#i have stretched out every task. I'm just . so bored

[soldier-poet-king]

Literally beating back my brain with a stick. Why are you LIKE THIS. We resolved - or at least came to an uneasy tentative truce with - the absolute dogshit self esteem issues eons ago. Why are were BACK here fighting the having zero concept of personhood or self worth problems. Even /if/ my brain is right and I'm garbage bad non-person whos a burden and just manipulating ppl into caring abt me. Like even IF that's true. I can't self sacrifice and do Good when I'm obsessively navel gazing. Even if the fundamental belief at the core of my being is that I'm worthless, I gotta stop ACTIVELY thinking abt it BC I need to be DOING things and dragging myself thru hot coals for others, not just obsessing about how bad I am that I can't even do that. If I can't even do that what am I good for? What's the purpose of me at all?

AHHHHHHHHH

#franposting #this is moody whiny complaining sorry friends #i will be ok #i just need. to not think #hollow out myself until theres nothing left but duty and obligation to the good #until all the selfishness and solipsism and preoccupation with my own worthlessness is gone #until i stop wanting basic human things like comfort and goodness. thats not for me to want. its for me to provide outwards #i am forgetting to do good #and sure maybe positive self belief would be better. but im honestly unsure im capable of that. or even neutral #i just need to transformthe self disgust into action #stop moping start doing #its hard when im beyond exhausted every waking minute #but i have to try. have to learn to function with headaches and bone deep tiredness #i cannot live with my selfish comfort anymore #<i literally know being bored at work isnt helping #idle mind and no feeling of accomplishment #but what else am i to do. i have done. so much busywork #i have stretched out every task. I'm just . so bored #i need to be productive and useful to be good

[whiskersz]

Heyy, could u do a head canon/one shot (or anything else whatever u want) about fem angel!reader and adam just being cute together maybe her preening him like birds do bc I love to think of the angels just as big ass birds haha or anything else cute for that matter.

If u don't want to that's completely fine of course hope u have a great day/night!!

*taps fingers together* hey...I know I said I wouldn't post today but like, I'm a little silly!

Loved writing this even though it's short...enjoy!!

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Adam x Fem! Angel! Reader - Preening

You sat behind Adam, facing his back on his king sized bed, a large towel laid underneath you and a couple products that you had grabbed from his bathroom placed beside you. In the warmth of a late afternoon, he had called you for an alleged emergency, and you, being the caring girlfriend that you were, had immediately rushed to his place.

The emergency had simply turned out to be a couple feathers out of place in his wings, but on further inspection he clearly needed a good preening session from your more expert hands.

“I told you to do this every now and again, Adam.” You gently scolded him, applying some smoothing cream starting from the base of his wings. He let out a content hum before retorting;

“Yeah, yeah. Already told you I do it enough times.”

“And how often do you mean by ‘enough times’?”

You couldn’t see it, but he rolled his eyes at the question.

“Like, once a week.” He heard you huff, “I’m a busy man, babe.”

You resisted nagging him, focusing on the task at hand instead. His feathers looked slightly rough, differently from yours and the other Angels’, who usually preened at least once a day. It was like taking care of your hair after all, you thought.

Glad that you didn’t have anything else to say, he lowered his gaze back on his phone, concentrating on some videogame he had recently downloaded to pass the time. He had this habit of keeping the volume really high no matter where he was, while you would’ve preferred to listen to the birds chirping outside and the gentle buzzing of the city in the distance, but you were too focused to complain now.

Fortunately he got bored of the game pretty quickly, allowing you to smooth out each feather with the cream in silence. You slowly got to the longer feathers of his left wing, which you had to get on your knees to reach since they were so far away. He tucked his wings in a bit to help you.

“Thank you darling, but I’m gonna need them to be sprawled out to do this properly.”

He let out a small ‘oh’ before stretching his wing out again, unhappy that his attempt to make this easier for you had gone to waste.

You kept working silently, helped by the orange-ish light coming from outside; his curtains had been hung to the side to let more light in.

Adam had to admit that feeling your hands work on his wings was rather relaxing; he rested his unmasked face against his hand and allowed himself to close his eyes. Had he been lying down, he was sure he would’ve fallen asleep.

You smiled and paused to gently kiss the back of his neck, a gesture he had grown fond of especially whilst you were preening his wings or he was busy trying to cook something in the kitchen.

“I love you.” you casually said, starting to work on his right wing.

“Love you too, angel face.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel #adam hazbin #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #adam one shot

[nrdmssgs]

König meeting civilian reader Scenario (part 2)

Masterlist

Part 1 here

Huge shoutout to @ethanhoewke and @patyog for helping me realize, the second part was possible.

After a month, reader meets König once more, this time in more intimate atmosphere. König gets cuddles)

It was not an easy task to gather all your friends together. Not because your group was particularly big. You just were all growing older: some started families, others changed jobs, places of work, every next year there were more adult problems, keeping some of you away from others.

So you weren't surprised, when only a few of your friends agreed to come to that little party of yours to celebrate your move to another part of town.

You scroll down your group chat, counting, how many people will come, when you stumble upon a message of your friend, who introduced König to your company.

"I'm coming with *Königs civilian name*"

You felt, as if a little light flickered in your chest.

Even though the last time, you've seen this humble and gentle giant was almost a month ago, you still remembered him time to time and smiled. His voice, soothed and carried away by the talk, you two had, still resounded in your ears from that conversation in the bar.

Behind the menacing figure, there was a warm soul. Not a most open one, but still... You didn't need much time to figure it out.

There were these little "cracks" in his reserved demeanor. Little shy smiles, happiness flickering somewhere deep in his silver eyes, when his mind was consumed with something, he was passionate about.

You weren't sure, why exactly, but you were happy, you'd see him once again, hear his sweet accent.

The moving itself is scheduled for the next day, but this is your old tradition - to celebrate not in the new, but in the old apartment. As evening falls, your friends begin to gather.

König and your mutual friend are among the first to arrive. You greet them warmly and lead them into the living room.

He smiles, but does not look up and seems to be trying to press himself against the wall, take up less space.

You feel sorry for the poor guy, so you give him a little tour of your apartment, just to keep him busy.

"And here is my bedroom. Now it's almost full of boxes, as you can see. And the bed seems to have been taken over by Bo," you laugh, pointing at the fluffy red cat's tail sticking out from under your blanket.

He almost steps into your bedroom, but stops abruptly in midstep."E-ehm, is it ok, if I say hi to him?"

"Go on, this old buddy can be grumpy, but he enjoys a good scratch. Just don’t expect anything big from him, he isn't the most outgoing pal."

And so you leave those too alone at peace. You don't tell König, that your old cat tends to ignore strangers, unless they bring him treats.

The evening goes on, you chat with friends and almost forget about two discreet quiet buddies hanging out in the next room.

That is, until it's time for your old tradition: a ritual you've developed with your friends a long time ago. You called it "Hyde scroll". In honor of the move, you and your friends bought a roll of paper and the cheapest set of paints. The roll was laid out in an empty room and everyone had to draw or write something that is now weighing on him. Someone confessed their love, others drew caricatures of their boring colleagues or bosses. There were no restrictions or rules in this matter. At the end, the one of you who was going to move took the resulting collage with him.

And when you uncorked the sparkling wine and poured it into glasses and prepared paints and paper on the floor - you remembered that someone was missing here.

"Hey, I'm sorry, we completely forgot you here!" you stop at your bedroom door, shocked by what you see. König is sitting on the floor by the bed, and your cat Bo, who is usually not interested in guests, stretched out on his chest and pressed his red snout to Koenig's chin. Bo`s purring so loud, as he never did with you.

König seems to enjoy it so much, he would gladly purr too if he could. His massive hand covers the whole upper body of Bo, who was never considered a small cat. The other hand is rested under Bos` paws to serve him as a support.

The guy looks at you and shyly smiles. "He wanted cuddles, I guess."

"H-how did you do that?" you ask, utterly confused. "Bo is not the easiest one to make friends with..."

König looks down in embarrassment at the cat purring loudly on his chest. "I didn't do anything special, honestly. I guess, animals just love me."

You giggle and pull him by the hand to the living room, where others already enjoy their sparkling wine and creative freedom.

The appearance of König with a cat in his arms causes a sensation in the room. "This is the first time Bo has hit it off so quickly!" notices one of your friends.

You even get a little jealous of your cat. You lived with him for 13 years, and he never slept so peacefully in your arms if you got up and walked somewhere.

Perhaps it was because you were much smaller than König and the cat was not so comfortable when you walked somewhere with him in your arms.

König sits down on the floor in front of the spread paper and looks at what the others had drawn and written. Sometimes he chuckles softly, sometimes sighs tenderly. He still holds Bo carefully in his hands.

You move paint and brushes closer to him. "I can't, my hands are full. And this is where your friends should paint, not someone you see a second time," he says, looking up at you.

"Hey, we're already friends, since you almost stole my cats' heart," you get down on the floor next to him and take the cat away from him, getting a disgruntled look from Bo. "I trust my buddy here, he won't open up so easily to someone not worthy. So might as well call you my friend."

König looks taken aback by your words and you proceed. "Here, you see that small doodle at the corner? It's from our mutual friend. And you know, how our friendship started? I liked his T-shirt and I just walked up to him and asked where can I buy a same one. Fast-forward to this day - we're almost best friends. So... friendship doesn't always have to be earned or to start with anything big. Sometimes it just... you know, just starts."

His expression slowly changes to a more understanding one. You start telling him about other doodles and people behind them. In several minutes a little barely visible smile blooms on his face again.

In the end, you convince him to take a brush and paint something. You even promise not to peek as he does it.

When the evening comes to an end and almost all your friends leave, Koenig helps you clean up after the party. Almost the entire apartment is filled with boxes of things you packed for the move. You have to maneuver between them, like in a maze.

At some point, you turn from behind a mountain of boxes and almost trip over König. He catches you at the last moment and for some reason apologizes.

"You have nothing to apologize for, it's all about moving with endless boxes," you laugh back.

He looks around the rows of boxes and looks at you anxiously. "Are you going to load everything into the car tomorrow yourself?"

"Well, of course, I can ask Bo, but something tells me that he will not help me."

He chuckles as he looks back towards the bedroom, where your cat has gone. "Can I... can I help you tomorrow?"

"Hey, it won't be fun... Just a full day of loading, unloading, heavy lifting, putting oddly named furniture together. I don't think, it's something, you want to spend your time on."

"I'd be spending my time on my friend... And besides, heavy lifting never bothered me."

#könig #cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #konig #konig mw2 #könig cod #cod x reader #cod mv2 #könig mw2 #konig fluff #konig scenario #konig fanfiction #konig cod #konig x reader #konig modern warfare #konig x you #call of duty mw2 #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig imagine #simon ghost riley #call of duty #mw2 #könig scenario

[konohamaru-sensei]

Because im predictable, gray/juvia: "I wanna waste all of my time with you.” 🥺

Merry Christmas Shore! I am very grateful that I somehow made it into your circle of 5 fairy tail fandom friends!! I really admire your art and the speed at which you create, i love that we have the same brain when it comes to shipping and just your general love for Juvia. I promised something fluffy for christmas to offset all the angst, but I'm not sure about the quality of what I wrote. I hope you enjoy it anyway <3

--

Gray x Juvia

Post Alvarez lol i mean.

__

“I’m going to buy a drink.” Gray pushed himself out of the seat he had been sitting in for what was the better part of the day. His limbs felt numb and every bone in his body hurt so much that he wasn’t sure if stretching them out even helped. He’d been perched up on that wooden bench so long that he never wanted to go back there again ever, even though he knew he had to.

Juvia gave him a nod and said nothing, which he took as her not wanting one herself. She’d gotten very quiet in the last hour. Also another reason he needed a drink: When Juvia gave up her always cheery attitude in favour of being sombre something was usually very wrong.

The first beer that was handed to him Gray downed in one go without taking a breath and then he ordered the next one immediately and watched the baffled barman fill his glass again. Then he walked back to the table, frowning at the look of the bench he had to force himself onto again.

They’d been out on this job for three days. A wizard who was rumoured to have stolen some valuable diamonds was supposed to come by this bar or sell here and the mission giver had tasked them to sit there and wait for the guy to come by. Gray had asked Juvia to join, because he didn’t think that making conversation with Erza or Natsu during a full day was a bearable idea. Juvia on the other hand was pleasant to be around.

They had spent their days sitting in the back of that bar, the cheapest seats at the very back where it was mostly dark, waiting for a guy to appear that never appeared. Each night Gray had to watch the tenants of the pub get drunk without being allowed to drink himself. After all, alcohol and fighting didn’t match well - unless you were Cana, but she had incredible resistance anyway.

Gray sat back down in the damned place and he had half the second drink down right away. “If the guy doesn’t show up tonight,” he said, “we will go back.” Abandoning jobs was not his style, but wasting his time wasn’t his style either. 

“What about the master?” Juvia asked and circled the table with her pointer finger. She looked dejected in a way that Gray hated, as if she was personally responsible for the misery of the last three days.

He emptied his glass. “Don’t mind him.” Gray shrugged. “I’d rather not get paid than be here for another 12 hours in this dark and uncomfortable and boring place.”

“I’m sorry, Gray-sama,” Juvia put the ends of her fingers together, “Juvia wishes she were better company.”

“What do you mean by that?” Gray waved to one of the staff to refill his drink and they did.

Juvia looked from the alcohol back to him. “Juvia is boring Gray-sama. That is why Gray-sama is annoyed.”

“It’s the guy that refuses to show up that annoys me,” Gray says decidedly. “You’ve not done anything wrong.” He tapped his finger in irritation and then sipped his beer again.

“But if Juvia were better company…” she murmured, “..maybe Gray-sama would be happier. Gray-sama asked Juvia to come along and now she is of no help.”

He let out an irritated grunt. “Nonsense,” he said and shook his head. “I don’t know how you always come up with this stuff.” There was already a considerable warmth in his chest and probably on his cheeks too. Surely the alcohol was getting to him. He downed the next drink.

Juvia looked at him as if she was trying to find words to say. The way she looked when she looked away from him, when she tried to do stay away from him if he was moody or angry, when she had somehow gotten it into her head that she was doing something that was wrong, he hated that look on her face. Juvia was the best when she was happy, when she was enthusiastic and a little weird. 

“Don’t make that face,” he said and put his head onto his flat hand to keep it upright. “I asked you to come, didn't I? If I were bothered by your presence I wouldn’t have asked you.”

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “Seriously, it’s pleasant to have you around, you have a nice- “ he gestured a little with his hand - “..everything.”

Juvia blushed, which somehow made the warmth at his core worse, so he waved for another drink. He already felt a little confused in his mind, like it was slightly clouded over, but drinking helped with the frustration of the day. 

Apparently having found her usual stride again with what he said Juvia moved closer to him and picked one of the strands of his hair away from the beer: “Why exactly does Gray-sama like hanging out with Juvia?”

Gray briefly closed his eyes and moved his head sideways into her hand so he could breathe in a little of the smell of the hand soap she was always using. He’d noticed it long ago, but he’d never been close enough to soak it in like now.

“You smell nice,” he said and by the way her fingers jumped away from his hair he could tell that his answer surprised her. He made a frowny face and reached for her hand again to put it into his hair. “I like when you do that too.” He looked at her and though she was slightly foggy, he could make out the red cheeks.

“You are always happy and positive and smiling - I like when you smile. Your powers are so compatible with mine so I like doing jobs with you and I enjoy every conversation we have with one another. “ He weighed his head. “But I also enjoy just being quiet around you. It’s pleasant to have you near me no matter what.”

He reached for one of the strands of her hair and turned it around his finger. “Gray…sama…” Juvia murmured in reply as if she didn’t quite know what to say to that onslaught of compliments.

His eyes shot up: “That I hate,l though.” Juvia blinked and he waved with his hand. “I don’t like how you are so formal with me. We’ve known each other for ages, hell, you’ve died for me, you should stop addressing me like I am a prince of some kind.”

“Well then, what if I call you dear then?” she asked slowly.

Gray grabbed the beer in front of him and drank half of it. Through his foggy mind the answer came much easier than it would have if he hadn’t been drinking. “Sure..” he said but didn't look at her. “Whatever you want.” His insides felt strange at this admission. He finished the glass for good measure.

Juvia let out a squeal and then, as if to test the waters, she leaned forward to his ear and slowly said: “Don’t you think that is enough drinks, my dear?” 

It was like a magic spell had been cast. From where her breath had touched his ear goosebumps spread all through his body to the tips of his toes. He hadn’t experienced this since the last time he had been actually cold, which happened so very rarely that he couldn’t even recall when that was. But here she had done that to him, just with one word alone. 

He buried his head forward into his arms, combatting the spinning of his head by having his eyes closed. Gray let go of the strand of hair he’d been holding and instead ran a hand through his hair to regain composure, but then he found her fingers already there. He’d forgotten he had put her hand into his hair in the first place.

“Dangerous..” Gray murmured and pulled away from her fingers. “You are a dangerous woman.”

Juvia leaned closer to him again. “Why? Do you not like it, my dear?” She made sure to make the last syllables very clear again. She stopped moving through his hair.

“No.” Gray said, decidedly and then slightly shook his head to invite her to continue what she’d been doing. “No.. it’s not.. Like that..” He didn’t know how to explain what confused him so much, so he just grunted in frustration and gave up. He buried his head deeper into his arms.

“Juvia thinks you had too much to drink, dear,” Juvia giggled and combed through his hair. “Maybe it’s time to leave.”

Somewhere beyond the fog, Gray knew she was right, but he found himself entirely unable to move. Too tired and comfortable with her body close, her smell in his nose and her hand in his hair. So he decided to pretend he’d fallen asleep, just to enjoy it all a little longer.

#fic tag #gruvia #there arent even fairies in this show! #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #gray x juvia #writing out of the persepctive of someone who IS drunk is kinda hard ngl #FALl #should have picked juvias pov but ah too late LOL #this is qed and idk where i am when this goes out

[stealanity]

“ ONLY FOR PRACTICE. ” ft. lee hyunjae

genre & warnings : actress ! reader x model ! hyunjae, kinda co-workers to kind of lovers, fluff, a lot of kissing, soft touches, hyunjae's kind of super hot

summary : being the most popular actress of the moment is no easy task, especially when you have to play the fake girlfriend of the new jewel in the modeling crown.

word count : 1,273

« do we really have to do this? » you asked, sighing as if the world were crumbling around you. hyunjae rolled his eyes at your question, arranging his hair in front of the mirror under your visibly annoyed gaze. « our managers advised us to do this, and believe me, i'm no happier about it than you are. »

raising your eyes to the sky with a cry of frustration, you let yourself fall backwards onto the mattress. being the most popular actress of the moment wasn't easy — especially when you're forced to play the fake girlfriend of a model whose career is just taking off. « i'm an actress, i don't need to practice my kissing skills. » you affirmed, staring at the ceiling and letting a grimace disturb the tranquility of your face. a sigh left the boy's lips, which drew your attention. watching him from afar, you suddenly saw him approach the bed, settling on its edge and stretching his neck muscles. you had to admit that the idea of kissing hyunjae didn't really repel you — but rather die than admit it to him.

he was good looking, funny and kind, heart on his sleeve and extremely hot. but he was so self-confident and full of himself that you didn't want to give him the opportunity to know that it didn't bother you. « but we've never kissed, we need to train together to make it believable in front of the medias. » he explained, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, giving your eyes a glimpse of the perfectly defined veins on his forearms. looking away a half-second later, before he could catch your gaze on him, a pout played on your lips, « why should we kiss in public in the first place? »

a fatally bored sigh escaped hyunjae's lips as he swiveled to face you, his chocolate pupils locked in yours. and without him uttering a single word, you understood what he wanted to tell you so silently — « uh, fine! » you boredly declared, straightening up on all fours on the bed before sitting down right next to him.

the fact that you were sitting on your knees made you look a little taller than him — so, when seen from above, his round eyes seemed much softer than anything else. not knowing what to focus on, your eyes darted between each of his, while your hands, camouflaged in your sleeves, clung to his shoulders to keep your balance. you saw him look away from your eyes for a second, deviating towards your lips lightly made up with red lipstick, and you could swear that the atmosphere around you both had suddenly changed. with bated breath, you leaned forward slightly so that your face was now closer to his than before. before the fateful moment, you took advantage of having his face so close to yours to observe every detail of it : no wonder why everyone was so crazy about him, his skin was flawless, his features perfect, his smile dazzling and his eyes... his eyes were electrifying, bewitching, the prettiest brown eyes you've ever seen. the honey-colored light from his pupils, thanks to the sun's rays, made you want to drown in them.

« it's only for practice, right? » you asked, in a whisper that grazed his half-open lips, forcing him to look away from your mouth and back into your eyes. it was an unreal situation, because it wasn't as if hyunjae was one of the people you wanted to kiss or anything in the first place. you weren't even friends, simply a work colleague with a contract to boost each other's popularity. not like you have time for a relationship anyway — between filming, interviews and previews here and there, your schedule was far too overloaded to allow for any whimsical extravagance on the side.

suddenly, you were jolted out of your thoughts when hands invaded your waist, completely cutting off your breathing at the same time. the friction of his thumb reassuringly caressing your hip caused your heart to beat faster, as he closed the distance between your faces the next second, his warm lips now against yours.

no need to mention the panic in your heart at this very moment, nor to mention the way your stomach lurched at his touch. finally closing your eyes as you feel the pressure against your mouth become delicately firmer, you allowed yourself to melt under the sensation of his lips harmonizing with yours, your hands leaving hyunjae's broad shoulders to settle on his cheeks. he made it so easy — his lips moved against yours in the most natural of ways, his hands gripping your hips to keep you from slipping away, the delicate pressure of his pianist fingers on your lower back to draw you closer to him. maybe you lost your nerve the longer the kiss went on, especially when he pulled away for just a fraction of a second to kiss you a second time, more enthusiastically.

in the madness of the moment, hyunjae drew your body against his, delicately, before grabbing your thigh and pulling you onto his lap, your legs on either side of him. slightly surprised by his gesture — though not displeased — you unclasped your lips from his, giving you a glimpse of the sweet mess your lipstick had created on his damn pretty face. his fingers left your back to place themselves innocently, hesitantly, on the side of your thighs, his fingers grazing your skin, which tingled under his touch. then you wrapped your arms around his neck, mingling your lips with his once again for the sole purpose of training you to be convincing. it was a hot kiss, almost feverish and hurried because of both of your jerky breathing, letting a few sighs escape here and there.

after long minutes of kissing, with a few wandering hands, eager to explore the details of each other's skin, you pulled away slightly to catch your breath. but even after your exchange of saliva was over, hyunjae didn't seem determined to move away from you, his eyes planted on your face like an idiot in love. letting a smile tug at your lips, you watched him tenderly before speaking, « so verdict? is your favorite actress a good kisser? »

it's something he confided in you the day you first met — even if you don't know if he said it to flatter you or if he really meant it. but the fact that he said he was interested in you even before he met you, appealed to you in a way. the boy pretended to think, your lipstick smeared over his mouth and a little around it, and once again you took the opportunity to admire him, your fingers delicately caressing the skin of his cheeks without realizing it. « mhh.. not bad. not the best, but not the worst. » he said teasingly, a smirk forming on his lips.

wrinkling your nose at his answer, which was totally wrong for you, you pinched his cheek gently. « you're a terrible liar, » you whispered softly as he approached you once more, cutting off your next sentence by capturing your lips with his again. decidedly, you had to practice kissing for a long time so that everyone could really believe that there was something going on between you. and with the way hyunjae takes hold of your lips, kiss after kiss, with a little more passion each time, you wouldn't understand if someone didn't believe in your acting..

taglist ( even if i don't think i still have one.. here's the google form ! ) : @quaissants @kimsohn @kyusqult

#kflixnet #deoboyznet #hyunjae imagines #hyunjae drabbles #hyunjae scenarios #hyunjae timestamps #lee hyunjae #the boyz #tbz #tbz hyunjae #the boyz hyunjae #the boyz imagines #tbz imagines #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #the boyz drabbles #tbz drabbles #the boyz timestamps #tbz timestamps #lee hyunjae imagines #lee hyunjae scenarios #lee hyunjae timestamps #lee hyunjae drabbles #the boyz hyunjae imagines #tbz hyunjae imagines

[carlsdarling]

A fic where the reader and Carl are playing truth or dare and it gets more explicit the longer they play 🤭 you can say no

Truth or Dare

Carl and Y/N are bored and play truth or dare and it becomes juicy... Bit of a plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw

As was often the case, you and Carl hung out in his room, bored. As nice as it was to not have all the pre-apocalypse obligations (no one was bugging you anymore about applying to colleges and building your futures) all that free time brought other problems.

Specifically, a lot of boredom. Life within the walls of Alexandria was tranquil and mostly uneventful unless supply runs were coming up, walkers were scratching at the door, or Negan showed up.

"What should we do?" asked Carl languidly, setting aside the game controller. "I don't feel like gaming anymore." He yawned.

"How about Truth or Dare?" you suggested.

Carl shrugged his shoulders. "All right. I'll start. Whatcha gonna choose?"

"Dare," you replied.

"Okay. Massage my neck. I’m sore", Carl grinned and stretched out on the bed, invitingly. You sat down next to him and worked his tense muscles until he was relaxing and closed his eye. His skin felt warm under your fingers.

"That's enough," you then announced. "Your turn."

"Truth," Carl said wearily. He seemed to have appreciated your massage.

You regarded him mischievously. "How often do you masturbate?"

Carl turned bright red. "That's not fair," he protested.

"Yes, it is," you chuckled, "You had the choice."

Carl writhed in embarrassment, holding his hands to his face. "Uum... usually once a day?"

You squeaked with amusement. "Every day? Oh my God, Carl!" You bent over laughing.

"Enough of that," Carl tried to end the subject, clearing his throat. "Your turn." You could tell by Carl's face that you were now facing a similarly awkward question, so you decided to go with Dare. "Go find Eugene and ask him for condoms."

Your mouth was wide open. "You can't be serious," you grumbled, "Why Eugene of all people? And what would he think of me?"

Carl laughed gleefully. "Well, that's your problem. Come on, get out of here."

Sighing, you walked out. You found Eugene outside the church, chatting with Gabriel. "Eugene, can I talk to you alone for a minute?" you asked. He moved away with you a few steps. "I need condoms," you informed him in a straightforward manner. You wanted to get the task over with.

Eugene stared at you. "Condoms are used to perform activities of breeding without actually breeding," he then pontificated. "So do you want to engage in such activities?" He raised his eyebrows curiously.

"No, um... it's just that, I lost a bet," you mumbled.

Eugene looked like he didn't believe you. "Alright, well, I need to get some from storage," he then announced.

Mortified, you took the condoms from him a little later and returned to Carl, where you threw them on the floor in front of him. "That was mean," you fretted, "just you wait. I'm gonna get my revenge. Truth or Dare?"

Carl looked uncertain. "Umm... Truth," he chose, not wanting to be sent on an embarrassing mission, too.

"Have you ever tried putting on a condom?" He stared at you, disconcerted. "Yes or no, Carl?"

"Uum... yes," he then confessed. "Just to try it out to see if I could deal with it." He played with the blanket. Somehow you found the idea of Carl touching himself and experimenting with condoms sexy, and involuntarily you imagined him naked. "Truth or Dare?"

"Truth," you said.

"Have you ever had sex?"

You sighed in frustration. "Yes, once." It hadn't been particularly thrilling, but Carl looked impressed. "Okay, Carl, your turn."

"Dare."

"Put one of those condoms on right now."

"Uum... what?" he stammered. When you just looked at him, grinning, he picked up the condoms from the floor, placed them beside him, and fumbled hesitantly with the buttons on his jeans. Uncertainly, he then exposed himself, and you were amused to note that his cock was half-erect, sticking out from the tuft of dark pubic hair. "I've never been naked in front of anyone before," Carl murmured quietly and eyed you reluctantly.

You snickered and sat down next to him, and somehow the two of you ended up hugging and kissing, and your hand moved to Carl's lap. You began to gently stroke his cock, and it immediately became completely erected. It felt warm and hard at the same time, like steel covered in velvet. Carl moaned in delight. A little bit of moisture showed at his tip. "It's so good," he sighed, and lay backwards on the bed while you jerked him off. You enjoyed watching him having his pleasure. Carl squirmed under your caresses, moaning. He was so cute when he was aroused - his eye was closed, his face flushed, his mouth half open and his hair slightly messed up. You wondered if he looked the same when he was pleasuring himself. He moved his hips urgently, and more precum leaked out and poured over your hand. You bent down to kiss Carl. He put his arms around you, and his moans increased as he reached for your hand, closed it tighter around his cock, and showed you how he liked it best. "Faster," he whispered breathlessly. "Oh, please, Y/N, go faster." He whimpered and whined, clinging to you. "I'm cumming," he sighed then, only a split second later he shot his load.

Some of it had landed on your shirt. "Tzzzzzzz, Carl," you scolded him jokingly. "Look what you've done." He glanced at you from under half-closed eyelid, relaxed and happy. You lay down next to him to cuddle up with him.

"Truth or Dare?" he whispered, kissing you.

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes smut #carl fanfiction #carl grimes #carl grimes imagines

[chysalxsm]

─── ❝ DILFFLIX ❞ ───

Misbehaving pt.1: [pt.2]

Day 1: of my DILF series. This contains DILF!Professor Zhongli x reader. Heavy smut so read at your own risk. Hope you guys enjoy it and have a nice day/night🤍

DILFLIX: Event

This was a request from @tsuyato !

Contains: Dom!Zhongli, Sub! gn reader, Teacher/Student, reader is 18+, degrading, spanking, name calling (darling, sweetheart, love, slut), fingering,oral (reader receiving), overstimulation (2x)

Since you've gotten into college you just couldn't keep your eyes off, of your history teacher...

His long silky brown hair, always in a low pony tail, silver glasses hanging low on his high bridge nose, eyes fixated on the book he was reading out loud, and his brown colored suit fitting him just perfectly.

How come it is always the older men you find attractive, that already have children and are probably married too... Your best friend shook your shoulders, disturbing you from ogling at your attractive teacher. ,,Miss Y/N, I would like for you to stay after class. It isn't the first time you weren't paying attention and being lost in your thoughts." Your professors voice was deeper than usual but it still had the soft touch to it. You were embarrassed to say the least, getting caught by him.

You knew you weren't the only student crushing on him, hell there were even more worse students than you. Coming to school with naughty clothes on, that could get them dress-coded fast but they don't care. What they just want is his attention. Skirts seeming way to short for their own comfort and the shirts unbuttoned way to deep that people could see the lingerie they are wearing.

You knew it was bad for you to be crushing on a teacher but no one could blame you. His attractiveness, his deep voice and well mannered behavior was the reason why you were having a crush on him. Dirty thoughts roam most of the time on your mind while thinking of him. Oh, how you whished that he would just bend you down on his desk fucking you so hard that you can't walk for days, or him pushing your head down till the base of his cock, making you choke around his cock and...

,,Fuck.." You sighed out, Mr. Zhongli handed you worksheets out that you need to finish before the class ends. You look at the tasks, completely dumbfounded from the questions. Out of nervousy you start to nibble on your pencil, hopefully your professor doesn't notice you struggling to answer the questions. As you look up from the sheet of paper, you were straight up met with the eyes of Zhongli. Your back straightened up immediately not wanting to seem bored. He let out a chuckle before looking down at his desk, his eyes leaving yours.

Time passed and you were looking out the window, completely giving up to even try and answer them. You were once again disturbed from your thoughts as the bell rang. You lean back at your chair, stretching yourself out as you watch everyone leave the room one by one. ,,Tell me everything after, okay!" Your friend shouted before waving you a goodbye as she left the classroom. Now it was only you and him. Every student already going home, while you're still stuck here.

You slowly stood up, walking towards Mr.Zhongli. You made sure, your hips were swaying while doing so. His eyes were fixated on you the whole time, mostly on your chest. You went to the first row and sit down on a chair. You were jealous of that person, they just can watch him from so near and they chose not to? If you and many other students were right in front of him seated, your eyes would never leave his face. Wouldn't even leave the way he wa-

,,Miss Y/N..." Zhongli sighed as he watches you. Your eyes widened, knowing you were once again lost in your thoughts but right in front of him. ,,I'm sorry professor!" You apologize, embarrassed from your behavior. You aren't a horny teen anymore but this man just made you feel things that you never felt anything before. He sighed out again, before starting to speak again. ,,I can't help but notice you watching me a lot in my class...and then not even noticing when I'm talking to you Miss Y/N. Is there something you want to tell me?" Fuck. He caught you.

You were sure that this is going to be way more awkward than it already is, if you don't answer him anytime soon. You nibble on your lips, nervous on how you should answer him. ,,I-I uhm didn't notice it myself and I'm very sorry for my behavior...You are just a very attractive professor and I can't help mys-" You cut yourself off, not believing what you just admitted right in front of him. Your eyes widened and now you just wish to be buried alive and never come back.

Zhongli's mouth formed into a slight smile. A chuckle leaving his mouth. ,,Well there's something I also need to admit Y/N. Not only have you been keeping your eyes on me but I also did. I still need to punish you for not listening and doing nothing in class though.." His words shocked you. Never have you thought of your professor to even slightly like you in a romantic way. Well this was your chance now wasn't it? He likes you too, he could fuck you like you always imagined but why do you feel bad now? What about his wife?? ,,Sir, I know that something like this is very wrong. I think you have a wife that awaits your arrival so I think I should leave right now..." You said, wanting to stand up but he spoke up. ,,You can just call me Zhongli. I am not married anymore, she died in a car crash some years ago." You are shocked from his words. He wasn't married? But there is a picture of him and his daughter on his desk.

What are you even doing? This is your only chance and you want to just go home and destroy the only one time opportunity? Well, not anymore. You stand up, Zhongli joining you. ,,I'm sorry for your loss Zhongli, it must've been very hard for you and your daughter." You say, nibbling on your lips again and looking down at the wooden floor. You hear his footsteps as he walks towards you. Zhongli's fingers lift your chin up, now your lips were almost touching from how close you guys stood. ,,If you don't want this then we can stop..." He says before connecting your lips together. The kiss is rough and passionate, lips moving against each other as your hands goes up to his chest, holding against his white blouse. ,,Fuck..." A moan leaves your mouth before you break the kiss. ,,This will be our little secret alright?" Zhongli whispers into your ear and a shudder leaves your spine. He walks towards the door, closing it so nobody can disturb you.

,,Lay stomach down on the desk and pull your pants down with your panties sweetheart~" Zhongli hums as he watches you obey him completely. Your bare ass with your private part is fully exposed just for his eyes only. His hands rests on the fat of your ass. Your breath hitches and a slight moan leaves your mouth as you felt a strike. He was spanking you...'That's all I ever wanted, thank you' your hands grip the corner of the desk, trying not to moan from the sensation. You could feel yourself dripping from the pain and pleasure mix.

,,Such a naughty slut, hm? Getting all wet from me spanking you as a punishment, aren't you ashamed?" Zhongli's voice was even deeper than usual. His fingers prodding down towards your hole, his middle finger slowly pushing inside you. ,,Oh..f..fuck~" you moan out and arch your back as he curls his long finger inside you. ,,You like that slut?" Zhongli nibbles on your ear and a shaky moan leaves your mouth. ,,Mhm, I do sir~" you admit, not feeling shy or embarrassed anymore, you rather felt more bold. His ring finger soon entered your quivering hole too, making your eyes roll back. It was to much for you, you can't help but cum around his fingers.

,,You've made such a mess love~ let me clean you up~" Zhongli got on his knees, spreading your thighs and then taking your sex in his mouth. A whiny moan slipped out of your mouth and your hands tangled his hair, pulling his head more near your private part. ,,Fuck, you taste so good~" Zhongli is needy. It's like he's hypnotized by it, wanting more and more of you. The grip on your thighs is hard, probably leaving a mark after he's done with you. ,,Fuck~ Zhongli, g..gonna cum again!" You warn him, but he fasten his pace up. Not soon after you came, a loud moan escaping your lips as you try your best to calm down from the intense orgasm.

,,Mr. Zhongli? What are you doing in there?" It was Mr. Ajax's voice...

#smut story #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact #zhongli smut #zhongli x reader smut #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli x reader #zhongli #diluc smut #kaeya smut #childe smut

[last-starry-sky]

Girl's Night Out - ch. 1

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

pairing: Ghost x shy!goth!f!reader

rating: M

summary: A full rewrite of this idea I posted last week. Read that if you want to be spoiled. Shy reader is pulled out for a girl's night by her two friends. They run into Gaz, Soap, and Ghost at the same bar. The night develops from there.

word count: 9.6k

warning: mdni, not beta-read, reader is painfully shy, like socially anxious levels of shy (i'm not projecting at allll), drinking, smoking mention, touching and kissing but mostly sfw (the good shit will be in the next chapter i promise. it's already written. 😈). This is also about 90% exposition (i'm sorry).

Also, I have committed the ultimate, unforgivable sin in this: Ghost is maskless. So if that ruins it for you, sit this one out.

snippet:

“If you’re interested, that guy hasn’t stopped looking at you since he walked in.” You set your drink down with a clunk. You were going to kill both of them.  Your friend giggled. She picked up her glass and took a delicate, almost coquettish, sip. “No,” she said setting it down so lightly you almost didn’t hear it. “All of them have been staring over here since they walked in.”

“GOD, this week has been complete shit!” your friend shouted as soon as the two of you were far enough away from work to be out of earshot of your other dispersing coworkers.

She stretched her arms up, a few cracks audible through her heavy coat as she groaned. It was true. It had been a hellish week. You hadn’t even had time to have lunch with each other. Most everyday for her was either a “lunch meeting” or just working straight through her usual lunch hour. You had started just giving her your packed lunch and running out for a bite to eat when you could. She was thankful for it. She was a junior partner. Every extra billable hour and little bit reflected back on her, helped her future career. 

You weren’t privy to exactly why all the partners were so ungodly busy, you were just a receptionist. Not even a secretary. Your days were busy in a different way: greeting and checking in what felt like the same ten faces, answering the phone with a greeting that was worn into the foundation of your brain at this point, answering emails, moving meetings around. There was also the bonus (if you could really call it that) task of covering for one of the senior partner’s secretaries when they took their lunches. It was nothing you weren’t used to. The only thing you disliked was that one slimy junior partner that seems to always conveniently hang around the front desk while they’re away.  

Your friend wound her arm around yours. Her face was still scrunched from her stretch, not yet ready to relax. 

“What do you have planned?” she asked.

“Oh, the usual,” you sighed turning your face away, watching the pavement pass by as you walked, “laundry, cleaning-”

“So, nothing?” she interrupted you sarcastically. 

A cold wind whipped down the street, mussing both of your hair. 

“Yeah. Nothing,” you mumbled. You broke your arm away to push your hair back behind your ear. “Do you still want to stop for groceries?” you asked, desperate to change the subject. You wanted this week to end in it’s usual, boring way for the both of you.

She hummed back in agreement, distracted with rearranging her long, curly hair back into place. 

“God, I need a drink,” she said with a huff, giving up on her hair. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, looked back over to you and said exactly what you did not want to hear. “We should go out tonight.” 

-

You spent your whole shopping trip feebly fighting off your friend’s attempt to make plans. She was begging you by the time you pushed your trolley out of the store. 

“PLEASE,” she had begged, pulling at your hand while you tried to take out your bags. “Please! Just a few hours! Just you and me and we can go to this cute little bar that’s out of the way! No guys! A girl’s night!”

Your silence had been your answer.

You felt a bit guilty, walking away, leaving her there to beg to no one in the middle of the parking lot. The farther you walked, face into the cold wind, the worst you felt. It was the wind making you cry, you lied to yourself. The desire to turn back and just give in to your best friend, to make things right despite your own feelings grew stronger with every block. You tightened your grip on your bags. No, you told yourself. You don’t want to go out, and you don’t have to if you don’t want to. 

You repeated it to yourself until your little white apartment building filled your hazy vision. You set down your bags on the stoop and wiped your eyes as you shuffled through your keys. Your eye wandered forward, looking through the two tall bushes that flanked the fenced-off area in front of the bay windows. The sun was pooling bright and yellow on the hardwood inside. It took you a second to connect that your were looking into your own apartment, mess cluttered across the floor on full display to the street. You had forgotten to close your curtains again. You let out an exhausted sigh, pushed open the door, and gathered your bags. If there was anything to be thankful for, it was that there were only seven other tenants and none of them seemed the voyeuristic type. Or at least you hoped so. 

Safe inside, you put away your food. You puttered around, looking over the mess you had let accumulate all week (at left on display) as you raced to and from work, only having enough energy at the end of the day to heat up some food, wash yourself, and pass out into your unmade bed. You sighed sinking down into your couch. You would definitely have enough to occupy your mind for the next couple days. Your friend had enough other friends, you told yourself, wrapping up in a blanket you had left stuffed over the side of the couch. She would find someone to go out with, blow off that steam she needed to.

Your eyes were about to close, cuddled up in your blanket in the sun-warmed pool of late-afternoon light from your front windows. The street was mostly quiet, just the wind and branches from the bushes and trees against the building. It was pleasant white-noise to fall asleep to. You heard your phone buzz. You almost ignored it. Then it buzzed again. You groaned. Someone was texting you and you had a feeling you knew who it was. You pulled yourself out of your blanket cocoon with a groan and angrily went to find your purse where you had dropped it in the entryway. 

It wasn’t who you thought it would be. It was your (only) other friend. She just so happened to be your friend’s cousin. You had known her for about as long as you had your other friend. They looked very similar, most of the time getting mistaken for sisters, but they could not have been more different in personality. 

Your friend was a solicitor, through and through. She was quick, witty, and tough with a beautiful face and sensuous body she knew how to use when either softening or enhancing a biting comment. No man stood a chance against her, most women, too. You admired her strength. The way she took no shit, stood up for herself, and got what she wanted from life. 

Her cousin, on the other hand, with almost the same face and body, was sweet. She loved to hear other people talk. She had a talent for putting people at ease, for getting them to open up and tell their tales. She would laugh with their funny stories and softly hold their hands through the sad ones. It had to be something in her kind eyes, her genuine words, her warm smile. You wished you had her warmth. How she could give so much, make people feel loved and wanted and safe.  

You opened your messages.

You okay?

Heard you got in a fight?

You huffed looking at the pair of messages. You wondered what she had been told. You tapped out your reply.

I’m fine. Not really a fight. Your cousin wanted to go out but I’m just not feeling it.

You watched the line of dots bounce as she replied.

Glad you’re okay. ❤️☺️ Take care of yourself!

You smiled. She still had that ability to make you feel better, even through the phone. You took the time while you were there to tidy up your entryway: organizing your shoes back into a line on the rug next to the door and hanging up your jackets. You were thinking about grabbing your mop to get rid of the stains and dirt that you had tracked in when it had rained for a few days this week when your phone buzzed again.

Did you end up buying that shirt you liked? 

You blushed thinking back to last weekend. Both of your friends had managed to pull you out for a day of shopping. You were usually against buying anything for yourself, used to squirreling away your money for when you really needed it. Moving internationally had done that to you. Your nice friend had called it “self care” but your lawyer friend had taken you by the shoulders and very directly told you that you could not keep showing up to the office in clothes from ten years ago. So you three had made a day of it, a nice day at that. You had bought mostly clothes for the office: black skirts and slacks, button up shirts and cardigans. 

Toward the end of the day you had given in and finally let yourself go in the store you had wanted to explore the whole afternoon. A little, dark store specializing in gothic fashion. Your friends had not made fun of you, and actually encouraged you! They kept pulling down things for you to try on, much to the annoyance of the two employees, cooing and squealing every time you came out of the dressing room. You had wanted to buy everything, and your friends did too, but you were realistic. You knew you hated going out, and none of these clothes were appropriate for your office job. You had sighed, coming down from your retail high, and sorted out a few shirts and skirts you felt you would actually wear day-to-day.

Your friend’s text was about the hardest choice you’d had make: a black velvet, lace trimmed, cropped tank top that came with a matching, long sleeved, lace over-shirt. The lace on the tank was beautifully ornate and pointed. It made you feel like a cathedral window. The over-shirt was wide necked, hanging just enough off your shoulders to let the lace below peak up. What made you self conscious about it was what your friends had exclaimed when you did a turn around after walking out of the dressing room. 

“It shows off your tattoo so well!”

You clamped your hand over your right shoulder now as it had then. It had shaken you then. You felt exposed. Who were you pretending to be? Some girl who goes out to clubs to show off her body? No way. Were you going to display your tattoo just so some stranger could leer at you, dig into your personal life? No. Your tattoo was yours. You didn’t have to tell anyone about it if you didn’t want to.

You had hardened your heart as you paid for your other clothes. You didn’t need that shirt. But once you were home, and your friends were texting you, just like they were now, you had caved. You had thought about it for two days. Despite your busy week, you had ran back to that shop after work on the third night and bought it. You had told your friend at work the day after.

You replied:

I did, actually.

She texted back quickly.

Can I see it on you again???

It was still sitting on the floor of your bedroom, in the bag with the receipt because you were definitely going to return it after the honeymoon phase passed. Phone in hand, you pulled it out again. You dangled it between your hands by the straps, lace fluttering, more nothing than anything. You sighed. It was still as cute as the day you first fell in love with it. 

You threw your phone on the bed and stripped off your warm sweater from work. The cloth was cold against your body, and the lace did nothing to hold onto any heat. You swiveled back and forth, looking yourself over in your mirror propped in the corner of your room. With a necklace and the right pair of pants, or a skirt, it would be really cute. You found yourself thinking about what color lipstick you would wear with it.

You grabbed your phone off of your bed and quickly snapped a picture for your friend. She replied back almost immediately.

!!!!! 

SO CUTE

Then, your other friend texted you.

GIRL. YOU HAVE TO WEAR THAT OUT WITH US TONIGHT.

You could have strangled the both of them. Of course they had worked together again to get at you. Of course. You texted her back. 

You two are going out?

Yep!

You tapped the side of your phone. She seemed in a better mood than when you last saw her. That was good. It was also good that your other friend was going out. Even if you bailed, she would at least have her. You let yourself be bitten by curiosity and texted: 

Where?

She texted you the address for a bar. You clicked on the link. As the website loaded you sat down on your bed, running your hands over the lace on your stomach. You swiped through the pictures. It was just as your friend had described it: small, dark, intimate, out of the way. Not a place you felt you needed to worry about being interrupted by jackasses trying to hit on you or your friends. Another text pulled you back to reality.

?

It’s cute.

soooooo

you wanna meet up with us later? 👀 Just for a drink or two? Just us girls?

There it was. A question you didn’t want to answer. It was selfish, but you really wanted to ignore your friends, curl up in bed, and let the night pass alone. You fell back onto your bed and stared up at the ceiling. You tapped at the sides of your phone. You also really didn’t want to ghost your friends. They had been gone out of their way to do things with you, to include you though the worst and most stressful years of your life. You ground your heel against the hardwood floor. A little smile crept over your cheek. 

You could do it. You could do this for them. 

What time?

Your friend’s reply came not a second later. 

7!

See you then!!!!

-

You thought the hardest part of this night was going to be getting ready. You only had an hour to decide what to put on. The problem of how to combine the various pieces of your all black wardrobe into something cute enough for a girl’s night out but not too cute to attract unwanted attention, that was a struggle. Your floor was filled with tights, leggings, and skirts as you tried on every piece of clothing you had with the shirt you had set your heart on. Finally, with time running out, you put on your high waisted leggings and, after a quick once over in the mirror, you decided it was this or nothing. You actually liked how the waistband almost met the bottom of the crop top, giving your outfit the illusion of being one piece. 

You had gone back and forth in your head over what color lipstick you wanted to wear. You could have softened the whole look with a dark red or even purple. There was something rebellious in you though, maybe it was the fact that you still didn’t want to be doing this, that made you pick out the matte black. If they wanted you to come out they would get the full you. The rest of your makeup was minimal: lashes, liner, brows. You wanted your lips to be the star. Not that anyone would care besides your two friends. 

You quickly pulled together the rest of your outfit as you walked out the door: a lace choker around the middle of your neck, short black boots, and your black motorcycle jacket that you had stopped wearing to work after too many pointed stares. 

The hardest part also wasn’t walking alone the five or so blocks to the bar. The dark didn’t scare you, even in the city. It was Friday night and the weekend was just staring: everyone was heading out, rushing by just as you were. No one paid you much attention, even dressed as you were. Head down, you blended into the bustling crowd and quickly made good time to the bar.

No, the hardest part so far was just walking in the door. It was an old door, like one that the traditional pubs from the old section of the city had. There was only one, antique looking, lantern style, light illuminating the brass plaque with the bar’s name on the outside. The one large window was tinted so dark you couldn’t even peek in to see if your friends were inside. They had texted you about five minutes ago, saying they had arrived and had a table. It still scared you that they might not be inside, that you would just have to trust them. 

You gathered your courage and pushed the door open. It was truly a tiny place. The horse shoe shaped bar took up almost a third of the space. There were four little round tables pushed toward the walls that filled the rest of the pub. It was too dark for you to see very clearly into every corner. The brightest light hung like a pendant above the middle of the bar, which was empty save for the bartender. Your heart clenched in a panic. You were alone. You looked desperately around for your friends. 

The bartender: a young, dark haired guy with a curled mustache who was rather cute, greeted you. He called you over, casually leaned against the bar and asked what you wanted to drink. Before you could say a word your friend, like an angel from heaven, came snaking around the bar toward you. She was just as dolled up as you: a flowing, long sleeved, red shirt shifted off her shoulders, tight, dark jeans, and bright red heels. 

“You came!” she said pulling you into a tight hug, leaving you breathless. Your lungs filled with hairspray and perfume. You heard the bartender chuckle as she pulled away, leaving her arm wrapped around your shoulders. Your friend turned to him and smiled flirtatiously, her red lipstick accentuating her wide smile. You saw her gold earrings sparkle out from her dark hair. “See? I told you she would come!”

You blushed as the bartender now asked your friend what he should get started for you. You we about half sure that he assumed you were her girlfriend. “This round’s on me,” your friend said squeezing your arm, letting you order for yourself.

“Vodka Cranberry, please,” you told the bartender, avoiding his eyes by unzipping your jacket. 

He quickly made your drink and, as soon as it was in your hand, you were whisked away by your friend. A dim, hazy light hung above your table. It was enough to clearly see the drinks on the table and your friends faces, but not much else. No wonder you hadn’t seen them when you walked in. 

Your other friend’s soft smile greeted you when you got to your little round table. She was more casual that the two of you, wearing a tight sage-green dress with a square neckline. Her sleek, black hair fell in neat waves to her shoulders: not as short as yours but shorter than her cousin’s. A small, silver necklace hung down over her clavicle, setting off the tone of her skin brilliantly. 

“You wore your new shirt!” she said sweetly as you shuffled your jacket off your shoulders. You threw it over the back of the chair. “You dressed it up so well!”

“Thanks,” you said hopping up into your chair and stirring your drink, trying not to sound too proud. You did feel cute though. 

“So,” your friend said slumping over the table, her red sleeve flowing over the bottom of her martini glass, “what’s new with you guys?”

Your other friend took a sip of her wine. “Nothing,” she said with a sigh. 

“Nobody cute at work?” your friend goaded, resting her face on her fist.

She shook her head. “Not even anyone interesting. Same doctors and researchers as always.”

Your friend picked up her glass. “A toast to the single life then,” she said sarcastically. 

Both you and your friend picked up your glasses in unison and, with a laugh, clinked them against hers. In the middle of your drink, your friend rolled her eyes and set her glass down without taking a sip.

“Guys! I don’t WANT to be single!" She reconsidered her choice, eyeing the last bit of alcohol in her glass, and picked it up again. 

“Maybe if you weren’t so busy . . .” your friend suggested, swirling her dark wine.

“Ugh, if only,” she replied setting down her glass after a long drink, olives rolling at the bottom. She looked at you with a wince of sympathy and said, “We’re in for a long couple weeks.”

“Really?” you asked, hoping for her to elaborate, but your voice was drowned out by the door opening and another group walking in. 

It was a group of guys, if you could guess by their voices as they passed by to sit on the far end of the bar. You didn’t bother to look back. They made small talk with the bartender as they ordered. The bar equalized back to it’s quiet state, indie-rock barely audible through the speakers. You couldn’t help but catch your friend’s wandering eye as you picked up your glass for a drink. She was looking at them, fingers tapping across her lips.

You rolled your eyes. She had promised this was a night out for friends, just for you girls.

Your other friend, sensing the tension, reached out and patted her on the arm. “It’s hard to keep a relationship when your work life is so busy,” she said softly.

“You would know,” she shot back. 

Your friend’s hand flinched back, shocked by her words. You hadn’t been involved but you felt like you had been punched. Now you were both staring at her, more than a bit angry. What had gotten into her? Your friend sat back in her chair, a sad look creeping over her face. 

“Sorry,” she apologized softly, “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay,” your friend said finishing her glass of wine. She hopped down off her chair, the heels of her boots clacking against the hardwood. She pointed at the two of you. “I’ll get the next round.”

Your other friend plucked her skewer of olives out of her empty martini and bit one off as she pushed the glass toward her cousin. 

“I’ll have another.”

She collected the glass with a hard, neutral face and clacked away, needing to cool off away from the two of you. Maybe a conversation with that cute bartender would help. Your friend next to you, however, didn’t seem phased. She was running her wooden skewer over her lips, a glazed look in her eye. You followed her gaze to the group of guys standing at the corner of the bar. Something she was only able to do because your other friend had left. You snapped your eyes back to the table as soon as you saw them. You stirred your drink and tried to think of something to bring your friend’s mind back to your table. 

Your other friend, thankfully, returned with your drinks then. 

“You two sure are quiet,” she observed, sliding her cousin her drink. 

Your friend bit off her other olive, holding it with her teeth as she pulled it off the stick more than a little seductively. Her eyes were still trained past your friend. You gulped your drink, too afraid to say anything. You stared at her over your glass, pleading she would read your mind. 

Eventually she looked at her cousin’s blissed out expression, as her position hadn’t changed since she had left and with a little smile said, “If you’re interested, that guy hasn’t stopped looking at you since he walked in.”

You set your drink down with a clunk. You were going to kill both of them. 

Your friend giggled. She picked up her glass and took a delicate, almost coquettish, sip. “No,” she said setting it down so lightly you almost didn’t hear it. “All of them have been staring over here since they walked in.” 

Her cousin, with her back to their eyes had the most freedom of expression. Her mouth dropped open in surprise and shock and then formed back into a smile. You could hear her hum with excitement. There was the same wicked glint in both of their eyes.

Oh no, you thought.

“What do you want to do?” she whispered, leaning forward to her cousin.  

Her eyes broke away from the man she was staring at across the bar and met her cousin’s, a shameless smile still painted her face. 

“I’m going to go over there and ask him if he likes what he sees.”

You felt the pit of your stomach drop. You weren’t even halfway through your first drink and she was already acting like this. Your friend was just as stunned into silence as you were. She was true to her word though. She spun out of her chair and walked around you, more hairspray and perfume wafting off of her, to the group of men lurking in the shadows. 

Your other friend grabbed your arm. 

“What’s going on? I can’t see!” she whispered excitedly in your ear. 

You very slightly turned your head, blush creeping over your face, and tried to make out what was happening. You could see your friend’s bright red shirt as she leaned against the bar. There was nothing you could make out of the guy she was talking to, just that he had a well-muscled arm holding a bottle of beer. 

“How many did you say there were?” you asked your friend in a whisper.

“Three,” she answered, “Why?”

“Because I can’t-” You were squinting into the corner trying to make out the other figures when your friend turned quickly around, spraying out her hair in a heavy curtain around her as she bounced back toward the table. She had a small smile on her face and the man’s hand in hers. 

You both sat up straight and pretended you hadn’t been spying and gossiping the whole time as she walked him over to your table and around to her chair. You could smell his warmth and cologne as he passed behind you. 

“Guys!” she gushed pulling the mohawked man close to her. Her hand pressed into the front of his white shirt as if he was already a friend. “This is John, but you can call him Soap!” 

He tipped his beer at the two of you and you both politely greeted him.

“Hope you don’t mind my friends and I joining you ladies. Promise we’ll behave,” he said in a Scottish accent with a sparkle in his blue eyes. As much as it was irritating you now, your friend had a knack for finding interesting guys. 

Wait, your brain stopped mid-drink as you tried to hide your nerves. Friends? Plural?

A hand, and then a face, and then a body broke in between you and your other friend. He smelled shower-fresh, minty fresh even. She looked up at the tall, dark, and handsome man in a sky blue t-shirt that had appeared, with eyes blown wide and was instantly smitten. 

“Hi,” he said softly. His London accent familiar to your ears. He set his beer on the table between the two of you. “I’m Kyle, Soap’s friend.”

Your friend didn’t say anything, her brain must have short-circuited when she saw the cute little mustache above Kyle’s mouth. 

You heard Soap snort into his beer. Everyone turned to look at him. 

“Kyle,” he said sarcastically.

Kyle laughed back, toying with his bottle. “Real name’s Kyle, but you can call me Gaz, like my friends do, if you want.”

“Kyle’s a nice name,” your friend said sweetly. He looked over to her and they both smiled, a soft ‘thanks’ trapped between them. You almost missed him throwing his coat on the back of her chair, the smell of leather fanning out as he did so. 

That’s two, you thought. Where’s the last one?

You felt a hand land on the top corner of your chair. The vibration it caused sent a shiver down your spine. You clenched your hands in your lap, wishing yourself to disappear. A large presence walked behind you as you heard the arm drag across your leather jacket. You let yourself look at his hand as he set his glass on the table. You blushed, eyes wide. Damn. He had big hands. 

“Ghost!” Soap greeted his friend with a little nod. “Nice of you to join us,” he said bring his beer to his lips. 

“Bartender took ‘is sweet time,” he said gruffly. 

Oh god. He had a deep voice too. It’s normal for a bigger guy to have a deeper voice but goddamn is his an octave deeper than it has any right to be. And he wasn’t local, just like Soap. You would have to ask your friends later where he was from. They at least grew up here.  

“Oh?” Soap said with a quirk of his expressive eyebrows.

Ghost took his glass off the table. “Not too happy with this,” he said gesturing to all of you around the table, “Think we ruined his plans.”

Your friend next to Gaz groaned, her hand covering her face as everyone turned to look at her.

“He . . . didn’t charge me for our drinks,” she admitted shyly.

You couldn’t help but join in the laugh over that. The poor guy, your poor friend, you thought. Kyle soothed her, telling her she didn’t have to worry, as she let her hands fall in his. It was almost too sweet to watch. 

“Right then, guess the next round is on me then,” Soap said guiltily pointing his bottle toward himself. Several glasses and bottles were immediately pushed his way and he deflated with a sigh. Your friend giggled at that. 

As he left, you relaxed back into your chair. You had thought the worst when your friend had pulled those guys over here, but, for once, it turned out okay. They seemed fun. The air around you was filled with soothing scents: their hoppy beer and sharp whiskey mixed with your fruity cocktails and wine, musky cologne and soft leather over floral perfume and hairspray.

“Hope we aren’t interrupting your night,” Gaz said leaning over to talk to your friend. 

“Oh no,” she said urgently shaking her head, “it’s no problem. Actually, we had all just been talking about how boring our lives were lately.” 

“Boring? Really? What do you all do?” he asked. 

“I’m a lawyer,” your friend said proudly.

“Shit, really?” Soap said returning to the table, hands full of drinks. “Smart an’ pretty, eh? Some girls have all the luck.”

She smiled, basking in his compliments. She looked at you across the table, fresh drink pushed in front of her. 

“We work together,” she said proudly pointing to you. You buried your face in your glass. 

“No shit,” Soap said looking back and forth between you two, “Both lawyers?”

You wished you could die, right there. Your mouth was full of alcohol, but you shook your head. Your friend took pity on you and, with a laugh, said, “No, she’s our receptionist. Keeps me organized and on time. The whole office, really.” 

Your eyes silently thanked her for going easy on you. Your heart slowed back to normal. She could have said so much more, so much more that was very personal to you, but she didn’t. You thanked whatever deity was out there that she wasn’t a rambling drunk. 

“That’s cool,” Gaz said turning to the woman next to him. “What about you?”

“I’m a speech therapist. I work with the university mostly and the hospitals when they need me,” she said sweetly.

“You’re a doctor then?” he asked.

“No, not yet,” she said with a shake of her head, reaching for her wine, “Maybe in a few years, though.”

“And!” your friend said reaching across the table to grab the woman’s hand, “we’re cousins!”

“Really?” Gaz said as him and Soap looked over their two faces. “Could have passed for-”

“Sisters?” they said together. 

Another laugh rang out around the table as you quietly finished your drink. You set it down in front of you, not ready to ask for another. Even the thought of asking for one of them to buy you a drink was twisting a knot in your stomach. You rarely drank, even out with your friends, so you planned on having a water next. The man behind you didn’t miss it though. You saw him point and Soap was quick to swipe it from you. You tried to protest, but your friend had started a conversation with Gaz that grabbed your attention.

“How did all of you meet?”

“Military,” he answered quickly and less warmly than he had before. His eyes met the man’s behind you as he turned to sip his beer. 

“Ooooh,” your friend cooed. Soap had just returned with your drink, which you quietly thanked him for, as he took his place back by her side. “Soap, why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Didn’ ye’ see my tattoo?” he said holding out his left arm. 

You and your friend across the table got the first and best look. She was babbling to Gaz as your friend pulled him around to get a look for herself. She was cooing again as she smoothed her hands up his arm.

“What is it?” she asked, head cocked to the side.

“It’s the crest for SAS: Special Air Service,” he said softly, her fingers still massaging over his skin. 

“You fly?” she asked excitedly.

“Not personally,” he said with a chuckle. “Been in enough helicopters to fill a lifetime, though. Right Gaz?”

Gaz scowled into his beer. “Got that damn right,” he answered wearily, clearly bringing up a bad experience. 

“So you all work together?” your other friend said to Gaz, “Like as a-”

“Team? Yeah,” he answered. 

“That’s so cool! How long?” she asked.

“A couple of years now, give or take,” he said looking over at Soap, who shrugged in response. 

You listened to the conversation ping-pong back and forth across the table. No one seemed to mind you just sitting there listening as you slowly sipped your drink. Gaz and Soap told more stories about their shared experiences, your friends fawning over their every word. You leaned over your glass, checking out of the conversation. You were more interested in the man behind you. Why wasn’t he saying anything? He couldn’t be shy like you, not a military guy, surely not. 

“But no, really. How did you guys find this place?” your friend asked Gaz. Soap had his arm fully wrapped around her and she was leaning back into him.

“I’ve been coming here for a while, back before it was sold. When we all got back into the country I thought-”

“It would be a great place to get this guy out for a night.” Soap interrupted, pointing at the man behind you. 

“I said the same thing about her!” your friend burst out. 

You wanted to sink into the floorboards again.

“We’ve got more than one thing in common, then,” you heard the man behind you comment darkly into his glass. 

His voice sent tremors down your spine. It was low and gravelly. Probably just from his drink you tell yourself. No one else noticed what he said.  

Your hand flexed on your glass, still mostly full. What did he mean by that? More than one thing in common? Ghost leaned in just a bit to set his glass next to your hands. A slip of the amber liquid still sliding around the bottom. Oh god, you can smell him. He’s got this natural, understated, manly smell. It’s probably just soap and laundry detergent but he made it musky and dark, notes of copper and grease and fire crinkling around the edges. It’s making your head spin. You wished you had been braver before, when they had first came over, and gotten a good look at him. 

A loud giggle from your friend in Gaz’s arms pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“I don’t believe you . . .” she said through her laughter.

“No, for real, ask Soap!” he said pointing with his beer across the table.

“Wha’s that?” Soap asked pulling his face away from your friend. 

“Gaz says you like to dance. Is that true?”

Soap’s face lit up, a manic energy possessing him. “Oh hell yes I do! Same as Gaz,” he answered, “D’ you ladies like to dance too?”

Your mind kicks into overdrive. Dancing? This was not a part of the plan for the night. 

“There is this club I've wanted to go back to. . .” your friend said melting into Soap’s chest, eyes pleading. 

“I’d go!” Soap said looking down into her eyes. She’s in heaven, in her element, loving it.

“Me too!” your other friend said excitedly, pushing her wine into the middle of the table. 

“Sounds like a plan then,” Gaz said with a little duck of his head.

All at once, the four of them turn around to look at you and Ghost. 

“What about you, Lt?” Soap asks the man behind you. You’d never heard that abbreviation before. You wonder what it stood for. His initials?

You held your breath.

“Gotta keep an eye on you two,” he said flatly, a lint of exhaustion or boredom in his tone. Soap’s smile was practically blinding. 

Your friends take a different approach to convincing you. They each grab at your hands and beg, actually beg, you to come with them.

“Please?” your friend pleads “It’ll be so much fun! We don’t have to go out for long!”

You look at the two of them unsure what to say. You weren’t mad about how things were turning out. It was interesting, if anything. It was annoying that you didn’t get to stay home or have a night alone with your friends, but drinks and dancing with some handsome military men was hardly the end of the world. At least you were slowly convincing yourself of it. They are so lucky that you’ve had just enough alcohol to make you feel light and happy.

“Yeah, okay,” you replied softly.

They both jumped out of their chairs to hug you, squealing that you wouldn’t regret it. 

Everything happens very quickly around you after that. Soap and your friend are at the bar closing out their tabs. Gaz is helping your other friend into her jacket, talking about which way they should walk. Going across the bridge would be colder, but safer, he says. 

You took one last, long, swig of your drink, finishing half of it. You rubbed the imprint of your black lipstick left on the rim. You touched your bottom lip. You probably should have ran to the bathroom to touch up your makeup at some point, but there’s no time now. As you shifted forward to hop out of your seat, Ghost handed you your jacket. You said a soft “thank you” but he was walking away as soon as you took it from his hands. You don’t even know if he heard you. It shouldn’t have, but it crumpled your heart just a little bit.

-

Business at the bar cleaned up, you all gathered at the door and headed out. Your friends and their guys, their arms gently around their shoulders and waists, took the lead. The walk itself was refreshing. You watched the laughter and conversations dance in the cool air in front of you, too far back to listen in and not really interested anyway. You blow a puff of air out to watch it trail behind you, reminding you of the smoke you can’t have, that you don’t need. The night air is cutting into your buzz, but doesn’t make you forget the tall man walking behind you, bringing up the rear. 

It made you wonder how tall he actually is. Soap and Gaz seem to be of average, if a bit taller, than normal height. The man behind you: Ghost, Lt, seemed taller. Roughly a hand or so, if you can judge by how both of them needed to look up when they looked behind you to talk to him. Good lord, you clench your hands in your pockets, your knees suddenly feel like jelly. 

And what about what he said before, that you “had things in common”. It stuck in your brain, repeating over and over. Soap had been talking about how Ghost didn’t go out, just like you. So he was a loner, like you. That wasn’t hard to imagine, given his career and all that. But what else? You had no earthly clue what he saw in common with you. You sighed, another vapor trail winding out of your lips. Maybe he was just that much more observant. 

One thing you do know is that, eventually, he’s going to get sick of you. A familiar knot forms in your stomach. If he’s pursuing the same thing his friends are, with their hands roaming more boldly with every block, he’ll either shoot his shot or wander off once you reach the club. You know it. You haven’t even said a word to him tonight. That's how these things usually end for you. The guys you like never seem to like you.

You reach the club just as your feet start to chafe in your boots. You can hear the music pulsing from outside. As you walk in, it’s loud and crowded, but it’s not terrible. You usually hate this: big crowds, smoke, a hundred tightly-packed voices yelling, loud music, the floor sticky and the lights strobing through the darkness. For what reason you can’t say, but tonight you actually can’t wait to cut loose, to feel normal like your friends do. You’ve come this far, drinking and spending time with strangers, you might as well dance to some awful techno music and shake off this stressful week. 

You have a small hope that the big guy, Ghost, will shoot his shot. Maybe it’s all the small things he’s been doing thought the night. Having Soap get you another drink, handing you your coat, walking protectively behind you, he even took your coat from you to give to the coat-check.

-

The building is a large box, an old industrial space converted into a trendy night club. A bar on one end, DJ booth on the other, and the dance floor filling everything in between. The floor and the bar are equally packed tonight with only a sliver of empty space separating them from each other. 

You all snake along in a single file line until Soap and your friend reach the bar. You watch as they lean against it together and order a couple more outrageously overpriced drinks. They turn around, backs to the bar, and usher everyone to join around them. Gaz leads your other friend to stand a little beyond the other couple, next to a steel column they can lean against. Left to find your own space, you form the last leg of a triangle between your two other friends, your back to the dance floor. Ghost, of course, hovers just behind you, protecting you from the other patrons as they push their way to and from the bar. You’re silently thankful for it. Even in heels, you’re very easy to knock over. Ghost didn’t have that problem. Everyone settles in and relaxes again, heads and legs bopping to the music. 

Soap and Gaz make conversation with your friends, which you can’t hear. The pounding bass makes talking to anyone not immediately next to you an effort. The song ends and another starts. You see your other friend excitedly start to sing along to the lyrics. 

Dancing in the moonlight, gazing at the stars so bright. Holding you until the sunrise, sleeping until the midnight.

Gaz smiles at her, joining in. It’s cute. It keeps your mind and eyes off of Soap slipping his hand around to palm your friend’s ass.  

There’s a shout behind you, which you almost ignore as just another part of the song or ordinary club sounds. Ghost’s hand on your shoulder, pushing you into the middle of the space you had carved out, to safety, is what scares you. Before you can turn around, Soap is launching away from the bar. A scuffle had started on the dance floor right next to you. You watch as Soap hauls a guy about to throw a very drunken punch back by his collar. You can tell they’re not just friends but a team by the way Ghost catches him from Soap, turns him around and boots him towards the door. 

Gaz slams a palm to the chest of a guy that peeled out of the crowd to defend his buddy. He barks an order at him and he obeys, throwing his hands up and turning away. You wouldn’t have believed it came out of soft, funny, Gaz if you hadn’t seen it. Those two guys must have been the main cause of the fight, because the bouncers show up not long after and clean out the rest of the rabble peacefully. 

“Nice work: Lt, Gaz,” you hear Soap say to his teammates, patting each of them on the shoulder before cozying back up to your friend. 

If she wasn’t seduced by now, that little display sure as hell had her. The music is too loud, but you swear you hear him say something to her about “protecting their girls”. She leans over and whispers something fiery into his ear, if you can guess from her enunciation. From the look in her eye, she’s not playing coy anymore. Not a beat passes before your friend is shoving her beer into your hand as Soap pulls her onto the dance floor, her eyes never leaving his. They shove their way into the crowd, disappearing from view. 

Wasted, sippin’ on that liquor, you can taste it. Girl don’t touch that drink I know you laced it. I don’t know what to say except your mine mine mine.

You sigh listening to the music and take a sip. It’s warm and tastes horrible, too hoppy for your palette. You wince at the sour taste, but knock back the rest of it anyway. Anything to keep your mind off of Gaz and your other friend practically making out against the bar not two feet behind you. She breaks away from him, probably not wanting to continue being so intimate right next to you, and heads for the dance floor. Gaz doesn’t think twice before following her, his hand quickly winding around her hip, hers joining. A signal to everyone around. He’s mine. She’s with me. Back off.

You sigh into the empty beer bottle. Yeah, you miss that. You set the bottle on the bar, leaning forward against it for support. The optimistic mood you walked in with crushed. You’re ready to cut your losses and just leave. Only the thought of the cold, lonely walk back to your apartment tempting you to stay.

“Wanna join them?” Ghost asks you, back to the bar where he had slid up next to you, him arms crossed across his broad chest. 

His voice is right in your ear, easily able to cut through the music and a thousand other noises. You’re absolutely positive he saw you shiver. You look up at him, finally, and it’s too much all at once. Your stomach clenches and you feel the bile catch in your throat. Your hand flies to your mouth. You’ve drunk too much. You’re not used to it. That’s why, you try to convince yourself. You’re a terrible liar though. 

The first thing you see is his sleeve of tattoos that warp around his left arm, mostly skulls and flames from what you can make out. They’re large, well muscled arms. He’s not just tall but thick too. It finally clicks together in your head. Oh, that’s what he meant when he said you had things in common. He must have seen your own skull on your shoulder. 

Could have been staring at it all night. 

You tear your wide eyes away from his arm to his face and it’s the worst mistake you’ve made all night. He’s too fucking handsome. He has short, natural blonde hair and dark, hooded eyes. They’re staring at you like they’re just so tired, they just want a place to rest. His whole face is littered with long-healed scars that you can barely make out. You can see a deep one running through his right eyebrow. He has a typical English face: long, with high cheekbones set against a long, crooked nose. And his mouth. Oof, you catch your bottom lip in your mouth. 

He’s only asking you to dance to be nice, to stay next to his friends. There is no way, absolutely no way, he’s interested in you: just standing there, blushing like a fool, staring at his mouth and nodding your head like an idiot. He’s too hot. You’re too drunk. Your brain can’t pull a sentence together, but yes, you do want to dance.

His right hand gestures for you to lead as a whining, grinding beat starts to scream out of the speakers. Maybe you are drunk, because you feel like you’re wading through jello trying to walk away from him under his gaze. With him behind you, however, you’re able to part through the crowd to your friends. All you have to do is follow the flashes of bright red, blue, green, and white of your friend’s clothes through the jostle of the sea of bodies.

Soap and your friend are pressed against each other, chest to back, locked into a battle for dominance. They're goading each other, a slid of a hand here, a press of a leg there, neither willing to give in to the other. She pulls away, shimmying her hips so tantalizingly close yet so far away, and then he’s pulling her back. He’s mouthing the lyrics to the song as you and Ghost stop next to them.

So just when you think true love’s begun, it goes off at any second like a loaded gun.

Gaz and your other friend are more languid in comparison, not kissing anymore but pressed chest to chest, hands sweetly holding onto each other as their hips and legs flow to the beat. You see them smiling and talking to each other, but you can't hear through the music. Ghost took his usual spot behind you when you stopped. He seemed to like that position, the watchman of your little group, of his friends and yours.

You know I can take you straight to heaven if you let me. You know I, I  can make your body levitate if you let me.

Your friend screeches out your name. She untangles herself form Soap to step over to you and pull you into a hug.

“So happy you came to dance!” She yells in your ear before pulling away. 

Soap’s arm is possessively winding right back around her waist, resting on her stomach. His other hand pinches her hip to pull her attention back to him, a devilish gleam in his eye. You can’t hear her, but she motions for you to cut loose, start dancing, before grabbing behind her to pinch Soap’s ear. 

Ghost touches your arm. You look back at him. His deep voice is in your ear again. Fuck, your faces are right next to each other. 

“This okay?” 

His hand is hesitantly resting on your waist. You can feel his thumb pressing against your back, reaching almost to your spine. His fingers splay from the bottom of your rib cage to your hipbone. Fuck, he’s got big hands. Of course he does, he’s a big guy. You feel like you’re going to combust.

You nod, your heart pounding in your throat, guiding his hand to rest lower on your hip. It isn’t long before his other hand does the same. You rest your hands on his and start to sway your hips to the beat. You feel the warmth from his chest bleed across your back.  

Your bodies together, you guide him to move to the music with you. Funny, you think, he’s been the one guiding and watching all night. Now is your chance to do the same for him. You zone out, join the jostle of the crowd, the beat of the music. You close your eyes against the bright pulse of the lights and melt back into him. A bubble forms in your chest and it makes you want to cry. Your head rests back on his chest. You feel so protected. 

The song changes and your eyes open. It slows to a remix of something more intimate and the lights follow, growing dimmer until they barely cut through the smoke. You can't even see your friends in front of you. You absently stroke Ghost’s hands to the lyrics. 

Mirror on the wall, tell me all the ways to stay away-ay ya, away-ay ya, and stay away-ay ya, away-ay ya, away-ay ya. 

You whine as his hands curls around to your stomach, his strong fingers pressing you to him. He can’t hear you, so your hands on his are all the communication you can give him. You wind your fingers in his. It’s your consent, your plea. Your head is swimming with emotions. Please stay. Please continue. Please touch me. Please show me that I’m just as worthy of human contact as anyone else. Please please please please. 

You feel his breath rustle the hair on the top of your head. It’s a sweet feeling. The two of you are hardly dancing anymore, barely shuffling back and forth. He presses his face into your hair, right above your ear, and you swear you hear him groan as you grind your ass to his pelvis. The friction of his rough jeans against the plush of your ass in your silky leggings is deliciously addicting. It shoots a spark right through your core. 

If I could paint the sky would all the stars then shine a bloody red?

Boldly, you snake your hand up and touch his face. You feel the light stubble across the bottom of his jaw. He immediately stills and melts into your palm. You assume the worst until he sinks his head back to your ear.

“Wanna get outta here,” he mumbles in a voice that makes you clench. 

The way he says it, it’s not a question. He’s leaving. He’s letting you know. If you want to follow, that’s your choice. 

You nod your head again, almost ashamed how quickly you’re letting this happen. You can feel all of the excuses you want to say bubbling in your head: I don't normally do things like this. Go out drinking. Or dancing. Hook up with guys I just met. Guys I’ve barely talked to.

He presses a kiss you your ear and then he’s pulling away, his hand trailing across the lace on your back as he turns. You’re ready to move immediately, all lazy, lusty haze gone. Your hand finds his again and you press close, afraid to lose him in the dark as he parts a path through the crowd. 

You grab your coats and you’re back out into the cold night air. It punches at the butterflies in your stomach. You both shimmy fully into your jackets as you walk out the door, his pace leaving no time for you to do so inside. Once you’ve followed him past the flock of people hanging around the entrance: smoking, yelling, trying to hail a cab, he pulls you to his side, hand protectively wrapping around your shoulder.

Once you’ve put a block behind you, you realize how quiet it is, how quiet you both are. Your heart starts to pound. God, you’re about to go home with a guy you haven’t spoken a word to! You don’t even know his real name! You can’t help but look up at him a little afraid. This is how all those sensational murder mysteries start, isn’t it?

“Wanna go back?” He asks stopping, his hand dropping off your shoulder. 

You shake your head, finally saying something. “No! I just-” you can’t help but get caught up in the moment. What a guy, he would really walk you back to your friends if you wanted. You pull your hands around yourself for warmth. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Simon” he says nonchalantly. 

You smile. Simon. The bubble expands in your chest again. You tell him your name, and, almost as a force of habit, you hold out your hand to shake. He grabs it softly. You can feel the rough skin of his fingers and palms across the back of your hand as he holds it. You can feel yourself blushing. 

He pulls you into his chest and gives your butt a pat with his other hand. 

“So,” he rumbles into your ear, “who’s place are we headed to: mine or yours?”

-

Songs referenced: 

Dancin’ (KRONO Remix) - Aaron Smith SPIT IN MY FACE! - ThxSoMch Levitate - Hollywood Undead Black Out Days - Phantogram

a/n: Feel free to tell me what an ancient, cringe-fail, writer I am for not only putting lyrics in my fic but for picking these songs specifically in the tags. 😅 I also had too much fun writing reader's friends with Soap and Gaz. Maybe more of them in parts 3 and 4? 👀

#starry writes #mw2 #ghost/reader #call of duty #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #second real and polished fic ever! 🥳 #part two next week maybe? i literally just have to edit it

[extra-stout-stories]

(In response to this ask for "a short story about a feedee becoming increasingly out of shape as they gain.")

I can't believe I've done this to myself.

I always wanted to lose weight. At least I thought I did. For as long as I can remember, I've been fat. And the world has never been kind to fat people.

Okay, there was a part of me that secretly liked it. A part of me that didn't mind the stares and the insults and the teasing. A part of me that even got a little excited by the thought that I was the biggest person in gym class, so soft and heavy that just a single lap on the track would leave me breathless and bright red. After all, my favorite hobbies were all sedentary ones. And I loved food. It's no wonder I was fat. It's no wonder I was fat and soft and out of shape, when my favorite thing to do on a Friday evening was beach myself in front of my computer with a six-pack of soda, a large pizza and a bag of candy.

But I did what I was supposed to do. I ran and stretched and lifted and sweated. I counted calories and tried to resist the things I knew I wasn't supposed to eat.

I did these things, but they never took. Exercise was so boring and uncomfortable. Sticking to a routine was so difficult. And there were so many foods to try… I could "waste" an entire week's work in the gym in a meal or two, if I let myself eat the things I really wanted. Maybe I'd lose five or ten pounds here and there. Maybe once every few years I'd manage to drop twenty or thirty. But they always came back, and more pounds came with them.

And I secretly liked that, too.

When everyday tasks started getting difficult, I took that as a sign that I needed to turn my life around. I shouldn't be getting winded tying my shoes, I thought. I just have to lose a little of this belly. As usual, I managed to do it, to keep up with a diet and a gym routine… for a few weeks.

But that secret voice kept calling to me. Heaving myself up from my armchair, stuffed and breathless from a routine of meals and snacks that started around lunchtime and didn't stop until my last snack before bedtime, I couldn't help wondering: how would it feel if I gained more? What if my belly were just a little bigger?

With no other responsibilities, I started to arrange my life around my nightly binges. Exercise and diets became a thing of the past, for good this time. Sometimes I'd struggle to do something that used to come easily, a bend or a reach or an attempt to fit somewhere, a walk that used to feel effortless, and get scared that I had gone too far. But then I'd lean back and heft my belly and feel how gigantically soft and heavy it was growing. I can't believe I've done this to myself. I can't believe I've done this to myself… and I love it.

And that's where you come in.

With remote work, I can spend all day at home. With you moving in with me, I can spend all day at home and never have to get up at all. You tell me I don't need to. In fact, you insist on it. And on the rare occasions I do, for a short waddle to the bathroom or the bedroom or a trip to the fridge, you love to watch how difficult it is for me.

I love it too. Feeling my face get flushed and red, feeling the sweat trickling down my forehead, feeling the sheer effort it takes to heft one gigantic thigh past another, pushing my enormous belly with every step… feeling your eyes on me, my face flushes even further, and it's not just from the exertion. When I look over at you and see your eyes shining with lust and excitement for how big I've grown, I reach down my belly as far as I can, grab a billowing fold of flesh, jiggle and squeeze. And I smile.

I'm never going back to the gym. How could I, when I can barely leave the house?

#feedist vignettes #weight gain fiction #wg fiction #just a fantasy but I'm sweatin'

[ophelia-ophelian]

“Coffee calms me down” “...What?”

Summary: As someone who drinks coffee later in the day to calm down after a long day, the amount of people who have been bewildered by me are…a lot. So I’m turning the “people,” into the Brothers. And yes, some of the things the Brothers say are things actually said to me.💀 Also, I barely write kissy scenes, so I'm trying it out on this post, I'm open to criticism^^

You were filling out tasks and homework from RAD in a corner of the library at home, the click of the grandfather clock and the crackle of the fireplace left the place somewhat quiet. Of course, after years of living with the brothers, you’ve learned to drown out some of the more rambunctious noises. After finishing your last assignment, you put your stuff away and walked to the kitchen for some coffee so you could calm down and get a good night’s rest – without Mammon or Levi bursting in to talk or rant. As you get your mug and begin to walk out, you see him standing in the doorway with a curious look.

“Why are you getting coffee? Shouldn’t you be sleeping later?”

“Oh, I drink coffee to calm down. It helps me sleep, actually!”

Lucifer

…What? Was his first thought. Lucifer drinks – more like clings to – coffee everyday to stay somewhat awake and alert. How do you have the opposite effect? Is there something wrong with you? Or was that a normal thing for humans? Picking up on his confusion, you tell him that some people’s bodies process certain foods and drinks differently. As you two continue talking, your conversation shifts from Beel’s Fangol game, Asmo’s new vlog, Levi’s gaming channel, Mammon. 

“So, how are your tasks coming along, Dearest? Anything I can aid you with?”

“Not really,” you yawn and stretch, “It just gets boring sometimes, I don’t like sitting in class for hours and then doing assignments for a couple extra hours.”

“Well, if you would like, you can come to my office and you can work next to me. I can’t promise a conversation, but I can keep you company and on track.”

“You would do that for me?”

“Of course,” he moves to embrace you, “I could even get your own desk.” He brings you in closer and moves you on the counter top. “As long as you keep on task, you can stay,” he leans up to give you a chaste kiss. “And if you sleep in my bedroom more, I’ll let you use my coffee maker. But, now that you’ve finished your drink, come to bed.”

Mammon

“Huh? Is something wrong with ya?” He exclaims. Quickly trying to swallow his words, he waves his hands around trying to explain himself. “No no no, I ain’t mean it like that. It’s just that coffee wakes every demon up! I know yer a human, but Solomon drinks coffee to wake up. It’s not like I’m sayin’ that yer a bad kind of weird – I mean ya not weird! But how does that even work?” 

You smile at him annoyed, obviously you weren’t weird, it’s just that not every human reacts the same way to the same food or drink. You just say that not every human is the same and he laughs as if he already knew that. You both continue a casual conversation as he walks you back to your room, except he doesn’t leave at your door, he follows you in. So much for having a peaceful night…But it’s okay, he’s your first demon afterall.

Leviathan

“Oh, okay.”

Huh? Levi wasn’t confused? 

“I mean, one of my gaming buddies does that. I drink energy drinks as well to focus during hours-long raids. It doesn’t relax me, but it’s easier to focus.”

Well, that’s nice. You didn’t have to explain to him or deal with him being shocked or even calling you weird.

“Well anyways,” he walks over to the fridge and grabs an energy drink, “I found this new adaptation of TSL and it’s airing at midnight tonight. You can join me if you want BTW…even if I am just a yucky otaku.” 

You sigh inwardly, “Levi, we have the same interests. If you’re a yucky otaku, what does that make me?” He quickly starts shaking his head apologizing profusely, exclaiming That’s not what I meant, and, I’m so sorry. You laugh to yourself and move to hug and shush him. “Come on, let’s grab some snacks and head to your room.”

After you settle into his room, he lays on your lap and you play with his hair. Midnight finally comes and he shoots up, exclaiming It’s starting! It’s starting! He looks to you to start explaining the behind the scenes of this adaptation, just to see that you drifted off to sleep. He sighs and takes in the sight, you’re quite peaceful when you’re not breaking down doors and going along with his brothers’ schemes. 

A couple moments pass as he decides to shake you awake, “Come on, it’s starting soon.”

Satan

“Hm, interesting. I read somewhere online that some humans and some demons don’t get energy from stimulants such as caffeine. Although, I do wonder if angels are the same, I’ll have to ask Simeon later.”

You smile, you don’t have to explain. He begins talking about how some stimulants work for some as a depressant and vice versa. You listen intently, even if you already know – it’s nice to listen to his voice. You sit up on the counter and begin sipping, the warmness of the coffee being soothing already. He grabs a snack from the cabinet and walks up in front of you. He continues talking and you continue listening. He asks if you want a bite and you nod. He offers it up to your lips. 

How corny.

You take a bite and he wipes the corner of your mouth. He smiles and presses a soft kiss to your cheek and leans on your shoulder. You place your coffee down and rub his back as he rests his hands around your waist. You both just sit there enjoying each other’s presence. He mumbles something about going to bed and kisses your jaw. He chuckles at you squirming away from him and he pulls you in, ghosting his lips over yours before smiling and pulling away. He squeezes your thigh and moves to grab your hand, leading you away from the kitchen and to your room. As you reach your bedroom, he kisses your knuckles and then your forehead, wishing you sweet dreams.

Occasionally, when you’re awake late at night, there will conveniently be a warm cup of bitter coffee waiting for you on your nightstand.

Asmodeus

“Oh! You’re…interesting. Not in a bad way! But, you’re…different, aren’t you?”

You stare at him, is he being for real right now?

“Kidding! I love you matter what, babe,”

“Asmodeus.”

“I’m messing with youuuuuu. You can be weird in your own way, Pookie.”

You scoff, “You did not just call me that. I told you to stop calling me those weird nicknames.”

“But Shnookums…” Asmo trails on, elongating the ending syllables, beginning to hang on you. 

“Stop it, Asmo,” you say as you giggle, “they’re getting worse.” He leans more onto you and you try to push him off. He litters your face with kisses and traps you in his arms as you try to get away and laugh a bit harder.

“You can be my weird lover, you’ll balance out my extravagance. We can,” he squishes your face with his hands and kisses you, “be,” kiss, “the perfect,” kiss, “couple.” You laugh and cuddle into his arms. He sways and you laugh together.

“Although,” he continues, “you need a mint, you have coffee breath.”

“...Asmo I haven’t even drunk any yet,” you turn to him.

“Oh.”

You swat at his arm and he giggles and exclaims that he was kidding as he tries to hug you again. He ends up backing you against the counter as he leans over and kisses you. Breathing out softly against your lips, he smiles and slides your coffee off to the side.

“I love you,” he whispers against your neck and he places yet another soft kiss to your neck, then your jaw, up to the corner of your lips, and then…he steals your coffee and takes a drink. “Mmm, this is too sweet, I’ll make you something really bitter and send you off to sleep,” he smiles and starts brewing you a new cup.

Beelzebub

“Huh, cool,” he shrugs and moves to the fridge. “I used to drink coffee. Not for relaxation, but Asmo suggested it since it curbs hunger for some people. It didn’t curb my hunger, it just gave me a horrible stomach ache.” He shuffles through the shelves looking for nothing in particular. “I told him about it, actually, and he told me that no one should have coffee on an empty stomach because it makes you so prone to stomach pains,” he grabs a pudding cup and goes to the silverware drawer, “So, I stopped drinking it overall. But it’s cool that it works differently for everyone.

Lucifer uses it for staying awake, Levi doesn’t drink coffee but his energy drinks keep him focused I guess, I think Satan is more of a tea guy but I’ve seen him drink coffee. I don’t think Asmo drinks coffee anymore because it gives him such bad breath. Hm,” He ponders for a moment, “I wonder if Belphie will react like you. Can you brew another cup for him, please?”

As he begins eating his pudding cup and you go to brew another cup, Beel begins to talk about his Fangol game last weekend. As he recounts, you comment occasionally on what he looked like from the stands and how well he played. You finished the second cup and he grabbed it from you with a kiss on the forehead.

“Thank you, Love.”

Belphegor 

He hums, “Can I have some?”

“Sure thing, Bubs, I’ll grab another mug.”

“Nuh uh, come here,” he walks over to you and takes the mug from you. He takes a sip, “Thank you. It’s a bit too hot for you still so I’ll hold onto it till it cools down.” He raises it back to his lips and takes a longer sip.

“Hey! That’s for me, Belphegor,” as you go to grab it, he raises his arm, “Hey! That’s not going to work on me, give it to me.” He chuckles and hands it back to you. “Thank you,” you raise the mug to your lips, “...Belphegor. This is empty.”

“Oh hey! Would you look at that! Guess you will have to come with me and I can put you to sleep,” He leans on you and nuzzles into your neck. He traces his fingers up and down your arms and smiles into your neck when he feels you shiver. You squirm as you try to pry him off you.

“I want my coffee, Love. Let me make another cup.”

“It’s fine, I’ll make you one.”

“No, it’ll be too bitter.”

“Aw, don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s sweet.”

“Belphegor, out of all of the coffee I’ve had, I can barely drink the coffee you make me because it’s so bitter.”

“Oh hush, just come to bed and I’ll put you to sleep.”

“Ugh, you’re so difficult. Now get off, I want my coffee.” Several moments pass. “Belphie? Belphie!” You nudge him and he grumbles, “Wake up. Fine, I’ll go to bed with you.” He perks up and smiles.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me one master to rule them all #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader

[stephaniebrownslover]

Creepypasta x Reader Flufftober 2023!!!

Day 1;

Given topic: "I've got you"

Characters: Ticci Toby, Masky, Hoodie, Kate The Chaser, Rouge, X-Virus

く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡

As always, another proxy meeting that was considered extremely boring even for your master Slenderman had finally come to an end. Slender Man ended his speech by giving you permission to rest after completing the task he gave you today.

In fact, this was a very rare occurrence, because your Master did not allow his proxies easily, regardless of the reason. Apparently, one of his proxies had achieved a great victory, so he must have been in a good mood. Or, one could say, he felt less cruel than usual.

You realized that the Master had left the room when the threatening atmosphere that had spread during his presence slowly faded away.

You pushed your chair back to get up from the table, while lightly glancing at what the other proxies were doing. Kate was stretching with her arms raised in the air before getting up from the table. Brian, sitting right next to her, was already standing up and waiting for a sign that the Master was fully gone before leaving the meeting room. Tim was sitting by the window and puffing on his cigarette before going on duty. And Heather was babysitting Cody and Toby, who were arguing with each other for an extremely absurd reason, as usual.

It could easily be said that it was a typical Monday.

Instead of all the proxies, mostly the proxies who took on the last follow-up task attended today's meeting. That's why the number of participants was nothing compared to normal.

"Ahem."

By clearing your throat, you broke the silence that was not tense but not comforting either.

The people in the room were your favorite people in the whole house, since they were the ones you talked to the most. Sure, there were times when you hung out with them individually, but you couldn't remember ever doing anything with all of them. Changing this depended on the words coming out of his mouth now.

"Can you look for a second?"

Looking at you were Rouge, Kate, and Hoodie; the ones who didn't look were X-Virus, Masky and Toby.

You had to get their attention somehow or it wouldn't be successful.

"Uh, hey, look here!"

As the other three looked up, Masky puffed on his cigarette and turned to you sarcastically.

"And why the hell are we listenin' you?"

Rouge intervened and supported you in speaking. She must have been curious about what you had to say.

"Shut up Timothy, let (Name) talk."

"Tch. What they'll say better be interesting or I'll feed them to dogs."

"B-bullshit. Y-you're s-scared of dog-s."

Tim, who started to get angry after Toby's intervention, seemed to be having difficulty controlling himself.

He might be the one with the most serious anger issues out of all of you, but that's exactly why it was so fun to annoy him. Toby especially loved getting on her nerves.

"Why don't we try and see, dickface?"

Hoodie couldn't take this nonsense anymore and got angry, seemingly giving up on leaving the room.

"Enough! Please, please don't act like a crybaby for just two minutes!"

"If we're babies, what are you, Hoot-Hoot?" Cody's intervention certainly didn't make things any better.

"Come here you fuckin' brat!"

As Brian made a move in Cody's direction, Cody dramatically put his hand to his forehead; He faked being scared in a very poor quality.

"Oh no, I"m so scared, I'm going to piss myself!"

"Calm down!"

"Brian, calm down. It's not worth it."

Your conversation, which you were not allowed to have, was interrupted again by Kate's intervention.

"Aww how cute. Big bad boy get saved by his little cute girlfriend."

Brian shouted angrily. Everyone in the room understood that he was having a hard time holding himself back.

"For the last time, we are not datin'!"

"Be-because y-you're married."

When Toby said something, Brian exploded and headed towards that side of the room.

"You... Come here you little bastard!"

"So where is your child? I hear your voice every goddamn day."

"Asshole! How dare you make me look like a slut!"

Hearing this, Brian changed direction while running and went to Cody, who was trying to run towards the door of the room. You could predict what was going to happen and unfortunately it wasn't pleasant things.

You took advantage of this opportunity and walked up to Masky, before he had a chance to understand what you were doing, you took his cigarette from his hand and threw it out the window. Then you punched him.

"If you want a fight, just say so, fuckass !"

And while the two of you were having a pretty intense argument, you were also trying to eavesdrop on the other three's conversations.

"Oh my god! Is this true, Kate?"

"No, no. You've got to be kidding. You can't possibly think I'm keeping secrets from you because of these little brats, Rouge."

"You're right. Toby' apologize to your sister Kate."

"What!?"

"W-what!?"

You laughed for a brief moment when the two of them gave similar reactions at the same time.

This caused you to get punched hard in the stomach, causing you to lose your breath a bit. But since you were a proxy and you were used to such things, you quickly recovered and attacked him again.

"I'm just kiddin'. You look like two small potatoes when you're surprised."

"Rouge!"

"I-I-hate you."

"But you're my little potatoes."

It was quite a funny sight as Heather gave Kate and Toby a big hug and they both tried to break free from her steel grip.

It's the kind of image that will distract you and get you punched.

"Leave me!"

"Ew, R-Rouge!"

Heather asked an absurd question with a very serious attitude as she loosen her arms and let them go.

"Do you want to watch (Name) and Tim fight or Brian and Cody fight?"

Kate shrugged.

"Well, Brian and Cody argue all the time. I'm putting my money on Tim."

"I-I am be-betting all the mo-ney in the wal-llet I st-ole from you to (Name)."

When Kate reached into her pocket in surprise, you kicked Tim, trying to knock him off balance.

It didn't work because the bastard was still standing, looking even angrier as if that was possible.

"When did you steal my wallet!?"

"T-tricked you. Heh."

"Calm down, kids! I brought popcorn with me, but we have to wait until the next meeting for the bets."

While you were looking at them out of the corner of your eye, Heather suddenly took out her backpack and grabbed a bag of popcorn. Using her sharp nails, she tore open the full package and sank her nails into it, causing a few corns to sink into her claws. She then put her claws to her mouth and ate the corn there. In short, she used her hands like a fork.

"Let's see if I can invite the murderers in the forest to bet. More money is much better.”

"That's my girl."

You smiled slightly when you heard this, it sure felt great to earn Heather's compliments. More importantly, when Heather said something, she really meant it.

"Do-doesn't your hus-band b-bring enough mo-money to your ho-me?"

"Shut up!"

While you avoided the punch Tim threw at you, you shouted towards where Heather, Kate and Toby were still chatting and eating popcorn.

"How about you stop making money off from us and give a helping hand?"

"Yuuh! I'm t-taking back my mo-money!"

While shouting like a fanatic fan, Toby threw a handful of corn he was holding in his hand towards the place where you were fighting. Since you retreated at the last moment and used Tim as a shield, all of the corn hit Tim.

It definitely wouldn't be fun to wash the oil and salt out of his hair.

"Did you just throw popcorn at me, you fuckin' rat?"

Just as you were being thrown backwards, you looked gratefully at Heather, who grabbed your arms and pulled you to your feet.

"Hey, hey. I've got you."

You didn't hesitate to thank her as you left her arms.

"Thanks, Heatie."

Calling people names was a pretty bad habit you picked up from Cody.

Heather crossed her arms and spoke in a slightly reproachful tone.

"If you want to say thank you, go and break Tim's nose."

"Okay."

You screamed with all your might as you ran and jumped on Tim.

"This is for Rouge!"

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #fanfic #creepypasta headcanon #fanfiction #creepy #ao3 fanfic #rouge #rouge creepypasta #kate the chaser #kate #kate creepypasta #hoodie #hoodie creepypasta #masky #tim masky #masky creepypasta #creepypasta fanfiction #creepypasta fanfic #flufftober #flufftober 2023 #fluff #ticci toby #ticcy toby #tobias erin rogers #tim wright #brian thomas #x virus #cody #cody creepypasta

[imanes]

hey imane, this is such a dumb question but inshallah you will not hate me for it: how do you not want to die when you go to the gym.... i want to improve my health and my parents doomed me to live in the north where the weather is terrible for most of the year, so the gym feels like my best option, but exercise itself is so painful and sweaty and i have never felt this "high" that people talk about getting from exercise! i would appreciate any advice at all! also i finally caught up on demon slayer because of you, it was so good (should i read the manga?) ☆

naaur it's not a dumb question on the contrary!! I've been struggling with keeping up with going to the gym or just exercising in general because it feels like a task to be done rather than something that gives me a high or something so i totally feel you. i do like moving around and feeling like i'm getting stronger (i mostly lift weight + light cardio) but idk about that mental boost people talk about either lmao.

i can only speak from my perspective so my goal at the moment isn't even to do the most at the gym and get me into shape in a month or something, I'm literally just trying to build the habit of going to the gym. heading there is a struggle too so i have to put myself in automatic mode and go no question asked. i also tell my friend to hold me accountable so i send them a pic where i get there otherwise I've given them license to punch me in the arm lmao.

another thing that helped me is switching gyms to go to one that is bright, well lit, spacious, and never overcrowded. i used to go to a cheaper one and i was pretty regular but i just haaaaated the place so much it was dank dark musty crusty ew ew ew.

having an idea of the workout you wanna do is also important once you get there so you can just go through your workout like a checklist and then head out after a good stretch! I'm getting back into the swing of things so I'm watching beginner videos from naomi kong on youtube, she really doesn't overdo it and outside of my own self-mandated light cardio warm-up (cycling) and finisher (inclined walk on the treadmill) it really didn't break a sweat.

so yeah to build the habit of just doing it, i am actually going everyday until i feel like i can trust myself with doing it every other day. mind you i don't do a "real" workout every day, i actually did a full body three days ago, just light cardio for 30 minutes yesterday to get my limbs moving and my blood pumping, and today was leg day. I'm gonna go tomorrow for a swim i think just to switch up the way i do my cardio and then on Monday it's gonna be upper body day and I'll probably follow another naomi kong beginner's guide to the gym.

so my tips for consistency and learning to like going to the gym:

go as many times as possible during the week just to make you used to going there

don't do big workouts!! your body doesn't need to go into failure every time. my legs used to shake like i was a newborn fawn bc i was following my friend's workout routine and it was not sustainable mentally for me lol. i just do my reps with lower weights than i used to just to get my body used to the movements and to make my mind disassociate "working out" with "sweating and suffering". it's like pavlov lol positive reinforcement is key

switch up your workouts so that it feels fresh! what i did today for leg day isn't what I'm gonna be doing for my next leg day for example bc i get bored easily

speaking of getting bored easily usually i either watch a bunch of youtube videos, listen to podcasts, read a book on my phone, or switch to an audiobook when my hands are busy because otherwise my mind wanders and i want to leave from being bored out of my mind. however today i did have a lot on my mind so i ended up listening to newjeans songs they have the perfect beat for working out

if your gym offers collective classes try one out! suffering together makes the pain easier to bear <3 that used to be what got me through english boxing classes years ago when i used to go... my objective is actually to go back to boxing classes (this time muay thai i think) by the end of the year and then the gym every other day or something for weight lifting, swimming, or a class of pilates or dance or smt that sounds fun

ok that was a really long answer lmao i'm also at the beginning of a journey that i hope will be consistent and sustainable!! i hope we can motivate each other out as northern country dwellers who have to contend with the wind the rain and the snow <3 also yaaaaay I'm so happy you watched demon slayer! and YES read the manga, the next arc is chill and cute but what follows... if you don't binge it all til the end i'd be surprised but also that'd mean you're much stronger than me which is a good thing if you can apply it to going to the gym as well akjfdklgj anyway good luck keep me updated babe insha'Allah we can do it!!

#was no one going to tell me i wrote read the anime instead of read the manga

[theoisgoneagain]

April 28th, 2023

6-hour study session

Studied for around 6 hours today.

I know it sounds long and I also did go to Uni for 4 hours, but it wasn't that bad honestly.

When I study, I don't just try to memorize, but also to understand. With computer science, this sometimes takes a while.

My primary way to understand things is to take notes during lectures and listen to the professor's words. Then I let it be for a day or two and return to write my notes down in my notebook (not the laptop, the paper one). But this time, I also read through the script/PowerPoint (if the professor gave us access to it). When I'm done with that an hour or two have already passed and I now have written down the content of that lecture at least twice.

A while (maybe hours, sometimes days) later, I create some anki cards, which leads to me reading through the topic again and filtering out the most important stuff. That I type it into Anki for review. With that, I went through it for the 3rd time.

So at that point I at least have memorized the most important parts, from this point on Anki makes sure that it will stay in my head.

But not just reviewing those topics takes time. Doing the tasks our professors gave us also takes 30mins to 2 hours.

That is why I'm today, aiming to study even longer.

But how do I manage to study for 6 hours?

First things first: I use flow. This program reminds you to take breaks every 25-40 Minutes. So yes I take breaks regularly.

Second: start with the stuff that takes the most concentration. Writing cards go last while doing tasks or reviewing the topic will be earlier.

Third: No Phone, I use Forest to block my phone for 2 hours, before I take a more extended break. This means I have no access during my 5-minute breaks.

fourth: Exercise, do stretches or push-ups during short breaks. Even walking around your room can help.

five: Open a window and drink water.

Six: If you get bored, change the topic. Study some other subject for a while.

#university student #student #student life #studystudystudy #study motivation #studyinspo #university #linksstudyblr #study tips

[hollow-azure]

“Till Death Do Us Part” → Y/N Version

Chapter 2: The Harome Clan

| Story Masterlist |

→ Pairing: Gojo Satoru x female reader → Rating: Teen+ → Genre: Romance, Slow burn → Trope: Arranged Marriage

Summary: In a world where Satoru Gojo is still the nonchalant, childish, and overbearingly unserious sorcerer he’s known to be, he decides to concede to his family one wish: To be betrothed to a person of their choosing. A simple agreement he thought. However, what happens when the person he is promised to happens to be a former upperclassman?

Notes: I'm back! I apologize so so much for taking so long to upload a new chapter. To make a very long story short, and to not bore y'all with details, I got very sick a few months ago and I've been dealing with some very debilitating health issues that have made it difficult to find the opportunity to write. I'm writing this story as I go so anything unexpected that comes up has the chance to side-track me a lot, unfortunately. I'm feeling a bit better now so hopefully I can be back to uploading more frequently. This isn't a story I want to give up on so even if it takes me a bit longer to finish I still will!

WC: 4.4K

The air was warm when Y/N stopped at the entrance of her village. A light breeze fluttered through, laden with the smell of sweet lotus in between. The clear blue sky above framed the large gate leading to her home ground, as bright and clear as she remembered it. She stopped to take in the scenery before walking any further. God, she had missed this.

After graduating Jujutsu High, a little over a decade ago, Y/N had been one of the few sorcerers to welcome the challenge of accepting missions stationed far from the Tokyo area, earning her the strangest of looks from her peers, but the biggest of praises from the higher ups. It wasn’t everyday they found a sorcerer so willing to take on such a grueling task, and best of all, she didn’t mind. In fact, she welcomed it. In her mind, Y/N had spent so much of her life couped up in the confines of her clan and village, training and perfecting her skills, that any chance to explore the outside world sounded like a good deal, even if it meant she’d be at risk every day.

It was this willingness and the combination of her skills as a Harome sorcerer that had Y/N away from the village most of the time. However, compared to her previous batches of missions, this had been her longest stretch so far. Despite all the excitement and adventure her travels gave her, she was more than glad to be home.

Y/N had not taken even two steps into the village when someone called out to her.

“Oi! Y/N !” A man’s voice yelled from a shop stationed near the entrance. The smell of freshly cooked noodles streamed out of it.

A large grin filled her face as she recognized her beloved village cook Kenzo. “Hey!” she turned to make her way towards him, her eyes widening halfway through. She had almost forgot.

Her hands flew back and fished inside her travel bag, pulling out a small spice bag and tossed it to him.

Kenzo caught the bag, his features growing in shock, “In this what I think it is?”

Y/N’s arms leaned on the counter as she smiled, “That’s the one you asked for, right?”

His mouth fell wide open as he scrambled to open the bag, the excitement in his hands making him miss the draw string a few times before opening it. He took a long whiff of the spice smell escaping the pouch and laughed. “You are a life saver Miss Harome.”

Y/N waved a hand at him, “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not!” he said as he crouched under the shop’s cupboards and retrieved a small ceramic vase. A hollow pop sounded as he pulled the lid off. “I used up the last bit of it two days ago. We stayed surviving on some old pouches that had a bit of the mixture left from last time, but I gotta say, we were really starting to stretch ourselves thin there,” he chuckled, “but lo’ and behold, my guardian angel arrived just in time.”

A quick blush creeped on her face as she tapped the counter and pushed herself off, “I guess life’s full of coincidences.”

Kenzo scoffed and spun on his heel, “Coincidences, coincidences, yeah, yeah,” he clicked his tongue as he grabbed a bowl, “Stop spouting nonsense Harome and sit down already and have some-” he turned to face the counter again, but Y/N was gone, already making her way back onto the main street.

“Hey!” he yelled as he leaned out of the shop, “where are you going? The Udon’s almost ready. There’s no way you’re not hungry after that long trek you did to get up here.”

Y/N turned around, her feet continuing to walk backwards, “I can’t! I’ll run late if I do.”

A sense of annoyance flashed through his face as he clamped his hands on his hips.

“I’ll come down later, I promise!” Y/N shot back as she clasped her hands together and sent him a pleading look.

Kenzo shook his head in disappointment, trying to keep on the act that he was still mad, but he couldn’t. His face quickly broke into a grin. “I’ll save you a bowl!” he yelled as he waved a hand behind his head and dismissed her.

Y/N bit back a smile as she did a few backwards skips before spinning around to continue making her way through the main street. That was interaction number one of many as she made her trek down the village.

It was a small village the one Y/N called home. Nestled high in the Tokyo hills, near two of the big sorcerer clans on one side, and Jujutsu High on the other, it was one of the first sights one would see on their way up the hills, making it one of the busier areas the three great Tokyo clans had. A combination of Harome sorcerers and non-Harome sorcerers made up the group of people living on the hill space, most of the non-sorcerers inhabiting the houses and shops lining the village, and the family born sorcerers settled in the clan compound at the end of the home ground.

The village was as lively and busy as it could be that day, as if everyone had gotten together and collectively agreed to stream out at the same time and torment her with the warmest of welcomes. She couldn’t manage to take a few steps forward without being stopped again and again, one person after the other. Anyone else would’ve found the whole ordeal to be too much. Maybe be annoyed by the constant barrage of people calling out to her, handing her something, throwing themselves onto her and everything in between. But through it all, despite the overwhelming welcome and all her current plans being sidetracked, Y/N didn’t mind one bit.

The street’s sudden liveliness grabbed the attention of a group of children perched on a line of house roofs. A ball bounced back and forth between the roofs and ground as they took turns tossing it at each other. One of the little girls in the group turned her gaze towards the commotion plaguing the street, ignoring the rubber ball that had bounced in her direction. The sound of her friends calling out to her faded in the background as she drew a sharp gasp.

“She’s here!” she yelled as she slid off the roof. “Y/N’s here!”

The group fell into the same state of shock as the girl and followed suit in rushing down the roof.

A fit of cheers and screams cut through the air as they bolted their way towards Y/N, catching her by surprise when she finished her last interaction. The ecstatic group crashed into her legs and surrounded her, the sudden force and desperate pulls on her limbs making her stumble back a few steps.

“Woah there!” she said as she regained her balance and took in the group of squealing children hugging her legs. “You guys got stronger while I was away.”

A fit of giggles filled the young group. Once the laughing died down, the group slowly detached from her and gave her some room to crouch before them.

“Senpai! Look,” one of the little boys yelled as he pointed to his face. A pair of black lightning bolt marks framed the corner of his eyes.

Y/N drew a large grin as she gasped. “Look at you! When did you get these?”

“He got them last week!” one of the kids spoke, “my brother got them too, but they don’t look as cool.”

Y/N chuckled as she was sure all the marks looked the same.

Through the group of children another girl moved forward. “And I got mine last month!”

Excitement washed over the kids as they pointed to her face for Y/N to see.

Y/N leaned closer towards the beaming girl and confirmed her elated statement. “I see, I see,” a warm smile grew on her lips, “those are looking sharp as ever,” she said as she pinched the little girl’s cheek, drawing a quick giggle from her. “Just like my little sorcerers.”

A sense of euphoria flew through the kids as they heard her words. The young group fell into a momentary bombardment of excited statements and questions before another boy interrupted.

“When are they going to look like yours senpai?” he asked as he pointed to the markings on her face.

Y/N froze.

The prime time for a potential sorcerer to start manifesting their cursed techniques laid between the ages of four and six, and it was during this time that Harome sorcerers also manifested their characteristic black colored face markings, the Diamond Bolt seal mark. Anyone in the clan who developed the markings during this time would eventually start exhibiting the clan’s inherited technique and be on their way to becoming a sorcerer.

The first markings to appear were the lightning bolts on the corners of their eyes. Next, a thin horizontal line would cross the bridge of their nose and expand to either side of their face. After that, another pair of lightning bolts would extend down the corners of the horizontal line, and that was it. The appearance of those final lightning bolts was usually where the Diamond Bolt seal mark would end for most Harome sorcerers, but that wasn’t the case for Y/N.

Unlike the rest of her clan, Y/N had one final element included in her markings. At the ends of each pair of lightning bolts on her face laid the small outline of sharp black hollow diamonds, explaining the meaning behind the official name of the seal. Anyone in the clan who developed the Diamond Bolt seal mark inherited the clan’s cursed technique and were more than capable of displaying all the powers and skills that came with it, all except one.

Every Harome sorcerer inherited Universal Energy, however, only a select few grew to the level of being capable of using the technique of Universal Lightning, and it was only those select few that developed the final stage of the Diamond Bolt seal mark. Y/N was the only one in her clan who currently had the complete mark, and the first one in decades to develop it.

She shook out of her momentary stunned state and turned to the sea of young expecting eyes gazing at her.

“Well, once you start training, if you work hard enough,” she threw a light poke at one of the kid’s bellies, earning a quick chuckle, “grow strong enough,” she said as she tickled another, “and study hard enough,” her stern eyes fell on the boy with the newly formed marks.

The young group laughed as he rolled his eyes.

The quick round of giggles died down and Y/N turned back to them. “Just then, maybe, you might develop them.”

A combination of enthusiastic and confused whispers slithered through the children as she got up from her crouched position.

“But hey, remember,” Y/N snapped her fingers, “You can grow up to be fine sorcerers yourselves. Just as capable and just as strong, even if you don’t develop the complete mark. Even the head of our clan doesn’t have it.”

One of the little girls snickered. “Yeah, but that’s your dad.”

“So?” Y/N shrugged, “that just proves my point.”

“Or proves that he’s the exception.”

The group yelled in agreement. Y/N tried her best to pull their attention back to her main point, but the children were too riled up to listen. All she could do was stand there and laugh.

Despite the children’s arguments and hesitations, it didn’t change the fact that indeed very powerful and capable Harome sorcerers had existed before and still did, even without the complete Diamond Bolt seal mark. Sure, it was true that those with the complete seal were, to a degree, leagues ahead of everyone else. But seal or no seal, powerful Harome sorcerers had existed for centuries on end, and it was their undying determination in the face of trying times that always determined their strength, and that wasn’t going to change any time soon.

On a normal day, in a normal stroll, the two hundred meters or so that stretched the village’s main street would usually take around two minutes to walk. By the time Y/N made it to walled fence of her clan’s compound, half an hour had passed.

Leaned against the gate’s entrance, with his arms crossed on his chest and an amused look on his face, her father Orokodai stood waiting for her.

“That’s a new record,” a smirk grew on his lips, “thirty minutes to walk that little stretch? You must be getting out of shape.”

Y/N let out a deep huff as she dropped the sea of food bags she was carrying to the ground. A couple more fell from her back as she relaxed her shoulders.

“Did everyone get the same memo or something that I was coming today? Because this is ridiculous,” she gestured to all the bags her neighbors had handed her on her way there.

Her father shrugged. “It’s a small village, word travels fast.”

“Yeah, especially when it’s your word,” she said as she side-eyed him.

Orokodai laughed as his daughter took a spot next to him and looked back to the busy village in the distance.

She broke the silence after a few moments. “It’s never like this.”

“It’s always like this.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Y/N could feel her father’s burning gaze on her as she tried to not break into a laugh and ruin her playful banter.

Orokodai tore his gaze away and joined her in looking back at the village. “It is. You’ve been gone for so long you probably don’t remember.”

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m sure she would remember,” the voice of her mother Ayako appeared behind them, “if she hadn’t left for six months.”

A low groan escaped Y/N’s lips as her parents gathered to keep poking fun at her. Their playful gazes flickered back and forth as she leaned against the compound gate in defeat.

“Are you gonna scold me for that too? Because you’d be the fiftieth person or so to do that today.”

Her parents shared knowing looks before turning to her.

“No,” Orokodai spoke, “not when our daughter comes back alive.”

A warm glimmer invaded Y/N’s eyes as her father snaked a hand behind her neck and pulled her and her mother into an embrace.

The smell of freshly brewed tea filled their house. Afternoon sun rays stretched around the mahogany floor holding the coffee table Y/N and Orokodai were seated at in silence. Only the sound of Ayako clinking cups in the kitchen and the chirping birds outside filled the space. It was a peaceful silence. Calm, serene, not laden with any extra worry that could be expected after a long day. At least that was the case for Y/N.

Orokodai sat across from her, nervously sipping at his tea while throwing subtle expecting looks towards Ayako on the other side of the room. Ayako moved back and forth between the counter, trying her best to keep her composure as she handled the tea tray and threw the same expecting look back to her husband. Orokodai’s eyes widened at her as he pointed with his head to their daughter drinking her tea in peace, oblivious to the staring contest her parents were currently engaged in. Ayako returned the widened gaze as she shrugged and grabbed the tea tray to walk out of the kitchen. Their eyes did one last silent battle before Ayako broke the silence.

“Y/N,” she said as she stood in the middle of the living room.

Their daughter turned towards them, her relaxed state an unnerving contrast to the tension her parents held.

“Yeah?” she asked as she took another sip from her cup.

Ayako turned towards Orokodai. She gave him one last look before setting the tray down and sitting next to him.

Orokodai took a deep breath before speaking. “Do you remember what we talked about before you left?”

Y/N’s attention was set on the spoon swirling the honey she had added to her tea. “The thing, we talked about…before…I left…” her words trailed off as she fought to catch on to what they were saying.

“About the clan unions.”

Y/N lit up as she remembered. “Ah that! Yes, I remember. What about it?” She finished swirling her tea and turned her gaze to the window on her side, unfazed by her father’s statement.

A tense silence burned in the room for a moment before Ayako spoke.

“Do you still feel the same way.”

“About what?”

“About what you said.”

The sound of Y/N’s spoon clattering down echoed through the room as her gaze flew to her parents. They finally had her full attention.

It was no secret the shift happening among the four great clans. The meetings, the truces, the letting ‘bygones be bygones’ being exchanged, and everything in between. It was something almost none of them had seen before. Something they hadn’t even thought to entertain in their lifetimes. For centuries most of them had kept to their own, the hunger for power and status driving their separate ambitions to take over one another, and their pride rendering them incapable of banding together to reach their mutual interests. But as the sorcerer world kept changing, and the power imbalance between curses and sorcerers kept rising, it was obvious they had reached a point where there was no other choice. Either come together and survive or let mutually assured annihilation cloud their egos and allow the cursed spirits to overtake whatever was left of the world in the end.

There were many ways in which the clans had begun to approach their plans of uniting the great families and building connections. Group pacts, business contracts, and everything else that granted even a smidge more of mutual assurance among the clans for the foreseeable future. Despite the sudden progressive nature flourishing among the clans and the higher ups, they still weren’t so far removed to not turn to one of the oldest of traditions to complement their growing unions.

Months ago, before she had left to go on her long stretch of missions, Y/N’s parents had approached her with a hypothetical proposition. The proposition of an arranged marriage with one of the other great clans, and how she was to be in the center of it.

Orokodai and Ayako had approached the situation with an air of caution, stressing multiple times the hypothetical nature of their sudden proposal, not wanting to place a sense of finality to something that not even the other clans had fully agreed on yet. They also didn’t want to pressure their daughter into agreeing to something as big and as invasive as an arranged union could be. They owed her that much.

Through it all, in the end, once they had finished explaining the hypothetical proposition to Y/N and everything that could hypothetically come with it, it wasn’t the fact that she had complied with the whole ordeal that surprised them, but more so how quickly she had agreed to it.

Both Orokodai and Ayako shared the same sense of shock when they had heard her answer, however they fought their best to not show it. With an eerie calmness still filling their daughter as she displayed her agreement, Y/N’s parents approached her with one last hypothetical question, the last one she would hear regarding the situation before she left for her mission.

“Why?”

And so, with a clear conscious filling her brain, and an air of confidence coursing her veins, Y/N began.

At twenty-nine years old, Y/N had done her fair share of dating, at least as much as her sorcerer career had allowed her to. Between dating sorcerers and non-sorcerers, the later proved to be the hardest. Although the easier of the two to find, the constant game of deflection and lying about her line of work always had her in a constant state of worry and stress, making it difficult to establish any real kind of connection with the people she saw. They were relationships built from the very start out of a lie, which didn’t fare well with even the most casual of relationships. The emotional toll of it all was difficult enough but funny enough, more difficult it was just having to explain her physical appearance to anyone she met.

The Diamond Bolt seal mark was a permanent fixture on her face, never fading or leaving her skin. Anyone on the outside world who asked about her markings always got either the excuse that it was a quirky makeup look she had done that day, or that they were face tattoos. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

The more she had to explain herself, whether it be her physical appearance or the mystery behind her real line of work, and the more tedious dealing with follow up questions got, the more Y/N pushed herself away from interacting with anyone outside the sorcerer world.

Dating actual sorcerers was miles easier, but it also came with its cons, the first one being time. You never had time. It came with the territory of being a sorcerer, they all knew it, and while most people were understanding and tried to make things work despite it, there were others who couldn’t, and Y/N couldn’t blame them. It was difficult building anything remotely meaningful when you barely saw someone, and it was ironically just as hard even if things were casual. It didn’t matter what angle they tried it. Things inevitably always fell through despite both party’s best intentions.

If that were the worst of her problems when it came to dating sorcerers, Y/N might’ve been able to live with it. But with their line of work being such a dangerous one, one specific experience with a partner a few years ago had been enough to drive her over the edge.

They had finished a particularly difficult mission, both sustaining a nasty wound that had left them on the brink of death. Tired, alone, stuck in the outskirts of Kyoto with no back up under a pouring night. Hours passed as they bled out, Y/N with a much deeper and gaping wound than her partner. It might have been the end of the line for both had help not arrived eventually.

Despite both surviving and everything turning out fine in the end, the damage had been done. The stress, the anxiety, the trauma of it all had been enough to create too large of a strain in their relationship. Y/N had tried her best to mend things, reassure her partner that experiences like those were bound to happen, they were jujutsu sorcerers after all. But he wasn’t having it. The horrible hours that had transpired that night had been too much for him to ever have to deal with seeing her in a state like that ever again. After that, Y/N barred herself from dating altogether, and when she realized how strangely happy she was because of it, there was no going back.

Taking all of that into account, at that point in her life, an arranged marriage didn’t seem so farfetched to Y/N. In her own exercise of mental gymnastics, it made things easier.

She wouldn’t have to waste time scouting through a sea of partners, go through all the trouble of getting to know them, spend time trying to convince them to stay. In her mind, it was the only way she saw herself finding anything resembling “love” at that point. If it turned out she didn’t, at the very least she had a platonic partner for life, granted she managed to not be paired with someone horrible. Through it all, it was a one and done business, and after being through so much, it was something she desperately needed.

For as much as her desire to put an end to her chaotic love life was reason enough to accept her clan’s proposal, Y/N wouldn’t willingly give herself up for such a frivolous reason.

It had of course been one hundred and fifty years since the clan massacre. She remembered as she looked out the window. The view of the bustling village and housed field framed the area, a stark difference from what it had once been.

After reciting the same set of reasons she had mentioned months ago, Y/N turned to her parents with the same sense of confidence she had displayed the last time they had discussed the matter and gave them her final answer.

Orokodai and Ayako shared one last knowing look before breathing out.

“Well, I guess it’s settled,” Orokodai said as he got up. “I’m going to let the rest of the heads know.”

The sound of clinking cups now invaded the room as Ayako began to clean up the area.

An air of confusion hovered over Y/N as she furrowed her eyes at her parents. “Wait, aren’t you forgetting something?”

They both stopped dead in their tracks as they turned to her.

“Aren’t you going to tell me who I’m betrothed to?”

A sheepish laugh escaped Orokodai as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, to be honest, we don’t know yet.”

A beat of silence followed before Y/N reacted. “Wait, you what?!”

Her parents laughed as they resumed their tasks, letting their bewildered daughter sit in a fit of shock.

“Like I said, this was something we were all still discussing.” Orokodai said as he backtracked into the room, “we were waiting for your final answer.”

Y/N crossed her arms and playfully pouted. “You’re marrying me off to some random person and you don’t even know who it is?”

Ayako plopped down next to her and wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. “Isn’t the point of an arranged marriage that it doesn’t matter who it ends up being?”

Y/N got ready to counter her mother’s point, but she froze. Her lips stuttered for a few more moments trying to come up with something, but she couldn’t. She rolled her eyes as she sighed in defeat. “It would still be nice to know.”

“You’ll know soon enough.” Her father said before he walked out.

One week later, Y/N got the answer to her question.

Notes: Thank you to anyone who has stuck around so far! Next chapter is a bit more dialogue based so it will be much easier to write and hopefully not take as long to upload as this one. We'll also finally see our favorite blindfolded idiot so I'm very excited to finally get to that.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo satoru jjk #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen anime

[artpigeons]

I'm trying to organise my gdocs, and I came across this thing from a while back. It's short but fun, just 600 words or so of my Lavellan absolutely thirsting after Dorian

Bringing Dorian along on this trip was a mistake. Why had Yeriel thought this was a good idea? He was a mage, surely they hadn’t needed another on the small expedition through the Dales and west towards Val Royeaux, even if they’d had to take a detour around Lake Celestine. Surely Cassandra and Sera would have been plenty of company. They’d stopped for the night at a small inn near Val Foret, empty except for the bored-looking owner, as it would be another full day’s riding before they’d reach the Orlesian capital, and after the past few days, all four of them were aching for a good night’s sleep.

Cassandra and Sera had gotten washed up by the well behind the building first and were now inside eating, waiting for Yeriel and Dorian to join them once they’d gotten clean and dry as well. They’d both been so relieved to stop for the day that it wasn’t until Dorian took his robe off that Yeriel realised that this was going to be… interesting.

Creators, it was challenging enough to be around him with his clothes on.

But no, there he was, stripping down to nothing but his breeches, as if Yeriel’s fingers and lips weren’t buzzing to explore the entirety of his ridiculously perfect body. His skin still looked soft even with the layer of travel-dirt and battle-debris, and Yeriel very quickly busied his hands undoing his braids before he could get too far in imagining what those toned muscles might feel like under his palms.

He’d had enough idle fantasies about Dorian’s arms and hands lately, he really hadn’t needed to know what the man’s back looked like when he stretched like that…

“You know,” said Dorian, somewhat pulling Yeriel back to reality a little, “as savage as this all is - and it is downright barbaric - I do rather prefer it to stream-water.” He stuck a hand into the bucket of water sitting at the edge of the well. “In no small part because I can do this,” he finished, the water starting to steam a little from the heat of the spell he was casting.

“Brilliant,” said Yeriel with a small grin, though he was mostly just relieved to have said something other than I want to lick every inch of you, and finally managed to rid himself of the outer layers of his own clothes.

Cleaning his hair with the small, rough piece of soap they’d brought along was something of a task, and quickly took his mind off all the interesting ways he could imagine pressing their bodies against each other. Washing bits of templar out of his hair took up too much focus for that, at least until he reached out to hand the soap to Dorian and glanced up from where he was bent over the bucket to find that Dorian was looking at him with some interest.

“I didn’t realise you had them all over,” said Dorian softly, taking the soap, and it took Yeriel a small moment to realise he meant the tattoos - of course, that’s what he’d been looking at. So much for those few seconds of elated excitement.

“Oh, well,” he said, straightening up, “the, uh- when we were younger, my friends and I would practice on each other. You have to sit still for this one,” he pointed to his face, “and not make any noise at all. We wanted to prove how tough and grown-up we were.” He stretched out his arm to show off a particularly wonky design. “They’re not very good, but we were all doing it.”

#dragon age #pavellan fic #i guess? #my writing #yeriel lavellan

[dododan]

Forgotten Perseverance - Chapter 3

Masterpost

Prologue Previous Next

Katharina has always kept a diary. It allowed her to collect her thoughts. She didn't stop it when she got to the Underground. Here is one of its pages, revealing a little about Katharina's life before the Fall.

16 August 1994 

Boredom is hardly a good counsellor for me and my friends in particular. Our town was always boring in the holidays when almost half of my friends were away. There were no attractions here either, just the mountains we had known since childhood.   

 Every day of the holidays was just as boring, blending into one. This day was like that too.    

 As usual, I was brutally woken up by my dog. I was sweetly asleep and this monster jumped on me and perched on top of me and gave me a wet kiss. A violent wake-up call, but you couldn't stay angry with her for long. The sweet old husky stared at me with tongue extended, ready for another attack of love. Luna. My darling little monster. I miss her very much. I miss the tapping of her claws against the panels and the morning walks. Usually Luna would wake me or my sister up around 5am and beg to go out. I miss my sister too.  

 She managed to get out of town for a whole holiday. She spent it at a music camp, or at least she had. After my disappearance she rather came home early.   

 I rolled out of bed, stretching. Karate training was making itself known. My muscles were sore, but it was no great obstacle, because these activities gave me satisfaction.   

 Here, I don't have much to train with. I also missed regional competitions, and I had been preparing for them for so long with Peter - my sparring partner. We were usually cheered on by Jeny - our childhood friend.  

 We were supposed to meet at her house - her parents were away on a business trip, so we had the house to ourselves. The only downside was that we had to look after Bella - Jennifer's little sister - on occasion. The little one was sweet, she turned four this year, but she stuck to us all the time. She liked to hold hands or cuddle. She just lunged at people, but sometimes she would say strange things, like she could read someone's emotions. Which freaked me out a bit.   

 But I'm too far removed from my day.   

 I quickly got ready to leave. I didn't want to waste my day alone, it's better to waste it with friends. I put on my new glasses with purple frames. I had finally managed to convince my parents to get them than the plain black boring frames I had been wearing for years. All I had to do was suck up to my parents and do a bit of work around the house - tidy up the attic or garage.   

 It cost me two weeks of tyranny, but it was worth it. The frames looked brilliant.   

 I wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible before my mum caught me. She always had a task for us - me and my sister. She worked all the time herself - even when she was at home. Bookkeeping was something she dedicated her life to.   

 Unfortunately, I came across her as she was making coffee in the kitchen. 

 "Are you leaving already?" She asked, without even giving me a chance to answer. "Take Luna with you she could use a walk", she added taking a mug of fresh coffee into her office.  

I preferred to keep quiet about it rather than risk her wrath. I picked up her leash and took her with me. Jeny thankfully didn't mind the extra guest. The whole time Luna was wagging her tail happily as I clipped her leash. Not that Luna ran off somewhere, but the neighbours were concerned if she would attack some passer-by. This big darling Luna would only do to a stranger if she was licked to death. I can already see the headlines in the newspapers "Man licked to death by big drooling ball - Luna!"  I laughed In the spirit, closing the door behind me.    

"And I already thought you'd gone astray," Peter said with a smile, leaning against the wooden fence.   

As soon as Luna saw him she started to pull away. She liked him a lot, but she was not allowed to jump on people. It was just that it was usually funny. The only thing I could think of was a squeeze from Peter in training. The big dog immediately ran up to the boy, knocking him to the ground. Peter wasn't expecting this at all. As they both lay on the ground, he wanted to say something to me, but it was a bad idea. Luna took the opportunity to give him a dozen mega kisses.  I laughed like a man possessed, bending in half. It was so funny how they were rolling around on the ground and Peter was trying to free himself from Luna.    

"Stop it, it's not funny at all!" said Peter, before the husky licked his tonsils again.   

 I struggled to hold back my laughter, taking pity on the boy. I walked over to them. I took the lead, pulling the biscuits out of my trouser pocket.    

"Luna! Sit!" the big dog immediately stepped off the boy and obeyed the commands. She got a dog biscuit as a reward. I stroked her head. "My little sweetheart"   

" This one such a sweetheart!" Peter said, wiping his face with his hand. I smiled at Peter deviously. The boy looked at me puzzled. "You did that on purpose!"    

"No, what are you thinking!" I said sarcastically, shaking hands with him. "I would have purposely put Luna on you." 

Peter accepted my help, but pretended to be offended for this little 'attack'. All the way to Jennifer's house , he kept telling me how mean I was by putting Luna on him. I took it with a pinch of salt. He's always been like that. I didn't feel the least bit guilty. I soiled his white trousers, that's why he was so whiny to me. Peter was quite a cleaner for a boy. A perfectly coiffed shirt.  Short-cut chestnut hair, combed to the side. As strange as it may have seemed, this hairstyle suited him.   

 Jennifer lived close to the woods at the other end of the town, situated at the foot of Ebott Mountain. A large... No, a huge house with a ground floor, attic and garage in chocolate yellow tiles. Plus a sizeable garden surrounded by a walled garden. This was the house, or rather, as the locals called it, the "little palace" that belonged to Jennifer's family. They built it four years ago and have lived here for three and a half years.    

It is fair to say that Jennifer's family was one of the wealthiest people living here. She had the latest technological innovations in the house.  Jennifer was one of the few people who owned her own computer! And she let us use it, although I had considerable problems with it. There were a few times when I accidentally turned it off, so Jeny felt that when I was using the computer I should have supervision. She also had an mp3 and DVD player, a digital camera and a mobile phone from which she could send messages, or text messages.    

Not that we were friends with Jeny because of her wealth! What's not! Because of her parents' wealth, she wasn't very popular at school. But Peter and I saw a kindred spirit in her. We became friends straight away.    

When we were just outside the door to her house, it suddenly opened. In the threshold stood little Bella. She was dressed in a red floral dress. She was smiling at us, grinning her white baby teeth.   

"Sis is waiting for you in the garden!" she said, taking us by the hands. The youngster dragged us through the house towards the terrace.    

"Bella! We can go ourselves!" I said to the child.   

 She stopped immediately and let us go, turning around.  Her face was grim. But like little children. Nobody knows how to take their tantrums seriously.     

 "I'm Ann or Annabell!" she stomped her foot angrily. Little Bella didn't like, indeed hated, being called that. And I liked to tease her a bit, so.... I called her Bella. It was also a reliable way to get rid of her when we didn't want her following us around.   

 "Kath, don't tease my sister," Jeny said to me, standing in the doorway.   

 She wasn't angry. She often called Annabell that herself. The youngster really was cute how she pretended to be offended. The teenager looked at us smiling. She looked at Ann some more and invited us with a hand gesture to the terrace. A huge garden surrounded by a red wall. Tall lime trees and birch trees grew in it. Several rose bushes were also in bloom - white, red and yellow. In the middle of the garden stood a wooden swing. Meanwhile, on the terrace there was a wooden sofa with cushions and a small table.   

We entered the terrace and I unhooked Luna. The dog immediately started playing with Bella. The husky chased her all over the garden and the girl ran away from him laughing happily. A sight extremely pleasing to the eye. All three of us sat down on the veranda. Peter and Jeny were talking about something; I didn't listen to them much. I preferred the playing Bella and Luna. 

Little Annabell was an enigma to me. A seemingly ordinary child, yet she could feel other people's emotions, or rather read them. She had already shown me her "skills" many times. Then it was the same. Suddenly, she interrupted her game by coming up to me. Her sharp eyes, stared at me. And I did not remain indebted to her. She approached me, gently touching my cheek.     

"You are calm and curious" Ann stated. She tilted her head. "Why?"   

I laughed nervously. She had done it again. She always made me uncomfortable with it. Jenny told me to just ignore it.   

"Because you're curious," I replied. The girl smiled and went back to playing with Luna.    

"You guys are always putting on some kind of paranormal show." commented Peter, peeling his feet up on the table.   

 I looked at him. Unfortunately, he was right. Bella stuck to me the most and was always saying weird things to me.     

"Speaking of paranormal things" began Jeny. I straightened up. My friend's eyes shone. She was excited. - "I recently heard a legend about Ebott Mountain."   

" Ah. I remember, an old tale of people and monsters" Peter waved his hand. "Everyone here knows it. The adults made it up a long time ago so that the kids wouldn't climb the mountain. " 

"I didn't know it," said Jennifer indignantly. "And I would like to know more about it. " 

We were forced by the girl to tell this legend. About the fact that a long, long time ago there was a war between monsters and humans. The humans feared the power of the beasts, so they decided to get rid of them. Out of fear, they started a war that ended in victory for the humans. The monsters were driven to the underworld and imprisoned by the magic of seven wizards and witches. It is said that the creatures created from magic swore to get to the surface and take revenge on the humans. Some people believed this and that magic still lurked in humans, but we had all but forgotten about it.    

 Jennifer was immediately captivated by the story, but had not yet heard the rest of it. Anyone who climbs Ebott Mountain never comes back. More than ten years ago, a young girl climbed the mountain. Her name was Chara. According to some, the teenager died on the mountain, but a few said they saw her body carried by a humanoid goat. It had similarly killed the girl, so people tried to murder him. But, according to witnesses, he returned to the mountain and hearing of him disappeared. When the townspeople heard about it, they did not believe it. It was believed that Chara ran away from home because of her drunkard father, who used to beat her. But the story does not end there. A few years after Chara's disappearance, another girl went missing, and another three years later, and less than five years ago a man went missing. Each of them went to Ebott Mountain for a different reason, but none of them returned. Most thought some had moved away or run away. But only a few thought they had been killed by monsters intent on destroying the barrier. 

"That's terrible," Jeny commented.    

"Maybe we should change the subject" I replied. For a moment I thought the atmosphere was getting overwhelming, but that was just my feeling.    

"Why?" asked Peter, smiling deviously. "Are you afraid?"    

"What do you expect me to be afraid of?" I replied. My pride was offended.  He did it on purpose. He's up to something. Jeny stood up, heading towards the house. Peter and I looked at her surprised. "Where are you going? "  

"To get something to loosen up," she replied. A few minutes later she returned with a bottle of wine and three glasses. She placed them in front of us. She started to open them.    

"Won't your parents be angry that you are drinking?" I asked.    

"They think it's better that I drink their alcohol at home than from strangers," Jennifer replied as she poured us some wine. Peter immediately took a drink, followed by Jeny.    

"I'd rather thank you," I said, pushing the glass of red liquid away.   

"What's suddenly become of you as a virtue?" said Peter, sipping his wine. It was the second time that day that he had offended my pride. "Why don't you put on the habit and join a monastery straight away. " 

"Don't push it," I said, taking the glass in my hand.   

 I took a big gulp of wine. I felt the alcohol warm my throat. A pleasant momentary warmth spread through my body. As for the taste, it was a little bitter, but also sweet. Overall good.   

Peter looked at me surprised. Impressed, he straightened up. Jeny, on the other hand, only laughed.    

"I wouldn't expect that from you," said Peter briefly, probably still not believing what I had done.   

 I smiled. It was the first time I had drunk alcohol and I must admit that the wine was good. We had a nice chat and around midday we had a lunch of pork chops and potatoes. Towards evening it started to get chilly, so we moved into the living room. We continued to talk about all sorts of topics, and the wine was running low. But we didn't drink much. Only half a bottle for three people, and it still wasn't full when we started. Overall, the evening could have ended here and we could have gone home, but it didn't. Somehow we got back on the subject of magic and Mount Ebott.    

"Are you guys really not curious about what really happened to these people?" I asked. "Maybe there really are monsters living under that mountain!"    

"That's impossible!" replied Peter. "If they existed, people would have discovered it long ago. "  

"Maybe they really are there. You know, the world is big and we still haven't learned all its secrets," I said.    

"Why don't you bet?" added the boy after a while, sipping his wine.    

I was well and truly sick of it. Maybe it was the alcohol or my offended pride. I don't know what got into me then. I still don't know why I said that.    

"Agreed! Tomorrow we're going to Ebott Mountain!" I replied, squeezing Peter's hand.  

 Jennifer knew she wouldn't be able to convince us, so she didn't even try. We sealed the bet with a handshake. That's how our evening ended.  But it wasn't the bet that was the strangest. Just before leaving, I was accosted by a sleepy Bella.    

"Are monsters scary?" She asked me while rubbing her eyes with her little hand.    

I crouched down to peer at her. We must have given her quite a scare with these stories. It was no wonder she was scared now.    

"'You have nothing to be afraid of, Ann" I said, rubbing her head. "There is another legend. It says that the souls of monsters are white because they are filled with mercy" Bella looked at me. Her eyes shone. "It means that they won't do harm to anyone who doesn't deserve it. " 

Little Annabell smiled.   

"If they exist, will you help them come to the surface?" asked the girl. "They must feel bad for sitting there for no reason. " 

I laughed. Bella was adorable at the moment. But what was I supposed to say to the child?   

"If they're alive up there I'll help them get out because no one deserves not to know the charms of the night sky, star" I replied, stroking her cheek.    

The trip to the mountain was just fun for us. We just wanted to   

I still can't believe we're going up Ebott Mountain tomorrow and that I promised such an impossible thing to a child. But I have to remain persistent, I finally took on this challenge and I can't give up. 

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