#that concept has been in my brain forever I needed to get it out

[orangekittyenergy]

On Tails and Horns

NSFW Rolan Fic

Tags: NSFW, 18+ only, tail touching, horn stroking, dry humping, first kiss, touch starved Rolan, she/her Female Tav, mostly sexy flirting but with smut at the end, basically all angst and anticipation really, I guess subRolan

Words: 6000 (once again this got completely out of hand)

Summary: Tav finally goes to visit Rolan in his new tower after a hard couple weeks of cleanup. Rolan is so delighted to see her and pent up with frustration and feelings that the lightest of touches is enough to make him lose all sense of himself.

Read below or direct on AO3

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Tav and Rolan sat in his sitting room for tea, perched together, far closer than Rolan had intended, on the plush couch. The velvet couch was one of the many opulent vestiges from the previous owner. Books and scrolls aside, it certainly didn’t hurt to now occupy a fully furnished tower. The large vaulted windows were flung open wide, letting in a soft breeze and low hum from the movements of the city far below.

Rolan had been delighted when she came to visit. Tav had been so busy with helping the issues in the damaged city he hadn’t been quite sure when he would see her again. But he couldn’t deny the way his heart sang when she strolled through the doors over an hour ago, hoping to catch up with him now that she had a moment to breathe. Him, of all people.

But now here they sat; having discussed the details of both of their new lives, how life in the tower and store were going, the efforts to clean up the city, and the question of what lay next seemed to hover in the air.

Tav set her cup down on the side table and gave him a soft look.

“Thank you for taking time for me. I know you’ve been busy. But I really needed this.” She said and shot him what looked like an almost shy smile. Rolan blinked hard at her, surprised at her words as much as the look on her face.

“Thank...hah! I should be thanking you. Consistently and forever.” He set his own empty cup down as well. “I would have nothing were it not for you.”

“Oh, don’t pretend to be modest. You know you were amazing in the courtyard at that battle; I don’t know if we could’ve made it through without your help.” Tav reminded him.

Rolan cocked his head, looking away a moment in thought.

“Yes, I suppose I was rather amazing. I guess Cal and Lia helped some but my spells really sealed the fate of those wretched mind-flayers.” He mused with a slight smile. Tav always knew how to stroke his ego.

“But...really...thank you, Rolan. I’ve been meaning to visit sooner. I’m still staying at the Elfsong. Maybe we can do this again? Maybe dinner perhaps?” She said, almost casually. Just tossing asking him to dinner out there as if it was nothing. 

His breath caught in his throat. Dinner. His mind rang with the word as it seeped into every corner of his brain; trying to wrap his head around what that could possibly mean. Was she asking him out? That couldn’t be so. It was casual. Two friends catching up. But still, his mind immediately pictured the scene; dinner and wine at the Elfsong. He’d love to see her in something more dressy. No, that was ridiculous. She must have dozens of suitors.

"Ahem...dinner, yes. That... would be a fine idea..” He spoke haltingly, trying to fill the silence with words, any words, while he was still trying to work through the idea in his head, a thousand different scenarios crashing together at once.

As he struggled with this concept; it seemed the deepest part of his desires to be close to her, to get to know her in possibly more than a friendly setting, that he has previously pushed away, had bubbled up again and his body decided to act for him.

Tav felt a movement on her leg and shivered.

She looked down to see Rolan’s tail curled gently but insistently around her leg just above her knee, the tip trailing down to rest on her calf. He followed her gaze and his eyes widened with shock at the impudence and betrayal of his own tail. Before he could utter out the immediate string of curses and apologies that flew into his head, in that split second of fear that gripped him, Tav moved quicker and he froze.

She raised her hand from her thigh and gently placed it on the exposed section of tail atop her leg. All thoughts fled from Rolan’s head as a hiss and a full body shudder rolled through him at her whisper light touch.

The shiver extended all the way through his tail and Tav immediately raised her hand off it as if she had been shocked, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I should've asked first-"

She started as he spoke at the same time.

"I am very sorry about that damn tail, I -" he paused, her words finally reaching his muddled brain. "Ask?" The word almost caught in his throat as he choked it out, incredulous. He caught her eyes flutter down to the offending tail, still around her leg, then back up to his meet his eyes with a blush. A blush? What did she have to blush about? It was his tail that got him into this predicament.

"Yes, sorry. I'm so sorry Rolan, I've heard tails can be sensitive...I should've asked first...it was just...it was right there." She gave a nervous chuckle and glanced away.

Wonderful, now I've done and mucked everything up, Rolan thought. The mere mention of dinner from her lips had left him already in shambles, unable to even control his own cursed tail. He frowned and cleared his throat, trying to still the building throbbing in his chest and regain his usual demeanor.

"No. I mean, yes, you should have." He said brusquely at first. Her eyes flickered away again and he quickly added. "They...uh...can be sensitive in some areas, yes." He swallowed thickly suddenly quite unsure of what to say. Tav met his eyes for a brief moment then looked back down. Rolan followed her gaze, already knowing full well what he would find and saw his damned tail, somehow wrapped, so it seemed, even tighter around her leg. He cleared his throat again but made no attempt to move it despite his nerves screaming at him.

"So, can I?" Tav spoke, pulling his attention back to her face. It was tilted down but her eyes peered up at him in what seemed to be a deliberately maddening pose.

"Can you....?" He hesitated, he was sure she couldn't be asking what he thought she was asking.

"Can I touch your tail?" She finished boldly. Rolan eyed her a moment, and swallowed thickly, his brain swirling with a million thoughts and his hands starting to tremble. He crossed his arms and tried to seem nonchalant about the entire situation and realized he was failing miserably.

"Sure. Yes. You may." He uttered, hoping his voice didn't waver.

Tav reached back out, hand tentative but confident and placed her palm again on the flesh of his tail where it rested on her leg.

The sensation was like a blaze of fire through his already burning hot veins. He bit down on his tongue, hard, to avoid another offending shiver and felt his eyelids flutter, betrayal of his own self control.

Thankfully, Tav’s eyes remained fixed on his tail, not noticing the immediate and dramatic way it affected him. Or, he realized, she might be tactful enough to be avoiding his face. Her touch became more firm as she well and truly let the full weight of her hand fall on it.

A sharp hiss of air escaped his clenched teeth as her hand moved slightly and her eyes finally returned to his.

"Is this okay?" She asked. Her voice was hushed, almost...he struggled to place her tone...reverent?

"Yes, yes it's fine." He breathed out, forcing himself to let the tension in his jaw relax. She began to ease her hand up slightly, tracing the bumps and ridges with her fingertips, digits gently paving the path for her palm to follow.

Rolan felt himself flush and wondered if Tav could tell the difference between his usual ruddy hue and the deeper scarlet of his blushes.

"Does it feel....good?"

His eyes had purposefully wandered but now snapped back to hers and narrowed slightly. Her expression was unreadable and even as her haunting words echoed in his ears he, again, couldn't sense the meaning behind her tone. Did she want it to feel good? Or was it pure curiosity that caused her to ask such a charged question?

And what’s more; how should he answer?

"It...does. The tail...my tail...seems to get more sensitive the higher up it goes." He tried to answer factually, logically even. It was true after all, but as quickly as the words left his mouth he realized the possible connotation of them. An invitation even. The corners of Tav’s lips flickered with a smile and her brow raised almost imperceptibly.

"Hmmm." Was the only response she gave. But her hand continued it's ascending exploration of his tail. It was now beyond the section just on her leg and was continuing on to where it dipped down a touch by his own legs.

Leaning forward slightly to extend her reach, she continued her careful mapping of the ridges, which were getting more and more pronounced as his tail progressed. She touched him as if she wished to memorize every single bump and pore; with a tenderness he couldn’t recall ever feeling before. The feeling was indescribable, but undeniably sensual. 

Rolan felt another shudder roll through him and couldn't contain this one. He felt it vibrate through his whole body all the way through and to the very tip of his tail and it gave a little flicker of movement against her calf. He couldn't tell if he was thankful or not that this one, as it trembled it's way down through his tail, didn't scare her hand away.

He stared at her hard, suddenly frustrated at her tender movements. Did she know how good it felt? Was she teasing him on purpose? To what bloody end? It was one thing to be touched so tenderly after so long, it was quite another to have his once detested bumps and ridges being the subject of such adoration. It was altogether brutal to have it be by someone that he wasn't even sure had further intentions with him. Other than being some...strange creature to fascinate over.

He squeezed his eyes shut. No matter how good it felt, how long he had wanted this, how soft her touch was, he had to stop this.

"I think-" he popped open his eyes intending on telling her to cease her activity but found that she had shifted while he battled internally and was now right beside him, her hips almost brushing against his own, her eyes firmly locked on his, watching his reactions carefully.

He wasn't just a subject of curiosity for her. He didn't know what she thought or what the intent was, but the burning in her eyes told him that it was far more than pure detached curiosity. He swallowed away his angry words, the frustration leaving him immediately, burned away by the heat of her gaze.

Her arm was now stretched out as far as it could go, ending just where his tail dipped down beside his thigh, before it would continue back up in a curve to reach the base. Incidentally, she had reached the point right where it started to become truly sensitive. It would've been positively indecent to let her continue.

His heart drummed hard in his chest, so loud he was certain she could hear it. He should end this, for decency’s sake alone. But couldn’t bring himself to conjure the words. A larger part of him was also so very desperate for her to continue; to see how far her boldness would take her. Take them. The two battling halves of his mind fought internally against each other. His mind fractured behind too many carefully crafted layers of strict composure.

He didn't have to struggle long. With a scoot of her hips again, her thighs well and truly pressed against his now, her arm bent at the elbow, giving her room to continue should she wish.

Rolan sucked in a sharp hiss of air at this development and stared at her carefully. Her eyes never left his. Her hand still firmly in place. The very air between them felt electric as if there was some magic from an unspoken spell being cast.

"Can I keep going?" She asked with a breath. His chest ached and again it took him a moment to register something. His need and eagerness for her touch along with his conflicting thoughts at the budding situation had made his senses dull. But as her words rang in his ears he heard something unmistakable. A nervous waver. In her voice. The slightest quiver. Of excitement or nerves; it could be either but he would take it. She was usually so, confident. Commanding even. To hear even a hint of a nerve in her voice at this situation stirred his insides and dispelled his doubts.

"Yes." He answered simply before he could stop himself with too much thinking. His chest hitched as her arm extended, stroking up his tail further, still using careful attention to the now more prominent peaks of cartilage. His jaw fell open slightly. The sensation of her hand almost too much to bear as another large shudder, stemming from her hand this time and rolling up his spine all the way to his scalp took him over.

She leaned forward further, her chest now dangerously close to touching his own. As her fingertips edged ever closer to the base of his tail he felt an unmistakable groan escape his lips. Her hand froze and he clamped his mouth shut with a snap both in the same moment.

His eyes darted away from hers, embarrassment welling up inside of him.

After an aching pause, his eyes still diverted, he felt Tav remove her hand and lean back away slightly. If the touch of her skin had lit a pleasant warm fire until under his skin, the sudden absence of it was a sharp painful sting of ice. Leaving him with a longing for contact that felt worse than if she hadn't touched him at all.

He finally pulled himself back to face her and was surprised to see her looking rather abashed. Her hands were sat back firmly on her thighs, gripping the fabric, a slight blush on her face, but... he could swear…was there a hint of a smile on her pink lips? Her confounding beautiful lips. 

Rolan opened his mouth to speak but once again words failed him. What could he say that wouldn't sound needy and desperate? How could he begin to ask her to continue to touch him without begging?

"Your tail felt very nice. Very soft. Sorry if I...went too far." Tav once again came to his rescue. This time rescuing him from the aching void of silence between them. Rolan blinked hard at her words. No one ever in the history of his knowledge had call his or anyone else’s tail nice or soft. As he absorbed her judgement of his tail, he realized she was staring at him expectantly.

"No, it was fine. It felt... good." A sudden surge of his own boldness possessed him, born of the sheer desire at having her hands on him again. To feel her touch him; somewhere. Anywhere. He started speaking before he knew what he was saying. "The...horns, if you were curious about them as well, also have a certain level of sensitivity... Not necessarily at the tips, but the base..." He couldn't even believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Desire had driven him absolutely mad.

Before he could begin to second guess himself he saw that the spark that flared up in her eyes was immediate. Her hint of a smile grew into a full fledged one.

Tav leaned forward slightly again and her eyes darted up to his horns.

"May I?" She asked, raising her hands up from her thighs until they hovered just over his own. He gave a gentle nod, not trusting his own voice at the prospect of being touched again.

Without hesitation now her hands raised to each place her fingertips at the point of each horn. Rolan dipped his head forward slightly to give her better access, practically bowing towards her. His own reverence at her caring touches.

She placed her fingers gently on the tips of his horns, again tracing across the thicker bumps and ridges, feeling her way around every groove as she explored. After just a moment there, she gently slid further down from the tips, lower and lower until they were thick enough to wrap a hand around. As she did so Rolan sucked a sharp gasp of air in through taut lips. Not so much at the sensation; it was altogether different than the soft flesh of his tail, but at her willingness to touch him again.

The feeling of hands on his horns was more akin to someone brushing his hair, not that he would know what that felt like; but it was more about the way it trickled down to his actual flesh that gave him shivers. But the feeling of her so close to him again, her desire to touch him again, her tender soft hands on the harshest parts of him; that was what truly drove his senses wild and made his insides coil with hunger. The feeling of her hands gently caressing his horns sent shooting sparks of sweet sensation across his scalp and he found himself clamping his mouth shut hard again to avoid making another wanton noise.

Heeding his words she seemed to move quicker down than with his tail, but as she reached the midpoint of his horns she slowed, her grip growing more delicate and exploratory again. As her hands slid across the grooves with care the sensation, the pulsing in his skin, grew stronger and stronger until his breath hitched and his breathing grew heavy once more. He stared down at her lap, trying in vain not to look directly at her chest.

His own hands, which had been absurdly useless thus far, clutched hard against the fabric of his robe at his thighs, as another shiver rolled down his spine. He felt it flow all the way down through his tail again. His eyes shot down at it. His tail. His damned tail that started this whole thing, still carefully curled around her leg, seemed to tighten involuntarily at the shudder. He wasn’t sure if he should be blessing or cursing that it seemed to have a mind of its own; operating purely on base instinct betraying his deepest thoughts and desires.

Her hands finally reached the base of his horns and tenderly traced the bumps from where they erupted from his skin, bringing forth another unintended deep groan of pleasure from the depths of his chest. At the noise his eyes darted back up to meet hers and he found her watching him intently, her lips parted slightly.

Thankfully, her hands didn't stray, undisturbed by his obvious, even lewd enjoyment of this. They stayed; soft, tender, and so caring on his flushed burning skin.

As her hands seemed to finish their careful explorations of the flesh at the base of his horns, he still had almost half-expected her to pull away. The game complete. The research done. A dark thought rolled through him before he could stop it that this was just a bit of fun for her. Teasing him like this.

But her hands lingered. He once again found her eyes, meeting them with a deep gaze as she slid her hands down, away from his horns until she was gently cupping his cheeks. Sparks shot through his entire body and his chest heaved, almost painfully so. The moment lingered, his fear and doubt still too deeply etched into his own skin in invisible scars to make a move first. A few weeks of comfort and a few moments of tender touching couldn’t erase a lifetime of hardships and disappointments.

Thankfully, Tav, was still the more bold of the two of them. Her eyes darted obviously down to his slightly parted lips then back up to meet his as she licked her lips.

“Rolan?” She breathed out softly.

He couldn’t trust that his voice wouldn’t shake. Couldn’t trust that any possible utterance of words would snap this beautiful fantasy in two and she would dissolve. Couldn’t trust that any noise he made would break whatever spell she was under and cause her to lean away. But she lingered, unwilling to move without word from him. He swallowed thickly again and replied.

“Yes?” He finally managed to eke out with a small gasp.

“Can I kiss you?”

All of the air seemed to leave the room. She spoke so freely. So honestly. A slight hush in her words but only the tiniest hint of a quiver in her voice.

It contrasted so starkly with the tremble that coursed through his body. Of course he wanted her to kiss him. What kind of a question was that? He wanted it more than he needed to breathe. But somehow, the words out there, the possibility at hand, filled him with a deeper fear than he knew existed. A fear that threatened to overtake even his desire for her. A lingering voice that scolded him; ‘you will never quite be good enough.’

She licked her lips again and Rolan finally found the courage to quell the voice once and for all. She gave him courage. She always had. She had been there for him when no one else was; not even himself. It had always been within him, the confidence, the desires; but she had been patient enough to slowly ease it out.

“Yes, please…” He croaked out.

She leaned forward, hands still on his cheeks and placed a tender lingering kiss on his lips. The sensation of her caressing his tail was nothing compared to this. To the soft, slightly moist feeling of her warm lips pressed against his.

It sent another surge of confidence and unleashed passion coursing through his body. He could already feel his tail tightening around her leg again. His hands, trembling with anticipation and desire before, useless on his lap, now reached forward, reaching for her, eager to pull her close.

The kiss deepened, spurred on by his reaction; Tav opened her mouth, welcoming him in and leaned in further. His hands found her waist, gripping it tight as her own tongue replied to his, dancing carefully over and around his pointed teeth.

Rolan couldn’t help but groan slightly as his body lit up with sparks, every sensation he had ever felt, good or bad, seemed to pale in comparison to this divine moment. Her mouth hot against his, their breath mingling. He found his stomach was flipping over, and there was a deep aching stir in the very core of his body. Tav leaned even closer, practically in his lap now even though her hips still firmly sat on the couch beneath them.

He struggled to keep up with her tongue at first. Hers was so careful and precise and he felt sloppy and careless, sweeping along her lips and occasionally fumbling out of them as he struggled to keep up and simultaneously rushed to catch up; kissing her like it was his first and last kiss. All messy and nervous and wet and eager.

Patient as ever, Tav slowed, giving them both a moment to find the right flow, adjusting her head to tip it to the side so they could lock lips fully. He breathed out a pleased sigh into her mouth as they found a pleasant connection, leaving their awkward tongues behind.

Confidence again surging, he tugged at her hips with a new found greedy need. Greedy. He once teased her with that very word, but now very much felt the acute actuality of the word itself. He was greedy for her. He needed more of her. Now that he had been given a taste, he felt practically insatiable.

Catching note of his eager tugs, without question or request now, Tav lifted up her legs and straddled his lap, letting his body adjust to sit back against the couch. The new position allowed a new level of closeness. Her body pressed fully against his now, his pulse pounding hard between them.

Rolan felt positively dizzy. Giddy even; and that was not a word he felt he had ever used or thought of using before. He wrapped his arms fully around her back now, taking advantage of the closeness to run his hands up and down her clothed spine. His tail had released her leg at her movement and now joined his hands at her waist, resting almost scandalously against the swell of her ass. Her own hands drifted down from his face, resting on his shoulders and gently playing with the edges of his hair that rested there.

He released another shuddering moan into the kiss, feeling her body sink deeper onto his, his body still lighting up in sensations he felt he never knew before. As his mind hurried to catch up to the evolving situation and new desires continued blooming within, one thing quickly became achingly clear. Much as his tail betrayed him before, he now felt a throbbing hardness hidden under the layer of his robes and pants. He had felt it pulse and twitch earlier at her careful caresses, but now with her intentions laid bare, the situation far from friendly, and her body pressed against his, there was no denying it as the blood rushed ever further down into his groin.

For a brief moment he felt as if he was almost searching for new things to fear to ignore the comfort and passion of their kisses. As perceptive as ever, Tav seemed to notice this new wave of nerves. That, or he realized, she couldn’t help but feel his erection pressed against her due to their proximity. She finally eased her mouth away from his, allowing them both to suck in a few much needed gulps of air.

Catching his eye and leaning her forehead close to his, he felt her adjust and give a long slow roll of her hips against his hardness.

Even through the many layers of fabric the sensation of pure pleasure that tore through him was undeniable. An unmistakably vulgar groan fell from his lips before he could quell it and he felt his eyelids flutter. Tav simply smiled, and repeated the motion, spreading her knees as wide as they could go to push her hips further against him.

Rolan trembled with delight; his mind once again racing to catch up to this new development. But as his mind looked for ways to worry about this, he found himself coming up blank. The unrelenting lust and passion of the situation finally staking claim on all of his senses. It felt so good. Too good to ignore or deny further.

Another roll of her hips had his heart racing at the unimaginable level of pleasure just the mere friction of her body pressing against his made him feel. She moved more purposefully now, without pause or hesitation, grinding her very core, her own heat, against him. Her goal it seemed, lay in far more carnal pleasures than just simply driving him mad.

He dipped a hand under the edge of her loose tunic as she continued to writhe against him, and he splayed his hand across her naked back. Savoring again the feeling of her flesh against his.

It was miraculous. It was indecent. It was passionate. It was lewd. But most importantly in his head, above all else – it just felt so fucking good.

“Tav…” He groaned, unable and now finally unafraid of holding back his vocal enjoyment at this point. “If you keep going...I...I’m going...to…” Each word came out punctuated by a heavy gasping breath. He was fully panting now, the sheer ecstasy at feeling her rut against him, at the friction rubbing against his hard cock, at the entire situation really – all already so close to pushing him over the edge.

Her response was immediate. She paused her rocking and pulled back a touch to look him square in the eye. There was not a trace of annoyance in her face; just pure care for him. For his comfort.

“Do you want me to stop?” She asked, a little breathless. His throat burned. The immediacy of her response to him. Her unfaltering care for his feelings. The genuine and absolute respect. It struck him hard in the chest and felt almost as painful as the sudden loss of her delicious movements.

His eyes met hers. Part of him realized how improper this all was. He should be lavishing her with flowers and gifts. He supposed. He didn’t have much experience with it, but came to understand that was the thing to do during proper courtships. But a deeper part of him didn’t care. The city was in crumbles around them. They had defeated an army of mind-flayers and he himself had been to hell and back. To the hells with what was proper. He had tied his life to being stifled and composed; there was a time and place for it and now was neither.

“No, please don’t stop.” He finally breathed out. She grinned and leaned back in for another sweeping kiss, immediately resuming the pulsing and rocking of her hips against his. His entire body filled to the brim with burning fire again and another loud moan fell from his lips and the return of the sensation that was bringing him to the brink.

Tav was moaning too, he realized, soft breathy sounds, her breath hot against his ears. Provoked by the idea that she was possibly getting even a tiniest bit of the same level of pleasure from this that he was, he sat up slightly. He wrapped his arms fully around her, drawing her closer and holding her tight.

All last thoughts of maintaining composure well and fully gone, he thrust his groin up in time with her own movements. It took him a moment to find the right rhythm, the practice of movements such as this not in his natural repertoire. But before long they synced up in unison and increased the pace.

“Yes. Tav. Please. Tav. Please. Yes.” Words spilled from his lips with each jerking movement as the sensation within him built to a feverish peak. As the tingling feeling crested within him, at the last moments, all words seem to fail. Only moans and salacious grunts remained.

His grip tightened around her waist, one clawed hand grasping at her shirt, the other leaving scratches on her bare back as his body begin to coil and tense. It was the moment just before a spell releases, that last uttered syllable as it traveled from throat to teeth to air, bringing forth all kinds of magic into existence. He met her eyes again and she was that moment.

Her face was flush from her exertions, her pupils blown wide, staring at him with pure desire, her absolute and incessant need to take care of him. Him.

A last roll of her hips and he was done. He cried out obscenely as his tension released and he came so hard that his head spun. His cock pulsed, pressed hard between them, spilling his seed in his pants beneath his robe. As waves of his orgasm crested and rolled through his shaking and sputtering body, he felt his whole body begin to release in a way he didn’t think was possible. He tossed his head back to lean on the back of the couch it seemed like every muscle in his body went limp at once. He indeed thought he might pass out with the way his heart pounded in his chest and he sucked in deep gasps of air; thinking he might never catch his breath.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind he thought of the mess he had made, in his own clothes no less, but it was quickly overtaken by the feeling of Tav leaning close, looking to close the gap he had created by sinking into the couch.

She placed a wet kiss against the throbbing pulse of his neck and nuzzled her face there while he rode out the high of his own selfish, greedy pleasure.

After a moment of deep breathing and bliss, his heart started to calm and points of panic and fear started to creep back into his mind one by one. He adjusted his head slightly to sit up, needing to face her. Feeling him move, Tav sat up further as well to meet his eyes, but made no move to climb down off his lap.

“Can I still take you to dinner?” He asked quickly as their eyes met, addressing the most pressing of his concerns; that this was just a little fling. He pulled his hand back out of her shirt, wanting this to feel as formal and romantic as possible now, given the situation. Tav smiled brightly and gave an eager nod, leaning in for a quick, and rather chaste, kiss.

“I would be a little offended if you didn’t.” She raised a brow at him. “How about tonight?” She suggested and he once again reveled in her boldness. A quality, he quite felt, that was rubbing off on him.

Rolan cleared his throat; it would be next to impossible to regain full composure after what they had done, but he still tried.

“Yes. Grand. Wonderful. Great. We shall...um… have dinner tonight then.” He said, sounding almost curt in his attempt to seem collected.

Tav was utterly unfazed by his tone and gave him another smile and a tender kiss on his lips before starting to try and disentangle herself from his hands and tail, intending on standing up.

Despite the embarrassing mess in his pants, despite the awkwardness of the situation, despite her trying to start to pull away; he found himself pulling her back. His whole body, not just his tail this time, speaking for him and refusing to let her go. He pulled her back in tightly and pressed his cheek to hers, letting his eyes shut with a soft sigh as her warm body enveloped his.

Tav paused a moment before giving in and wrapped her arms around his neck, relaxing herself back into his arms.

“Can we just…stay like this a moment more?” He whispered softly into her neck before he lost the courage to do so. He found himself struck with a deep fear at letting her go. It overtook any apprehension he felt about actually giving his feelings a voice. What if she didn’t come back? What if something happened to her? What it what if what it. But, most striking among his worry, was the ache he could already feel at lack of contact. Now that he had felt her touch he didn’t think he could survive without it.

“As long as you like.” Tav whispered back with a smile against his cheek.

#my writing #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #rolan x tav #rolan nation #rolan #bg3 smut #rolan fanfic

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

To all my fellow, “Zukka in the southern water tribe” enthusiasts

#zukka #zuko x sokka #atla #zukka fanart #I just love the idea that once Sokka and Zuko stop being pining idiots in the fire nation #they start taking regular trips to the southern water tribe together #and eventually it’s a monthly thing #and that’s where Sokka (or zuko) proposes #that concept has been in my brain forever I needed to get it out

[risuola]

Please hear me out!

i’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I wanted to write it myself but I can’t write for shit 😭 Here’s my idea, reader (she/her) is close friends with Satoru and Suguru. She takes Suguru’s place instead, and Suguru ends up not going insane, and decides to stick around in Jujutsu High. But because the reader takes his place in this story, she spirals and abandons the idea of being morally good. (She’s a sensitive softie at heart 🥹 the cruel reality of being a sorcerer really took a toll on her). She commits so many crimes that the higher ups urge the strongest duo to finally execute her after dismissing her for nearly a decade. She dies in their hands, and doesn’t get a proper burial. Kenjaku takes her body and uses it as vessel. When Shibuya arc finally unfolds, she shows up right in front of Satoru and Suguru, alive and well. Soon reveals that it’s Kenjaku who has full control of her body. Of course their guilts eats them alive, and the reader (more like kenjaku) rubs salt on their wounds by taunting them about how she’s a great vessel and also a waste that she had to die so soon.

LOST CAUSE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU + GETO SUGURU, but there’s no romance whatsoever, guest appearance of Kenjaku

cw: an au where SatoSugu have another close friend; spoilers for Hidden Inventory/Premature Death arc and the very beginning of Shibuya arc, so much angst and the usual that comes with JJK – blood, hurt, tears and depression : D also, possibly inaccurate references to the original plot, reader's death — 5,5k words

a/n: I’m hearing you out dear! Thank you for the conception, it certainly fulfilled my need to write long and angsty <3

It was stupid. All of it was stupid. Why? Which decisions led you to where you now stood, all of your mind and body filled with devastation as you stilled in time – above the piles of little corpses, disfigured and permanently contorted in a grimace of dread and suffering. A stench of blood and burned bodies irritated your nostrils, your eyes were teary from all the smoke that still was filling the air and as you looked down at your hands, they were covered in blood and purple goo. Sticky. Repulsive. And the screams. In the dead silence of your surroundings, your head was still filled with an echo of those, who were now dead at your feet. Those, who you were unable to save. The imagery of them running, begging, dying carved itself into your mind. Why were you here, again?

* * *

“Hey, y/n, you’ve lost some weight. Are you alright?”, Satoru asked, playing with pencil that just a moment ago he asked you to throw at him. A showcase of his new skills, the techniques he’s been perfecting for the last year after encountering Toji Fushiguro. You forced a smile, squinting from the blinding sun of the summer at its peak.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, patting Suguru’s shoulder, because his attentive eyes were scanning you already for any sign of disorder; you could hear his analytic brain cranking up, his golden pupils drilling holes in your head. “I’m good, it’s just too hot you know?”

“Wanna go grab some ice cream later?”

“Always.” No, you didn’t wanna go grab ice cream with them. You didn’t wanna grab anything with anyone for that matter and already you had come up with some half-baked excuse to sell later to your two best friends.

You, Shoko, Gojo and Geto were all in the same year in Jujutsu high. You joined them a little late, but quickly found yourself inside the love triangle with the two boys. You called it love, but it truly was nothing more than just a bonding friendship that you wished will last forever; a really close one and you couldn’t imagine your world without their chaos. They were like brothers to you, the ones you’ve never had and Ieiri was like a sister, but she was smart enough to keep her distance from the mess of SatoSugu. You were not as bright in that matter, but for two years, you couldn’t appreciate enough the yin and yang that they created, the casual bickers and deep talks late at night, the cuddles and pinches, the pats and smacks, the tears and laughs, sleepovers, sleepless nights and everything between. You loved them, you couldn’t think of your future without them.

That’s until not that long ago. Few months, maybe. You felt like you’ve been spiraling slowly into something that could only be named depression, because if not that, then what else? Why would you randomly tear up nowadays, zoning out completely in the midst of sentences. Why would you spend nights, blankly staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping, isolating yourself from your friends more and more? And why would you still hear that? The screams, the pleads of hysteric, the soul-tearing sounds of pain and frighten that you’ve been carrying inside your brain since that one mission.

Everything went wrong then, and you were alone. Shoko stayed at the campus, working her way towards becoming a doctor and you, Satoru and Suguru were assigned only to solo missions since the plasma vessel failure. You were strong, it was stated that your year was exceptional, that all of you have a chance to become special grades soon, but you hated that. Being strong came with a burden that you were not ready to take, and when you realized that, most of it was already heaving on your shoulders.

When you got to that school, it was already too late and it wasn’t your fault. You rushed there as soon as you were assigned with the job, but when you dropped the curtain and looked at the building, there was already smoke coming from the window holes, that some time earlier had glass in them. And when you kicked your way inside the little indoor sports arena, the view struck you in ways you couldn’t possibly prepare yourself for and certainly, you couldn’t process it as well. The school was primary, those people were just kids, but the curses pay no mind to age of their victims. This one was particularly playful – or rather, eagerly violent – spreading hellfire around, burning these children alive one by one, causing chaos, suffering and bloodshed. When you finished exorcising it, it was over. For the curse, for your job and for the lives of all of those children. None survived. Not even one.

Not always we can save everyone, Suguru always told you, rationalizing the sacrifices sorcerers have to make and you tried to repeat that in your head when you got out. You tried to play it over the screams, but eventually, the soft tone of your friend’s voice got lost in the catastrophic cacophony of sorrow, sizzling skin and burning death. And that, maybe wouldn’t be enough for you to lose your mind. Maybe you could recover from that, but soon after the incident you witnessed the group of people that stood behind the assault. A band of grown humans, men and women, who were convinced some of those children were possessed by devils or some other shit, so in all hypocrisy known to race, they hired a curse user to fight fire with fire. Quite literally. Those people were so blinded by their fear of unknown that they sacrificed lives of dozens of little children, they shattered so many innocent lives only because they believed in something absurd. And then, they tried to push the blame on you, on sorcerers despite the fact they hired one to do the dirty job. And then, they killed the user, fearing him too. When you’ve got to see the body of a sorcerer that you’ve never got to meet, or at least you thought so, you realized that probably, you wouldn’t recognize him anyway. You’ve seen corpses barely reminiscing of humans, twisted and broken as curses often chose the most petrifying, violent ways of killing, but this? This was something you’ve never seen before – a cruel, ruthless exhibition of pure hate, evidence of deliberate torture, the picture painted in stabs, burns and bruises. All of which, caused by people, who frankly, showed no remorse nor regret as their faces were painted in pride, origin of which you failed to notice.

Those humans. Used jujutsu to commit mass murder only to blame it on your people and kill them. Animals. No. Worse. Much worse.

“Y/n, please, let’s talk it through,” Suguru tried to reason, as you stood up against the two of your friends, in the middle of Shibuya’s scramble crossing. People were passing next to the three of you, unbothered by the way your worlds were colliding right here, in the busiest part of Tokyo. People didn’t care of others, they wouldn’t react if someone next to them would get stabbed to death, only caring about their own shoes to not get them stained in the dirt of blood.

“Don’t be stupid, it’s not who you are,” Satoru raised his tone, but all you felt was nothing. The emotions you’ve seen on his face were real, you knew it. Satoru wears his heart on his shoulder, he pours everything he feels into the words he aims at people that are close to his soul, and you were no exception, but at this moment, you felt nothing. “I know you couldn’t do that.”

“Couldn’t I?”, you asked, thinking back on the last Friday, during which you executed those same people that used jujutsu sorcerers to wipe the floors of that primary school. To wipe the blood and burned bodies. You remember how they knelt before you, how the women cried begging for their lives, yelping that they have children, families and yet, those same children and families were nowhere in their mind when they ordered a mass murder in the primary school. “And why would that be exactly? Because you two think so?”

“Y/n, I get it,” Geto stepped forward, but stopped as you glanced at him. “I really do. You know me, we talked about it. It was hard for me too after Riko, I know what you’re going through.”

“I know Suguru.”

“I thought you keep his side, y/n,” Gojo threw his hands in the air, helplessly trying to find the words to dress his mind with. “I thought you believe in doing good with your powers. That people won’t understand so we shouldn’t look at them and just do what we do. Wasn’t that what you’ve told me?”

“I did, yes,” you gave it a nod and exhaled. “But it changed. Yes, they won’t understand. Anything that they can’t comprehend is pure evil for them and yet they believe in such absurd like gods. They will use us to do their dirty works and then blame us for it, because they cannot understand a single thing. And then, they will kill us, one by one and we, the strongest, cannot do nothing about it. We’ll have to go through life through the corpses of our friends. People don’t deserve what we do for them.”

“Y/n, please, let’s talk about it. Let’s get back to school-“ Geto tried, but you cut him off.

“You two, get back to school. I know I have a sentence already, there’s no point for me to get back there only to get executed. And frankly, I don’t want to get back there, to take part in what they teach us is right when we die for those people. We give our lives for them and they have no idea,” you said, taking a step back. You could tell the lights will soon switch. “Look around, Satoru, Suguru. They crawl around us unaware of our sacrifice and yet, even if they are so fragile a single blow can kill them, they think we deserve to be killed. I’m not gonna take part in this anymore. I’m sorry.”

“We can’t let you go, you know that, we-“

“Then attack me. I’m sure any of you can take me down. I’d rather die by your hands, than on a job of protecting them.”

You turned your back on them, and Satoru raised his hand, pointing at your silhouette, blue already on his mind as his cursed energy gathered in front of his fingers. Suguru’s curses sprawled out of their dimension, but none of them pursued with the attack, unable to do that. They couldn’t kill you. You were too dear to them. They loved you too much to take your life like this. So they let you go, and soon enough, they lost the sight of you in the crowd.

* * *

Nine years. It's been almost a decade and many things changed. You changed your ways completely, making a point of protecting sorcerers from people, even if that meant killing them, but care for humans was something you’ve lost many years ago, having it slowly replaced by disgust. Your once soft heart turned hard and dark and all the good in you vanished as you time after time solidified your beliefs that humans are simply not worth saving, therefore there was no need to keep them alive the moment they became useless. Over those years, you used those people to your benefit, raising money and gathering intel and then, the second their use to you has become nonexistent, so were them. Blood burned permanent stains on your hands but screams of hurt didn’t phase you at all. Have you become a monster? You might have. But for the lives of sorcerers, it was worth it.

It’s been almost a decade since you’ve been dismissed from jujutsu community for crimes, that over those years piled up rapidly and during this time, both Satoru and Suguru tried to stay out of this, whilst Yaga turned a blind eye to the corrupted path one of his students went down by. The now principal felt responsible for not doing enough, for not saying enough, for not noticing soon enough and though the rest of his students, now teachers in Jujutsu high told him that some things were inevitable, it wasn’t that easy to switch off the thinking. Same went for both the strongest, but for years, they waited in hopes for something to change.

That was until you killed someone seemingly important. A politician of sorts, high government pawn that you learned was funding a unit of so-called sorcerer killers, ones that modelled after Toji Fushiguro in cold blood were meant to take down a menace that jujutsu users were, as if it was them who were the ones to fear. Opposite to little no-one’s deaths, this one was loud, this one was medial and this one, Yaga couldn’t let slip. So, an order was given.

Kill on sight.

Almost ten years, and yet Satoru still couldn’t believe what happened. Whilst young, the three of you were almost inseparable and you, out of the whole group, were the most sensitive person he knew. You were soft and full of smiles, kind above all else and yet, you were strong enough to hold back the tears he knew were threatening to roll down your cheeks on many occasions. You were soothing, an oasis that was easily able to turn any darkness into light, and what Satoru couldn’t forgive himself was that once that same darkness started devouring you, he didn’t notice. Too focused on his own missions, on lighthearted shenanigans, on perfecting his usage of limitless and six eyes, he had no idea about your state of mind and when he realized, you have already been sentenced. Suguru didn’t notice either. Or maybe didn’t want to notice, because you talked through many nights about the doubts you both had. He knew about the utter devastation that was slowly consuming your soul but hoped you’ll overcome it, because you always were a sunshine, and a sunshine couldn’t die down to shadows. Turned out, this shadow was pitch black and no light made its way through it.

“Y/n,” they called you and the beautiful music that their voices created brought back memories of your youth. Ten years, almost, had passed since you’ve seen your best friends the last time, and with curiosity sparkling through your system, you turned to face them.

“Satoru, Suguru,” addressing them, your lips curved up slightly in a manner of soft joy. Your heart fluttered at the sight; your pulse raised just as it would for person who’s just seen the love of their life. “Long time no see.”

“It’s not as pleasurable as we would like it to be, y/n,” Suguru sighed and you took a moment to absorb the view.

Both of them changed. Suguru, still tall and broad, seemingly even buffier than he was before stood there with his hair now longer and partially knotted and partially left loose on his back. His facial features sharpened, jaw got more edge to it, eyes turned more narrow and focused, but still, some softness remained from what you remembered and probably he would seem even more familiar if not for the tough expression he had going on. Satoru, right next to him, became even taller. His white hair was now pointing up, kept by a white wrap that completely covered his eyes – something that he probably adapted during the time of usage of his six eyes. Not much of his face you could see, but with ease you noticed his features matured. Both were dressed in uniforms that you could only tie to their unbreakable bond with Jujutsu high.

“You’re now teachers, the two of you, huh?”, you asked, smiling softly, but keeping their moves in mind. “I’ve heard this year’s students are exceptional, now it makes sense. Good they have such amazing senseis.”

“You could have been one of the teachers too,” Gojo snapped.

“How could I teach anyone something I don’t believe in?” a chuckle rumbled deep in your chest as you thought of the image. Abstraction of it made you amused. “How’s Shoko? Is she a doctor now?

“She is,” Geto muttered, unsure why is he answering your questions. “Yaga is the principal.”

“Oh, is he? Look at him, climbing up that ladder,” you laughed, “so, it’s on his orders that you two are here?”

“You killed a fucking politician, y/n,” Satoru spoke, sounding calm but you could tell his blood was boiling. Both of his hands hidden in his pockets were visibly clenched in fists and even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew his brows were furrowed. “Almost a decade we allowed you to do whatever you tried to do, but this time, higher ups stepped in. The sentence is decided, we cannot let you pursue your goals further.”

“And why are you both here? I’m sure just one amazing special grade would be enough,” there was a certain amount of poison in your words, though it wasn’t directed at your friends and both of them knew it. “Are the higher ups so desperate to get me off the board because it’s them who give green lights to those assholes that kill us? Did you know that that pathetic politician I’ve killed was in midst of creating an army of little Toji Fushiguros? How do you think he even knew about the dude, huh?”

“An army of Toji?”

“Yeah, remember that guy, that cut both of you into slices? Yea, that one. And who’s giving away the cursed tools to said army? Well, it’s not me and I assume not any of you as well.”

 “Y/n,” Suguru made his way to the side in what seemed like an attempt on surrounding you, because in that same moment, Satoru began shifting to the other side. “I agree with you. People don’t deserve what we do. But no one else can do it. You’re killing those whom we swore to protect.”

“Tell me, Suguru… how many bodies of our friends did Shoko cut open?” you asked and the question made the dark-haired man tsk. It was the truth that hurt the most, he hated how precisely it hit the spot. “How many of our allies were spread across her metal table after Haibara was there? Well, half of Haibara?”

“That’s not the point,” Satoru scoffed and with an exhale, he raised his hand up to loosen up the bandages around his eyes. “We die just as people die. Sorcerers are not above death. You know that, right?”

“We’re not above that, but we are above people and we risk our lives, which we just like them have only one of, for them. And they fuckingstep on it. If I have to pick who’s gonna die from a curse, why would I pick a sorcerer, when a loss of a mere human will be much less tangible than the loss of one of us?”

“Because they cannot protect themselves from curses, and we can.” Geto replied and in a whiff, you felt the appearance of his curses around him. Both him and Gojo were getting ready for a fight, so you had to get ready as well.

“But can we really protect ourselves from them?”, you glared back at him; your tone calm but laced with icicles that pierced through Suguru’s mind as he struggled to see you inside of you.

All of the softness he had always equated you with dissolved into something he couldn’t quite place. Image of you killing someone just for the sake of killing somehow couldn’t materialize inside his mind and it pained him, breaking his heart to think that he will be the reason of your death. And it’s true that probably, just one of them would be enough for that fight, but there was no way they would be able to chose and no one else could do it. You were the strongest, you grew into a special grade quickly after leaving and your technique proved to have no flaws or holes. You were a threat above abilities of others, stepping down only to the two of your friends, if not being equal to them.

“Let’s do it quickly, Suguru,” Satoru sighed, tucking his wraps into one of his pockets.

“Oh, where’s your playful attitude, Satoru?”, you teased, but somehow it hurt you as well. It was your friend you were talking to. Both of them, that came here to kill you and only way for you to get out of it was to kill them.

And killing them, turned out, you couldn’t do. Even hurting them came with difficulty not physically, but mentally. But you fought them both at the same time, keeping a defensive stance, searching for an opening to vanish. From them, you wished to run away, to not make them take the burden of your death because you could see it in their eyes, you were just as dear to them still, as they were to you. But they left you no opening to run away, so you fought. Using everything you’ve got to immobilize them, because instead of taking their lives, that would give you more time.

The way you stood against them, with your cursed technique of energy manipulation, it gave them the hardest time since Toji, and considering they were both taking part in the fight now, ten years after and significantly stronger, just showed how much work you’ve put into your own development. And with pride you noticed, how strong both of your friends became as well. You countered all of their attacks, slashed away the curses and blocked the blues and reds, albeit it really was a matter of time and you knew that. And so, you pushed through, materializing in your hands weapons made from pure, solidified cursed energy, using swords and needles and creating armor around your body that effectively, shielded you from any attack. Your weapon was different from cursed tools. It was made only from energy, strong and unbendable, changing shapes and forms as you deemed it necessary, allowing you to use it in close combat and on long distances. Any curses Suguru summoned stood no chance against what you wielded, but the sheer amount of them was just short of overwhelming you. On top of that, Satoru’s constant offensive, his fists saturated in limitless abilities, the sheer strength of both bodies that were attacking you, slowly rendered you weaker. And it didn’t surprise you.

The end has come when one of the curses stopped you mid-way, engaging in a fight that distracted you enough for a hollow purple to reach your body. The blast threw you away as your body pierced through three buildings straight, through thick concrete bocks and hard steel reinforcements like it was tearing through wet paper and it’s only thanks to the full body coverage of your cursed technique, that it didn’t kill you on the spot. But it hurt. All of your body felt broken once you finally stopped, back pressed against the wall that still cracked underneath the impact of your frame hitting it. Blood covered your vision and a cough shook your body with painful wave overtaking your entire nervous system.

“So that’s the infamous hollow purple, huh?”, you muttered, leaning your head back against the cold solid behind you. There wasn’t much in your body that wouldn’t be fractured at least, you could tell without a mistake that your heart was still beating only because of the cursed energy that still circled throughout your frame.

Both men appeared in front of you, jumping from above – Suguru coming from one of his flying curses and Satoru, probably just teleported here.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Gojo whispered, squatting in front of you and Geto followed his motion to level his vision with yours.

“’ts alright, ‘toru,” you muttered, feeling the dizziness taking the best of you. After the hit you took, you were certain not even a genius like Shoko could save you. “Sugu… both so strong.”

Exchanging a quick glance, both sorcerers sat down, on your sides, paying no mind to the puddle of blood underneath you. They took your hands, so small in comparison to theirs, now red and wounded severely, but the pain you couldn’t feel much of anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t take this mission for you. Back in our days. It was meant to be mine, but I was training,” Satoru confessed, squeezing lightly the fractured bones in your palm, reminiscing of the day that was the beginning of your end. The elementary. That day engraved itself in his memory as one of many days that seemingly mattered nothing. Yaga told him about the issue, the curse and fire in school for the youngest, but he brushed it off, focusing all of his mind on perfecting the last touches of his technique. He still remembers how sensei was mumbling profanities, but couldn’t care less because he was that close from teleporting.

“’ts okay, ‘toru.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there either,” Suguru added, his voice barely a whisper as you leaned your head against his shoulder, desperate to ease the heaviness. What Geto remembered from the day in question was that he had an issue with his own technique. Little difficulty, as he was absorbing one of the special grade curses he just caught. It wasn’t severe, it wasn’t even that important, he could have fix this on another time and take the god damn mission, but instead, he declined. “I thought if I don’t take the job, Satoru will, but turned out, it got to you.”

“Sugu, ‘ts ok.”

“Remember how we used to sneak out the dorms to get ice cream in the middle of the night?”, Satoru changed the topic completely – a defensive mechanism to lighten up the mood, to prevent him from crying. And you hummed in response, lowering your heavy lids.

“And how Satoru got drunk after three sips of a beer? That’s when we all knew he’s the lightest head in the history,” Suguru added and faded images of how Gojo discovered that he cannot drink to save his life rushed to the front of your mind.

You had no idea how long it took, was it few minutes or merely few seconds, but you listened to both men rambling above your head, reminiscing of your school days and everything that you did together. Of every prank you witnessed that they took on poor first years, of every little mischief and menace they performed, following Satoru’s lead, because it’s always him who stood tall in the name of chaos. You were humming softer and softer, quieter and quieter.

Until you were not.

“And then we put those cupcakes in Nanami’s bed and-“

“Satoru,” Geto cut him softly, looking down at your stilled frame. At your frozen chest and softened features, sensing no more heartbeat. And Gojo turned his eyes towards you as well, taking in the last picture of you, who he loved as his little sister, even though there was no age gap between you and him. And then they both cried in silence, spending another hour with your dead body before gathering you and taking home.

* * *

October 31, 2018

21:18

Only word that could describe what was happening in Shibuya at this moment would be chaos. Pure disorder, people frightened and running, some unconscious on the ground and some other hiding from what was happening in the Shibuya station. Most of them couldn’t see it but felt the terror, saw the blood, smelled the death in the middle of which, two men were standing.

Both Satoru and Suguru, when they came down here to fight whatever the hell was attacking people, couldn’t move; their heads void of any logical thoughts as memories rushed to the fronts of their minds. Stunned to the core and frozen, they looked into the eyes of the person in front of them, distrusting their own vision. The person that wore the familiar look of you, the energy of you and what seemed like – the same cursed technique, and voice, and face, and hair, and everything. Not one thing betrayed trickery or deception as there you stood, facing them both with a smile on your face – one of those soft ones that had melted their hearts on the spot a decade before. Your features relaxed, genuine, borderline joyous as you breathed the air around them once again.

“What…?”, Suguru snapped first, forcing his own body to move and smacking his friend’s shoulder. “How?”

“Who the hell are you…?”, Satoru whispered, voice stuck in his throat as all of the information that his senses were receiving contradicted with what his soul was telling him.

“Aah? It’s been few months, but do you not recognize me anymore?”, your voice flew through your mouth, the very same gentle and bright tone they used to fall asleep to. “It’s hurting my feelings.”

“Cut it,” Gojo snapped, now putting more pressure on his vocal cords, a groan escaping his throat in effect. “Cut the bullshit, you’re not her. You cannot be her. Y/n is-“

“Dead? Yeah, that purple really messed me up,” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders slightly and stepping forward. “I have to admit, restoring the body wasn’t the easiest of all.”

“Reveal yourself,” Geto took the defensive stance, ready to pursue with attack if needed and his curses floating behind him on standby. “You’re not fooling us.”

“Ah, how stubborn,” another laugh brightened your face, only now more menacing, more teasing as your dainty fingers reached up to gather the lose hair out of your forehead, revealing a line of thin stitches across your skin there. “See, you really did me a favor by burying her body oh-so traditionally. Isn’t that the procedure to burn every deceased sorcerer?” your mouth was moving, spilling the words interlaced with taunt as the, what looked like, thread was pulled out of the horizontal line above your eyebrows and soon after, grabbed by the hair, the top of your head was lifted, revealing the terrifying image of a brain. With mouth of its own.

“What did you do to her?!”

“Oh, I just took what you two threw away,” you replied, slowly putting the upper skull part down on its place, matching the lines as the thread went through the holes by itself, securing the head together. “And I have to thank you for your little sentiment. If not for that, I wouldn’t have my perfect vessel. Ah, but it’s sad, isn’t it? Such a young, pretty girl had to die so early, and more so, killed by her own best friends. What a waste to jujutsu community, don’t you think?”

Both the boys stood there in shock, guilt eating them alive as the salt and acid was being rubbed into the wounds that just opened. The scabs of the past were ripped away, revealing the gushing pain and Satoru growled in anger, realizing that once again, he might have been responsible for what happened to you. This time, Suguru kept up with him in terms of fury, feeling his own blood boiling in his veins, unable to watch your body being possessed like this, used like a toy.

“Y/n, I know you’re there-“ Gojo called, but got stopped quickly by another pilfering laugh.

“Oh, but she’s not. Her soul is long gone and dead. You made sure to have her soul dead, and you have to know I nearly teared up reviewing her memories when I took the body. Such a poignant story, oh, so heartbreaking.” The teasing had no end as more and more poisonous venom spilled through your mouth, contradicting the carefree and joyful tone of your voice.

“What makes you believe that even if you take her body, you can win here? We’ve defeated her already,” Suguru narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, you’ve won but that’s because she let you two won. Wasn’t that surprising how easily you finished her? A special grade? How she didn’t even try to dodge the hollow purple, like the little curse that she was fighting with was really that much of a struggle? Oh, don’t be silly, you two. It wouldn’t be that easy if she tried.”

“We won’t let you-“

“You must understand your situation. What you’re standing in is a special grade cursed object. A prison realm, and to say it simply, you’ve already lost,” you pointed at the floor, from where the four corners of a cube stretched into a mass of flesh, with an eye – giant and bleeding, staring at its target, as the next stage of sealing began before either of sorcerers reacted. “And what’s more interesting, the prison realm can seal only one person at the time, but with the incredible technique of my current host, I was able to fuel its capacity to two occupants, by manipulating the cursed energy it used. Marvelous!”

The cursed object began enveloping both men, rendering them helpless and immobile, as their cursed energy became unavailable for their use.

“We’ll save you, y/n, you hear me?”, Satoru yelled in unison with his friend and the lone tear rolled down your face, before your hand reached up wiping it in amusement.

“Gate close.”

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Also if your taking requests could you maybe write Eddie x fem!Scoops Ahoy Worker!reader

✦ A SCOOP OF MISUNDERSTANDINGS | e. munson x reader ✦

wc: 2k+

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

warnings: not a lot of warnings tbh, just swearing, jealousy, fluff, like annoyingly fluffy, i hope this isn't cheesy and tiny tiny bit of angst if u RLLY squint

summary: eddie is really enamored with the new scoops ahoy worker, and is jealous of how her and steve get along so well.

authors note: NONNIE PLS EXCUSE HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY ASKS FOR A LONG TIME!! im so glad u liked polaroids and now i hope u like this as well and hope i did ur request justice <33 this concept was so fun to write!! ITS ABIT CHEESY BUT I LOVE CHEESY SO EXCUSE ME PLS! also lmk if u want more like this or all ur requests and any of ur feedback pls send me an ask abt anything ily all <3

eddie LOOVES ice cream, and most of all, eddie loves going to scoops ahoy with dustin and annoying the shit out of steve.

it's like their weekly routine at this point, getting ice-cream, but also trying all the flavors so they can get free ice-cream, steve and robin always end up yelling at them.

so eddie entered the scoops ahoy shop with a smirk on his face, and the mission of annoying steve, but his smirk is wiped off and he is almost baffled by something, or rather someone.

you.

he is intrigued at the sight of you, standing next to steve, pouting your glossed plump lips at him for something he is saying, and you look so pretty, that it catches him off guard. even with that stupid scoops ahoy hat on top of your hat, eddie thinks you look so fucking good that it's unfair, and he is too dumbfounded to speak.

you laugh at something steve says, and it makes eddie's heart skip a beat. his mind is fuzzy when he's staring at you, he wonders if you're new here, because if someone as angelic as you worked here before, he wouldn't have missed it.

his attention is drawn back to robin, who tries to take his and dustin's order and dustin asks to try his 100th flavor "god, will you take eddie and dustin's order i need to go on a break!" she exclaims shouting your name, groaning. you nod quickly as you wave steve away.

a warm smile is plastered on your face, "welcome to scoops ahoy! what can i get for you, dustin" you point to dustin, guessing the kid steve always talked about must've been him, and then you turn to eddie.

"and, eddie?" you smile, also remembering him from steve's stories, as he told you all about eddie and how he was 'not jealous' that dustin had gotten another older brother, who played the 'same stupid nerd game as dustin'.

"you know my name?" eddie asked, his eyes widening and his mouth dried up. "robin just told our names, you doofus." dustin lightly nudged him, and a blush crept up eddie's cheeks, his first words to you and he already looked like an idiot, great, he thought to himself.

"oh, not only that but that one talks about you two all the time!" you said giggling as you pointed to steve.

"all good things i hope." eddie chuckled and you gave him a warm smile again, nodding. the way your eyes sparkled as you smiled was etched into his brain forever, dustin realized eddie's adoring looks but he kept his mouth shut.

"so, uh... what kind of ice cream would you like today? we have a lot of flavors!" you asked, showing them dozens of ice cream flavors.

"i'll have one scoop of chocolate and one scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough, and same for him, if that's okay." eddie said, smiling at you.

you looked up at him, your smile widening. "coming right up!" you said sweetly, grabbing a cone and getting to work.

as you did so, dustin lightly nudged eddie's shoulder, eddie could barely turn his head around to dustin when all he could do was focus on you. "what?" he asked annoyed.

"dude, you have to ask her out!" dustin exclaimed excitedly and eddie threw him a look as to say 'keep your voice down idiot, she's right there!'

"what?" eddie asked playing dumb and dustin rolled his eyes, "you've been gawking at her ever since we walked in, just ask her out!" dustin encouraged eddie.

but eddie didn't know how he was supposed to do that. he was the 'freak' of hawkins, and you were- oh you were so pretty, so nice and you seemed so kind. he couldn't even manage to get his words out when you were around, let alone ask you out on a date.

"maybe next time, kiddo." he gave dustin's shoulder a squeeze, as eddie watched you laughing at steve's jokes again, and sighed.

he knew you were out of his league and possibly suited better for someone like 'king steve' anyway, but it didn't stop him from returning in a few days.

"eddie, hi!" the way your face instantly lit up and how you remembered his name, made him smile, eddie was putty in your hands with just two interactions.

"one scoop chocolate and one scoop chocolate chip again?" you remembered his name and his order? eddie's heart was about to burst out of his chest, you were giving the poor boy hope with just existing.

he nodded, and you scooped a generous portion of ice cream into a cone. "will that be all?" your tone was so sweet that it was making eddie sick.

"um, yeah." eddie said, feeling a bit flustered. he took the cone and turned to leave, but then he hesitated, dustin's words rang in his mind. he knew he at least had to start more conversations with you.

"hey, um, do you have any recommendations for other flavors?" he asked, his voice was still timid.

you grinned, excitedly. "oh, there are so many! have you tried the mint chocolate chip? it's my personal favorite." when he shook his head no, you immediately grabbed a spoon feeding him the ice cream.

you excitedly waited for his feedback, your eyes were glimmering, "really good." he managed to get out with a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, making you giggle.

even if eddie wouldn't have liked the flavor, he would pretend that it was his favorite flavor for the rest of his life if it meant he would get to hear your pretty laugh and those dreamy eyes again.

and eddie knew he was obsessed now, he didn't want to be so hooked on you, but you made it easy, so very easy.

and in the next few weeks, eddie started coming to the shop more often, finding excuses to try new flavors and linger around you at all times. and the more he came the more he got comfortable with you, always making small talk, while trying to be funny and charming, but always feeling like he was failing miserably.

but you didn't seem to mind. in fact, him always coming around to see you, and your conversations were the best part of your day, and your job.

you were always laughing the hardest at his jokes, asking him about his day, and even sneaking him extra scoops of ice cream every now and then.

but eddie had one problem.

steve.

he was always there, talking to you, and making you laugh, jealousy was starting to consume him.

he couldn't help the agonizing anxiety inside of him that made him feel like he wasn't good enough for you, especially compared to steve who seemed to be a ladies' man and had a natural charm to him, along with the 'king steve' title that eddie felt he lacked, the only title he had was, 'the freak'.

and eddie couldn't get you out of his head. his head was constantly filled with thoughts of you and the little moments the two of you shared at scoops ahoy.

so when he came to the shop the next day, he had one thing on his mind. he had to at least try his chances, and ask you out.

"hi, honey." he greeted you, the nickname was something you felt so comfortable with, and it made you feel so giddy inside.

"hi, eds." he loved the nicknames you gave him, 'handsome, eds, pretty boy.' he could feel his insides about to burst when you called him any of them.

when the two of you fell into your routine conversations again, eddie felt comfortable, he felt at ease with your presence, and he realized he could really do it, he could actually ask you out.

so when he called out your name in a soft voice, he gathered his courage, clearing his throat.

"i just wanted to ask you if-" but once again, his voice was drowned out by steve, and he sighed his anxiety was starting to bubble over when your shift instantly focused to steve.

"shit- sorry i'm late, again!" steve's voice was irritating him now, and you waved steve off, to say that it was fine.

"you're only late like 5 minutes." you offered him a smile, and as steve gave you a hug to greet you eddie could feel his stomach knotting up.

he tried to stay composed, but he couldn't help his mind getting fuzzy about his insecurities.

when you returned to eddie, you could sense he was off. "sorry handsome, what were you saying?" you asked, as you gave him a sympathetic smile.

but eddie was distant, and even the 'handsome' nickname, wasn't enough to ease his worries "oh, it was nothing important." his voice was timid and he was now lost in his own thoughts.

"is everything okay?" you asked, your voice filled with worry.

"yeah, yeah, you can go back to your thing with steve, i didn't mean to interrupt." he meant for it to sound casual, but it sounded bitter.

you looked at him, furrowing your brows. "what?" and when you saw the way eddie looked at steve, it clicked.

all the times when steve came and interrupted you and eddie's conversation, all the times steve made you laugh, eddie always had the same disappointed look on his face that he did now.

and you actually face-palmed at the realization, and gave him a chuckle, causing eddie's attention to shift to you again as he gave you a puzzled look.

"jesus- eddie, have i ever told you how i started this job?" you asked, and he shook his head.

"we moved into hawkins a few weeks ago, my dad told me i had to find a summer job and then my cousin told me he got this new job at scoop's ahoy, so i thought why not? and i signed up as well." the information was slow to process eddie's brain.

"steve is my cousin, eds." you said, a smug smirk played on your lips, and eddie immediately felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. "oh."

"shit, i didn't know. sorry." he shook his head, glancing down at the floor.

he wanted to laugh at how foolish he had been, worrying about steve this much in the last few weeks.

"it's okay, i mean we do hang out a lot, but that's because he's my favorite cousin, and it's really fun to be able to annoy him 24/7." you giggled and eddie chuckled, nodding.

he felt a surge of relief, but he wanted to slap himself for being jealous over nothing.

when the conversation between the two of you went back to normal eddie felt comfortable around you again, and he decided to push his plans to asking you out to the next day, his cheeks still blushing at the mention of steve.

so when he says his goodbyes to you, it makes you groan, and eddie tilts his head, confused, as he turns his attention to you.

"are you ever going to ask me out?" you asked, impatiently, and you felt desperate to do so, but you had spent weeks flirting with eddie, and it was driving you crazy now.

eddie blinked slowly, not believing the words that were coming out of your mouth his heart pounding in his chest. "w-what?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

you huffed, "i mean i've been flirting with you for weeks, and i thought you weren't interested, but you did nothing." you pouted, and eddie felt like he was going to faint.

"shit, honey." now your heart was pounding out of your chest, the nickname, again, was enough to make you melt.

"fuck, i've been trying to ask you out for weeks, but i thought you weren't interested, especially because i thought you were interested in steve-" you made a gagging sound at that and his mouth turned up into a soft smile.

he felt like he was dreaming, he felt so stupid. "would you wanna go out with me? maybe to that new restaurant that opened up just right down the street?" he asked, intoxicated by your hopeful eyes.

"yes," you replied, without hesitation. "i would love to."

eddie grinned sheepishly at you. "great," he said. "how about tomorrow afternoon?"

you nodded eagerly. "tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect."

"see you then." eddie replied, appearing to be casual and trying to hide the fact that he was screaming internally. and trying to comprehend that he was actually going to go on a date with you.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #scoops ahoy!reader #eddie munson

[spookberry]

Shadow High series 3 my new beloved

I didnt even like most of em until i saw them in person, but the knowledge that they'll probably never be in the show has my brain in a "well its free realestate" kinda mood

Random list of information cuz ive been plotting out friend dynamics and background lore

-i like to pretend Rainbow High/Shadow High are actually Rainbow University/Shadow University cuz im in art college Right Now and i think it makes more sense with the whole dorm room situation. And also major makes more sense than focus IMO

-I changed Pinkie's major from film to just undeclared. I think she eventually does land on Film. She just has a lot of interests! Her dream has always been to one day direct films, and I think she comes to love them even more while developing ideas her with the group as she winds up in a Director/Producer position for most of them. BUT also every time she takes a class in a different program she cant help but fall in love with that way of making art too. So she has a hard time picking for a while and changed her major a couple times before landing on Film.

-Pinkie and Berrie bond a lot over a shared interest in vocal synths (tho Berrie knows more about them than her).

-The two made Pinkie's vtuber model together!

-the fandom wiki says PJ is from germany?? Idk how canon that is tbh but ive decided to embrace it i guess

-Rooney's canon name is Scarlet Rose, but i thought it was kinda lame especially when Rosie Redwood is also in this line sooo I renamed her! Stuck to the color name puns tho. Mar Rooney. Maroon. Haha

-Speaking on her though i love that shes from texas and likes writing scifi mystery type stuff and that being said i just Know deep in my bones that she was a Voltron Legendary Defender fan and Keith was/is 100% her favorite. She has a continued fondness for mothman specifically cuz of this.

-PJ and Rooney actually talk about fandom and shows/movies ALL the time. They dont have a ton of overlapping interests, but where they do? The two literally never shut up.

-Rosie is such a random character, like outside of her design she feels very poorly considered. So I scrapped the cosmetology thing and made her an illustrator instead! I think it works better with her love of making art in nature. I can see her being really into illustrated guide books. I think shes a bit snooty when it comes to art too. It takes being friends with other artists to become more open minded.

-I like the idea that Rosie is mainly friends with Rooney and Berrie ontop of that. The three of them often tag team storylines and how theyd interpret them into different mediums. Rosie will draw up a bunch of concept stuff while Rooney writes up a pitch bible and Berrie will start making shit move and throwing in her own ideas on camera angles and character designs.

-as an animation major Berrie was required to take a sound design class early on, which is where she met Oliver! Hes very laid back, and likes to go with the flow, but functions a little like the "mom" of the group. Often reminding the girls to take breaks, drink water, stop looking at their screens lest they get eye strain etc. He's multi-talented tbh but Music is his one true passion and he likes how the girls are always giving him collaboration opportunities.

-Oliver and Rosie like to talk sports a lot, both having played a bunch when they were younger and throughout high school.

-Lavender Lynn is Oliver's number one "person who needs constant reminders to settle down" she is in a constant buzz of trying to get the best shots and is utterly obsessed with the process of artistic documentation. Everything must be documented.

-the whole school loves her for this actually, she has a whole side gig where other students hire her to help photograph their projects. She saves everything she earns from this for her future dream plans to visit paris. She has it set really, many of the artists who she helps photograph now will remain steadfast clients of hers forever onward.

-PJ and Lynn actually took a print media class together at one point. Which didnt at the time spark an everlasting friendship. But it did give PJ an easier in to ask for Lynn's help documenting a project the group was working on. One of Lynn's first times photographing them work happened to fall on a day where Rosie had planned to trick everyone into going on a nature walk sans devices... Lynn wound up really appreciating this outing and decided to continue hanging around the group even after that project had ended.

#shadow high #rainbow high #my art #fanart #i had to write down all my ideas just to get them outta my head #now im free

[koishiro]

𝑬𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 | 방탄소년단 📍

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : Jungkook just wants to take care of you and if that means he needs to join you in the bath then so be it

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Jungkook x fem!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : fluff/smut

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : Jungkook has a kink for dom reader, penetration, unprotected sex, cumming inside

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒍 : reader’s nickname is cat because I had too many puns to use im sorry- (it’s explained I promise :’))

main masterlist | kpop masterlist | upcoming anon asks

"Baths ready" I heard echo out of the bathroom.

"Thank you" I mumbled, getting up from the bed, slower this time.

The bath was aromatic, full of bubbles and looked so peaceful. I leaned against the door frame closing my eyes.

"Cat, are you going to be ok in there?" He questioned softly.

"I'm fine" I snapped back to reality. I was aware of my stubborn determination to be self sufficient, especially after having a panic attack.

"It's okay to need help" Again the soft tone of his voice irked at my independence.

"I'm fully capable of having a bath, what are you going to do? join me? It's ok, I've got this" I said trying and failing to unzip the back of my dress.

"If that's what it takes to know you’re okay? Then yes” If I hadn't just burnt out all my brains reserves of adrenalin having a panic attack, I'm positive my mind would have been running a thousand miles an hour, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn't. I was entirely focused on the basic things - like how relaxing the bath looked and how good it would feel to wash my face and hair. I still had some wits about me, as romantic as the concept of having a bath together was, and despite how my body was reacting to the idea, I wasn't necessarily in the right headspace for anything intimate; I tried to make that thought process clear.

"It can't be anything. But, yeah, I'd appreciate the company. I don't really want to be alone right now" I offered honestly, "but you can't look”

"I know" He sighed, "Not like this, this is not how I ever imagined it Y/n, I sincerely just want to make sure you're okay”

"Not like this...?" I repeated what he said. My brain and heart took a double take as I stared up at him. He'd thought about it, he'd thought about us. "Okay, I'm not looking” He turned around, embarrassed.

I slipped out of my clothes and slowly hopped into the bath. It was gigantic, so full of bubbles. The water sitting almost at my shoulders, I was able to easily sit sideways with my knees up to my chest.

"Okay, you can look”

"Aw you look so small” he noted, sitting next to the bath.

"I thought you were going to join me?"

"Ah, it's okay, I'll just keep you company, I really want to let you have space” He reached and scooped up a handful of bubbles, placing them on my head "Cat in a hat”

I took a hand full of bubbles and blew into it, spraying him with them, he laughed and sighed.

I turned to lie and stretch out in the bath, considering I had it all to myself, I thought it best to make the most of it. He leaned against the tub and played videos on his phone to keep us both amused, occasionally splashing me.

"You know you actually need to wash yourself in the bath?" he joked.

My eyes fluttered open and shut again, "’m just so tired, you said to relax" I twisted his words to fit my agenda.

"Come on, wake up!" he splashed my face.

"No, you wake up” I lazily splashed him back.

"We can't hide in here all day" Splash.

"You can't hide in here all day," I splashed him again "This is my home now”

"I thought Cats hated water” Splash.

"It's a myth, I'm a purrmaid now" I stretched out, enjoying my terrible pun and attempting to ignore the barrage of water attacks.

He splashed me just for the bad joke, he sat there looking a little angry and wet "That's it! Cat-tatonic, you can't stay in there forever” he got up and left the room.

"I can and I will!" I yelled after him.

I didn't feel bad about it at all. I lied back again, closing my eyes and enjoying the peace, trying desperately not to accidentally fall asleep.

He sauntered back a few minutes later wearing a towel. With all the photos and videos he'd sent me over the years I'd never actually seen him shirtless. I drank it in for a minute, his shoulders and arms were my favourite part, muscular with one full sleeve of tattoos.

"Hey, hey, hey, no looking” he laughed and I covered my face with my hands, clearly still looking. "Cat, this is kind of nerve wrecking, please?"

"Okay, okay, okay, just saying, I don't understand why. You’re hot so” I turned away from him, this was difficult, I could have stared for decades, etching his physique into my mind like stone.

"Now schooch over," he demanded, "If you're never getting out, I'm getting in”

I moved forward in the bath and he stepped in, sitting behind me, making the water rise and splash a little over the edge.

"OK, you were right, this is pretty relaxing. Well, pretty and relaxing”

I looked back and smiled at him, he always got to me with his sneaky compliments.

"Alright now, come here" he said, I backed up little so I was sitting between his legs but not fully against him, I felt a sudden cold on my head.

"What are you...?"

He was washing my hair, I was confused but okay with it.

"Since you're determined to just sit and do nothing, we'll be here for ever, so I'll do it” He started to massage the shampoo into my hair, It was a nice feeling, I'd only had hair dressers ever do this and it wasn't like they actually got in a bath with you. It felt so intimate and caring, his hands massaging my tired head. I was close to melting down the drain with the water at that point, I was so at peace. I certainly didn't expect him to randomly blast the conditioner out with the shower head set to cold.

I screamed and turned awkwardly in his lap "You bastard!"

He was just smiling that dumb fucking smile that he always used to get away with anything. I put my knees on his legs to gain purchase and grabbed his throat lightly. I suddenly noticed he was looking down, not at my face. In my attempt to be threatening, I was giving him a full view of my breasts, nipples perky as the cold water dripped down my body. Something about the way I'd grabbed him dominantly stirred something inside me, something I didn't know was there.

"If this is how I die I'm 100% fine with it" he gleamed.

"Ah, you pervert" I teased, dropping back down into the water and turning my back to him quickly. Deflecting my own thoughts yet still sitting between his legs again, choosing to be closer this time.

"hey, I did nothing”

"Sure”

He got a loofa and started scrubbing my back gently

"This is kinda weird right?" I said thinking aloud, my brain starting to work again.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Not at all, but I mean, we've sorta just met”

"We've been friends for eight years" He said defensively.

"Online though" I reminded him. "So have you bathed Taehyung?" I was referring to one of our mutual male friends.

"No, but he's never refused to get out of a bathtub before, I guess this is a new one” he laughed, "Arm up”

I raised my arm, he glided the loofa up and down, washing it, then proceeded down the side of my body, grazing my breast and hip.

"Other one”

Same thing again, one of his hands had snaked its way to resting on my waist, I wasn't sure why it was so intensely comfortable but also so present in my mind. All the physical touch in such a gentle caring manner was turning me on a lot more then I expected.

"Do you want to do the rest? Or do you want me to?" He questioned, it had become apparent the next parts would be very intimate. I slid back against him so my back was on his chest.

"Is it weird I'm enjoying this? this is so relaxing and..." I paused, changing my thought pattern "I can do it if you don't want to?"

"Not weird at all, I just don't want to make you uncomfortable. I'm so glad you’re feeling better" he pulled my waist towards him so I was fully pressed against him for a hug. He body felt good against mine, his arms felt strong wrapped around me. The bubbles, the water, all adding an extra layer of sensation. I knew he was being kind but it was impossible to not notice that he was absolutely turned on, I could feel him so hard against my back.

"Seems like your feeling pretty good yourself" I giggled.

"Hey, I really can't help it, it doesn't have to mean anything. I just, can't..." he paused for a moment to collect his words "I cant control what my body feels with you naked. Just ignore it, I promised I wouldn't do anything but help you”

"I think I understand the feeling” I sighed quietly to myself.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing... you missed a spot" I said handing him the loofa again.

He slowly washed my shoulders and collar bone, then skipped to my waist and stomach, he started mirroring what he was doing with his hand on one side, loofa in the other and occasionally swapping. It was slow and sensual, it felt like he was exploring my body. At a leisurely pace he moved to my legs and thighs, stopping just short of anything too intimate. I knew it wasn't intentional, but it felt like teasing and it was driving me wild, I could tell how wet I was even in the water. I was aware of my pulse in my pussy as he ran his hands up my inner thighs. I could feel his cock getting even harder, I wasn't sure that was possible when I had first lied back against him.

He moved his hands up to my breasts, finally. I wiggled my ass, just a little, back into him. I was testing the waters, feeling his cock twitch against me, his breathing got heavier and faster. He slowly caressed my breasts, at first appearing to wash them but after a minute had past and his hands still lingered, I was sure he was just enjoying them.

"I don't mind at all" I said, wanting to give him some confirmation that I was enjoying the attention to detail, I leant my head back against his chest and closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation. He let the loofa go and slid his hands around, slowly squeezing and massaging my chest. Letting his fingers glide over my nipples, which were getting harder at his touch. He intermittently pinched each one, I moaned a little, not intending to, but rather unable to controll it. His hands started to take turns at exploring more of my body.

"You're really beautiful and soft, you feel amazing" he sighed in my ear.

In a lot of ways I wanted it to stop but I also couldn't seem to say no. I was so heavily conflicted between my attraction and fear of the level of intensity. I'd always been scared of Jungkook in that way, I always felt like I'd die of thirst without his attention, but I also felt like I'd drown in the emotion attached to it. He had, and probably always would be 'The one', as stupid as that sounded. He wasn't the guy I imagined fucking without strings attached, he was so much more to me. He came with the dream of the life after, the simple life; full of laughter and light. We'd spent eight years talking online everyday, never tiring, never losing interest. He even kept calling me Cat, part of my online tag, after telling him my name years later. He was always a passing ship in the night, one of us always in a relationship, the unobtainable and that felt so safe. However, right now, we were both alone, together. Everything about him felt so right, his hands on my body, his presence, the way we fit together so well, just lying on him watching TV or even now, in the bath, it just felt so much like I was a part of him and he was a part of me.

I tensed up and he felt it, he stopped touching me instantly.

"Y/n, are you ok?" He didn't say Cat, he used my actual name not the nickname he always called me.

"I just..." I turned in the water, sitting up and slipping my legs over his to face him, "Can we do this?"

"Only if you want to?" He looked at me puzzled.

"I mean, with you? can it be casual? Isn't it always going to be more?"

"Cat, it can mean whatever you want it to, or I can stop right now if you want and I'll go get dressed. You know how I've always felt about you, but also, I respect you. It can just be fun, if that's all you want at the moment. I've never been able to do this kind of thing without the connection, but I already have that with you and nothing will ruin that. All I can think in this moment is that fucking you would feel right, for once Cat, don't overthink”

I stared at him intensely. Was he just saying what I wanted to hear? Am I going to hurt him? am I going to hurt us? This is the type of thing that's going to invoke a few days worth of reckless behaviour from me and I was well aware of my patterns.

"I really want to," I admitted "my body is screaming at me to, but, I don't want to hurt you” I was watching his face intently for any sign that this could be wrong.

"I rather be hurt 1000 times than never feel you," he put his hands back on my hips starting to pull me down onto his lap. "I need to know what it feels like to be inside you, I need to watch your perfect body bounce, I need to see your face as you feel me inch by inch, I don't care about myself right now. I need to know what it feels like to make you cum”

Fuck, he knew how to talk when he wanted to. He knew what was in my head and he knew how I felt. He also knew I wasn't going to back down now. I hated that he knew me. I couldn't help myself, I managed to lie to myself in that moment, maybe it could just be fun, maybe it wouldn't have an effect on the dynamic of our friendship.

We'd talked a lot about sex with the distance keeping us safe, some nights spent exchanging fantasies, messages and videos. I knew everything about what he wanted, the magic words that would tip the scales for him, and he knew everything about how my body worked and what I might do. We both knew I was far more experienced, him only having a few sexual partners in the past worried me, but not enough to stop me. The logical part of my brain had shut down. I needed to be the dominant one here, I needed to show him. He could talk smoother then I ever could, but I could use my body.

"Cat we don't have to- " I cut him off and grabbed his throat, I enjoyed that feeling earlier, I wanted to try it again. I pulled myself to him and kissed him deeply, his hand raised to mine in shock but he relented and kissed me back. I kneeled over him and used my other hand to stroke his hard cock under the water. His hands slid across my body, I'm not sure he knew what to do with my sudden assault on his senses. I felt him moan into my kiss as I moved my hand up and down the length of his shaft, taking my time to rub slowly around his head, feeling it twitch in response. I released my grip off his neck and used my hand to move his hands to my ass which was hovering over him, he seemed to follow the motions amazingly. I continued to stroke his cock, surprised that it was larger then I expected.

I climbed further onto him sliding the head of his cock gently up and down, from my entrance to my clit, as I kept up the motion of sliding my hand up and down his shaft. He was starting to put pressure on my hips, begging to get inside me each time I slid up and down on him. The wetness of my cunt so different to the water of the bath. I teased him with each movement as I used his dick as a toy for my own stimulation, I wanted him to force me down onto it, he seemed to yield finally, grabbing my hips properly and pulling me onto him, inch by inch. I'd been turned on for the entire bath, I felt so swollen and as he forced his way in we both gasped, breaking the passionate kiss, locked into inhaling each others breath. By the time he was fully sheathed inside of me I was almost shaking, he fit so well, I wasn't going to last long at all. I kissed him again, biting his lip and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

I started riding him like my life depended on it, like every groan he made brought me closer to an edge I was ready to fall off a thousand times. I grinded harder against him, wanting to be so full I would never need to be fucked again, and it worked so well, up and down, him enjoying my bubble covered breasts as they bounced in his face. I felt the familiar build up of my orgasm coming on as I rode harder and faster. I gripped him tighter as my pussy clenched around his cock, unable to keep my mouth shut I let out a very audible moan of pleasure, I leant back enjoying the after shocks of my orgasm.

He seemed to be enjoying the expression on my face before he got a serious look, grabbing my hips harder then before and using my body. Jungkook was stronger than I expected, I wasn't doing any of the work anymore, just enjoying feeling him lift me and pull me back down onto him as the water splashed around us and his face started to tense.

I slid my hand back under water to rub my clit, if he was coming, I'd be damned if I wasn't going to come again with him. It wasn't hard for me to get close again, he was so focused, grunting and fucking me hard, I was loving the view, the way his arms and body tensed, the focus on his face, the way he threw his head back, moving me like I weighed nothing, grinding his hips up to mine.

I knew what would get him there, from every fantasy he'd sent me and I knew he'd fucking love it and hate it.

"You have to pull out, I'm not on birth control” I teased at him, he agreed and started going harder then before, I could feel him twitching inside me, I knew I was going to cum when he did. I wrapped my arms around him and started fucking him back again, our hips meeting. He was starting to shake, he stopped suddenly.

"I'm going to cum, I have to stop" He gasped, I knew what we both wanted to hear. I grabbed his throat again and held onto his back as tight as I could, continuing to grind against him as deeply as I could.

"Don't you fucking dare, I'm not letting go, you're going to fill me or we'll never do this again”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up with a touch of fear and excitement as he gave in, finally thrusting back knowing that I needed his seed, it only took a moment and I felt him explode inside me, shooting layer after layer of warm cum into me. My body fucking loved it, exploding into an orgasm that just kept clenching for what felt like minutes around his cock as it pulsed.

I let my grip loosen as I let my head fall against his, having an exhausted giggle, he smiled and laughed with me, wrapping his arms around my body and occasionally thrusting to see my face as we recovered our breath.

"You can't do that or I'm going to need to cum again" I breathed, trying to lift myself off him, he held me down.

"Do it” he whispered with an evil grin, I started to grind on him softly, it wasn't going to take much. He leant me back and watched me, finally using his fingers to rub my clit, as my breasts bounced freely and he met each of my thrusts again, he was watching me so intimately but I couldn't keep my eyes open. It was happening again, I gasped and held his arms tightly as I shuddered with another orgasm. He seemed so pleased with himself, kissing me again softy down my neck.

"You're mine," he whispered, moving my hair from my face.

That surprised me, but more in a way that I enjoyed. We both got out of the bath and wrapped ourselves in towels.

The bathroom was completely flooded, I giggled and bent to pick up my wet clothes. I felt his hand lift my towel at the back as I did, still bent over I looked back at him confused.

"Just admiring my work" he smiled that damn smile again, it always amazed me how confident men got after you fulfilled a fantasy. I moved into a presenting pose and let him enjoy the view of his cum dripping from my pussy for a moment, he slicked his finger up and down my slit.

"hey, no touching unless your prepared to finish the job again”

He kept going, sliding his fingers back and forth over my clit before sliding his fingers inside of me, pushing his dripping cum back in. This man was determined to make sure I couldn't think for a week.

But that's when we heard a knock at the door.

─────────. ♡ .───────────

a/n: I doubt I’m going to make a pt 2… :)

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

#きたない 📍 #゜✧*̣̩☽⋆゜𝒃𝒕𝒔 成人向け #jeon jungkook smut #bts jeongguk #bts jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkoooook #jeongguk #jeon jungguk #bts jeongkook #bts jeon jungkook #bts jeon jungguk #bts jungguk #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jeongkook #bts #bts x reader #bts smut #bts jung jungkook #bangtan smut #bangtan jk #bangtan

[eldritch-spouse]

HI AGAIN. Ever since I found your blog and also sent a totally normal ramble abt cannibalism I've been just. Gently tossing your guys back and forth in my head. You're a wonderful writer and I'm always excited to see you on my dash!!

Gonna throw my hat in as asking an actual question- How would your guys fare if their obsession had a particularly weird or morbid interest? I get the vibes that some of them would most certainly encourage it but I also feel like Vinnel would hit me with a hammer if I panic infodumped about ebola-

[Hellow, glad to see you again! Also, I know you probably just forgot, but "your guys" encompasses way too many characters to talk about at once, so I'll assume you were going for TCE staff.]

Morell especially likes hearing about your cannibalism infodumps. They're actually useful to him, since he's going to be living with you, and he needs to know what he can and can't feed you, as well as a possible child between you. It's actually interesting stuff, he'd like it if you talked about it to his family too, you're a smart piggy. Any other topics are usually met with less enthusiasm (unless kitchen/food related), and he'll ask you to quit it if you start talking too much about mushrooms. Overall, it's nice background noise to work to.

Patches is all about infodumping. In fact, you're subjected to it often too, even if he doesn't always stop to explain basic concepts you'd need to understand his rambling. He'll give you a recorder he has, so he can keep the sound of that boundless enthusiasm in your voice forever. He's much more participative than the others, asking various questions and tossing random scenarios at you that'll prompt you to learn even more. There's a potential he'll get distracted and stop working to just research this with you the whole day.

Gallon loves a weirdo -No offense- Feel free to dump all that morbidity on him, he soaks it up like a sponge (so does Martin, be careful). Although he prefers to let you speak unhindered, only egging you on when it seems you're getting passionately angry about things, there's a chance Gallon may begin his own little tidbit sharing regarding a variety of poisons and toxins. He's selective with what he lets slip, but figures it could interest you.

Santi likes listening to you. Doesn't matter what it's about. There's only one thing he doesn't want you to morbidly talk to him about, anything featuring kids. Other than that, you think a rant about the intricacies of cannibalism's effects will kill his mood? Hah, nice try. He usually doesn't have anything smart to say, but may actually pitch in with some first hand details if you mention something sexual and morbid.

Let's face it, this is going in one of Grimbly's eardrums and out the other. Unless, you can talk like you're in a true crime podcast, then he's all ears. Grimbly typically responds to these interests by bragging to others about how his Mommy's "so smart" and "cultured" and he learns so much with you! You should start a YouTube channel!

Nebul likes to hear what you think is morbid. He'll let you ramble when you've been good enough to earn his attention, or if it allows you to keep obeying him. He has his own morbidities to share with you, as a wraith who has seen the darkest parts of many a mind. Surely, you of all people would be fascinated to know how the brain reacts to very invasive types of trauma only some monsters can inflict...

Vinnel will use this to his advantage during shows. You're placed in dangerous games where the whole goal is for you to explain said morbid concepts to the audience while Vinnel or Jingles try to destabilize you so you'll fall into painful contraptions or get cut/bruised/undressed. Sometimes Vinnel pays attention to your infodumps, other times he openly doesn't, it's a coin toss.

Belo sincerely discourages you from seeking such dark information in your brain. A lesser's mind is like a canvas, and it shouldn't be furnished with such desolate knowledge... If your morbid interests somehow can shine a glimmer of positivity or utility, the angel will be a little more inclined to letting you keep pursuing these topics. Otherwise, Belo actively attempts to distract you.

Sybastian doesn't understand about 80% of what you're about to tell him, but he has all the time in the world to sit and listen to his favorite person spit words. He's not verbally communicative during these episodes, but he may clap depending on how impressive the information is, and he remembers things you say enough to sometimes present you with paraphernalia vaguely related to the topics of your morbid interests.

Fank-e is a good bet because he can add onto your information in real time, or correct small detail you may get them wrong. He's generally happy to give you links to more information sources and try to match your level of knowledge, uncaring of how dark the subject theme may be.

If there's one thing you can infodump to Krulu about, it would be diseases. Plagues and ailments of several types are his specialty, the chances of him imparting bits of knowledge you absolutely should not possess on this matter are high. Another thing you may infodump to him about is corvids. It gets him in very favorable moods, surprisingly.

#Morell oc #Gallon oc #Belo oc #Patches oc #Nebul oc #Sybastian oc #Vinnel oc #Santi oc #Grimbly oc #Fank-e oc #Krulu oc #hi-im-lugh

[moodywyrm]

need abby to play with my nipples until i cum from that alone.

who said that......

-🧩

babe. I've been staring at this for hours now. our brains? linked. synched. need to give u a forehead kiss for this one. u have nip piercings in this one, if u don't just imagine pls <3

Abby, titty lover that she is, is obsessed with your nipples. Remember the thing I wrote about her finding out you have nipple piercings? Yeah. Every time you have sex, it ends with your tits covered in hickies, spit, deliciously sore from her fingers and mouth working at you. but one thing she didn't know? Under the right conditions, you could cum from nipple stimulation alone. She only finds out when Manny is telling her about his latest hook up and the girl came from him playing with her titties.

"Abby, you don't understand, it was insane. I hadn't even really touched her down there yet, and she finished? I mean it was hot but damn," He huffed, not actually upset. Abby, however, feels like her whole world has been expanded. Later, when she heads back home, she is on a fucking mission (pun intended).

She finds you on the couch, wearing one of her muscle tees and a pair of her boxers. You're about to ask how her day was when she's kneeling in front of you, hands smoothing up your thighs, and up, and up, until she's groping at your tits and rolling the pretty pierced buds between her fingers. At the same time, her mouth is on yours, kissing you so intensely you wonder what got her so riled up.

"What - mmm - any reason? Or just - mm - just excited?" And you can barely get the words about because Abby can't stop kissing you. She reluctantly pulls away to explain, wanting you to know what she's trying to do.

"Manny told me about this thing. That can happen."

"What thing?" She's breathing so heavy you're kinda concerned, but you trust her and her unbearably horny mind.

"Can I make you cum by playing with your tits?" And the words rush out so fast, they barely register. When they do, you're nodding so hard she laughs, pulling your shirt off and moaning at the sight. She's diving in, mouth laving at one nipple, licking it, biting it, pulling it into her mouth and toying with the jewelry.

As she's toying with you, she's whispering praises, trying to get you mentally worked up and aroused with touching your cunt, even though she can feel the heat of it against her tummy from where she's kneeling between your legs and she wants to fuck you open so bad.

"You're so fucking pretty baby, prettiest tits in the world. Could spend forever playing with 'em, you'd like that huh? Love wearing my shirts so they slip out the sides? Always fucking pretty, sweetheart," and she's fucking got you. You're whining, clawing at her back and stroking her flushed cheeks, holding her against your chest. You weren't sure she could actually make you cum from playing with your nipples, but goddamn if Abigail Anderson isn't ridiculously good at everything she does.

She's switching between your nipples, moaning at the way you whine when the spit slicked buds make contact with air, cold and sensitive when her fingers play with them. You don't know how long it's been since she started, because honestly you don't have a stable concept of time right now, but you can feel yourself getting closer and closer, almost dropping back into the couch were it not for one of Abby's ridiculously strong arms wrapped around your back, pinning you to her mouth. She leans in harder, feeling the heat against her tummy get warmer and warmer, her body pushing your legs wider and that fucking does it.

The feel of her, so strong and broad and intense, pulling at every nerve in your body while only playing with your tits pushes you over, arching your back and pushing your tits farther into her mouth, wailing as your thighs shake and clench around her waist, pussy leaking into her boxers. Abby can feel the wet spot growing, pressing against her, and she's groaning as she pulls away from your chest to meet your lips.

"Fucking hell, perfect girl, my perfect girl. So good for me, sweetheart," smiling at the way you cling to her, hauling her up onto the couch so you can return the favor.

Your hands, still shaky, making quick work of her belt and dragging her pants and boxers down her legs, diving in to thank your girl <3

who said that.

#🧩 anon #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader smut

[uncleclam]

Ken x gn!reader / he wants to marry you so bad

Word count: 728

Rating: sfw

This stupid doll…

CAN'T STOP PROPOSING

Whatever is going on in his tiny little plastic brain, you never expect THIS to happen. He must have been watching way too much Netflix, you know cause when you check the watch history, he basically clicked all romance drama possible, ALL. This is concerning, a drop of sweat formed on your forehead as you see he also watched all princess movies on Disney plus, too. Is this why he keeps bringing that up? That he believed in ‘happily ever after’? Because that sounds like something ‘the Mattel dictionary’ totally would have.

It wasn’t you’re not ready, well, a part of you is definitely not ready, or something anti-marriage of you, because you have definitely thought about it, dreamed of it even, but the reality of having a lifelong commitment is something chased you away—-

Not in a bad way, but definitely not in KEN’s way.

Ken is your cute, clumsy, curious, sometimes annoying roommate. He is still learning about the real world, everything is new to him and he’s so eager to try all of them. You tried to provide the best for him, he’s your favorite doll after all, he has been there with you since you can remember(In a toy form, naked)! You treat him almost like a pet now, you love him of course! Just not in that way…

I want to live with you forever! I want to be your forever partner!

His voice echoes in your brain, it was so innocent and charming actually, his big blue eyes were like shining diamonds, begging you the same way he begged for an ice-cream, you almost said yes out of instinct. Time felt frozen to you, your eyes widened, lungs stopped working. Ken blinked and waited for your response.

‘What did you just say, Ken?’ You asked, wanting to reconfirm.

‘I want to marry you!’

‘Uhh…’ You paused, looking away slightly.

‘Can i?’ He sounded so enthusiastic, like always.

‘I'm afraid we cannot…’ You finally gathered the sentence and spoke it out, sighed, and petted Ken’s hand that had been on your shoulder.

‘Is it something expensive again? Like a double decker bus or a horse?’ Ken tilted his head, he was genuinely asking. He had asked you so many prices on different stuff, especially the stuff he wanted.

‘Not exactly, but-‘ you shuttered.

‘Then why can’t we get married?’ He asked again.

‘Because it needs promises, and promises are not easy.’ You explained, felt like describing the concept of algebra to a toddler. Ken actually paused and started thinking for a while.

———

For the first few days, he seemed upset and confused after you rejected him. The concept of marriage he googled is simply not that easy, you tried to explain to him but he didn’t say anything. You heard him sobbing on the sofa that night. After a week, he’s back to normal classic Ken again, but whenever he opens his mouth, it’s about marrying you.

‘What do you want for lunch?’

‘A wedding dress on you!’

Or

‘Ken, will you pass me the sugar?’

‘I, Ken, take you to be my forever lover, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.’

A dramatic pause

‘I do.’ He vowed as he passed the sugar.

———

This has been 3 weeks now, about the marrying you thing, and he has no signs of giving that up. You wished you were a barbie so you wouldn’t have to care so much—- He even bought two of those Ring Pop where you can suck the candy while it stays on your finger. The candy itself is comically big. A red, cherry flavored for you, and a green, lime flavored for himself. He jogged his way to you, gently held your right hand up and pushed the ring down to the base of your third finger.

‘This doesn’t mean we are officially married—‘

‘I know.’ He looked up and smiled, putting on his own ring and licked on the sweetened crystal. Then He jogged away to look at other stuff while humming the wedding theme song.

He hasn’t taken off the finished plastic ring ever since, and so do you too.

#ryan gosling #ken #fanfiction #fanfic #ken x reader #sfw

[pinchinschlimbah]

On "Coming Out" and Noel Fielding

I mentioned forever ago that I had this post in mind and then never got around to it, but now with the new interview quote I was yelling about recently it feels like a particularly good time to get it out of my brain and onto the page! tl;dr: musings on the concept of "coming out" as it has evolved over time, whether it's something that should continue to be necessary or expected of queer people, and why Noel is particularly inspirational to me in that regard since this is, after all, my brainrot blog. This may be extremely long and a bit disjointed but I hope some of y'all will enjoy it!

So a while ago myself and several friends were discussing the concept of coming out. All of us are some flavor of queer both in gender and orientation, but each is in a different place along their self discovery and identity journey, with some being long since out and proud, and others just starting to dip their toes into exploration past the expected cishet.

This discussion actually was prompted by a different discussion about Noel, spurred by comments we'd come across slamming him as being homophobic/transphobic on Bakeoff for making comments suggesting he has romantic or sexual attraction towards Paul, referring to himself with female-centric terms, playing female characters in the skits, and a particular moment where he brings up Old Gregg while talking to KimJoy and says "he was a sea transsexual....quite a demanding role for me" while laughing to indicate that that last part was said in jest. Hey fellas, is it homophobic/transphobic to be a little bit gay and trans? This got us talking about how the current culture of queer identity has evolved to the point where "coming out" feels more like something the public feels they're owed in order for them to view one's expression as valid, rather than its original purpose as something one does for themself in order to live most authentically. I don't think I need to go into detail about how many artists have been harassed by their "fans" into coming out before they were ready because people wouldn't accept the validity of that person's work without knowing exactly how that person identified, there've been plenty of articles and video essays and better written tumblr posts about that, but it's definitely a concerning trend. It can be particularly dangerous when it comes to people who aren't feeling confident or safe enough to come out, who end up being criticized and shunned by the queer community as being somehow problematic for not being able to fully articulate to a group of strangers the ways in which they're experiencing their identity. In this situation, the people who are struggling the most end up with the least support. Forcing people to either declare an identity or get out just leads to more people staying closeted out of fear of doing it "wrong" and never getting the chance to explore the most authentic and joyful versions of themselves, or even worse, feeling the need to out themselves before they're in a safe place to do so and suffering the resulting consequences. Questioning or cautious people deserve space in the community to experiment even if they haven't yet or maybe never will come out! My high school's Gay Straight Alliance was comprised entirely of "straight allies" when I was there. There was not a single "out" person in the school at the time. Nearly all of us in the GSA ended up being some flavor of queer or trans years later after graduation. But whether it was intentional closeting or just feeling an innate affinity towards something we couldn't quite pinpoint at the time, we all knew we belonged there and made that space for ourselves and others like us. Back when "coming out" first became a concept in the public consciousness, it was during a time where cishet identity was not just considered the default, but the only option. By coming out, queer people were giving genuinely revolutionary representation for themselves and others like them by telling the world that, as the old saying goes, we're here, we're queer, get used to it! Nowadays, we're lucky to live in a culture that is much more cognizant of queer identities being a thing, so in many cases coming out has become less about having to explain to those around you the basic concept of queerness existing, and moreso about which specific identity you fall under, and that's where things get messy.

My friends and I shared our own thoughts and experiences. One is currently identifying as "unlabeled" because they haven't found a term that feels correct yet, and therefore hasn't come out because they wouldn't know what to say. One spoke about how when they first came out they were much more insistent on what terms or pronouns people used for them but as time has gone on they've grown to find joy in being inscrutable and letting others wonder what they're perceiving. One expressed that given the state of the world they've been retreating somewhat back into the closet for safety reasons rather than being super outward with their queerness like they used to and is working on learning to embrace those parts of themself again. One said they felt like they'd already been existing as queer and expressing that queerness "before I even had the terms to come out to myself" and is now working on catching up on the conscious end of figuring out what's what. I myself never really had an official "coming out", I just became increasingly visually/socially/vocally queer as I became more and more confident in who I was and what I wanted to be and who I had on some level always been, and decided if people didn't get the hint that's their own problem. I came into consciousness of my queerness during the early 2010s original tumblr MOGAI microlabel boom, where there was a ton of focus on figuring out the hyper specific identity labels that exactly described what you were experiencing. I did a lot of digging and soul searching and experienced a lot of unnecessary stress trying and failing to find my perfect labels and landed on clumsy terms like "full time drag queen" because it was the closest I could get to what I was feeling about my gender, only to be told it was problematic for me to call myself that as an AFAB person because drag "belongs to cis gay men" (don't get me started on that statement, that's a whole other essay lol) It was a real wake up call once I distanced from these aggressively labeled and segmented online spaces and made my way into real world queer communities where I was relieved to find that in fact no one there asks to check your membership card before letting you in, if you feel like you belong there you're welcome no questions asked.

I had other people in these communities referring to me as "queer" and "fag" and "gay" and "queen" before I felt comfortable doing so myself based on online Discourse I'd experienced over who is Allowed to use certain terms, and having these community leaders I respected recognizing those things in me and welcoming me in like that gave me the confidence to really find my own footing in ways that attempting to find my exact correct identity label so that I could officially proclaim it never did. Once I could answer the question of what I was with a shrug and "queer I guess!" things became so much easier. Microlabels can be incredibly helpful and liberating for some, don't get me wrong if it works for you that's great, but let's not pretend that everyone is going to have the same experiences.

So anyway, back to Noel. Noel has never, to my knowledge, ever had any sort of official “coming out” or explicitly referred to himself as queer. So I know there are people out there who will disagree with me considering him to be queer. But so much of what he’s said and done throughout his several decades long career has indicated to me that this is clearly someone of queer experience navigating the world as such, and just as the queers in my local community welcomed me as one of them before I knew to do it myself, I extend that welcome forward. 

Let’s take a look at some of the facts. In the public span of his career, Noel has.....(in no particular order, also if anyone wants to add additional instances of note in the reblogs or comments please feel free, this is by no means a fully comprehensive list) -repeatedly called himself "the woman of the Boosh" or Julian's/Howard's "wife" in ways that suggest that's how he actually felt about it rather than it just being a punchline that he was mistaken for female in the show [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] -referred to himself at the GQ "Man of the Year" awards as "never been a man" and "a sort of girl, he/she" -been referred to by Sandi Toksvig as being "on the cusp" in regards to gender, to which he reacts with amusement and acceptance -consistently expressed excitement and appreciation when others refer to him with feminine terms or say he looks like a girl [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] -said "I love being a man-woman, it's much more interesting than being one or the other" and expressed that the loved shooting the Boosh Electro episode for this reason -referred to Vince Noir (a character who he's been pretty open about being based on himself) as "wasn't seemingly one gender or the other" -expressed that he felt most free and happy when presenting femininely [2] -had Julian, one of the people closest to him, express that Noel and Sandi (an out lesbian) may have "real sexual chemistry" because Noel is "all over the shop, he's a different sex" -used the "Confuser" line of "Is it a boy? Is it a girl? I'm not sure I mind" to refer to himself rather than Vince, and express that he's had to work to find new ways to feel as androgynous as he'd like now that he's older -referred to himself as a lesbian [2] -said that he "sometimes looks in the mirror and sees a woman", in the same interview that Julian implies that Noel is in fact a girl -referred to himself as a "girl/boy" -consistently referred to himself with feminine terms on panel shows and bakeoff -made a joke on bakeoff about not being a testosterone-based person -responded positively when asked about the ways Boosh had influenced queer and nonbinary youth -has said he's "quite obsessed with the man/woman mixup thing" -has said if he was an animal he'd want to be a seahorse because the males get pregnant -Had Lee Mack, who Noel used to live with, refer to him as "the little transsexual one, yeah I think she's fantastic" in a Boosh documentary and "a young lady who came out here happy to be herself" in response to Noel's Wuthering Heights drag performance -had his own mother refer to him as "the daughter I always wanted" -described his own appearance as that of a "transsexual witch" and when an interviewer attempted to make fun of him for calling himself "a transgender witch" by showing Noel a drawing the interviewer clearly found repulsive, Noel responded that the interviewer was "holding up a mirror" and called the image his passport photo

And I'm not even going to bother citing sources on the countless times he's made comments suggesting romantic or sexual attraction towards men. Literally just watch any non-character appearance he's ever done, it's kind of his whole thing??? Not to mention his penchant for picking up explicitly queer and gnc character roles, and also just [gestures vaguely to everything Noel and Julian have said about each other suggesting romantic and sexual tension between them and how they used their characters as an excuse to explore those feelings in a less scary way, again that could be a whole other essay on its own but ooh boy] I also think there's something interesting to explore in the idea of Noel repeatedly referring to his appearance as transgender or transsexual rather than identifying himself as such- at what point does the appearance of something become reality?

It all begs the question- is it even a joke anymore if it's that consistent? Either it's not a joke and it's an authentic expression of his real feelings and experiences, or he for some reason really really wants everyone to believe that he's queer when he's not, with this behavior spanning back to a time before the concept of queerbaiting was on anyone's minds and when being publicly queer could mean the end of your career. Which scenario do you think is more likely? And, does someone who’s been conducting themself like this for their entire career really NEED to come out? Honestly, I find this level of simultaneous authenticity and inscrutability aspirational.

In this Velvet Onion interview from 2012, Noel compares his penchant for dresses to both Grayson Perry and Eddie Izzard. This is interesting because those two people represent pretty opposite intentions behind their presentation- Grayson identifies solidly as cis male, and for him the shock value of crossdressing is the point, saying “I signed up for a gender and I want them to be very clearly delineated so I know I’m dressing up in the wrong clothes.” This doesn't seem particularly in line with where Noel is coming from given him famously referring to himself as "the Confuser" and stating in that same Velvet Onion interview that he "never even bothered giving it a label, I never went oh I'm a transvestite, I just went yeah if I fancy wearing a dress I do, never really thought about it really" Eddie on the other hand has famously said "They're not women's clothes. They're my clothes, I bought them." indicating that they were a genuine part of her authentic expression rather than a crossdressing costume, and has subsequently over the years identified more and more solidly as transfemme. I find Eddie's trajectory particularly fascinating because it's been so non-linear. In the 90s when the language for transness was much less public knowledge, she referred to herself consistently as a transvestite- a cishet man who enjoyed dressing as a woman, as well as using terms like "male tomboy" and "male lesbian" and "a full boy plus extra girl". Despite doing most of her standup shows in femme looks, most of her acting jobs were male-presenting, and there was a period of time in the 2010s where she dropped the femme presentation entirely in an attempt to be taken more seriously as the "crossdressing" was seen by many as a gimmick. Swinging back around more recently, Eddie has been explicitly identifying as genderfluid and transfemme, and in recent years has made the decision to "be based in girl mode from now on", and use primarily she/her pronouns. Since this announcement, in her trans advocacy work Eddie has described herself as being "out" as trans since the 1980s despite all of the above. She always knew who she was, it's just she's gotten access to more accurate terms over time to describe what she was experiencing, as well as feeling more safe to do so the more that transness became a known and accepted concept in the public eye.

The interview I mentioned at the very start of this post isn't really a coming out from Noel. And I don't think we'll ever really get one from him. In my opinion Noel has spent the past several decades conducting himself as someone who is in fact already out- it’s pretty clear Noel knows and is proud of who he is regardless of how he chooses to describe that identity. At this point, making some sort of official statement would just be for the benefit of others looking for clarification on their own perception of him and people who want to be able to put him in one box or another, and that’s not what coming out should be. The statement in the new interview is not "I am genderfluid", its "I've always been genderfluid", simply putting an accurate name to what's always been publicly visibly true now that he's got the terms to do so.

#noel fielding #gender files #gender files masterpost #gay yelling #the mighty boosh #shouts into void #a lot of this could also apply to my other wife #but that discussion is way more of a minefield so I'm not touching that for now plus many more people already have

[acutecoral]

I have no brain for prose at the moment, because I don't think I've watched enough Cellbit to really get his mannerisms right but just a concept in my head at the moment like

Cellbit has had the urge to relapse back to what felt natural, to resort of violence, to killing. Now not in service of himself, but for the people he cares about.

His hold over those urges was admirable, but it was always bound to snap.

It started with Felps. His friend. Lost to the Federation's grasp. I'd imagine ignoring the urge was...easy then, at least with the initial idea. He had a plan, he directed his focus to infiltrating, to misleading and convincing Cucurucho that he could be trusted. It was hard. Here on the island, he had found a family, friends, people he knew and grown to care about. To push them away, and mislead them must have felt awful. Back in the war, things weren't as complicated but he wanted to do something different. He can be different.

I imagine when it failed, when he was taken back and captured, maybe there was that voice at the back of his mind. "This would have been easier if..."

But it was a constant companion for many years, and he's had practice pushing it down and refocusing his energy to other things.

Like his family, his son, the Eggs, his friends, the Order, Roier, their wedding, the campaign for the presidency. There was a lot to do, so much that needed his attention it would have been easy to just focus on the next thing and pretend that those darker thoughts wasn't there.

Then the Eggs disappeared. His son was gone, the other Eggs were gone, and no one knew what had happened. Everyone was searching for answers and they barely had the pieces to put things together. But the Federation must have been behind it, they took the Eggs last time, it was the only answer.

Then Forever was forced to take the risus potion, forced to become a twisted parody of himself that Cellbit couldn't get through to. Forced to pretend everything was okay.

And Pac...Pac whom Cellbit had seen sink to despair since Mike was lost and now pushed even further now that Richas was missing. Pac was still determined, still so willing to sacrifice himself for the smallest chance to figure out what was affecting their friend, their family and find a way to cure him.

How Cellbit must have felt the strongest urge to tear the entire Federation down to the ground, when he found himself between Forever and Pac on that bench. How difficult that must have been to ignore and push past, because he couldn't indulge in it. He had to hold strong, he had to bring them back to reality, to come back to him.

But seeing Pac whimpering, huddled and trapped and so small, so afraid in that cage...then listening to Forever's screams, directed at the memory of Cucurucho in Cellbit's place, a play by play of what led him to be drugged in the first place, how those darker urges must have reared it's head up. Did Cellbit wish he did what Forever did? Even knowing where it led? That urge to let loose, to direct his anger at something, at someone who must have knew all the answers, who were obviously playing them for fools again, who was hurting his family so deeply once more, forcing those he cared about to this state.

It must have led to sleepless nights. Frustration and anger. He must have been so tired.

An exhaustion that everyone on the island felt, but especially...Roier. His huband.

Cellbit would have never forgotten the way the Federation played with Roier and Jaiden's hopes with Bobby's life. Dashing them when they were only granted 10 minutes with their child instead of giving him back.

And now the Eggs have been ripped away again. Roier's sister was taken. Roier's son in law was gone, and for someone that already lost someone he felt responsible for, Cellbit must have seen the heavy toll it took on Roier. The dark eye bags, the way he tries to busy himself, the way that he accepted the Eggs must be dead because he can't take another heartbreak. He can't handle to have that hope they're alive dashed again. Again. Again.

Then...Bagi. That was the last straw. The one that broke the camel's back. The revelation he had a peaceful life before. He was loved, he was safe, he had a family, he had a sister...He had a past before the war, he had come from somewhere, and he was ripped away from it, those memories lost, drowned with the memory of blood and violence and survival.

Cellbit had spent so long treading water, keeping his head up, but no more. No longer. He can't afford to. He had tried playing by the bear's rules, he had tried going about it another way, but clearly it wasn't working.

It was time for a change of tactic.

...

Did killing that first worker feel like relief? Did he surprise himself with how easy it was to slip back into those old habits he had spent so long to ignore? How easy to must have been to watch, to stalk, to wait...before going for the kill?

But maybe he can tell there's a difference here now. Just a little.

These skills were ones he learned to survive. Taught by a dear, old friend. And it served him well, but now he's stepping back into the shoes of the monster, not for himself no. But for the people he loves. The people he knows have been hurt. He's doing it for them.

He will burn down the Federation even if he has to use his own body for the kindling.

#qsmp cellbit #qsmp pactw #qsmp foreverplayer #qsmp oibagi #qsmp roier #qsmp #acuteliveblogs #i have been rotating his frame of mind the entire day #it's been WILD #but it's so much fun #this isn’t really prose but i had to get these thoughts out there you know? #I'm enjoying the meal a lot #i just really like compelling characters

[honeytonedhottie]

quality of life‧₊˚✩彡🎐

this post is a collaboration with @prettieinpink my lovely mutual <3 so make sure to check out ur page for the continuation of this post and it has been a PLEASURE to work with her! go and follow her <3

HEALTH : ur health is easily the most important of these categories and ur own health must be prioritized in every thing that u do. health is wealth, and without health, ur quality of life will be very low.

eat foods that are good for u and that nourish you, pay close attention to ur body and how it reacts to certain foods cuz everyones body is different and u should have a vast knowledge on your own body and how it works. eat a variety of fruits and vegetables. a helpful ratio in eating that i like to use as a basic guideline is (80% of the time, eat healthier foods and 20% of the time eat what u crave)

stay hydrated and drink between 1-3 liters of water a day, about 15 minutes before u go to sleep drink a couple glasses of water, drinking water before bed literally CLEANSES you, it improves ur skin, helps ur heart pump blood more efficiently, and improves blood pressure and heart rate, which affects ur quality of sleep in a positive way

to continue on the note of ur sleep u should be sleeping 8-10 hours of sleep a night. sleep deprivation is NOT cute, so please opt to sleep at an earlier time and rise at an earlier time as well

aside from what u consume, take care of ur health by taking supplements, drinking lots of teas, sleeping enough, stretching ur body, dry brushing, lymphatic drainage massage etc

MENTAL WELL BEING : september is suicide prevention month so i feel like now is an AMAZING time to bring up mental health and ways that u can improve ur mental state of being.

i always talk about self concept and i always will because self concept truly is the foundation of everything. ur whole entire life is literally ur mindset. keeping a positive outlook, meditating and practicing gratitude sounds cliche but it does wonders for ur happiness.

understand that its okay to NOT feel happy 24/7 because happiness is simply a feeling, and feelings are fleeting. they dont stay forever. i talked about the science of dopamine and what it does to ur brain in a previous post but some things that u can do to improve ur happiness levels are :

cutting back on social media and screen time in order to experience the world around you

surrounding urself with people who build you up

consuming social media that impacts ur mental health in a positive way

if u can, invest in therapy and if u can't do some shadow work, and based on ur discoveries with shadow work use the resources that u have (like youtube) to learn how to heal from ur trauma properly. healing isn't an overnight process, its a journey but it will DRASTICALLY improve ur quality of life.

find ways to cope and deal with ur emotions in a healthy way if ur going through a hard time, if ur going thru a REALLY hard time please go and seek help bcuz u dont deserve to live in a constant state of sadness, and if u ever need encouragement my inbox is always open 💗

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE : ur physical appearance can greatly impact ur quality of life also so here's some way to maximize ur looks:

sleep, drink water, and walk everyday - the best way to be pretty is to be healthy so make sure ur taking care of ur nutrition and ur sleep schedule

skincare - build a solid skincare routine and be consistent with it, do ur skincare RELIGIOUSLY 2x a day and dont touch ur face with ur hands unless ur washing ur face. double cleanse and dont forget to apply spf &lt;33

haircare - learn what ur hair texture is and watch influencers or people who share the same hair texture as u and watch how they take care of their hair. once u know ur hair type then ur hair will thrive and be healthy

clean nails, long or short its all a matter of preference but keep ur nails clean and done nicely

wearing clothes that fit and complement ur body nicely, get ur clothes tailored to fit ur body comfortably

take good care of ur hair to keep it healthy, and learn how to do ur hair in cute hairstyles.

lastly POSTURE will tie all of this together, ofc these categories were rly broad but u can totally look into them more to maximize ur own looks and beauty

i know dear peachie on youtube has AMAZING makeup tips especially if ur a beginner she can teach u a lot

GENERAL : this is just a broad category of helpful things that u can do to improve the quality of ur life.

manifestation : when u learn about the way that the world works and operates and how ur mind creates ur own reality u will literally step into the power of knowing that you create. start committing to ur dream life and learning about law of assumption

finding little things to be happy about : i feel my happiest when im consciously living. and what i mean about this most of us just live our lives on autopilot out of necessity or habit, but paying closer attention to our lives and our experiences and romanticizing our lives will improve the quality of ur life

decision making : make decisions that will give the quality of life that u wanna live. for the future, make decisions that are good for ur future self instead of just focusing on making decisions that only look good in that one moment. ofc this differs depending on the situation but make an effort to make smart decisions that'll set the foundation for ur future

go check out @prettieinpink for the next part of this post <;3

#law of assumption #self care #self concept #it girl #becoming that girl #manifesting #self love #loa tumblr #that girl #neville goddard #it girl energy #dream girl #lifestyle #self improvement

[flowercrowngods]

Prompt that has been eating my brain: Eddie finishes his book, and he hasn't shown it to anybody. Steve knows about it, but he doesn't really know much about it at all. And of course, dedications and acknowledgements. Eddie has been wandering around the apartment grumbling to himself for the best part of two weeks trying to figure them out. What if they fall apart the week after the book comes out? What if they end up hating each other? What if every time he goes to sign his name he's reminded of the boy he lost? I need your thoughts because you have better thoughts on this than me.

you have better thoughts on this than me what the fuck dude 😭 i mean i do have thoughts. i hope they get the bats out of your brain

“Eddie,” Steve’s voice gently breaks through the eerie silence that has oh so mockingly settled in the room. It’s silent because Eddie is staring at the screen, unmoving and petrified. He’s been staring at the word Acknowledgements for so long it has long since stopped looking like a real word, the concept disintegrating while its meaning is only gaining weight, cutting off his throat at the worst of times and making him frown in frustration at the best of times.

The book is finished. It’s done. How come he’s only hitting the hardest part now? It’s fucking laughable.

“Babe,” Steve says again, and this time there’s a warm body at his back, leaning into him until arms wrap around his shoulders and Steve’s cheek comes to rest on the crown of Eddie’s head. “Come to bed,” he whispers, and Eddie leans back briefly, soaking up Steve’s warmth.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he murmurs.

“Liar.” Steve huffs against him and then shifts to press a kiss to Eddie’s hair before moving back to his original position. He must be looking at the screen, and Eddie wants to reach out and hide it, close the windows, shut it all down. “I thought you were done?”

“I am,” Eddie says and sighs.

“But?”

“But I’m being stupid about it.”

Steve makes an unhappy noise and wraps his arms tighter around Eddie. “Wanna talk about it?”

Does he? He doesn’t, it’s stupid, it’s literally not a big deal. He’s just all up in his own head about acknowledgments, because that’s like breaking a wall. Writing a book can be all about the characters, about the setting, about the message or the journey or whatever.

But when you open a book and on the first page it says, For Anna, then that makes it a real thing that happened in this world. It’s not isolated anymore. And when you finish the book and are about to close it, but then it says, I’d like to thank a whole bunch of people without whom this would not have been possible, then that’s sort of the most mortifying thing Eddie has ever had to confront.

Because what if he thanks Dustin but then something happens and they stop being important to each other? His name will forever be in this book, immortalised as long as people know to read these letters and words. What if he dedicates this book to Steve and then they fall apart? Eddie doesn’t want to build the immortality of art on the fragile pillars that are his heart and soul.

But he can’t tell Steve that. Because Steve would look at him, cup his cheeks and tell him not to acknowledge him like that, then. Easy as that, Eddie, now come to sleep.

But it’s not easy as that.

“That depends,” he says at last. “Are you feeling particularly philosophically inclined tonight?”

“Hmm? How’d you mean?” Steve sounds sleepy and wonderful, and Eddie wants to wrap himself up in it. Wants to write a thousand more books and dedicate them all to Steve, because even if it doesn’t last, it exist right now. Their love is worth to be immortalised for what it is.

Okay, maybe he does want to talk about this pretty badly.

“Let’s get ready for bed and then will you let me ramble at you until we fall asleep?”

“Hmm, deal,” Steve says, smile evident in his voice, and he presses another kiss to Eddie’s hair before they head into the bathroom to get ready for bed together.

When Steve pulls the covers over them and cuddles into Eddie’s side, they spend a few minutes just basking in each other before Steve pulls back to look at Eddie.

“Okay, what’s got you so up in your head, hm?”

Eddie explains. And Steve listens. And he doesn’t take Eddie’s face in his hands to tell him not to worry about mentioning him. Eddie is glad he doesn’t.

“There’s enough of everyone I know in these characters already, but still somehow this is different. What if you’ll hate me some day? What if we don’t make it? I don’t… I don’t want to immortalise something that will cause me pain. But I don’t want to run from it either, because no future version of either you or me could change what we have right now, right this second. You will always have been lying next to me just now. Nothing can change that. So it’s really not a big deal, but…”

“But it sort of is,” Steve finishes for him, and Eddie sags into the mattress a little because Steve understands.

If not everything, then the part that matters.

But Steve isn’t done yet, and he has tis thinking face on, the rare one that allows Eddie to lie back and listen as his Stevie will be the one with the rambles tonight.

“I get why you would obsess over that, but I think you might know the answer already, too. And maybe you’re running from that? Because no matter how hard you try, you can only ever immortalise the present. Or the past. But you can’t do that with the future. So what you have to do is to hope and to trust and to try.”

He intertwines their fingers and Eddie pulls him close, nudging Steve to lay his head on his chest the way he loves to do even as he continues talking the thoughts right out of Eddie’s head.

“I mean, obviously I can’t promise you that we will last forever. I wish I could, but time and life are just too tricky to be recklessly challenged by such promises. But I can promise you that no one will leave you because you loved them hard enough to put it in black ink on a paper in the back of your first ever book, Eddie. I know it’s terrifying to communicate to the world that you care about people and to hope that they care right back, but in the end that’s what… That’s what got you to write a book, isn’t it? You talk, very dramatically at times by the way, about the relationship between art and love and life. Obviously, writing the book is art, influenced by life and love. There is no shame in framing your art in a little bit of life and a little bit of love. With the dedication and the acknowledgements. Because you’re you. And you’re loved and you love. No future will change that. Maybe the people will vary, but what you immortalise aren’t necessarily the people themselves. You immortalise for yourself a reminder that good things exist in your life.

And when they leave? They’ll be replaced. And maybe you’ll have a collection of acknowledgements one day. Of all things good. All things life and love and family. And, I don’t know, but I don’t think that’s too bad. Mortifying, sure. It makes you vulnerable, definitely. But most good things do when they’re worth being acknowledged.”

It still baffles him an unfair amount, time and time again, how existential Steve can be sometimes. How much he listens to Eddie to use his exact terms, how much he understands from the barely intelligible mutterings and ramblings that Eddie loses himself in almost immediately, getting all wrapped up in the golden thread until there’s no unwinding anymore and he has to give up.

Buts it’s fine if he gets it all twisted because Steve will be there, right there by his side, and carefully disentangle Eddie’s limbs with a confused little frown because to him it all makes sense somehow, and he doesn’t really understand how Eddie got here.

So when Steve says all of this, Eddie feels gutted. He feels seen. He feels a bit stupid for worrying so much. The weight on his chest is lifted and the obsessive worrying that has made his head all fuzzy is retreating.

Can it be so easy? Can it just be a collection of who he is, whom he loves and who cares for him enough to let themselves be immortalised by a shapely blotch of ink? Can it be okay in the end? Can it be that sixty years down the line, Eddie looks through all his books and reads the dedications and acknowledgements, and think kindly of everyone?

The image makes him long for that kind of peacefulness. A serenity, a love, a lifetime acknowledged.

“No, that’s not so bad at all.”

Eddie’s eyes begin to sting for some reason and he wraps his arms tighter around Steve. A silence settles between them that tastes a lot like freedom.

“Hey, Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

Eddie swallows and smiles into the darkness of their room. “I think I’ll dedicate my first book to Wayne.”

A happy hum reverberates through Eddie’s chest, and Steve, half asleep by now, says, “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

“Thank you, Stevie.” For being the smartest person I know. For loving me. For acknowledging.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #this is not exactly 4am floaty fic but i do intend to get a couple more hours of sleep tonight so you’ll excuse me i hope #okay it’s a written between midnight and 1am floaty fic. is it even floaty? just steve being existential smart #dio words #at this point i’m writing all these weird little fics for your eyes only and you might be the only one who reads them but that’s fine 🤍 #we’re both lucky i didn’t include the ‘almost acknowledged’. wasn’t ready to spiral again lmao i should sleep

[kit-and-wolfe]

Battle of the Bands

Hobie, Miguel, Gabriel, Gwen and 1st person pov OC / MC

New Adult magical realism AU (obvi) brain worm that has grown from a 2-shot screenplay for some fun comics into a monster. This fic is like Tremors in my brain.

The summer before college MC, Gabriel O'Hara, and Miguel O'Hara go on an international road trip with their metal band, Neon Requiem. Destination? BandFest, the Battle of the Bands in London guaranteed to secure the winning band a record deal. They meet other ATSV characters along the way.

No mention of Y/N / Reader, written from 1st person POV. Self-insertion is made easier by fewer details about the MC.

Notes on language: Tried my best here, if you are a native speaker of French, let me know if the MC's French is unnatural and I will love you forever.

Romance, angst, and poorly understood music concepts are often written as having a distinct visual component because I am an artist first. <

@pinksugarscrub @the-kr8tor I DID THE THING!

*******************************************************************

Chapter 1 - “Vous êtes maître de votre vie et de vos émotions, ne l’oubliez jamais. Pour le meilleur et pour le pire”

The Rusty Nail's neon whir and raucous rhythms had been muted to a melancholy hum that evening, it was a ghost town, the emptiness of the dimly lit bar echoing with decades of unfulfilled longings. I nursed my drink, letting the smoky burn of liquor etch contours of quiet contemplation onto my throat as I surveyed the handful of kindred souls keeping solemn vigil. Life had been feeling heavy, and I needed to write, to make art, and to get lost in music.

At the far end of the bar hunched a beautiful wraith, his slim, angular frame sheathed in torn denim and studded leather. Something indefinable shimmered around him, unsung poetry, snippets of melodies, a symphony I could see and hear and almost touch. Drawn like a moth to the lambent glow of the music, I slid onto the stool beside the ethereal punk spectre. In my mind's eye, I crowned him the prince of punk, a fairy tale rebel.

Our bodies brushed intimately in the cramped space, raising ghosts of sensation along the exposed skin of my fishnets. "Wozzat, luv?" he murmured, kohl-rimmed eyes flickering over the point of contact with a soldering heat.

Mon dieu, {My God} Had I spoken my admiration aloud? A flush crept up my cheeks as I scrambled for a response.

"Désolé. Je répétais quelque chose pour ne pas l'oublier… Need to write it down before I lose it," {Sorry. I was repeating something so I wouldn't forget it…} I mumbled, a flimsy excuse for my wandering mind.

Fumbling through my bag ,I pulled out my tattered notebook, fingers trembling as I scribbled down a scrap of verse inspired by the punk's incandescent presence beside me. I scribbled my observations in hasty strokes. The dying light of day bled into night, a liminal space that begged for a soundtrack. I could almost hear it, a melody just out of reach, shimmering in the smoky air.

"The liminal light of late afternoon, yawning into early evening…" I muttered, pulling on the strings of the melody, trying to draw it back to me. "I don't want to be loved for the things that I don't do. I don't want to be just a pretty face, I want to be a work of art…We are all just works of art."

The jukebox fell silent, making my mutterings around sift and strange, slightly unhinged---but the punk prince remained---his gaze heavy on my skin. I met his stare, unflinching. Unabashed curiosity flickered in eyes, wide brown and doe-like, framed by lashes so lush they seemed to blur the line between masculine and feminine, earthly and ethereal. I found myself dizzied by warring impulses - to flee this unsettling intimacy, or be consumed by it wholly.

He was a changeling, gorgeously androgynous: part punk Mona Lisa with a Cheshire cat grin, part Jean-Michel Baptiste, part force-of-fucking-nature. He made me feel like a background character in his story, could be a punk fairy princess, and I would be the dragon. My thoughts raced, fragments of poetry and half-formed desires. I scribbled faster, chasing the threads of inspiration, but a nudge from my prince brought me back to earth.

Snatches of poetry, raw and unfinished, that I urgently longed to refine on the page before they dissipated like the last wisps of smoke in a spent ashtray. But the punk's aura dragged me too deeply into devotional reverie. I glanced up apologetically as my concentration scattered, the thread of inspiration slipping through my fingers once more.

The bartender had sprouted up directly in front of me, and she eyed me expectantly. Her hair was a shock of blue curls and silver streaks shorn close to her scalp, it made her eyes seem more gray. Her skin etched with lines that mapped out the years like a roadmap. I felt the familiar pang of a poem lost to the ether.

"Un…Jack Daniel's, s'il vous plaît," {A…Jack Daniel's, please} I said, no longer able to filter its lilt from my words, as I wasn't paying attention to dulling it.

"Blimey, that's a proper choice, innit? You 'ere for the battle of the bands event this week, love?"

"Oui, how did you know?" {Yes, how did you know?}

"Just a…sense," he demurred with a wicked grin. "Call it a punk's intuition, darling. I'm in the mix too, y'know."

The bartender chuckled as she set my drink down. "You mean because everyone is here for Bandfest? Don't listen to this one, lovey, he's incorrigible. The crowds will be in later on, but you're a bit early."

"Shh, Roz. Who's up tonight?" The prince asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Oh, you want insider information? What's in it for me?"

"Givin' away free tattoos, could autograph yer arm, love."

"I'll pass, thanks. The brackets are up in an hour anyway. It's Night Terrors vs. Death Rapture, Blood Prophecy vs. Cherry Bomb, Spider Punks vs. Neon Requiem…"

"Why are the punk bands going up against the metal bands?" I asked, just as the prince inquired about Phantom Pulse.

"There wasn't a lot of quality competition this year, or that's what the sponsors said, so they automatically advance to the semifinals since they won last year."

"Bollocks!" The prince cried, his outrage palpable.

"Oi Punk, you don't want to sign with Vic Luna at Zenith Music Group, anyway."

"Tu…ne le fais pas? Mais pourquoi?" {You…don't? But why?} The words tumbled out, my curiosity getting the better of me. At her blank stare, I repeated the question in English, heat rising to my cheeks.

Roz leaned in, her voice low, "Look kid, it's complicated…"

The prince rolled his eyes, a sneer playing at his lips. "Betrayed a lot of good bands."

"You don't need to remind me, Punk, I lived through it. Despite the changes at Zenith Music Group, they still organize the annual Bandfest, which showcases both established and emerging talent in the punk and metal scenes. The event is highly respected within the community and provides a platform for bands to gain exposure and connect with fans," the bartender continued, her words stilted, rehearsed.

"Ay, and they are the sponsor bringing in your crowds." The prince's voice was sharp, laced with an emotion I couldn't quite place.

"The only time we're out of the red, punkass. We'd have to shut down if it weren't for the Battle." She said heavily, "Which is the greater evil, we are a place of refuge for several members of the community, not just you."

"You don't need to remind me Roz, I'm living through it. Right, I'll stop ragging on the corporate sods for now, until you have some plausible deniability." He raised his hands in mock surrender, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.

"There's a good Punk." Roz smiled, sliding him another pint before retreating.

I made a mental note to warn my bandmates about Vic and Zenith's sordid history. We were in this for the music, not the money, no one played metal for the money--but it never hurt to be cautious.

"Roz is like the den mother of the London punk scene, a living testament to grit and resilience, and screaming yourself hoarse at basement shows. Dream t'be like her when I grow up. To listen without judgment, offer advice without preaching, and know when to slide a shot of whiskey across the bar and when to cut you off. She has a way of looking at you, really seeing you, like you matter… like you are more than just another face in the crowd." His voice trails off, heavy with emotion. He blinks and shakes it off.

"Can I see it?" The prince's voice cut through our lost thoughts, his fingers reaching for my notebook.

I clutched it to my chest, a knee-jerk reaction. "Can you look into my very soul, like Roz?"

His smirk widened, that Cheshire cat grin that set my heart racing. He nodded, a challenge in his eyes.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he purred, and I felt my stomach flip. I repeated the phrase in my mind, first in French, then in English, just to be sure I'd heard him right. Wasn't this some flirty idiom?

"You have a book of poetry somewhere hidden in those skinny jeans, mon ami?" {my friend?} I ask, hesitant, double-checking his meaning. He flirts like others breathe.

In lieu of an answer, he produced a sharpie from thin air. Before I could protest, he had my arm in his grasp, his touch electric against my skin. I shrugged off my leather jacket, baring my arms to his ink-stained fingers. Roz chuckled as she set another drink before me, clearly amused by the prince's antics.

"You'll need it…I see you took this wanker up on the free tattoo offer. Don't let him draw any on your arms."

"Any? …Any what?"

"Wankers," she clarified with a laugh. It clarifies nothing, I need to study my British slang.

"I would not mar the flesh of such a beautiful and willing participant, Roz. Kindly fuck off," the prince mumbled around the sharpie cap clenched between his teeth.

Between the verses he scrawled, he peppered me with questions, his voice a giddy whisper.

"So, who's your poison, love? Which bands get your motor runnin'?"

"Ah, j'adore Rammstein, Gojira, et bien sûr, Motörhead. And so many others, doesn't even scratch the surface. Et toi?" {Ah, I love Rammstein... And you?}

"Proper choices, those. For me, it's the classics - Sex Pistols, The Clash, Buzzcocks. Real raw, in-your-face stuff, y'know?"

I leaned in, excited, but too close. I nearly jumped as my lips grazed the dusky shell of his ear. "Ah, un homme de bon goût! I've seen the Buzzcocks live, you know. Pure chaos, c'était incroyable!" {Ah, a man of good taste! I've seen the Buzzcocks live, you know. Pure chaos, it was incredible!}

"No bleedin' way! Metal chick like you? I'd give me left bollock to have seen the Sex Pistols live. But I did catch The Clash back in '07. Changed me life, it did."

"Lemmy, sans aucun doute. The man's a legend!" {Lemmy, without a doubt.} I declare into the bar.

"Oi, don't go disrespectin' Johnny, now! The bloke's a punk icon, 'e is!"

"You're a punk icon!" someone shouted from the back, but the prince waved them off with a grin.

"Oh, I didn't catch your name," I said, with a sudden shame, my brow furrowed.

"Everyone just calls me Punk. You can too. Just not dirty punk, we don't want to come to blows, do we, love?"

"I'd kick your ass, mon ami. Pas grand chose à donner, mon petit prince des fées… eh mon prince dégingandé, right? I would not describe you as petite even if you are skinny." {I'd kick your ass, my friend. Not much to give, my little fairy prince… eh my lanky prince, right?}

Miguel was at my side in an instant, all rippling muscle and furrowed consternation. "Carnalita, {little sis} why did you sneak out on practice just to drink in this hellhole?" he rumbled, disapproval lacing every sonorous word. Tenderness faded a bit.

I met his gruff chiding with an insouciant toss of my hair. "Salut, Miguel. Ça fait longtemps." {Hello, Miguel. It's been a while.}

"Is that Jack? No puedo mas… Carnalita…This shit is bad for you." {I can't take it anymore…little sis...}

"Je nais etre rond comme une queue de pelle. Tu es vraiment un trou de balle quand tu dis des choses pareilles!" {I would be round as a shovel handle. (Idiom, essentially she is saying ~ I was born to be drunk) You are really a dumbass when you say things like that!}

Miguel's grumbling stream of Spanish reprimands washed over me as I settled into our familiar dynamic - the tender yet terse cantata of friend and protector that had composed them score of our relationship since childhood. For all his bluster, I knew every arrhythmic cadence encoded Miguel's steadfast affection.

Only Gabriel's soft interjection could salve the rising discord. "You worry too much, Miggy. We've been practicing all week."

He cast me a plaintive glance, silently pleading for conciliation, and I grudgingly obliged with an internal eyeroll. "Qu'il aille se faire! C'est vraiment chiant tu te rends compte." {Let him go fuck himself! It's really annoying, you know.}

Heedless of my saucy french asides, Miguel merely drew a fortifying breath before continuing in that maddening timbre of unrelenting reason. "Gabri and I could have come out with you. You shouldn't go out alone in an unknown city - it's not safe for you, mi carnalita."

The prince leaned towards us with a lazy smirk, "S'not that serious. The Rusty Nail is safe enough." He paused as the bartender snorted in agreement before continuing, "We're keeping the lady safe, mate…you can trust me, I'm one of the Spider-Punks."

Miguel simply sneered at the prince's proffered handshake, dismissing it out of hand. "You have arms like sticks. How would you keep her safe?"

The punk's smirk widened as he shrugged. "Ah, one of those. Never skip leg day, eh bruv?"

I strangled a guffaw as Gabriel hastened to run interference, engulfing the punk's hand eagerly. "We've heard of you guys, the local punk band, yeah? Your drummer is…gahh…Ah-Mazing! You think we could meet?"

"You call that punk noise "rock"?" Miguel scoffed. "Metal is where the real skill lies…Real talent is in the complexity, the technical skill. Metal pushes boundaries, takes you to new places. Punk's just three chords and an attitude."

I rolled my eyes. At this rate, I'd have to drag Miguel out before he started a brawl.

"Ah, mais non, Miggy. There's art in simplicity too. Punk, metal, it's all about the energy, the message, non?" {Ah, but no, Miggy. There's art in simplicity too. Punk, metal, it's all about the energy, the message, right?}

Miguel grunted, but squeezed my hand.

I stood, motioning for him to lean in close. "Allez, let's save the competition for the stage, d'accord? I learned some things about the record company. We should talk in private." {Come on, let's save the competition for the stage, okay?}

The prince unfolded himself, towering over me. "Tell you what, mate. Let's settle this on stage. We'll let the crowd decide who's got the real chops," he challenged.

Gabriel chimed in, "Pero, mana's right, Miguel." {But, sister is right, Miguel.}

Miguel looked ready to explode, but Gabriel's eyes held him in check.

"Music's music. Let's just focus on putting on a good show, and maybe we can learn something from their band, eh?" Gabriel said.

The prince leaned in, lips grazing my cheek. "Aye, love. Can't wait to teach your wall of meat here a thing or two. How about we give 'em a show they won't forget…later?"

I grinned, "Oui! A collaboration? Here… Ça ne casse pas trois pattes à un canard…mais, pour vous. I want it back later." {Yes! A collaboration? Here…It doesn't break three duck legs (Idiom ~ It's nothing special) …but, for you. I want it back later.}

The lanky punk sauntered off, his studded boots leaving faint trails of glitter on the barroom floor. Miguel's scowl deepened as he watched him depart, fists clenched tightly.

"Is that your poetry notebook?" he growled, voice rumbling low.

"Yes, I traded it to the punk faerie for these tattoos, I smirked, revealing the vine-like scrawl of ink now adorning my flesh like raised scars from whipping brambles.

Miguel's face darkened further, storm clouds gathering at my words. "The one you never let anyone touch or read…"

His voice strangled to a whisper, and I could not parse the complex calculus of emotions flitting behind his eyes

Gabriel placed a calming hand on his brother's arm.

"Easy, hermano {brother}. He's not worth it," Gabriel said in a soothing tone.

"Be nice, Punk is a good guy. I like him," I countered softly, a warm glow blossomed within me as I realized my entire arm was now a crawling garden of sentences entirely in French.

Miguel opened his mouth, undoubtedly to unleash a heated retort, but Gabriel cut in, "Should we go look at the brackets to see who we're facing?"

"It looks like my entire arm is covered with quotes from The Little Prince, which happens to be my favorite book. It's actually quite a sweet gesture," I said softly, fingertips grazing the raised words like treasured runes.

With renewed curiosity, I examined the ink quote now etched on my skin: "Vous êtes maître de votre vie et de vos émotions, ne l'oubliez jamais. Pour le meilleur et pour le pire." {You are the master of your life and your emotions, never forget that. For better or worse.}

I didn't mention the lone scrawl that could have been a phone number hidden amidst the literary foliage now vining my limb. Miguel was in full-on Dad mode, and I didn't need to add fuel to that particular fire.

"I already know the competition for the quarterfinals, we don't need to waste our time. Come on, manos {used as slang for brother}, we're going to kick some ass!" I giggled brightly, elated at my new 'tattoos' scrawling up my arms. I didn't put my leather jacket back on, I didn't want to cover any of it up.

Miguel's glare never wavered, his eyes fixed on the far side of the bar where the prince had disappeared into the crowd. "Don't tempt me. Let's go, carnalita {little sister}, time for practice."

With a resigned sigh, I surrendered to my brothers' insistent tugs, allowing them to lead me from the Rusty Nail. But the punk prince's parting words still reverberated through my mind like the lingering notes of a siren song. Later, he had purred, that single hushed syllable seeming to contain all the intoxicating lure of a siren's call - equal parts velvet promise and brazen challenge, twined inextricably into an enchantment I could not resist. The whole damn bar was a sailor's nightmare.

#across the spiderverse #hobie x reader #hobie spiderverse #hobie fluff #hobie brown #astv hobie #spider punk #au spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel fanfic #hobie fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #gabriel o'hara

[marciaillust]

Hey! I just wanted to say I’ve been following you forEVER now, and that your art has been inspiring me since i was a teenager. I was wondering if you could share a little about your rendering process? How did you improve it over the years, what did you learn you wish u knew sooner, stuff like that?

(Thanks anyway, and definitely getting myself ur new comic)

Hi! oh wow thank you so much for the kind words!

My rendering process hmmmm.... I will try to sum up the thoughts that come to my mind as I'm writing this, though I might be missing some proper vocabulary

The first thing that surfaced in my brain is exposition within a picture. This is what the picture focuses on - things in the light, or things in the shadow, and how much details each of these two receive rendering wise.

It's basically like taking a photo with a phone - if you click on a bright thing (say, a window), the phone will automatically adjust the exposition and all the other bright things will be visible(lotta detail), but the shadows will become turbo dark (no details). Alternatively, if you click on a dark shadow, all the dark things will become visible (details) but the hypothetical window will become blown out and turbo white (no details). You can basically have one or the other but never both. (or I guess you can who am I to tell anyone how to make art yanno no rules up in this house)

anyway, so for example, this pic^ focuses on the things in the dark, meaning everything in direct light receives no details.

and this pic^ focuses on the light and so all the cast shadows are pitch black.

One other thing that I learned a longass time ago was that edges(and shapes) are arguably the most important part of an object within a picture. Clean edges immediately call for focus, while softer or vague edges allow things to fade in the background and communicate the idea of a thing rather than showing you the thing itself. On a related note note, clean edges also make work in progress appear about 25% more finished.

I guess this all has to do with contrast and contrast can be created in many ways - edges (soft/sharp), colours (eg. red fish in a blue sea), spacing (objects being grouped vs. a single object), the amount of detail per object etc etc etc. and all of these can be controlled to solve specific issues within a picture.

In short, if a thing is important aka the focal point, make it stand out - sharp edges, details, specific colours and a lighting situation that make it pop. And if a thing isn't too important leave it vague, communicate the idea of it rather than focusing on drawing it.

On the note of things being sharp, a thing that I always swore by is, if there are eyes in the picture those eyes better be d-o-n-e. Pristine. People will look at the eyes, eyes communicate 90% of emotion, the eyes are the it girl of the picture forever and always, nobody will look at the wonky foot, they will look at the eyes and judge the quality of the picture. If the eyes are shit the picture is shit. (I'm exaggerating but fr. eyes are a big deal.). They don't have to be turbo rendered or physically mad sharp but they need to be done. Whatever that means, take what you will from my word soup.

One thing that I've become a big fan of over the years is the concept of wear and tear. This has to do with texturing things in pictures and I looooooooooooooooove thinking about ways items are used in order to create bumps and scratches that can be featured.

It always makes things look like they belong to someone?? It makes them real? Like the tip of that bone. that bone has been places. That belt has seen use. That bag carried things. Like yanno?? I looove things that chip and have nicks. Give me wood and I'll put a dent in it I swear.

And I thing the latest thing that I'm trying to incorporate within my art, though I haven't had much time or opportunity to do it in personal art because of work, is colour variation within each element.

Like his face. His skin is obviously "beige" but you will see red, and blue and yellow and green in there too. Stuff like that yanno? I'm quite interested in taking this further in my future paintings. I'm still learning how to push what, where and how but ayyy issa journey I'll happily embark on.

And of course apart from all that it's the usual jazz, working on anatomy composition perspective doing it a lot over and over again babababababa and so on and so forth.

I haven't had much opportunity to paint since I started working on the comic last year but it had it own set of challenges for me. Linework is a completely different kind of rodeo and I've improved in different departments a lot and I'd be happy to bring those things into my paintings when I have the chance. I feel like I'm at a point where I know a lot more than what I've had the opportunity to put on paper, it feels exciting!

I hope at least some of my ramblings were of interest to you!! Again, that you for the nice message and have a nice day :)

[optimisticsaladalpaca]

What the fuck. Like, seriously. What in the fuck was this post back in April. Who in their right mind actually sat their ass down to go on a whole rant about how an indie animation is a clone of another show that came out after the first? You can tell that this person was born with an ability. And that ability is stupidity.

Ok, so let's recap on this major 'what the fuck' post. I'm just going to point out things that makes absolutely no sense.

Do you know how many shooting games tend use firearms as one of the weapons when you first play it? Do you not know that firearms existed waaaaaay before Helluva Boss was getting developed? Because I guarantee you, Helluva Boss was not the only one that referenced about firearms at all. There's no originality. It's just straight up inspiration. Who cares if Lackadaisy is using similar weapons! You're acting like Helluva Boss owns that shit, dawg.

So actors can't voice another character after the previous one? Wow! Didn't think that was a rule now. My fucking god bloody hell... Michael Dietz who voiced Vee from The Owl House was the same lady who voiced Amethyst from Steven Universe for gods sake. Why is Michael Kovach voicing Rocky a bad thing? All because he used to be Angel Dust? Be glad that he's actually voicing a character that doesn't constantly swear and bring up corny middle school sex jokes that take up almost half of the pilot.

...This right here was one of the most stupidest takes I've ever seen in media and it will forever stay in my memory. Because what. The actual. Fuck. MOXXIE AIN'T THE ONLY ONE THAT WEARS A BOWTIE, BRO!

SO MANY SHOWS AND MOVIES ALWAYS GOT THAT ONE FANCY PERSON THAT NEEDS A BOWTIE, ESPECIALLY GIRLS. THERE'S NO ORIGINALITY. ANY CHARACTER CAN WEAR A BOWTIE...HOW IS THAT COPYING? THAT'S LIKE SAYING A CERTAIN CAR IS A COPY OF YOURS BECAUSE IT'S THE SAME COLOR LIKE...HUH? WHY WOULD YOU JUDGE FRENKLE BASED ON CLOTHING? WHO DOES THAT??? DOES THE OP HAVE BRAIN DAMAGE? HAVE THEY SEEN DONALD DUCK? BECAUSE HE WEARS A BOWTIE TOO... WHAT ABOUT MUSICIANS? BUTLERS? BUSINESS WORKERS? THEY ALL WEAR A BOW TIES...

Lackadaisy has been worked on since 2006 and it has wonderful world building with enjoyable characters that you can actually love. It's also refreshing because it doesn't have unnecessary sex jokes or swearing just to prove that it's "mature." And it actually has funny humor. Lackadaisy is it's own thing and I love the concept of it being in St Louis and that it takes place in the 1920s. Not to mention, it took the Lackadaisy crew four years to work on the animation pilot. Fucking 4 and it hasn't changed it's story since it was first created years ago. It had it's own ideas and interesting plot, while Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel have been getting worked on AFTER that! Plus, they aren't even comparable. They are completely different.

Lackadaisy is about cats that wanna shoot each other until their eyes stop activating. Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel take place in literal HELL. LACKADAISY TAKES PLACE ON EARTH 😬....

These Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel fans make me sick. Lackadaisy is better than both of these trashy shows and that's my own opinion. The fact that an actual great western pilot is getting compared to a horny demon show is beyond me.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss criticism