russel, come home."*

That last text hit me like a fist to the stomach.

Home.

The word clawed at my throat, choking me. Home meant someone waiting for him. Someone he had obligations to. A wife? A girlfriend?

I stumbled back, bile rising in my throat. The warmth from last night shattered into cold, piercing clarity. I felt like a fool—a stupid, naive fool. The intimacy, the softness, the connection I thought we had... all of it felt like a cruel joke.

He had someone else. Someone he was going back to while I was daydreaming about something more, while now left with nothing but guilt and regret.

My chest tightened painfully as humiliation crashed over me. I had fallen for his charm, let myself be vulnerable. And now, I was a mistake he’d leave behind while going back to his perfect life.

Tears blurred my vision as I grabbed my bag and threw it over my shoulder, my injured leg protesting with every movement. I needed to get out of here. Now. Before he could come out of that bathroom, flashing that perfect, crooked smile, and tell me another lie.

I yanked open the door and hobbled into the hallway, every step feeling heavier than the last. I barely noticed the stares as I boarded the first bus I could find, not even bothering to look at where it was heading.

All I knew was I had to escape—from him, from my feelings, from this mess. The tears spilled over as I slumped into a seat, clutching my bag like it was the only thing anchoring me to reality.

I felt stupid. Stupid for thinking I could be more to someone like Russel Shaw.

And worse, stupid for still hoping, deep down, that I was wrong.

--

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[radioactivepeasant]

Surprise Snippet Sunday (Part One)

(Father's Day silliness. For context, this comes from an au I haven't posted, where Spargus invaded Haven at the end of Jak 2. Someone tipped off Damas about the time loop, but they'd initially expected Jak to be older because he got through the Tomb. First face-to-face meeting didn't go over well, Jak just came off a week of 80% of the adults in his life betraying him. Also features @sparguscityangel 's character, Ru (first seen in Over Haven's Wall) and her family, who Jak crashes with sometimes because Abuela said he wasn't going to stay outside and Abuela is Always Right)

(Ru and Jak have encountered Damas in the boiler room of the old Westside Hotel, working with Vin to restore water filters in the slums)

Damas shifted on the ladder and looked down at the computer.

"Alright, Vin. Let's see if that's got it."

Under his breath he muttered,

"And if it didn't, I have an excuse to stay down here longer."

"You need an excuse?" asked Jak incredulously.

"Kid-" Damas made a face and corrected himself. "Jak, I either fix something or go kill something, and the latter is not conducive to relief efforts."

"How long are your people going to be here?"

Jak wondered if he needed to start planning for when the Wastelanders left and there was no one to keep these changes from coming undone.

"We stay," Damas quietly replied, "until I feel I can trust this territory with a regent. I stay until I am able to leave this place with my son."

Uncomfortable, Jak pushed his hood back and rubbed his face.

"Look-"

Why couldn't he have had Daxter here? Daxter would've known what to say.

"I...don't know you. It's not like...your fault, but-"

This was a strange concession to make, and this warlord probably wouldn't appreciate it if he knew Jak was doing it out of pity.

"Man, I can't even be in rooms without windows too long before I have to run. Gonna be a while before new faces stop making me nervous."

Damas immediately clocked a very important detail in the confession.

"You're not going to be in here long, are you?"

Jak tried to ignore that undercurrent of pain in the man's voice. The guilt swam up from the depths of his mind, ready to sink its claws into handholds long drilled into place by Samos. The need to reassure an adult, be their protector. Sacrifice his own feelings of security or mental health to spare the feelings of someone older.

Part of him was trying to tell him to stay. To give up and let this stranger tell him what to do because that's what heros did, they listened to their elders.

Jak wasn't that obedient little kid anymore. He was his own man, and even if he felt bad for Sig's friend, he wasn't going to set himself on fire to keep a stranger warm. Not anymore.

"Yeah, this room's...not great." Jak shrugged. "Also me and Ru were kind of trying to get some food when your buddies showed up, so."

Damas grimaced. "I apologize. And I'm...sorry about the ambush. Before, I mean. Sig was near frantic by that point."

"Okay yeah, you know what," Jak frowned. "What was all that with "training" and "Federation law" or whatever it was you said?"

Damas leaned over the ladder, seeming to ignore Jak's question at first.

"Well, Vin?"

"Not operating at 100%, but sediment levels are 90% lower than before!" the data ghost called happily.

"Well, that's one thing to go right today, at least," Damas remarked. He groaned and climbed down the ladder before looking up at Jak.

"That is a...difficult thing to explain without getting long-winded, I'm afraid. Perhaps the next time I see you, circumstances will be more accommodating for longer conversations."

The next time.

He wasn't going to stop Jak from leaving.

Part surrender, part leap of faith.

And partly a recognition of a need Jak had expressed.

"Uh...okay." Jak slid down off the pipes and side stepped to Ru. He firmly ignored the raised eyebrow he got when he laced his fingers through hers.

"Oh- wait!"

Damas held up a hand suddenly.

"There was a reason I still had people looking for you-"

He knelt to poke around in a shadowy recess beneath the pipes a moment before coming up with a familiar weapon.

"Sig wasn't fast enough to give this back to you that night -- and I was in no state to even remember it existed. But you shouldn't be tearing around a city like this unarmed."

Jak blinked. All that fuss and chasing...to give him his gun back?

As though he were reading Jak's thoughts, Damas grimaced and held the gun out, stock first.

"To a Wastelander, your weapon is an extension of yourself. A new module reflects a new skill learned or a new experience survived."

The grimace became a bittersweet smile.

"You've...already earned all three of the traditional ones. Says a lot about you."

"Says I have to fight a lot," Jak grumbled.

"And," Damas replied, "it tells me that you're a survivor. A weapon like this isn't the kind of thing you trust to a random individual to take back to its owner. It needed to be done in-person."

"You could've just said that," Jak pointed out. It was hypocritical, and he knew it. He was no paragon of "talk before you act" himself.

Damas rubbed his forehead -- wincing slightly when he touched the red spot where he'd slammed into the pipe. "If I may speak in my own defense," he said with the slightest touch of humor, "there has been a lot going on."

Jak was quiet for several uncomfortable seconds, just staring at him. Then he shrugged and took the gun back.

"Fair enough, I guess."

Damas watched them start to look for the path back to the door with a barely disguised sadness.

"Be-"

Jak turned his head with a questioning look, and Damas winced.

"Be careful out there. Stay out of the Fortress area."

"I'm fine." Jak squeezed Ru's hand a little tighter. "I know every street and passage in this hellhole. They've never caught me yet."

"You don't know every passage," Damas scoffed, and a bit of the sadness left him.

"And I suppose you do," Jak retorted, rather rashly. The grin he got in response confirmed it.

"No you don't. City's changed," he argued.

Damas’s grin got wider. "I can get to the Underport without going through the flooded section."

"Bull!" Jak snorted.

Now the man was starting to remind him of Sig a little more. There were worse things.

Damas studied him for a second, then muffled a snort.

"Tell you what, kid: pick a day. You beat me to the Underport, I have to show you the secret way in and out. If I beat you, you have to explain the orange guy."

"Wh- Daxter?"

Damas turned slightly, and Jak and Ru just barely heard him mutter, "I knew his name wasn't Chili!"

Ru and Jak exchanged glances. Well, he wasn't stopping them. And he was letting Jak set the terms for their next encounter. That was more than most people gave him.

"Alright, fine." Jak folded his arms and raised his chin. "When I pick a day, you'll know."

"And how, exactly, will I know?"

This time it was Jak who had the ominous grin. One Samos and Torn had long since learned to fear.

"Trust me. You'll know."

[pastelwitchling]

Prompt: Alex is limping but for once it is not because of his leg or Alex Manes deserves having his back blown out by his husbad on the regular.

@joaneteporis

Can you do one where Michael notices Alex limping really bad and thinks his leg is acting up, but in reality he's limping because Michael made love to him really hard the night before and his ass hurts. He doesn't want to make Michael feel bad, so he pretends it's his leg. But eventually Michael finds out the truth. I'm a big fan of your stories. Love these two together. ❤

***

Alex was limping more than usual, and Michael had noticed.

He’d first picked up on it when Alex had come to visit him at the junkyard with lunch from the Crashdown. Michael had groaned at the sight and took Alex’s waist in his hands. “Damn, that looks good.” He shrugged a shoulder. “The food, too.”

Alex snickered, trying to cut off the giggles before they came, but it was too late. Michael’s smile widened as he nuzzled Alex’s jaw, drinking in the sound. No one else could do this, he thought with pride that flooded his chest. No one else could make Alex so carefree. The haunted soldier giggling? Yeah, only for Michael to do, sorry.

“You’re such a dork,” Alex said, his cheeks flushed as he brushed the stubble on Michael’s cheek with his free hand as he always liked to do. “I don’t like you working in this heat, come on, come sit with me. We can eat before I have to head back.”

Michael agreed, and his smile fell the second he saw Alex continue to limp. Sometimes when he got out of the car and he’d been driving for a while after a particularly tough few hours at work, his leg tended to ache, but Michael walked behind him, studying his husband. His limp was way more pronounced, and his brow pinched with very step like the pain was too much to ignore this time. In seconds, he was at Alex’s side, taking his free arm and holding most of his weight.

 Alex blinked. “What’re you doing?”

“Helping,” Michael grunted. “Your limp’s getting worse.”

“Oh,” Alex said, then to Michael’s surprise, he smiled and blushed. “I-I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to pretend for me,” Michael said. “Here, sit down,” and he eased him onto the steps leading up to the trailer, and knelt between his legs, running his hands up and down Alex’s thighs.

Alex chuckled, setting down the bag and cupping Michael’s face. “Baby, I’m fine. Trust me.”

“Are they working you too hard over there again?” Michael growled. “Do I need to talk to Ramos?”

Alex scoffed. “I really have no desire whatsoever to see my husband throw my boss out a twelve-story window, Michael. It’d make going back to work very awkward.”

Michael rested his chin on Alex’s good knee. “I don’t want anyone taking advantage of you.”

“No one’s taking advantage of me.”

“It’s not your fault you’re a genius.”

Alex’s shoulders shook with his laughter. “Oh the burden.”

“They can’t put you on that damn elite floor if they’re just going to make you use the stairs!”

“They’re not making me use the stairs.”

“You’re a different circumstance, Alex, there’s nothing wrong with that!”

Alex looked like he was holding back another laugh. “I know.”

“If they’re pushing you even though they know about your leg—”

“Guerin, it’s not their fault I’m limping,” Alex said, his words coated in quiet laughter. “It’s yours.”

Michael frowned, standing straight on his knees. “What do you mean?” Had he made the ground tremble again without realizing it? Had his powers lashed out and he’d made Alex trip without noticing? Had his alien side come after Alex again and—Michael was sick at the thought—hurt his husband? But then, why would Alex say it with such joy in his eyes? He knew how much Michael hated himself whenever his powers lashed out, so was he just trying to ease the blow?

“Remember two nights ago?” Alex asked, and Michael’s brow furrowed. He shook his head, about to ask what he had done two nights ago that had . . .

Then he remembered. It had been a heated night, the two having been separated because of a three-day work trip Alex had taken. When he’d gotten back, Michael’s hunger and fear at having been away from him had overtaken him, and he’d had Alex naked and in bed minutes after picking him up at the bus station. He’d been a wild animal, the entire night dedicated to thrusting into Alex, burying himself inside his husband and refusing to move for hours. He still felt Alex’s nail marks in his back whenever he moved, a delicious sting that made him hard all over again. A pleased, happy smile was tugging at his lips at the memory when he realized . . .

His eyes widened, and Alex saw the moment the answer hit him, and he burst into the laughter which he’d been holding. Michael, meanwhile, was still gaping. “I-I . . . because I . . .”

“Got it right, baby,” Alex sighed, long and deep, and pressed a loud, smacking kiss to Michael’s forehead.

“It’s my fault,” he murmured, eyes wide and on Alex’s leg.

“Yeah,” Alex said, as though the pain pleased him. “Although, I don’t know if you would’ve had me limping if I’d still had my whole leg, but,” he shrugged, “I’m not complaining.”

Michael’s eyes darkened. He growled, “Oh, believe me, Private, I’d have you limping—what am I saying? I don’t want you to limp at all!”

Alex slid his hands into Michael’s curls and pulled him in, lowering his own head to slot their mouths together. “I love it,” he breathed against Michael’s lips the second they pulled back. “I love the feeling of my thighs burning, I love the way my whole body aches because you held onto me that tightly. Every time I sit down,” he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of Michael’s ear, and whispered, “I can feel you, deep inside me.”

He leaned back again and Michael, dazed, followed him until Alex was sitting against the door and smiling innocently. “So don’t you dare feel bad. Now.” He held up the Crashdown bag. “You hungry?”

And he proceeded to unload the bag, laying out to-go box after box, while Michael was stuck staring at him, unable to remove his gaze.

“Are you trying to kill me now?”

Alex’s grin widened and he winked at Michael before holding a forkful of pasta up to his lips. “Open up. You’ll need your strength for the rest of the day.”

“Why?” Michael grumbled. “I’m not the one whose whole body hurts right now.”

“No,” he agreed, and his smile hinted at something dark. “But your back still stings, doesn’t it?”

Michael groaned. Alex really was trying to kill him, just by making his heart burst out of his chest. Something, in turn, that Michael knew only he could do. He supposed that made them even.

[olderthannetfic]

So I've been back at school since last summer and it's really given me a new understanding of many of the things people rant about on here so i'd just like to share.

For context, i essentially got held back by 2 years due to circumstances so i'm 19 now and the people in my class are around 17 on average. It isn't much of a gap at all but with me being pretty out of touch with mainstream internet culture and everything (plus just having been through things that have forced me to grow up a bit quicker anyway) it feels like a lot sometimes.

Anyway, here's some things i noticed:

While none of them are all that into fandom, on the occasion we do talk about ships (or real life relationships) i often have to bite my tongue. It's the usual "shipping x and y is icky because [insert whatever petty anti argument]", but also they'll talk shit about people their age being in a relationship with someone like two years younger than them. Meanwhile I'm sitting there daydreaming about my boyfriend who's 7 years older than me. And yeah sure the younger you are the bigger the difference that one or two years make, but come on, a 15 year old and a 17 year old dating is like... the most normal thing ever.

What really tends to get under my skin is how they're (sometimes blatantly) ableist in ways they don't even realise while claiming allyship. A lot stems from just ignorance, for instance we read "The Perks of being a Wallflower" at some point and as we were discussing the characters, the vast majority absolutely hated on Charlie. Being autistic with a lot of mental health issues, i related to his awkwardness and his struggles a lot myself. I just sat there silently as they pointed out what i saw as autistic traits and said things like "he's just so weird" and "nobody acts like that" or even "i hate him, he's a psycho and should be institutionalised".

In the same vein, the one classmate i feel is actually quite similar to me (and suspect is neurodivergent, though it doesn't seem like they know it) has called autism a "debilitating illness" and doesn't seem to have any problem with their friend group using "autistic" as a semi-insult. This classmate otherwise has a fairly good understanding of everything, i've ranted with them about the autsim speaks rhetoric and things like that. (I will say, i'm sure they'd stop if i told them I'm autistic but so far i couldn't be bothered to)

Oh yeah and there was that one time one of my classmates deadass argued that my teacher was being racist for saying they had an accent. They do have an accent. Everybody has an accent in their second language unless they learned it super young. Which was the topic we were talking about.

For the most part, i like my classmates. A lot of them are great people. But jesus fucking christ then they keep pulling shit like this. I'm sure at least some of them will grow out of it sooner or later, it's just crazy to me because they're only 2-ish years younger than me yet there just seems to be this huge gap between us sometimes. I'm not saying i'm the definition of maturity. On the contrary, I'm definitely still a kid, just one that's allowed more autonomy now. They just make me feel like a parent listening to their kids going "wtf are you talking about" sometimes.

--

[shadowlflightt]

FCK. OKAY. Last reblog, got me so bad. Oh no. okay.

Eggman has stuck sonic in a box before and he can do it again. But this time, with a goal other than simply keeping him out of his hair. One incentivized by a distinct lack of running wheel and other means of stimulation. the stimulation in question, being none other than Shadow th hedgehog, who finds himself stuck with sonic inside one very romantically furnished room.

The two glare into the camera after eggman finishes cackling his pre-meditated victory laughs and proudly guffawing over getting the two of them locked up together in here and the first place and, okay yeah that was pretty stupid of them.

Both hedgehogs look into the Camera from where Eggman watches them. Eyeing the fluffy, pink and purple bedding and romantically furnished room, more fit for a princess than a couple of prisoners, with confusion.

"Hey, what kind of a cage is this, Egghead?" Sonic asks, jabbing a thumb as the room.

Sonic and Shadow bicker with eggman for a bit, taunting him for his cliche choices in furnishings and colors. The heart shaped pillows with yes and no on them, the rose petals on the floor, silk sheets, and scented candles really arent subtle. But while Sonic and Shadow are going through every nook and cranny of their holding cell for weaknesses or holes, thy make the mistake of opening the closet across from the bed to find it filled to the brim with sex toys, whips, blindfolds, floggers, harnesses and restraints.

Sonic shuts it as quickly as he can, but theyre both awkward and red faced for a while afterwords.

Three hours of fruitless searching later, they lie on the carpet and stare up at the ceiling together.

“Well, looks like we might be in here for a while.” Sonic says with a yawn. “At least

"Well at least eggmans too stupid to realize we're both boys. Even if we did try and boink, its not like eithe rof us is getting pregnant anytime soon"

". . .Right." Shadow says, warily after some time.

"Shadow.." Sonic says, sitting up and staring at him suspiciously.

“. . .” Shadow says nothing, just turns over onto his side and lets his gaze slide farther down the wall.

When shadow doesn't answer, chewing his lip where sonic cant see, Sonic goes. "Oh god. Have you secretly been a girl all this time?!"

And that, of course, is just enough stupidity to enrage shadow into rolling back up into a sit to bark a harsh and quick "Of course not!" at him.

"Well then why are you getting so cagey about it?!"

"Because I’m still capable of creating offspring with you! With anyone, for that matter." shadow snapped, his face flushing a bit at his outburst.

And sonics eyes go wide.

Shadow tsks and turns away, cheeks coloring further.

Maybe eggman knew more about them than Sonic gave him credit for.

"If you start treating me like some meek fragile woman after this, I'll kill you."

"Wait wait wait hold up. Rewind. You… can reproduce with me, even though youre still a boy?"

Shadow rolled his eyes as hard as he possibly could. "You are such an ignorant fool, I could blast miles of chaos energy to choke you to death."

"Hey, just because I didn't know that you were secretly harbouring some cool chaos control baby making abilities doesnt mean I'm dumb. How was I supposed to know that was even possible?!"

"For fucks sake-- Must I spell everything out for you?"

"Yes. Thats literally what ive been asking you to do this whole time."

"There are several species on of your own homeland that posses both more than one, or soemtimes both means of sexual reproduction. I'm no rarity. "

"Huh. I never knew. Wait you can do What Now?!"

Shadow sighed, long and suffering. Pulling his knees to his chest. "This wasnt exactly information I was planning on telling anyone."

And it was understandbale. Even sonic didnt need to be told why shadow the hedgehog, of all people, wasnt exactly loud and proud with this.

"Look man. Under normal circumstances, there is no way I'd ever, EVER, not in a million years, be interrogating anybody on their baby making skills. But if we can't find a way outta here in time, and eggman decides to do something we dont exactly see coming, well. I'm gonna need to know what the risks are here."

Shadow gave him a long, pondering look. Sitting in silence for a long moment.

"As you know, professor Gerald robotnik designed me to be a weapon. The Ultimate lifeform, to be used by G.U.N. as they saw fit. Eventually G.U.N. themselves deemed my existence too great of a risk, and sought to contain me for fear I would not be sufficiently under their control. That I would be too powerful. Too much of a risk."

Sonic gave single nod, showing he was following. Resisting the urge to scoot a little closer to Shadow.

"One of the deciding factors in their decision was Gerald Robotniks choice of implemented sex organs." Shadow gave a weary sigh, completely breaking his gaze off from Sonics.

"Apparantly GUN did not like the idea of me having the ability to reproduce at all. Deeming the possibility of creating more than one immortal, all powerful entity too great a risk. But gerald was adamant, that if he made life, he would make sure to give that life as much freedom and opportnity as anyone else."

And, agsinst his own expectations, Sonic heard rage come through his voice before he realized it was happening. "Youre telling me, they killed your family and imprisoned you for 50 years… because Gerald wanted to give you the choice to make a family?!"

And Shadows gaze dirfts back to him in something soft and surprised. but he stays collected, and says. "Yes."

And sonic stands up and grits his teeth and lets out an honest to god growl and has to go on a fucking rant or do something or punch eggmans stupid heart shaped yes or no pillows to let out the rage

"Thats-- Thats! Thats fucking sick! what the fuck!!"

and shadow isnt used to angry being angry for him before, the sight strangely comforting.

"Im sorry but man that is so. Fcked up!! Gerald was right, you DO deserve to be able to have that chance and live your life the way anyone else might want to, Fuck that shit! AUGH!!! i CANT BELIEVE!!!"

And shadow has to let him get it out but once sonics done, shadow goes "Thank you." All glad and respectful and there isnt any windows but sonic feels like the sun is shining into his eyes too much and has to look away. "Ah, uh. yeah man. Of course!" Hands on his hips.

"So, what exactly did gerald.. give you?" Sonic says.

"A lot. I am capable of several methods of reproduction, both sexual and nonsexual." Shadow starts. "The asexual reproduction methods are taken from the black arms heritage I posses. But the sexual ones, are directly taken from both Mobians genders."

"Which means…"

"I have the ability to both fertilize eggs, as well as carry a baby to term."

Sonics eyes blew wide, again.

"You can get pregnant?!"

"It's not exactly something I've tried to do before, but yes."

"Oh man." sonic groaned. "So he wants me… to…"

"Yes." Shadow looked to the ground, crossing his arms.

Sonic hid his face. "guess we'll have to think of some ways to keep each other apart, in the case that Eggman tries something weird."

"mm."

After a long pause.

"So uh. Do you mind if i ask… uh,"

"Just spit it out already."

"okay okay. I just. How do you… If Eggman did, somehow, make us wanna… yknow. How exactly would he-- Would i…"

"I possess both sets of genitals, as well as a womb."

"Woah."

idk idk. takes this and immediately makes new fic out of it. resists the urge to not update current fics in favor of this.

Eventually eggman WOULD release some dumb horny pheromoan into the air that'd make one or both of them desperate and deranged enough to do it, but there'd be such a good feefees build up to that to get there.

And then even more when they snap out of that and shadow is, of course, freshly pregnant. and both of them are just kind of ashamed and mortified esp since they dont really feel as bad about it as they shouldve.

Shadow more or less imeddiately quells sonics guilt by telling him he enjoyed it, even if he isnt exactly looking forward to this pregnancy which. Is incredibly brave and sweet of him to do, going as far as to hint or outright subtly incline that hes got feelings for sonic already-- Just to comfort him.

and it probably helps sonic not feel like a fucking monster and it works and the least he can do is actually confront shadows feelings on it. Telling him hes gonna get them outta there and whatever happens, he'll spport shadow no matter what.

And god then theyd probably end up inevitably falling in love.

Shadow eventually gets a test that turns out positive, because of course it does,

And as the two of them go stir crazy and fall in love in that stupid little room together, they probably end up having sex again. If not because its nice then because theyr eboth pent up and its not like shadows gonna get more pregnant than he is already-- And its just a mtter of time from there before Sonic tips into his own stupid confession. Scared as always of romance more than anything else.

[sairaverse]

Hey Pellow, hope you're doing great. I recently found your blog and it has been so inspiring, I read your posts almost everyday either for motivation or just for funsies. So thanks so much for being so clear.

I had a question based on something personal happening with me and I wanted your opinion. So I understand that negative thoughts about my specific manifestation should be flipped and that circumstances don't matter. I completely get that, the thing is I don't have negative thoughts about my manifestation, I don't contradict them, HOWEVER, I have negative thoughts about other things like stuff ppl would've done or said to me in the past (unrelated to my manifestation), so I guess I'm asking if that would affect it even though I believe that it wouldnt. But is that related to self concept?

I also wanted your opinion because I like how you relate manifestation to your religion, I'm a Catholic, but I do have a strong appreciation for the Muslim religion and try to understand it as much as possible, so yeah let me know if what I said makes sense.

Thank you ❀(*´▽`*)❀♡

oh hii! this is so interesting actually I had to sit and think with this one for a while ♡♡ so I personally think it does not affect literally anything that has to do with your desire, unless it makes you think you cant have them. and the reason why I think this is because;

I held myself back for a while trying so hard to make myself the perfect confident baddie bombshell hottie that the community told me to be. I was like 13 and trying so hard to be everything I'm not, however I always felt numb to my desires. I didn't think I couldn't get them but I didn't think of myself as god (obviously, I'm muslim) nor did I think I was some queen. before I had even changed my appearance, a lot of people perceived me as pretty, lots of girls would talk behind my back and dislike me out of jealousy. and it made me realize who I am in other peoples eyes. I have autism so it was hard for me to perceive myself. Until I realized I can just create someone and become them. A lot of people perceived me as confident and pretty and bubbly. but I saw myself as someone dull and stoic. because thats who I really was, I just put on a show infront of my friends and peers (this sounds like a vent but bear with me girl I promise it'll make sense) I realized that I was never insecure, I was always confident and comfortable with myself. I just didn't think of myself as some high and almighty being.

the internet tells you that you're god and you're a queen and people should bow down and kiss your feet. which is cool, if you're into that khalas. however I think that can lead you to arrogance which can cause you to sin (I am not trying to impose limiting belief I am saying personal experiences from a religious person) confidence can look like being numb to people who suggest you're something lower, confidence can look like ignoring bad thoughts about yourself. confidence can literally just be yourself being an existing being. Because you don't need to all day everyday act like you're the shit and you're better than everyone if you don't want to. the negative thoughts I used to tell myself even before realizing I was perceived as someone I should be, NEVER interrupted my life experiences. it never imposed on my manifestations, friendships, appearance, none of it. Because as humans we have ups and downs. we go through phases, we go through hate cycles. and thats OKAY. literally there is nothing wrong with hating yourself for 2 hours and then thinking you're the shit its OK. we, (especially as women) go through conflicting feelings all the time throughout the day. Where am I trying to go with this? self concept doesn't matter and it honestly never has. it all just goes back to the state you dwell on. YOU give meanings to states YOU give meanings to thoughts however its always netural. so if you think about the past, and be like "oh well maybe I couldn't" thats okay...because you still can. the self concept part comes automatically, after you keep affirming and telling yourself you have something your mind will finally click and be like "wait I'm goated" the law always works. You arent above the law sweetie. one opposing thought doesn't cancel out a dominant state.

its like this-> 𐀪 thinking "netural thought"

𐀪 thinks a thought that opposes it "netural thought canceler"

𐀪 continues with its day and decides to keep thinking "netural thought"

whatever state you TURN TO again and again will manifest. THATS THE LAW I'm so sorry if this was long and confusing and dumb but the short answer is no, it will not affect your manifestation. we do not need to be in "high vibrations" 24/7 we just need to say "I have it" and keep saying that over and over. ciao+kisses! -pellow ♪(^∇^*)

[kangshxrtie]

Thirteen | Kim Chaewon

"I want you to be ruined, I won't hold you You were my yesterday" - 한(一) (HANN (Alone)) by (G)I-DLE

y/n y/l/n are we still hanging out tdy?

huh yunjin (01) omg baby i hv to finish sum writing w chaewon

y/n y/l/n ofc u do that's fine. i'll js find sum else to do then

huh yunjin (01) don't be mad i'll make it up to u i swear

y/n y/l/n k.

you sat on a bench outside the library, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, trying to ignore the bitter feeling bubbling in your chest. this wasn't new. yunjin blowing you off at the last minute? normal. yunjin blowing you off for chaewon? even more normal.

you took a deep breath, telling yourself you didn't care. you already knew the truth. you weren't mad—you were just over it.

just as you were about to put your phone away, the sound of approaching footsteps made you look up. and, of course, it had to be her.

kim chaewon.

"oh, hey y/n," she greeted, her tone light, but her eyes sharp as she slid onto the bench beside you, uninvited.

you didn't respond, just locked your phone and slipped it into your pocket.

she tilted her head, a small smirk forming on her lips. "didn't know you had classes in this building."

"i don't," you replied flatly. "just needed a place to sit before meeting up with someone."

"oh? who?" she asked, feigning curiosity.

"not important. i was just about to leave, though," you said, shifting as if to stand.

chaewon hummed, clearly unbothered. "well, i was just about to meet up with yunjin... for the project, of course."

you almost rolled your eyes. she knows.

"oh, that's nice," you replied, voice carefully even.

"yeah, just some finishing touches left, but we're pretty much done."

you glanced at her. "okay? have fun, then."

"i'll let her know i saw you out here," chaewon smiled.

you leaned back slightly, a smirk of your own forming. "oh, and while you're at it, let her know i'm about to meet up with nien. we've still got a bit to work on too."

something flickered across chaewon's face, but she recovered quickly. "i'll do that," she said smoothly.

before you could respond, her phone buzzed. she glanced at the screen, and just like that, her smirk deepened. you didn't need to ask who it was.

"well, i gotta go," she said, standing up and stretching. then, with one last look at you, she added, "just make sure you and nien stay focused on the project, like me and yunjin are."

you watched as she walked away, leaving you alone. once this is over, they'd regret ever thinking you were stupid.

you sat there for a few moments, still processing the interaction, disbelief settling in like a heavy weight on your chest. did that really just happen?

before you could spiral any further, your phone buzzed.

seoyeon 🐶u wanna hang out with me and dahyun?

perfect timing. you needed a distraction after whatever chaewon just did to you.

without hesitation, you grabbed your things and headed to meet them. the second you walked in and spotted them at the table, you wasted no time sitting down.

"god, i fucking hate chaewon," you grumbled, slamming your phone down on the table.

seoyeon and dahyun, who had just walked in, exchanged confused looks before seoyeon asked, "what did chaewon do?"

"she's just a fucking bitch, and i wouldn't usually say that about another woman, but she pisses me off so much," you huffed, crossing your arms.

"i know she's a little goofy, but i wouldn't go as far as to call her a bitch," seoyeon said, raising an eyebrow.

"oh, trust me, she is," you insisted.

dahyun tilted her head. "what did she do to make you feel this way?"

"i can't get into it right now, but let's just not associate with her."

seoyeon hesitated before sighing. "look, i'd love to support you on this if you're serious, but i don't know if we can just cut chaewon off, considering our circumstances."

you blinked, finally realizing they thought you were talking about the chaewon in your friend grou, also one of their roommates.

"no, not our chaewon," you clarified quickly. "i hate kim chaewon."

their confusion only deepened; you forgot they even had the same surname.

"as in our senior chaewon, the one in my videography group," you added. "not the strawberry farmer y'all live with," you finished hoping that cleared everything up.

"the chaewon in my videography group," you added. "not strawberry farmer chaewon."

both of them exhaled in relief, "oh, thank god. i thought our whole friend group was over," dahyun muttered, placing a hand over her heart.

"be more specific next time," seoyeon scolded.

"it's not my fault they have the exact same name," you argued, throwing your hands up.

"that is true," dahyun leaned back in her chair.

"anyways, how have y'all's day been?" you finally asked, deciding to shift the focus away from yourself for now.

"i did nothing today, so it's been pretty nice," dahyun told you.

"i mean, i had work early this morning and a class, but it wasn't terrible," seoyeon added with a shrug.

you nodded, absentmindedly spinning your phone on the table. "sounds like a solid day."

"i see yours hasn't been great, though. would you like to share with the class?" dahyun pressed, raising an eyebrow.

you exhaled, shaking your head. "not really, but give me a couple of days, and i'll tell you everything."

dahyun scoffed. "you're hyping this up so much. i need to know what your drama is."

"oh, trust," you smirked, leaning in slightly. "it won't disappoint."

seoyeon and dahyun exchanged looks before dahyun sighed dramatically. "fine, i'll wait. but if it's not the messiest shit i've ever heard, i'm gonna be so mad."

seoyeon chuckled. "we'll hold you to that."

you simply smiled to yourself, knowing that when the time came, they'd have a lot to say.

huh yunjin (01) are u done being mad? can we talk now

don't ignore me yk that annoys me

y/n y/l/n i wasn't. i was busy hanging out with seoyeon & dahyun

huh yunjin (01) are u mad at me?

y/n y/l/n no. why would i be?

huh yunjin (01) cause ur using periods

y/n y/l/n a period ends a sentence.

huh yunjin (01) see?? that's exactly what i'm talking about

y/n y/l/n what are you talking about?

huh yunjin (01) you're being dry u never text like this

y/n y/l/n i'm literally just texting normally.

huh yunjin (01) no ur not u mad fr, aren't u?

y/n y/l/n i told u i'm not mad.

huh yunjin (01) then why does it feel like u are? 😭 did i do something?

y/n y/l/n yunjin. i'm not mad.

huh yunjin (01) then prove it. let's call

y/n y/l/n i'm literally walking home huh yunjin (01) and? ur phone still works js call me for like 5 secs pls

y/n y/l/n fine. one sec.

huh yunjin (01) that's my baby

"hello?" you answered when yunjin picked up.

"wow, you actually called. i honestly thought you were just gonna leave me hanging," she teased.

you exhaled slowly, already regretting this. "you were being annoying, so i figured i'd call before you flooded my phone with even more texts."

yunjin laughed, light and carefree, like nothing was wrong. "see? you do sound mad."

you stared at the wall, biting your tongue. "oh my god, i'm not mad."

"mhmm... sounds like something a mad person would say," she said in that playful tone she always used.

"yunjin."

"okay, okay, i'll stop. but for real, are you sure you're good?" she asked, her voice softening.

good? never. you wanted to say instead, you forced out a casual, "i was just busy. seoyeon and dahyun wanted to hang out, and i didn't want to be glued to my phone the whole time."

yunjin gasped dramatically. "you mean to tell me i'm not your top priority at all times?"

"unfortunately, no." you kept your voice light, even though your grip on the phone tightened. "but don't worry, you'll live."

"ugh, barely. my heart shattered a little, but i'll survive," she sighed dramatically.

you let out a small chuckle. "you're so dramatic."

"see, this is why i was blowing up your phone," she said, her voice soft and warm. "i miss you."

"i miss you too," you murmured, the words feeling hollow as they left your lips.

"you do? say it again," she grinned through the phone.

you swallowed down the bitterness rising in your throat. "no."

yunjin whined. "okay, okay, i'll let you go... but don't you dare ignore me like that again. or i'll show up at your place unannounced."

"sounds like a threat," you said with a small laugh.

"it is a threat. love you though," she said, and it almost sounded real. almost.

"love you too," you replied, even though you weren't sure if you meant it anymore.

"awwww wait, say it one more time!" yunjin giggled.

you didn't even bother responding this time. you just ended the call.

huh yunjin (01) Y/N HELLO WHY DID U HANG UP COME BACK

y/n y/l/n busy. talk l8r

huh yunjin (01) oh ok hmu when ur free

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