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#[-is to practice! take your time and be kind to yourself!]
kafkasmuses · 3 days
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KITTY KAT — art donaldson + reader : art has a tendency to show up late to your lessons. 
tags: mdni, tennis lessons, coach!art donaldson, p in v sex, fingering, art is kind of an asshole, cheating (not on reader) 
a/n: sorry to tashi… this goes out to my dear @murdrdocs
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thirty minutes ago. 
art donaldson was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, your teeth grit against each other, foot tapping impatiently against the concrete floor below you. 
art was a sweet guy, sure, but his time management was beyond infuriating. it almost made you feel like he thought himself above you, like you weren’t worth his time. 
“one to talk,” you mumble to yourself, dragging your racket on the ground, “rich from the guy who was coached by his wife.” 
ahem. 
you spin around, and of course, he’s standing right there, looking the same as he always does. his dirty blonde hair was messed up and falling over his eyebrows, blue eyes, with a mix of brown, staring directly at you with an almost amused expression. 
you blink at him, once, twice. 
a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “sorry for being late.” 
it sounds condescending, like he would never actually mean it, especially not after what he heard, it felt like a sort of karma for what you were previously saying about him. 
and he knows that, of course he does, so he masks it with a sense of sweetness, one that would typically gaslight people into thinking they’ve been forgiven, but you know better. 
you’ve been coached by art for a while now, and his little habits became far too predictable. this was odd, though, you couldn’t make out the glint in his eye, especially when you mumble a, “sorry, i didn’t mean—“  
“let’s get started, yeah?” art cuts in, bitter, yet his voice still sounded like it was dipped in honeysuckle.
he whisks right past you with that same, tugged up smirk, he reeked of rich cologne and mint. 
your lips press together and you silently, albeit ashamed, nod in agreement. 
maybe silence will earn points back from your coach. 
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾
silence did not earn anything. 
art served hard, hit the ball hard, it was as if he wanted to make the ball break through your racket and hit you square in the face. he clearly took your miniscule words personally, and he was testing you, trying to break you down, to see how much you could take until your bones turned soft and you felt like giving up. 
the first time you called a pause, art smiled, “don’t tell me you’re giving up.” 
“pause,” you repeat through heaved breaths, sweat sticking to your skin underneath the relentless sun. art had that same playful look in his eyes that he always did, he knew that what he was doing was working, he knew that he was getting under your skin, and as cruel as it sounds, he really did enjoy it. 
if you ever were to ask him about it, he’d just shrug and say it’s all a part of the practice, it always happens in tennis, especially professional, he’s just preparing you. but deep down, he really just wanted to say that he was doing it for those reasons but for his own personal pleasures, karma comes in many forms, but art picks the harshest form first. 
he watches you drink water with a desperate urgency, stifling his own chuckles, “you sure you’re okay?” 
“‘m fine,” you speak after gulping down the last drop, finally satisfied, “let’s keep going.” 
art’s brows furrow ever so slightly, but as soon as you’re back to being ready, he rolls the tennis ball in his hand a little, observing it, before throwing it up in the air and sending it your way. he’s so casual with every hit, despite his grunts and the way his nose scrunches whenever ball meets racket, he makes it look like it’s nothing. 
to make it even worse, he starts trying to conversate between passes, “you know—“ smack! another grunt leaves his lips, “it’s really rude to—“ smack! “speak about people behind their—“ smack! “fuck.. backs.” 
you’re so busy trying to decipher his words you almost miss the next hit, but thankfully you snap out of the trance quick enough to hit it last minute, which he chuckles at and quickly sends it back. 
smack! “‘m sorry, art, really—“ your shoes scratch against the concrete below, smack! “i was being very—“ smack! “childish, i apologize.” 
he hums, content with your apologies, but still not outwardly saying he forgives you, instead his hits start to soften, he’s less trying to kill you with the ball and now rather trying to actually play tennis. “you’re all good—“ he confirms, smack! “just make it up to me, yeah?” 
ball meets floor, his words had completely caught you off guard, and you missed your hit on the ball he sent your way. you felt almost stupid, standing there, staring at him and trying to decipher what he meant by making it up to him. 
and of course, he didn’t elaborate, he never did, he simply just picked up another ball, smiled at you, and said, “ready?” 
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾
art said he forgave you, right? 
ever since that day, he’s been acting.. off. he was more focused on your figure now, not in a crude way, but in a way where he wanted you to position yourself correctly when playing. he watches you serve the ball, then his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek and he stands, “hey, hey, wait a second— your uh… your stance is wrong.” 
“it is?” it was the fifth time he’s corrected you, today, and it’s safe to say you were getting annoyed, he picked up on the bitterness of your tone as he approached you. 
“‘ts not my fault, kitty cat,” he shrugged simply, noticing the way your eyes narrow in frustration at his nickname, he only smiles. he leans in behind you, “may i?” his hands are ghosting over your arms from behind. 
“whatever helps,” you remark. 
“good,” it’s softly spoken at the shell of your ear, making you swallow thick, his fingers wrap around your wrist, other one holding your fingers grip on the racket’s handle. his grip is tight, yet gentle at the same time, veins flexing against his flesh with every movement as he helps you move into the right position. “just gotta.. do it like this,” he’s still whispering against your ear, nearly making your knees buckle. 
once he’s satisfied with your position, which is far too quick for your liking, he backs off and lets you serve the ball again. he smiles once he’s gotten what he’s wanted, “perfect.” 
eventually, after a while of hitting the ball, you decided to take a break. there was a silence between you and art, a tension you couldn’t place, you had nothing to blame it on, nothing to apologize for, and he constantly looked like he was trying to say something indescribable. 
“hey,” he starts, before tugging his bottom lip under his tongue for a mere second before continuing, “remember when i said you had to make it up to me?” 
you stare at him, curious, “yeah, of course.” 
“you know,” his hands smooth over each other, skin underneath his right eye twitching as his pupils dilate in thought, “i’ve been having a.. problem, lately.” 
“with tennis?” 
“nono,” he laughs nervously, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “it’s personal, y’know? well— not entirely, since ‘m telling you, but uh— actually, nevermind.” 
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾
you and art hadn’t discussed much after the last meet, you found yourself standing in the court yet again, whilst he was no short of an hour late at this point. you wanted to ask him what his deal is lately, what his problem is, but he wasn’t even here to be questioned. it was almost ridiculous, like he was toying with you. 
“i like your skirt,” it comes out of nowhere, but it’s the same, smooth voice that art holds. 
yet again, you find yourself spinning around to meet him, he’s closer, now, clearly eyeing you— but that’s.. weird, is it not? he has a wife, he shouldn’t be complimenting your obviously short skirt, or eyeing you like that, or wishing to tell you things that he had apparently not told anyone else because it’s personal. but who are you to question his relationship? maybe he’s just.. being nice, really. 
“thank you,” you offer, nice, short, sweet. 
he rolls his shoulder, meeting your eyes, flickering his gaze to your lips for a mere second, then saying nothing and walking by. rich cologne and mint. that’s what wafts into your senses immediately, as if it was some sort of distraction from his odd behaviors. 
“do you always call people kitty cat?” you eventually ask him, it was something you’d been wondering, truly, especially since you’ve never been called that before. 
“to pretty girls with an attitude, yeah,” art says it so casually. 
“like your wife?” 
“like you.” 
art corrected you. 
he corrected you, and his correction didn’t annoy you like how they always did, it made your stomach churn in a way you couldn’t decipher, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. you liked it, maybe, but isn’t that so sickening? art seems to think no big deal of his own words, as he doesn’t even react, so you try to be nonchalant about it as well. 
the whole entire test match you play with him, he has a certain glint in his eye, his grunts are louder, his shorts look tighter, he looks like he’s having some sort of reaction to playing tennis, to playing tennis with you. your tongue runs along your lips between breaks, noticing the way his eyes linger on it, the way his pupils widen at the shine of saliva over your lips with each swipe. 
at the third break, art was convinced you were doing this on purpose. 
“why do you keep doing that?” he asks as he’s walking over to grab his water bottle, right where you’re sitting on the concrete floor. you blink up at him, watching him hover the bottle near his lips and squirt the water into his mouth. did he always look this good when sweaty? 
gosh, maybe you’re just tired, maybe your mind is just foggy. 
“what?” you frown, confused. 
“licking your lips,” he speaks after swallowing the water, towering over you. his muscles were nearly bursting out of his white t-shirt with every movement, especially when he puts his water bottle down and crosses his arm, head cocking to the side. sweat causes some of his hair strands to stick to his forehead, lips puffy from how much he bites them when playing. 
“my lips are dry,” you explain, so simple. 
“yeah?” again, another smile, he had to be toying with you, “do you need some other help with that?” 
“what do you mean?” 
art hums, not explaining anything when he opens his mouth and swipes his thumb along his tongue, moving down to rub the saliva from his tongue onto your lips, memorizing the pillowy soft touch. your eyes widen, slightly, “art, this is—“ 
“not helping?” art tuts in faux disappointment, mumbling a small, ‘why don’t i..’ before he leans down further, licking his own lips and getting closer and closer until his lips are brushing against yours. 
“wrong,” you mumble out, but you sound unsure, like you don’t really believe what you just said, you don’t think this is wrong, you’ve always thought art was attractive, it was his wife that kept your crush on him at bay. you mumble against his lips, “you have a wife, art..” 
“do i?” he smirks against your lips, a near chuckle slipping out, “i must’ve forgotten.” 
“art,” it sounds like a warning, but again, you wanted nothing less than for his lips to fall against yours right now. 
“make it up to me, yeah? remember that?” his hand moves to hold your cheek, tipping your head up at him, eyes meeting yours in such close proximity, “i’ve got some marriage problems right now, so why don’t you play wife for me, hm?” 
you nod at him, ever so slightly, he clocks it immediately, and that’s his que. his eyes flutter shut, and he’s leaning in only a mere centimeter before his lips fall against yours. the kiss is soft at first, sweet, new, but then art starts taking the lead, and it quickly becomes something on the faint lines of cannibalism, he kissed you like he wanted to eat you, like he loved you. 
when he said he wanted you to play wife, he wasn’t lying. 
he pries your lips open with his own before his tongue makes it’s way inside your mouth, tasting the peppermint of your gum on your own tongue, memorizing the noisy breaths that leave your mouth and move into his. your nails are quick to run along his arms, making him pull back to speak, “hold on, kitty cat.” 
“you call your wife kitty cat?” you watch him peel off his sweaty shirt from his skin. 
he tosses the shirt to the side, exhaling a breath that showed he hated the feeling of the wet fabric on his skin, “mm, i call you kitty cat, ‘nd you’re playing my wife, so.” 
“right,” you agree, letting his cold hands brush against your skin when he takes your clothes off of you, of course looking at you for approval beforehand, which you nod to. 
“did you start wearing shorter skirts on purpose?” art questions when his fingers reach the waistband of your skirt, ever so slowly dipping underneath. 
“no, ‘course not,” you speak breathlessly, feeling his fingers move under your underwear as well until his fingertips meet your clit. you swallow thick, lashes fluttering as he starts moving his fingers in an almost cruel slowness. 
“look at me,” he whispers a simple command, free hand holding your chin and forcing you to look at him. his fingers move further down, immediately feeling how wet you are, he chuckles in surprise, “god, you’re this wet for a married man, huh?” 
“for my husband,” you mumble out, playing the part. 
“that’s right,” his middle finger circles your entrance for a second before ever so slowly dipping it inside. he watches your lips fall apart, the way your eyes get glossed over, the way your hips push up against his finger. “needy.” 
he doesn’t take long to push another finger in, letting go of your chin so he could guide your hand to his clothed cock, hard and pushing against his flimsy shorts. as soon as you start rubbing his dick through the fabric, his breath shudders slightly, as if he’s been waiting too long for like, as if he hasn’t had sexual pleasure in weeks. 
soon enough, only a mere minute or two in of foreplay, art gets antsy and he has to have his dick inside of you, he pries his fingers from your cunt and takes your skirt off next. “lay down for me, yeah?” he smiles at the fact that you do it immediately, even spreading your legs for him. 
he hisses at the feeling when his bare knees meet the concrete floor below, harsh on his skin, he tugs his shorts and boxers down ever so slightly until his cock is finally freed. you inhale sharply upon seeing it, he had a big dick. he spits in his hand, coating his dick with a grunt before he finally lines himself up with your entrance. 
“ready?” he hushes out. 
“yeah, yeah,” you’re barely able to finish the last yeah before his dick is moving into you, his nose scrunching from the tightness of your walls around him, it’s like you were purposefully squeezing his cock with an attempt to milk him dry already. 
“fuck,” he grunts out, pulling back, then moving back in, earning a pathetic moan from your lips. it sounds like music to his ears, so he keeps going, his thrusting was slow at first, gentle, kind— but just like the test matches, or the kiss, he gets hungry, and he wants more. 
his thrusts turn relentless almost immediately, maybe even like he was taking out some sorts of sexual frustrations out on your poor cunt. whimpers, whines, moans, all of those leave your lips, matching up with the grunts and the occasional whimper from his own mouth as well. 
sex was intoxicating for art, and there was something so dangerous, so forbidden about this, you weren’t really his wife, he was married to another woman, he was solely your coach. some sick part of art loves that, maybe that’s why he leans down and starts nipping at your neck, sucking at the delicate skin until maroon and blackberry starts blooming on the blank canvas. 
“art, oh my god,” you moan out, hands moving to scratch at his bare back, and maybe art should be smart enough to tell you not to leave marks, but he lets your nails dig in as his thrusts get harsher, surely drawing blood, or at least noticeable scratches. 
in fact, the feeling of you tearing into his skin only makes his orgasm come on faster, soon enough wracking his body and making his hips stutter. he keeps going though, despite the overstimulation that makes him pathetically whine softly, just until you’ve reached your own orgasm. 
he pulls out, panting, smirking down at you, “thanks, kitty cat.” 
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dyaz-stories · 1 day
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say my name and everything just stops || gojo satoru x reader
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synopsis: You welcome Gojo back after a mission that lasted longer than expected.
(He fucks you on your desk)
word count: 2.6k
genre: canon compliant, smut
cw: porn with some plot, porn with feelings, vaginal sex, fingering, gojo is a tease, light angst, some fluff too, reader is afab, implied fwb, gojo calls reader sensei but they're both teachers
a/n: just a little thing for fun and practice :) enjoy!
more gojo x reader here
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Though the sun is setting outside, you’re still at your desk, dutifully filing paperwork. You’ve dismissed the students a long time ago, of course, but you haven’t left the classroom yet. The door sliding open, though you haven’t heard any footsteps, has you glancing up, on high alert. The worry dissipates right away when you’re met with familiar white hair, a broad grin, and all-black clothing.
“Well, well, sensei,” Gojo Satoru says as he approaches your desk with a nonchalant pace, hands in his pockets, “working late, are we?”
“Gojo,” you reply, eyes back on the paper sheet in front of you. “How was your trip?”
“You know you can just ask Ijichi to do that for you, right?” Gojo continues, now standing in front of your desk. “No need for you to do all that by yourself.”
“Ijichi is busy,” you answer, unperturbed by the way he ignored your question. “You’ve been gone a whole week. Did something go wrong?”
“Aw, sensei,” he coos, “were you worried?”
You put down your pen to look up at him. You’re always worried, obviously. While you’re a teacher at Jujutsu High, the main role you’re expected to fulfill is that of strategist, to better coordinate group actions. You wouldn’t be able to do that without being at least a little paranoid.
It just so happens that you are very paranoid.
Faced with your stare, Gojo’s grin widens.
“Well, I guess they were happy to have me around and they had me fix all the little problems they hadn’t been able to get rid of by themselves,” he tells you with a shrug. “If I didn’t do it, no one was going to, so, might as well get everything taken care of in one go.”
It’s hard not to openly grit your teeth at his words. You’re not thrilled about the way Gojo just gets used and shipped off to wherever the elders deem fit. You and Shoko, on the other hand, are expected to remain caged in the more ‘safe’ properties, all in the name of the greater good. You’re not sure what good it’s doing. You still know better than to say it out loud.
“You stopped by Shoko’s before coming here,” you say. It’s not a question, and his face lights up at it.
“One day, you’re really going to have to tell me how you do that.”
It’s not that hard. A light smell of smoke lingers around him; the last button of his shirt is unbuttoned, likely because of an examination; there’s a pen sticking out of his pocket that you suspect he’s stolen off her desk; and he’s not wearing his usual travel shoes, meaning he changed since coming back to Tokyo, and knowing him, you must have been close to the top of his list of people to see, so you don’t think he went home, so Ichiji must have brought them to him at the lab.
You could easily have been wrong, of course. You just made an educated guess, and it worked out well for you.
“I found something weird out there,” he states matter-of-factly. “Didn’t need any patching up. C’mon, don’t tell me you were worried?”
You roll your eyes and push your chair back to stand up. He should have been back three days ago, and you didn’t hear from him. Not that the way your relationship works means you should have. It explicitly doesn’t.
“We don’t know what kind of curses are out there,” you say. “Anything could happen.”
“Aw,” Gojo says. “But you know I’m the strongest. I can take everything they throw at me.”
He says it with such absolute confidence that you want to believe him blindly, but all your instincts rebel at that idea. You can’t let yourself think he’s invincible. You can’t make your plans based on that idea. There’d be too much to lose if— if—
“With how gloomy you look, it’s hard to think you’re happy to see me,” Gojo pouts. “And here I was, thinking I’d get a warm welcome back…”
You scoff, fighting the smile that wants to break on your face, then make to move past him. You have no intention of actually leaving of course, but you know that—
Of course, the second he thinks you’re getting away from him, he grabs your wrist and twirls you around and into him. His arm wraps around your waist smoothly, presses your chest against his.
“Really? You’re not even a little bit happy?” He says it lightly, but you don’t miss the very light twinge of annoyance in his voice.
You like to think that you are one of the few people that can get a rise out of him.
It goes both way, of course, but now that you’re in his arms, after a week without touching him, anger and fear melt away all too easily, and all you want is him.
You put both of your arms around his neck, and push yourself on your tiptoes to capture his lips. There is a second during which he remains still, as if unsure, no matter how unlike him that would be. It’s like you don’t have him back yet, like there’s a part of him, of his mind, that is still out there with the curses.
But the moment passes, and then he’s kissing you feverishly. He pushes you back until you hit your desk, then helps lift you on top of it. The papers you’ve filled so dutifully fall to the floor, but he doesn’t care and neither do you. His warm tongue meets yours and you feel small moans escaping you, which he swallows hungrily. One of his hands sneaks under your shirt, the other pushes up your long skirt as he lifts up one of your legs, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh.
You burry your hand in his hair, try to pull him closer to you, because fuck, you’ve missed him, you’ve missed the weight of his body on yours, and you want him, you need him to be as close as possible. He groans inside your mouth, and when your other hand moves down to trace his jaw, his neck, the muscles of his shoulders, before trying to unbutton his shirt, it turns into a full whimper.
Unfortunately, that sound also brings you back to reality, and while your body is an inferno right now, you feel your cheeks heating up even more.
“Wait, wait, Gojo—”
“Satoru,” he almost growls. Now that you’re trying to speak, he presses open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, then down your neck, sucking and biting lightly at the skin.
“Satoru,” you whine, left with no strength nor desire to fight him on that, “we shouldn’t— students could—”
“They’ve gone home,” he dismisses your worries easily. “None of them are going to show up here at this time.”
He’s hooking his fingers in your panties now, trying to slide them down your legs, but you catch his arm first. You’re quite the spectacle, breathless and panting, clothes half off. Even then, there’s that serious light in your eyes that just has him weak in the knees.
“Yaga— Yaga could—”
“If you think about it, that’d be doing him a favor,” Satoru hums. “Would give him some really, really good material, if you ask me.”
He doesn’t add that the material in question is all his, and that he’d never let Yaga catch you in the act, just for that reason. He doesn’t have to, because his answer makes you laugh softly.
You always laugh for him.
“He better not find us,” you warn him, as your grasp on his arm relaxes.
“Hm, that shouldn’t be a problem, as long as a certain someone can keep quiet…”
You roll your eyes, and then you pull him back down against your lips to interrupt his laugh.
He manages to get your panties out of the way, and then pushes a long finger inside you. You’re already so wet for him, he marvels as it slides in easily. He soon follows it with a second one, spreading you open carefully, and that’s when you throw your head back, closing your eyes and pushing your hand against your mouth to muffle your moan.
“So you’ve really missed me, huh?” he can’t help but tease as he chases your mouth. He’d love nothing more than to hear you loud and clear, but he knows you won’t risk it, no matter how empty the school is right now.
Underneath him, your body trembles, and he can’t resist any longer. He pulls his blindfold out of the way, drinking in the most beautiful sight he’s ever beholden. You’re trying your best not to let the pleasure get to you, but even then, you manage to open an eye to look at him, and you’re met with the stunning blue eyes you wish you could see more often. Something softens inside you, and you reach up to touch his cheek.
“Of course I’ve missed you,” you answer.
Shit. He doesn’t know how long he can keep this up. He’s already rock hard and all he’s done is rock against you. He wanted to take his time with you tonight, because all he’s had the past week is the memory of you, and that’s nowhere near enough, but it’s not looking like he will last that long.
“Yeah?” he insists as his thumb finds your clit and he starts rubbing carefully. “Thought about me while I was gone?”
You let out a loud cry, manage to cover your mouth again before another one comes out. Your thighs are trembling around him, and fuck, he’s going to have to fuck you real soon, otherwise he’s just going to burst in his pants without you even touching him, at this point.
“I’ve thought of you,” he tells you as he pulls his fingers out of you to get rid of his pants. “Thought of how good you feel around me, of how good you sound for me, of how pretty you are when you’re bouncing on my cock…”
He guides his cock against your entrance, presses it against you. You buck your hips, unable to stop yourself, but he doesn’t give it to you, not just yet.
“You really want it that bad, don’t you?” he practically purrs.
“Satoru,” you whine, and oh, if you knew what it does to him when you say his name like that… “don’t make me b— Ah!”
Finally satisfied, he sheathes himself fully inside of you, and fuck, it’s all he’s been dreaming of for days now. Next time he swears he’ll come running back to you the second he’s done with the stupid assignment. You reach up for him and he lets you, lets you dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you bury your face in his neck to stifle your moans. His hips set up a lazy pace at first, and you try your best to follow, try to meet him with small movements of your own, before you feel his breath against your ear.
“It’s all good,” he says warmly. “Just let me take care of you, babe. I’ve got you.”
That’s when he picks up the pace, and you’re left to writhe underneath him, whimpering his name desperately against his skin like a prayer, Satoru, Satoru, Satoru!
You come, shaking, around him when he brings his fingers to your clit once more, and he doesn’t lose a second of it. The high-pitched moan that you just can’t hold in, the way your head falls back, how your thighs shake on either side of him, it’s all so perfect. You’re perfect.
He does his best to let you ride your orgasm on his cock, but he comes inside you just a couple seconds later, unable to last longer. He collapses on top of you, and your labored breathing fills the room. Your hand on his back moves gently, tracing circles on the nape of his neck, gently running through his hair.
“If you’re not down for a round two just yet, I recommend you stop that,” he mumbles against you, only to regret it immediately, because you do stop.
“We should— we should take this elsewhere,” you say quietly.
Ah, now that’s more like it.
“I can call Ichiji and we could do that in the back of the car on the way home,” he offers cheerfully as he gets up, putting the blindfold back in place, though not before he can see you grimace in horror at his suggestion.
“Absolutely not,” you say firmly, though once more, he was only teasing. He’d never let Ichiji see you like that. “Although, if you could call someone to come clean up in here, just, uh, just in case…”
Cute.
“Done. Now, about that round two…”
“Else. Where,” you insist, and you don’t fall for his cute pout.
He sighs but takes your hand to help you to your feet, then turns around as he pulls out his phone. He’s about to hit Ichiji’s number when your fingers on his skin almost bring a shiver out of him.
“Shouldn’t this be healing?” you ask, frowning, and he realizes you’re talking about the marks you’ve left on his back.
“Nah, I quite like them, actually,” he grins back. “Don’t you?”
There’s a lot of unsaid things that hang between the two of you. A lot of things that are better left unsaid. Sadly, you’re too smart for your own good, and you know better. You leave them be.
“I was worried for you,” is what do you say.
Satoru’s expression shifts. The grin vanishes, and you can’t see his eyes, so you’re not sure how he’s feeling, not until the corner of his lips lift up in a soft smile.
“Thank you,” he says, voice uncharacteristically low.
Then he turns away from you, and he’s as loud and boisterous as ever when Ichiji answers.
Of course. The strongest can’t let himself grow soft.
You bend down to pick up your papers, rearrange them neatly on the desk, eyes still on him, on the animated way he moves around the room.
You think you’re more grateful than he knows, for him being back here. Not because he’s the strongest, not because no one gets rid of a curse like he can, but because he’s Satoru. It’s probably better that way, though. You’re both too busy for distractions.
With a sigh, you put your papers back on the desk, then start moving towards the exit.
“Aren’t we going?” you ask Satoru right as you’re reaching the door.
You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows.
“Hope you wrote all that down, ‘cause I need to get out of here,” he says on the phone, and you hear Ichiji protest, but that doesn’t stop Satoru from hanging up unceremoniously. He follows you in the hallway, shoulders brushing against yours without quite touching.
“Hey, if not in the car, there’s a supply closet on the first floor—”
“No.”
“Yaga’s office is probably—”
“Absolutely not.”
“How about in my bed?” he asks, right against your ear, breath tickling against your skin. Your cheeks heat up.
“…Sure.”
He only savors his victory for a second.
“What about the couch?”
“Don’t push it.”
But he does, and you let him.
How could you not, when you finally have him back?
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still trying to get used to writing gojo's character, don't know if i quite have him just yet. i hope you enjoyed this, any feedback you have is welcomed and encouraged! reblogs and comments are what keeps me writing, so please engage with my work to let me know if you'd like to see more~
if you enjoy my writing, you can find more gojo x reader here
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watchmegetobsessed · 16 hours
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TOO SWEET
A/N: i know originally i teased something else with the hozier song, but this came to me when i saw the pics below and i just had to write them. also, i put the bruises on him so go easy on my photoshop skills lol
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
WARNING: mention of blood and bruises
SUMMARY: You and Harry are worlds apart, yet you can't let go of each other, not even when he stumbles into your home in the middle of the night, bruised and in pain.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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You wake to the sound of the front door closing and by the time his footsteps reach the bathroom down the hall you’re fully conscious. There was a time when you considered yourself a heavy sleeper, when the smallest noises could not bother you enough to wake from your dreams, but those days have been gone ever since Harry came into your life. 
You kind of knew what you were getting yourself into, his reputation and horrific stories about his dark deals were more than well-known around town and there was a time you never thought you’d get involved with him. You’re worlds apart, he is the fire that will burn you if you get too close, but it appears you’re the water that could take his danger out. Just one party, one glance across the room was enough to bound you two together and turn your life upside down. 
Surprisingly, you weren’t the only one fighting against the pull. In the beginning, Harry tried to keep him away from you just as much as you attempted to convince yourself he is nothing but trouble. You still remember what he told you one night when you met him at a dodgy bar against your better judgment. 
“I take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You’re way too sweet for me, baby.”
It felt like he wasn’t even talking to you but to himself. His light green eyes were darker than ever as he stared down at your lips and you couldn’t figure out what you wanted more, to kiss him or to leave him. Even though what he said sounded a lot like a promise that he’ll step back, somehow you just ended up even closer. 
Life with Harry is like a rollercoaster that takes you through Hell and Heaven at the same time. When it’s good, it’s a high you’ve never experienced before, he is everything you want and could ever need, he fills your heart and eases your mind like no one can and you know he is the piece you’ve been searching for all your life.
But when it’s low… the darkness feels like a weight you can barely carry and it’s hard to remember what it was like when you were blossoming. 
You never asked Harry to stop his underworld deals, you know it’s practically impossible, but it’s also hard to live like this. Fearing every call you get, fighting intrusive thoughts about what might have happened to him every time he doesn’t answer your messages and then there are the nights like this, when he visits you in the middle of the night but it’s always for the wrong reason. 
The first time Harry appeared at your door at two am, blood running down his face, barely holding himself up, you got so worried he had to calm you even though he was the one with the injuries, but you just couldn’t stop crying and sobbing. 
Now you still get yourself worked up but you learned to keep your face straight as you clean his wounds or even stitch them, but it’s still just as much of a struggle emotionally to see the man you love like this all the time. 
You sit up in your bed as you hear him grunt before closing the bathroom door as quietly as he can and then the water starts running. Reaching for your phone on the nightstand you check the time, it’s just a little past three in the morning, the dim light of the streetlamps are the only source of light in your tiny bedroom, but even despite the darkness, it still feels bright and homey, you spent a lot of time to create this bubble for yourself and though Harry’s gruff and edgy presence feels the farthest from your colorful life, he still somehow belongs here, in your life.
Rubbing your eyes you stand up and look for the cardigan you know you left on the chair in the corner. When you find it you wrap yourself into it tight and take a moment to mentally prepare yourself for whatever you’ll see. From what you heard, he wasn’t limping so that’s a good start, but you still know there’s a whole lot that could be terrifyingly wrong with him to make him come to you instead of his place.
The water has stopped running by the time you make your way out of the bedroom and over to the bathroom. Light is flowing out underneath the door and you don’t know before simply twisting the knob and opening the door, revealing Harry sitting in the bathtub, bent forward, his curls wet and brushed back, bruises covering his shoulders, back and jawline, his bottom lip busted open.
Repentance fills his glimmering eyes when he looks at you and you know what he would say if his pride allowed him to speak.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I want to be better for you, but it’s so hard.”
Walking over you kneel down next to the tub and cup his face with your palm, gentle and soft, not to hurt him and he melts into your touch in an instant. 
“I’m alright,” he rasps as you run your hand down his naked chest, over some of the bruises and you notice how he winces when your cold hand touches a vigorously dark mark on his collarbone. 
You’d do anything to free him from this dark world that keeps him as its prisoner, but ironically you know what kind of consequences one would have to endure to be set free and you fear those would take him from you forever. So every time you see the marks of this evil life on him, a piece of you dies. For him. 
“I’ll get you some pills,” you whisper and try to get up, but his hand grabs your arm, holding you back.
“Just… stay with me, please.” It’s a desperate plea you could never ignore, so you settle back onto the fuzzy rug next to the tub, one arm against his chest as he hugs it like a child, your thumb gently rubbing the side of his neck. But you don’t stay like that much longer. The urge to get closer to him grows unbearable, so you move to stand again and when you see the panic in his eyes you’re quick to calm him.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Hesitantly, but he lets go of your arm and watches you as you undress yourself and join him in the tub, sitting behind him so you can hug him from behind, your chest melting against his back as your heartbeats sync. 
His head falls back onto your shoulder while your lips pepper kisses onto his every once in a while, your hands gently running up and down his front, eager to feel the softness of his skin. 
“You’re way too sweet for me,” he breathes out.
“Haven’t we been over this?” you ask with a soft smile. He lifts his head and then turns it so he can look at you. 
“I feel like I’m ruining you.”
“Don’t act like it’s all on you. I made a decision too and I chose to be with you.”
“You made a mistake,” he whispers and you see something dark, something desperate take over his face for a moment, but you’re quick to bring him back to you, like you always do.
Soothing his hair back, you pull him closer so your lips meet for the softest kiss. 
“You could never be a mistake,” you whisper against his lips and you feel him inhale sharply before he kisses you, harder and needier and you’re happy to give him whatever he demands from you. 
You stay in the tub until the water gets too cold. Then you grab him a shirt and a pair of underwear he left at yours a while ago and you move to the bedroom. He finally lets you get him some painkillers and you tell him to get in bed when he tries to randomly fix the jammed drawer of your desk. He loves to play the handyman when he’s over, but now is definitely not the time for that.
“Okay, doctor, gotcha,” he chuckles cheekily as he shuffles over to the bed. He watches you with a smirk as you’re moving around, grabbing another blanket before joining him in bed.
“What?” you ask when he just keeps looking at you smugly.
“You take so good care of me, baby. You know, there is one more thing I think I need to feel better.”
Reaching over he hooks a finger into the front of your shirt, tugging it down teasingly. 
“Oh, really?” you arch an eyebrow at him.
“Absolutely.”
Instead of a reply, you move closer and press two fingers into a bruise on his shoulder just enough to make him wince and flinch back from the pain.
“I think you need to stay away from physical activities, that’s the doctor’s order,” you scoff.
“Fuck, there was nothing sweet about that, damn!” he grunts, making you laugh. 
“But you love it when I put you into your place, don’t you?” Grinning you scoot closer, his arm curling around you instantly.
“I do. Only you can do that,” he smiles down at you.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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drudyslut · 13 hours
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Your requests are open again! Also this says rafe but you can change it to jj if you want!
Anyways...Reader and rafe are dating and reader has birth control but still gets nervous it won’t work so they use condoms and they both want to be closer together/not have a condom between them (but do not want to risk it), so reader suggests him practicing pulling out (while wearing a condom) and after a few times he is able to control himself, so reader says she does not want to use a condom if he is okay with not using one so it is kind of romantic and their first time with nothing between them and they feel closer and more intimate, but when he is about to pull out reader says it feels too good and tells him not to and so rafe is like “I’m gonna cum, I can’t hold it baby” and practically begs him to just cum inside (and he is like what? Are you sure?) and reader is like “I don’t care. Don’t pull out”
omfffffg. this is hot🤤 also, i did switch it to jj, hope that’s fr okay🥺🫶🏻 this just gives jj vibes bc rafe be fuckin’ without a condom no matter what, man does not gaf.
CW: 18+ only! strong language, fem receiving oral, protected sex, eventual unprotected sex, cream pie, praise and degrading.
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“J, I’ve told you, let’s just practice your pulling out with a condom, and then I promise, once you can control yourself, we’ll go raw.”
You want to feel closer to him, feel all of him, as much as he does you. And even though you’ve been on birth control since the two of you started dating — two years — you’re too afraid it won’t be effective.
And the last thing you and JJ need is a baby. You’re not financially in a spot to support a child, so for now, you continue using the protective barrier.
JJ sighs. “You’re right, baby.”
You can’t help but frown. You understand how frustrated he is, you’re just as frustrated, but you’re just doing what you feel is best. You want to feel JJ raw, but you just cannot risk it right now.
“Wanna practice now?” You ask with a smirk on your lips.
JJ grins widely, showcasing his perfectly straight, white teeth. “Absolutely I do.”
He walks toward you, his large hands grabbing your thighs and lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, giggling when he slaps at your ass. “‘M gonna enjoy fucking you, taking out my frustration on you. Once I get my control, ‘m taking this sweet fucking pussy raw.”
The two of you reach his bedroom in the chateau, and he tosses you onto the bed, making you squeal and giggle uncontrollably. “Fuck me, JJ. Take your frustrations out on me. I can’t wait to feel all of you, so learn control fast.”
-
It’s been two weeks of you and JJ practicing his pulling out with a condom on. He’s finally ready, he finally gets pulled out perfectly, and you know he’s going to come to you soon about going raw.
“Baby, c’mon. I wanna taste you.”
You smile, taking a bite of the apple you’d grabbed out of the fruit bowl. “Mmm, I dunno baby. ‘M not really in the mood.” You joke.
JJ’s eyes narrow. He takes two long steps toward you, making you step back. Your back presses into the counter behind you, and his arms come to rest on the counter on either side of you, caging you in. He lifts his right hand, running it down the side of your face before he knocks your apple into the floor, making you gasp.
“I was eating that!”
He runs his hands down your sides, resting them on your hips. He tightly grips at your waist, lifting you and resting your ass on the countertop. “So? I wanna eat now. I’m starved baby.”
You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers find your exposed thighs, running them up slowly until they disappear under the soft fabric of your dress.
His fingers find your panties, running over the soaked material. “She’s already wet for me baby. Begging for my tongue and cock.”
Your hips buck off the counter, and a moan escapes your lips. He pulls your ass to the edge of the counter, and you place your hands behind you, supporting your weight and keeping yourself from falling.
He drops to a squatting position, tossing your legs over his shoulders and pushing your panties to the side. He runs his index finger through your arousal soaked core, gathering your arousal on his finger before removing it and bringing it to his lips, humming in approval. “Hmmm. So fuckin’ sweet, always baby. Like fucking honey.”
You moan loudly at the sound of his low and raspy voice, the dirty words making your pussy wetter.
“Shit! Stop teasing, J.”
He smirks, leaning his head forward and sinking his teeth into your inner thigh, making sure to leave marks. “J, please?” You beg, the feel of his tongue running over your inner thighs, licking over the fresh teeth marks, has you squirming.
“Such a needy little slut for me.”
He runs his tongue through your slick folds, slowly licking you from your entrance to your clit. Your entire body jerks when the tip of his tongue licks over your sensitive bud.
JJ’s tongue pushes inside your entrance, teasing you as he rubs lazy circles around your clit. He flattens his tongue, his head moving up and down as he devours your pussy. He pulls his head back, shoving two fingers inside you and sucking your clit into his mouth. He licks and sucks at your clit, fingers harshly pushing in and out of you until he has your entire body shaking.
“JJ-” you breathe out. “Fuck me, please”
He slows his fingers, letting your clit fall from his mouth with a pop. He removes your legs from his shoulders, standing to his full height and popping the button on his jeans, his zipper following quickly behind.
You stare down at his hard cock through your lashes, his right hand firmly gripping the base. He strokes himself softly a few times before he teases his head at your entrance. Your heart hammers in your chest, you’re about to feel all of him for the first time, and him feel all of you.
You let out a small whimper when he pushes his head inside. “Fuck, already feels s’much better baby girl, goddamn.”
He slowly sinks more of himself inside you, pushing each inch inside little by little until he fills you to the hilt. A loud moan is ripped from your chest when his swollen tip hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars.
JJ doesn’t move, his eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on the feel of your warm, wet pussy wrapped around him. “Fuck, baby. This pussy feels even better than I imagined, so wet and warm, gripping my cock like she was made for me.”
He begins to slowly pull himself out, his eyes watching in awe at how tightly your pussy gripped him, a creamy ring already formed around his cock.
You whimper as he slowly pulls himself from inside you, missing the feel of his thick cock inside you once he fully pulls out. You open your mouth to beg him to put it back in, but he’s harshly slamming back into you before the words come out, making you cry out his name as his tip nudges against your g-spot.
“F-fuck.. JJ, you feel so fucking good, so b-big! Oh, my God.”
JJ’s hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your soft, plump flesh as he brutally pounds himself into you. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my dick so well, look at how she grips my cock baby. All fuckin’ mine!” he grunts out breathlessly.
Your eyes wander down to where the two of you connect, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, pussy clenching around him tightly from how good it feels to finally feel all of him.
“J-JJ! Fuck, ‘m gonna… ‘M gonna cum! Go harder, please!” you beg, your hands finding his upper arms and gripping at them so hard you feel the skin break beneath your nails.
Your pleas for him to fuck you harder spur him on, his large hands gripping the underside of your ass and lifting you from the countertop. He stills himself inside you, steadying himself and making sure his hold on you is secure before he begins fucking up into you harder, faster.
The room is filled with the lewd squelching of your pussy, skin slapping against skin, and you and JJ’s moans mixing together. Your pussy tightens around him, a sweet tightness building in your lower belly as your orgasm nears. JJ can sense you’re close, his darkened over blue eyes finding yours, “Let go f’me baby. Make a fucking mess all over my cock, wanna feel you come undone around me.”
JJ’s words mixed with his harsh thrusts send you flying off the edge. Your pussy tightens, stars exploding behind your eyes as you come hard, soaking JJ’s cock and thighs. “Fuck! JJ, don’t stop, don’t… Don’t fucking stop!”
“‘M close, princess, gotta… Gotta pull out.” JJ says breathlessly.
You wrap your legs tightly around his waist, burying your face into his neck as your lips attack the skin with bites and kisses. “No! Don’t, don’t pull out, J. Just… Just keep going, shit!”
JJ’s mind goes foggy, hearing you beg him not to pull out was the hottest thing he’d ever heard, and honestly, he didn’t want to pull out, you felt too fucking good to stop. Sure, neither of you were thinking clearly, and he’d definitely have to find the money to buy you a plan B, but it was going to be worth it, to fill your pussy with his cum and watch it drip from your pussy.. Yeah, it was worth it.
His hips begin stuttering, his dick twitching as he thrusts himself up into you a few more times. He feels his dick swell inside you, twitching one final time before the hot ropes of his release spill inside you.
“Ffffuck, baby.” JJ groans, thrusting up one final time.
He sits you back onto the counter, slowly pulling himself from inside you and watching in awe as his thick, white cum leaks from your sensitive hole.
He grins, leaning forward and kissing your lips. “So beautiful when you’re dripping my cum.”
You let out a breathless giggle, your head falling forward as you whisper, “That was worth the wait.. We’re never going back to condoms, ever. ‘Kay?”
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jj taglist: @ivy-34 @thelomlisrafecameron @writingjjfics @always-reading @harrys-humble-housewife @maybankspov @immyowndefender @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lizcameron @moremaybank @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @thewitchesofart @unsaidjaelinrose @itsmytimetoodream @abbybarnesstuff @r1vrsefx @rafetopia @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @drewstarkeyslut @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @superlegend216 @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @anqeliclust @ratatioulle @pradabambie @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust0 @everydaydreamer @amournoir @romaescapes @tayrcse @andy-15-07 @rafescurtainbangz @joemama352
jj maybank masterlist | requests | taglist form
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acaaai-t · 2 days
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thinking about…
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stranger! xiao whom you encountered through a unexpected bank robbery one sunny afternoon. It definitely was love at first sight for you, especially after he had tackled you— a mere stranger to him at the moment— down to shield you from the stray bullets being fired. It was chaos amidst the environment, but all you could think about was how close he was to you… archons he’s pretty.
stranger! xiao whom you practically had to chase after after the entire ordeal just to get his contact information. He had first denied your approach, but you just seemed far too determined to give up so easily. “Sir please,” you begged. “You quite literally saved my life back there, the least I can do is repay you with something.” … “Fine.”
— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。!
companion! xiao who has a grumpy face on at all times no matter the situation. You had invited him out for lunch as a way to thank him for his heroic act couple days ago, and this would be your chance to properly introduce yourself to him. The weather was near perfect today with the temperature hanging around in the low 70’s (20°C) and the skies cleared of clouds. His intimidating expression was also enough to make you nervous, but you pushed through. “Hi! My name is [name], what’s yours?” … “… Xiao.”
companion! xiao who you took out on a little amusement park hangout on a bright sunny Saturday afternoon. You hadn’t been to one in forever, and considering the fact that both of you had nothing better to do today, you dragged Xiao out with you.
companion! xiao who went near deaf after agreeing to go on a rollercoaster with you— which was a poor choice. The ride was exhilarating, but if you hadn’t been screaming bloody murder throughout the entire ride, it might’ve been a better experience. “I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, hands clasped together in a praying motion. Xiao didn’t say anything. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. As an add-on to your apology, you treated him to a plate of almond tofu. Yeah no, he forgives you.
companion! xiao who gets an unwanted feeling of annoyance when he sees you occupied with someone else other than him. A stranger had stopped you to ask for direction to the nearest bathroom, and being the kind hearted soul you are, pointed to the map and gave the path to his destination. Too close, he thought. What? Why was he feeling like this? Is this what people called jealousy?
— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。!!
Xiao is in denial. He’s only known you for a month or two now, and feelings are beginning to worm its way into his heart. Unwarranted feelings that he wants no part of— yet it’s constantly in the back of his mind. You’re always on his mind. He can’t get you out, no matter what.
Your smile, your laugh, your mesmerizing beauty…
Archons, what is he meant to do now?
— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。!!!
lover! xiao who wrestled with his feelings for weeks on end before finally caving in to it. You were blabbering on about some drama unfolding at your workplace at a cafe he’d invited you out to when all of a sudden he stopped you. He couldn’t even pay attention to your words, for all he could do was stare at your lips moving. “Is there something wrong with my face?” you asked, fingers dragging across your cheeks. Xiao was quick to answer, giving a hasty ‘no’.
lover! xiao who kept stuttering his words when confessing his feelings to you. The sun had begun to set, and you had brought him to a secluded area of the woods, where there was a near perfect view of the sunset. Your heart was pounding so heavily against your chest— it felt like it could burst out at any moment. Although Xiao looked more of a hot mess than you did; his face crimson red.
“I.. I like— archons. Oh fuck it [name] I like you. Not as in just friends if you understand, you know what I mean right? No, it’s totally okay if you don’t like me back like—”
lover! xiao who you had to shut up with a kiss to his lips, arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer to you. He seemed to had to take a moment to register what had just happened, and when it did finally process, he kissed back— hard. Is he dreaming?
just lover! xiao being the epitome of you fell first but he fell harder.
— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。!!!!
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✩ ·┆ masterlist
notes—
— more xiao content coming soon
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© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate
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cosmos-coma · 1 day
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Glass Desks
A/N: Just a silly little scene I've had in my head for bit now since I work as an occasional house cleaner to try and get by. I got surprised by someone coming in on my last clean and just had to turn it into something.
Pairing: Mafia! Bucky Barnes x House Cleaner! Reader
Words: 1,055
Bucky Masterlist
Buy me a Coffee?
___________________
A sigh escaped Bucky as he ran a hand down his face. He was supposed to have meetings all day today- ones important enough that he’d rearranged everything around them- yet within the first two hours something had already come up and his associates were forced to reschedule.
“Hey, boss? We’re here…” Sam said from the driver’s seat, pulling him out of his thoughts and making him look up at the large empty house before him.
His empty house.
He wouldn’t trade his line of work for the world, truly, but between both the secretive and potentially violent nature of his job, it didn’t exactly leave much room for pleasant company. 
He sighed again as he stepped out, “Thanks Sam…. That should be all for today, but I’ll call if I need you.” He said and patted the roof twice before it pulled away. 
Making his way up the stairs toward the entrance, all seemed normal at first glance- that is until he spotted an unfamiliar car parked around the side. 
It was an old car, parked out of the way in the shade- not quite a beater- but they definitely didn’t make its model anymore. It was non-descript and would blend in with a crowd if needed, but more importantly: it wasn’t one of his. 
He moved toward the door with far quieter steps now, listening intently for the intruders. Multiple voices came from inside as if trying to talk over each other in layered tones. Chairs and doors clunked and creaked as they were moved about, followed by the moving voices- were people searching for something? 
Instinctively his hand found the gun in his jacket. ‘Sam didn’t say anything as he left… Did he really not notice the car? No-Sam was one of his best men… Maybe he already knew they were here..?’ Bucky thought.
Either way, he wasn’t taking any chances; his fingers closed around the gun’s handle as he cracked open the door, the weapon a comfortable and familiar weight in his hand. His steps were silent as he entered, their practiced paces unknown to anyone but him. 
However, instead of finding an enemy gang searching for secrets he found…. You. 
You were hard at work in your own little world as you went about cleaning the second floor. You bobbed and sang along to the music emanating from your back pocket, your voice layering over the original as the rags half tucked in your belt swayed with you. The mobster couldn’t help but crack a smile. 
He had completely forgotten. Usually, on days when he was meant to be out of the house for hours on end, you would be scheduled to come clean. But apparently, no one had informed you about the change of plans.
You had been hired on as his house cleaner a few months ago, helping him keep things together while work kept him endlessly busy. But despite having been on the payroll for a while now, he still hadn’t found the time to officially meet you- that is, until now.
He couldn’t deny that you looked… rather silly if he was being honest, but your unparalleled passion only made it all the more endearing. His head shook with a faint smile as he watched as you moved into his office. Shutting the door behind him with a soft click, he was halfway up the second-floor stairs when he heard you suddenly break away from your song. 
“Ugh…,” you sighed loudly to yourself, still thinking you were the only one in the room, “what kind of an asshole has a glass desk? I mean, really- Do you have stock in Windex? Is that what it is???” You asked snarkily to no one in particular, but this was too good for Bucky to pass up.
“Not yet. Should I?” The mobster found himself biting back his laughter as he leaned against the office doorway behind you. 
“At this rate? You should really-“Your mouth clamped shut faster than it ever had before, your entire body freezing on the spot as his response finally processed. Your eyes were wide as saucers as your thoughts ran on a panicked loop ‘Oh no, oh god, oh shit, oh fuck. you really just had to insult the infamous White Wolf of New York… In his own home… In front of his own men… Are you STUPID??’ you yelled at yourself internally and quickly put on a brave face, turning off your music and turning to the unfamiliar voice behind you.
Your stomach nearly dropped as you realized it was not only “one of his men” it was, THE man. You instantly recognized him from the few photos scattered around the house; the sharp stubbly jaw and blazing blue eyes were unmistakable, not to mention the hint of the metallic arm you caught between his suit sleeve and glove. You couldn’t deny he was handsome- even more so in person than he was in his photos.
“Mr. Barnes…!” Your voice squeaked out, but he just held his same amused smile, looking anything but upset. “I, uh… I thought you had meetings all day today- I didn’t mix up the date, did I..?”
“Not at all…” he said with a quiet laugh. “My meetings got rescheduled part way though, so I thought I’d spend the evening working from home. Little did I know it’d be the perfect place to get financial advice too.” 
Your face burned with embarrassment as you relived the very recent moment yet again, “Right, uh, about the whole ‘asshole’ thing, I-” 
But he simply waved you off, “Don’t. It’s refreshing to get an authentic opinion, and honestly? I don’t even like that desk.” He admitted, his heart stirring in new ways as your whole body relaxed and he could finally see you as you usually were, “and, ah… if you wanted to stay for a while, I sure wouldn’t mind the company- I could use a little advice in the stock market.”
You bit your lip to hold back your grin, you wouldn’t get too ahead of yourself, “Oh, me? I don’t know if I’d really be suitable company while I’m cleaning.” 
A thought seemed to pass over him then as he nodded in agreement, “Hm, you’re right..” he smiled, “Perhaps we should just have dinner then… how’s tonight?”
______
General Bucky Taglist:
@writingmysanity @simpxinnie @goldylions
If I missed or accidentally tagged you lmk! Wanna be added General Bucky taglist? Please ask/DM me!
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shippyo · 21 hours
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@kirbyoctournament
Introducing to you all,the only one and unique....
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Personality
She is extremely calm, she never seems to be bothered by anything, she is kind as much as she can be capable of saying something cruel, like life itself is, she always seems patient, because for her anything is ephemeral, even herself, but she will always be open to a conversation, she will advise you and will try to give her point of view about herself, always in a respectful manner.
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Powers
Life is ironically capable of taking life from other beings, to reincarnate them into a new being with her mere hands, usually looking like butterflies like her first daughter Morpho Knight.
She is capable to cast divine-looking lights,usually looks like a swarm of butterflies, although she won't attack in 99,9% of the times but the hundreds of her children will defend her.
Its mere presence is calming but its true form is unknown to common sense and if someone dared to see the beauty of life in its entirety, the impact it would have on your consciousness would be devastating, but with it, who knows, maybe it would be able to restore the unimaginable at the cost of resting for eons.
Life is capable of teleporting to any place in any universe, she never chooses a specific place, it enjoys walking and you can see her in the most beautiful fields of flowers or in the cruelest wars, you can consider yourself lucky to witness her, because it is practically a miracle.
And never mess with something beyond your comprehension cause only death can end all what she is.
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Canon characters she knows or knows that exist
Morpho
Her first daughter, before it was a different being who arrived by unknown means to the dimension of Life, she begged her not to send her to the afterlife, she didn't want that, the pain was so inmense due to her cruel Life that she just begged to stop existing, life, on the other hand, did something different and used its power for the first time in what became a being, completely new and at peace,Morpho has an unbreakable loyalty towards the being she now calls "mother"
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Necrodeus
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"Someone I loved? Or do i still love?"
The void
A being from the void reemerges from the heart, all always in a different way like Kirby or Zero himself, as if they were children yet to determine their destiny inside their mother or heart in this case, Life does not know them directly, it only knows that they exist and for some reason, she loves them, she feels a maternal sensation as if all those beings had been part of her at some point, although she can't explain why.
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Lore
[this part might not be that extense but cropping to not cluster everything,enjoy💖]
Once life was reborn, but before that, there was a life before, yes, a time when everything was different.
Once there was a woman in whom a new life was generated inside her, all on her wedding day on an now unknown place, butterflies fluttering, next to her pure white bone dress, walking towards who would be her husband, everything was complete happiness everything seemed to never end but...
At one point, when the husband was about to put the ring on the lady that would seal their love, something trembled and out of nowhere, everything broke into stardust, in the last seconds of pain and confusion, the lovers did not know that it was the end of everything known and unknown.
Life had died.
Or was it really like that?
Life woke up once again from...a dream? A nightmare? What was that even? Where was she now?
Is life really itself? She felt a pain that would gradually fade away along with the memory of what happened, at the same time another figure,the death itself also woke up where they were, they both looked at each other, they had never seen each other... like this?
But still they both felt a sense of nostalgia, something empty in them throbbed strongly, while memories of... themselves? or something that seemed like the they that they are now joined in their confused memories
" know you."
"But who were you?"
"Were we them? But who were we supposed to be?"
"Now, what are we?"
They both said, but neither could give an accurate answer.
And it didn't matter anymore.
A new everything emerged from nothing and they were part of that everything.
Life and death separated each one on their own for a long time searching, trying to know what they had to do, what it all meant, who those beings were.
until, one day after eons they met again to conclude that everything was nothing.
Nothing had meaning other than existing.
Nothing they could have experienced was eternal, they both came to the conclusion that everything would die to become a new whole again.
From their past memories they concluded that this was just a new phase in an eternal cycle without explanation, in which life would return only for death itself in its last seconds to kill her so that all of life would re-emerge as a new one when it was about to end and NEVER be the same as before.
And that couple, it may or may not have been them, it didn't matter, because they are no longer those entities and this will happen again and again, they are merely a new version of themselves of those they were and will be in the future.
It didn't make sense, nor did they both want that cruel fate, it's confusing, it's unfair,death even cried out of mere frustration.
But there was no escape, no being could escape it.
After this, now both beings try to find a filling for the void in their hearts, death wandering throught any universe and cursing "the all" for this meaninglessness, while life, still almost always remaining in her own dimension, a blank world that is in everywhere and nowhere, sometimes descends to any world that reaches the imagination wandering through them to perhaps find her own the meaning of life.
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circus-clangen · 1 day
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Hi!! Fellow clan gen comic creator here, i check your blog regularly and you are so fast with updates! And nothing looks rushed or messy (well, messy in a bad way, i know your style is sketchy and sort of glitchy which is why i like it) how do you keep everything so updated all the time?? I struggle makeing one comic in just a week.
ArE yOu A wIzZaRd???
HAHA so FULL disclosure for everyone reading this: My upload schedule is about to change because I'm moving in a week and am going to be searching for a job 😭
BUT to answer your question: I have ALWAYS drawn fast. From when I started art some 8 years ago, I had no trouble whipping out 4-5 drawings every day, sometimes more. DOESN'T MEAN THEY WERE GOOD but I just hit the ground running when it came to art. AND because of that, I've built up more line confidence, and have been able to teach myself to draw cleaner even as I draw faster. In 2021 I even made 1+ finished drawings every single day 😭 (here's that if you wanna see it). Also last February I drew one OC 69 times in like 20 days.... TLDR: I've always been this way, and so I've just kind of adapted to it. PLUS it helps that cats are faster to draw than people (in my mind; people are my primary subject matter) Here are some tips, if you Do wanna draw a little faster: 1. Nail down an art style, in general, and for each individual character. It's WAY easier to draw quickly if you already known how each part of the drawing is going to look (i.e. You draw eyes This way and you draw bangs This way and you shade skin This way and you use These colors)(I personally have one color pallet I use in every drawing)
2. If you can't clearly picture a drawing in your head going into it, let it marinate for a little longer, and come into focus. If you know down to the linework how you want your piece to look, you don't have to hesitate as much going into it.
3. FORGO the sketch, even if its just for practice! Try to draw your character starting with the lineart, thats what I do for my asks especially
4. Take breaks! Don't always force yourself to make art. Some of my best improvement happens after I've quit art cold turkey for weeks or months at a time. You draw faster when you're inspired and have a fresh, clear picture in your head Hope this helps!
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elonomhblog · 2 days
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journal prompts: for when you're feeling lonely
do you feel lonely all the time or in certain situations?
how have you dealt with similar feelings in the past? are you happy with how you handled it then? why or why not?
describe the difference between loneliness and being alone. if you don't see a difference, write about why that is.
take a second to pause and look inward. what other emotions piggyback off of loneliness? are you feeling frustrated, sad or anxious? write about what comes up.
would reaching out to other people make you feel less lonely? why or why not?
write a note to your loneliness without filtering yourself. what do you really want to say?
what advice would you give someone close to you when they are feeling lonely? do you feel like you could take your own advice? why or why not?
how do you talk to yourself when you feel this way? are you kind to yourself?
what does self-compassion mean to you? how can you practice it daily?
list five things you can forgive yourself for.
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jjkamochoso · 2 days
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Cold Hands, Warm Heart
Fluff
Rengoku Kyojuro x gn!reader
Reader has cold hands… do you think the Flame Hashira would stand for such an injustice?!
Warnings: none
You sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day, focusing your energy on hanging up the laundry in front of you. Your job as an assistant to Shinobu at the Butterfly Mansion was keeping you on your feet, busy as ever, but you still couldn't warm up. By all accounts, your hands shouldn't be as ice cold as they were since it was a mild spring day, but you had always had this problem so it just became a constant in your life. You tugged on your uniform sleeve in hopes of it reaching over your hands a bit more, but you found no relief in the thin fabric. Irritated, you finished your work and decided to stay outside for a short break, hoping that basking in the sun would help thaw your freezing phalanges. Looking around to see you were completely alone, you raised your palms toward the sky in an attempt to speed up the warming process. If anyone were to see you right now, they would most certainly brand you a fool. You relished the tepid air flowing around you, closing your eyes to allow for maximum relaxation-
"Y/N! HOW ARE YOU TODAY?"
Your eyes shot open as you yelped in surprise. The Flame Hashira had snuck up on you and practically given you a heart attack. If he took notice of your flustered state, he was too kind to mention it, instead beaming at you with a kind smile.
"Rengoku! You took me by surprise, I didn't hear you behind me. I'm doing alright, thank you. How about yourself?" You wanted him to take over the conversation for a moment so you could calm your breathing, your heart still racing from his unexpected arrival.
"I am doing well! I just came back from a mission and came here in search of something to ease my sore muscles." His usually unwavering gaze faltered a bit, looking to the grass you stood on for the shortest moment before landing on you once more. "I also wanted to see you."
It was a shock that you were cold before because now it felt like your whole body was on fire after hearing Rengoku's words. Was he just being friendly? Or did he hold some sort of romantic feelings toward you? You would be content either way but truly wished it was the latter. You had a crush on the man for many months now but were too shy to make your affections known, too afraid of losing your close bond of friendship.
"That's very kind of you. Is there something in particular you wanted to see me for?"
Rengoku took a step toward you, shortening the gap between you but not enough to invade your personal space. "No. I just enjoy your company very much. I would like to spend some time with you before I have to leave for another mission. That is, if you'll allow me to take up your time, of course."
You couldn't believe your ears. This handsome man desired to get to know you better? You were beyond flattered and definitely weren't going to turn him down.
"You are the most pleasant company I could ask for, Rengoku. Please, take a seat on this bench with me and rest for a bit." He followed your lead and sat next to you, your legs touching ever so slightly.
He was the first to break the comfortable silence that had fallen between you. "May I ask what you were doing when I first joined you? It looked like you were worshipping the sun. If so, I would like to learn about this custom and partake in it myself!"
You couldn't hold in the laugh that escaped your lips. "Oh, no, no. It wasn't anything like that. My hands were extremely cold so I thought that the closer to the sun they were, the warmer they would get."
He nodded in understanding like it was the most normal thing on earth for a person to reach for the sky like a desperate flower. You were glad Rengoku was the one to find you in such a silly position because he was never one to judge people for things like that. He approached most situations with an open mind and willingness to learn, traits which you found admirable.
"Have they found their warmth?"
You shook your head and he gestured his own hands toward yours. "May I?"
You tentatively brought your hands in front of you and Rengoku, with the lightest amount of force possible, scooped them into his grip. You were immediately met with a cozy feeling emanating from his skin, heat finally entering your body. Rengoku's touch was astonishingly gentle for a man of his stature and status as one of the best demon slayers. Though you knew of his benevolent disposition, it wasn't your first thought that the hands of someone who's seen such horrendous things and taken so many lives (all justified, of course) could be this soothing, or... loving, almost. As he held your hands, the look on his face could be described as nothing less than full of serenity, like you two were lovers reuniting and expressing your fondness for each other. Slowly but surely the icy chill dissipated from your fingers but the feelings that were left behind in its wake were harder to figure out. Actually, maybe it wasn't so difficult after all. You had never seen Rengoku treat anyone like this before. Sure, he was overly friendly to his allies, but he never initiated physical touch like this. Beside the fact, he could clearly tell your hands had warmed up and yet was still holding on like you were a floating piece of driftwood and he was drowning in a stormy sea. You were reluctant to let go, too. You had never felt so safe, so protected, in your entire life and it didn't have to do with the fact that he was a Hashira.
"Y/N, would it be alright if I confess something to you?" Rengoku asked, his red and yellow eyes glinting in the sunlight and making your heart skip a beat.
"You can tell me anything," you replied earnestly.
He took in a steadying breath before starting. "Over the years we have known each other, you have been a wonderful friend. You're reliable, smart, and kind hearted. However, lately I find myself thinking of you in different terms. I take notice of how your eyes sparkle like stars when any source of light touches them. I envy the rain as it falls upon your soft skin. Even now, as we are surrounded by nature's most beautiful work, this scene pales in comparison to you. You have bewitched me, ensnared my soul. Would you grant me the great honor of being your partner?"
"Oh Kyojuro," you said, softly smiling, "How I've waited for the day to hear those words come tumbling from your lips. You are the sun to my moon and the only man to have ever captured my heart. It will be a privilege to be loved by you."
You felt his hands squeeze around yours a little tighter in reassurance as you exchanged lovesick grins. You hated your cold hands for many years but now, with the Flame Hashira by your side as a personal heater, you would never have to worry about it again.
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celestialwhoree · 11 hours
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𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧 𝐆𝐨 - 𝟔
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You're not sure whether asking Nikto how he worked out what your favourite foods are is a good idea. Realistically, you know that men in his field are required to be perceptive, to pick out the smallest of details which may be useful later. He's been in your house so many times, in your fridge for a left over slice of pie, or the less that you can barely consider a garage to grab whatever tool he'd needed to fix your wobbly fencepost. On the one hand, his awareness of you, what you like and dislike, is comforting. It feels safe to have someone so constantly tuned in on your frequency. Safe. On the other? Having someone so impossibly attentive to your needs is unsettling. It's been far too long since you've had someone shadowing your day-to-day life - and Nikto is, undeniably, like a shadow.
The picnic is - it's really sweet. Well intentioned. The execution, admittedly is rudimentary, but you're just splitting hairs. A guy set you up a picnic after you practically sucked off his face in your kitchen. You're pretty sure most would've run had they felt the sheer reverence, the need in your kiss. He fixed your fence.
Now you're sat rather awkwardly beside one another, picking at a strange assortment of cheeses and fruits, making stilted conversation as you watch a herd of cows graze a couple of fields down.
"How did you know my fence was broken?" You hum in an absent, obvious attempt to keep the conversation going. Tough considering you barely know anything about Nikto, and yet he seems to know everything about you. Your weak endeavour towards filling the stillness between the two of you obviously doesn't go unnoticed - nor does the way your make an effort to dig deeper and see just how much of you Nikto actually catches.
"You hit it with your car a few weeks ago." He states bluntly, leaving you flushing a beet red. Foolishly, you'd always believed that your sub-par driving skills were just imagined, that no one saw you the way you saw yourself. Clearly, you've been wrong all along.
"You do have your drivers license, yes?" Nikto continues to chide, unable to help the way his blood rushes south when you blush, fluttering your lashes as you avert your gaze to the strawberry you'd been just about to eat. "Mhm." You mumble, trying to feign an indignant look - futile, seeing as he's already caught you in the act of your embarrassment.
"I can help you if you would like." Nikto utters, before he too turns his burning face towards the gingham blanket he'd found whilst trawling the grocery store in the small hours of this morning, trying to be as prepared as possible for your date. He's far too quickly become accustomed to your little quirks and reactions, the way you flinch like a frightened bunny from loud noises, or worry at your lip when you're nervous but still trying to seem nonchalant. You're hardly ever nonchalant about anything. He sees that too. "Is it the car that you struggle with?" He tries, so desperately, to claw himself from the hole he's seemingly fallen into, painfully aware that he's probably coming off as some condescending, patronising prick. He knows you can drive. Kind of. However, the thought of helping you, spending time with you, taking all of the menial tasks of daily life out of your hands, he can't help but to yearn for it. Or maybe it's just you. You're the one thing he finds himself wanting for after a life of solitude. You, your silly little shoes, and strawberry flavoured lips, your bows and pearls. You with a smile so bright it's blinding, and a laugh that could bring the cruelest of men to his knees. You are what he yearns for. The silver lining to the rainclouds which have so long darkened his days. You, you, you.
He doesn't even realise you'd been talking until you stop. Only, of course, to take the next best course of action towards capturing his attention, shuffling towards him until you're sat flush against his side, blinking up at him with a look that clearly suggests that you're asking for permission. The fact that he doesn't get hard right then and there is a miracle - though he's not sure if it's one that'll last. At least, not when you finally work up the guts to crawl up into his lap like a needy cat, searching for attention by any means possible. Last week he was barely refraining from tearing your clothes off and taking you on the counter in your kitchen. This is far more intimate. This is what he wants.
He wants to see the way your cheeks flush pink when his hands slide up your skirt, just enough to brush the calloused pad of his thumb over the delicate lace of your underwear. With bated breath, he wants to watch the way the late afternoon sun turns your hair into a halo of molten metal, cascading from the crown of your head in some glorious inferno.
The little sound of your breath hitching as he noses at your jaw is only the first nail in the cruelest of coffins, burying him alive under the crushing weight of his adoration for you. This, he thinks, this is what he's waited for. This is both his reward, and his punishment for the toil of his career, of his life. His reward, you, so sweet and soft in his lap, pliable as gold, glittering as the brightest of precious stones. Breaking you, breaking your pretty, trusting heart, is entirely out of the question. He'd rather shoot himself in the kneecaps. Walk headfirst into enemy territory and beg to be tortured. Step on a landmine. Any and all of it would be better than seeing you hurt.
Whilst he can't find the words for the way he adored you, he can most definitely find the actions.
Nothing, no man, has ever made you feel the way you do as Nikto eases you to lie back on the picnic blanket, hooking your knees over his shoulders. A kiss to your inner thigh. "I hope you don't mind people hearing, Princess. I intend to make you scream."
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khaire-traveler · 1 day
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🪻 Subtle Hyakinthos Worship 🌱
Pick flowers; press or dry them
Start a garden; tend to a plant
Grow your own herbs or produce
Keep a picture of him in your wallet
Wear jewelry that reminds you of him
Get a candle that reminds you of him (no altar needed)
Make a flower crown, especially with Laurel leaves included
Drink an herbal/flower tea (SAFELY!!!); add some honey to it
Support environmental preservation or LGBT rights organizations
Have imagery of swans, flowers, hyacinths, an iris or larkspur (sources believe one of these are the original flower mentioned in myth), the sun/sunlight, or rebirth (maybe spring) around
Have a stuffed animal swan or any animal you associate with rebirth
Express yourself in little ways if you can't be fully open; a bracelet that represents your gender, pride flag colored shoelaces, etc.
If you have a partner, buy or pick flowers for them; buy or pick flowers for yourself
Pick up trash in your environment
Try spring cleaning; tidy up your space
Take a self-care bath/shower, especially with herbs or flower petals
Make a list of things that made you smile throughout the day/week, big or small
Talk a walk/hike in nature; walk through a field of flowers or an area with lots of flowers
Put up a sugar water feeder for pollinators, such as hummingbirds, butterflies, and bees
Fall asleep/meditate to the sounds of nature - bird songs, forest ambiance, etc.
Take regular breaks from screens; be sure to get some fresh air
Learn about the local flora
Try foraging (SAFELY!!!)
Practice compassion towards others as well as yourself
Donate fresh fruits and vegetables to soup kitchens and homeless shelters (if the shelters accept perishables)
Get some movement throughout your day, even if it's just stretching your muscles
Eat three meals a day; try to eat well if able
Stay hydrated; drink lots of water
Take your medications, if any
Try herbal/natural remedies for MINOR health problems; stomaches, headaches, sore throats, etc.
Take some time to bask in the sunlight
Get accustomed to the idea of change; without change, we cannot progress
Keep a self-love and self-growth journal; write about your feelings (positive and negative), treat yourself with understanding, write ways you've changed throughout the month, etc.
Engage in comforting activities after a hard day; engage in self-care
Engage with childhood media; get in touch with the younger part of yourself
Get comfortable with the idea of growing older; to be human is to grow old; to grow old is not a bad thing
Be kind to children; play with them if offered
Dance/sing to music, especially music that makes you feel free, wild, young, or happy
Recycle when you can; try to make/use your own compost
Leave flowers on graves (ask permission from the cemetery first!!!)
Make your own cookies, pastries, breads, etc.; try to use natural ingredients
Give out handmade pastries, cookies, breads, etc. to loved ones and those in need
Try to ground yourself in nature; stand in a green landscape with bare feet (if safe); focus on the fresh air coming into and out of your lungs, the peaceful sounds near you, etc.
Be gentle with yourself, especially if you're having a difficult time; treat yourself as you would treat a loved one - someone extremely near and dear to your heart
Open your windows, blinds, curtains, etc. on a sunny day; let the light or fresh air in
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This is my life of discreet ways to worship Hyacinthus! I found this list a bit challenging, mostly due to the stress I'm dealing with offline, so I'll likely make edits to it in the future. In the meantime, I hope someone finds this helpful! Take care! 💜
Link to Subtle Worship Master list
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rin-and-jade · 2 days
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Welcome to the World! : A Starting Guide for Alters
This guide's purpose is to help either new formed/split, or those recently risen from dormancy, or the unregistered/unrecognized alters to get one step closer to functioning at the outside world!
It'll be one long rundown, click below to start right away, see you on the flip side.
From here on, what will be mentioned are things to assess some potential problems, questions, and self-discovery prompts. It is recommended to follow the flow of the guide, but if you necessarily need to skim to a certain section, this table of contents will help you:
table of contents
The beginning - Introduction
Things to look out for - potential problems to assess - Mobility - Gender & Species unalignment - World confusion
Starters - self discovery questions
How a system works - lite educative version
Closing - last notes + extra materials
The beginning
Nice to see you here, in the flip side! Now i know you have lots of questions on hand right now, and why you might be reading this as first thing's first; it's because i am here to help prepare yourself in many different aspects that cannot be learnt/figured out in such a short amount of time unless it is assisted with an experienced person.
If you haven't know what's going on up to this point, along with the kind of situation you're in, first off, you're a system.
Yes, thats right, system is a word for a collection of many parts within one body and you are also a part of it. This can mean you'll hear other kinds of accent inside head, and feeling + liking fully different things, as well as possessing different levels of certain skills and memory. More or less, this belongs to the qualities of a Complex Dissociative Disorder,, where there are types like DID, OSDD, Polyfragmented, etc.
This happens because of how dissociation can wall up barriers between other facets of yourself that stops some level of communication or complete it's integration when bad things happen in early years, leaving them mainly separated and self-autonomous; they're known as 'alters' but i personally love calling them as 'parts' or some might go with words like 'headmates' or 'facets' or even 'members'.
This isn't enough to explain the disorder itself, but i hope it suffices in explaining your situation! Feel free to check some extra system details if your gang has one, let's get to the next section.
Things to look out for
Just a quick warning and a reminder, if you are rather new or have not been actively out,, there is a high chance of having issues with limb coordination, control, and balancing. Other than that, the off-putting sensations you feel such as wrong type of species, height, gender, or even the world being foreign from how you perceive it can make things scary and overwhelming.
Fear not, as i also have the solutions for all these:
Handling poor mobility: First off, take a good moment to recognize your length of the arms, legs, learn the shape of your palm and fingers, and to every corners of your body. Start holding some simple objects like mugs or pens, remember how it feels to grab something with your fingers and gauge your grip strength, experimenting when you squeeze or loosen it. Then start interacting with the objects with both your hands, attempt to twirl it, or hold it in different positions and turns. You can also go for a test walk and sway all your joints to get a better picture of your movement range, practice makes perfect in easing your balance and momentum, it is normal to stub or be wobbly or clumsy at first, so take it easy okay?
To manage unalignment: It is hard to feel comfy if it is not the right height, especially for non-human aligned parts, so using props or any equipment or accessories can give you some sense of comfort (you can even walk on toes if you do need to feel a bit more tall, but don't over do this). Since fully eradicating this is impossible, doing anything in your power to lessen the discomfort is the best thing you can do,, there are also phantom limbs which basically means the extra body parts you identify with does not exist. This can be remedied by applying some gentle pressure to think that it is attached to your main body or use your imagination to satisfy that missing limb. for those not being aligned with the gender, if the body is feminine but you are masculine; try investing or search for a binder. If a binder is out of reach, wearing oversized, or baggy clothes, or hoodies will do the trick. And a boyish clothing style and short hair style if possible too. If its masculine in a feminine instead, using more girly oriented clothing style and do your nails, or any activities that affirms feminine aligned gender. I am very sure there are silicon chest pads but not in terms of where it is being sold at, so try to find them if it's available in your area. When neither and is androgynous instead, try searching for gender neutral clothes that are also neutral colored like grey/black/brown. There are many inspirations of this type of fashion so use the internet to gain inspirations on making your own androgyny look, you could even use make up to contour your shape of face. Now, for the ones who walk in hind-legs, get some platform heels/shoes/sandals/boots. You can find a flat one or the slanted one to match your needs. The idea is the slanted part of the shoe and the thick base gives an impression of canine/feline foot balance and for those who have hooves, respectively. (honestly, paw printed socks will do too, i hope) Lastly, to manage claws, or fangs, try using fake nail art of your color, or attach a fake vampire teeth guard, respectively. For symbolic means, you can even consume foods that are juicy and red, like meat cooked in medium,, or if you want the more vegan option: watermelons, or gummy that represents meat or grubs or just by being red to represent blood.
Getting used to the world Start learning how technology works--phone, laptop, kitchen tools, vehicle if any, and anything else that are often used. Make sure you practice enough to easily operate them, and learn how to use the internet and helpful plural apps or websites such as Lighthouse or start using Simply Plural. Try many foods to enhance culinary awareness, identify lots of other objects and the geography of your area to navigate and understand better. Touch many kinds of materials to train your sensory processes. You could also invest in watching shows and try a variety amount of activities to deepen your understanding of life. Explore different kinds of subject that you are particularly interested on, and lastly, never be afraid to do and try new things! This will guarantee you to seamlessly function with anything the world has to offer.
For starters - Self Discovery
Do you have a name?
do you what's your age?
What's your gender?
What are your pronouns?
Do you remember anything, and how much?
Do you seem to retain some past knowledge?
Can you describe what you look like? (Includes species)
Do you find the outside world familiar or foreign?
Can you state your bio name, family, or any important info?
Is it possible to describe yourself identity/vibe wise? (crucial part to tell apart fragments from splits and from holders that do not embody a personality)
What role could you fit as? (a host, protector, etc. Search for alter roles)
Do you like the outside world? Will you have a chance of being out more often? (to gauge how often one will front)
Have any likes and dislikes or preferences/hobbies?
For the bullet points you couldn't answer, take this as a sign to start searching! It will take some time, but you can ask help from anyone and even me when needed.
How a system works
A system works in communication (be it internal or external) and switches that also often have a specific trigger to call out someone else. Sometimes, though not a must, will have an innerworld that facilitates as a place for everyone to meet and interact.
These things are crucial for cooperation, because you'll definitely need that in order to navigate the world and adapt accordingly.
Communication
There are many kinds of communication styles, sometimes a mix of some or have all of the above,, whatever style you have, make sure to use it to the maximum. There are: via images, via abstract vibes, via emotions, or via direct (verbal) internal thoughts. Some do not have any internal communication, so external ones would be things such as keeping notes or write in a diary or any app for text editing.
Keep in mind that the clarity of communication fluctuates due to various factors, stress as one of them. So it is important to know that it will not work in a constant 100% at all times, use this awareness to strategize if, somehow, you have lost contact with the others.
Trigger & Switches
It is something that elicits a feeling that belongs to a part, which in return, can 'wake' or call one to co-con or front. There are negative and positive charged triggers, and i suggest you to explore what are your potential triggers.
The relationship with trigger and switches is, depending on how strong it is, can cause a switch to happen, where you will be swapped out by another one who got 'called' upon. This mechanism is for adapting to different kinds of situations, and these certain triggers are the key to ensuring the right part handle it's respective job as needed.
Switches can be very subtle, or slow, or obvious, or in a snap. This fully depends on how your system is made to handle problems on hand or when in stress, as sometimes it can cause rapid-switching, or the opposite, being stuck or locked in front. Sometimes, they also cause physical symptoms.
System terms - Basics
Fronting - the alter who has full control of the body, and performing tasks. Co-front - the alter, who have awareness between the outside and inside world, as well as able to control the body though not as complete as the fronter. Co-conscious - the alter who have awareness of the outside world, and spectates, and does not have any direct control of the body. Passive influence - when an alter's specific traits or likes/dislikes leaked to others and/or at front, that changes the initial reaction to be more blended with the other one. E.g. A like fries, B is there and likes spicy sauces. So now, A is craving to eat the fries with something spicy, even if A has no interest when it comes to spiciness or sauce.
For closing
Practice makes perfect, this is everything you need to know to hone your knowledge before finally stepping outside with complete freedom, where you can start anywhere you'd like, and to resume your collective's path to functionality and well-being. It's okay if things didn't go well at first try, and remember to reach out to people who you could trust as it'll help you progress faster!
I am aware that this guide still have a lot of room for improvement, so any requests or feedback will be added here for future viewers! This guide will be subjected to constant updates with even more sections being discussed on, or added touch of details. I will also add on my own posts here to serve as additional knowledge that is related to this topic:
Types of amnesia
Are you a Shard, Fragment, or Alter
Types of subsystems
Front-stuck, and how to deal with it
Physical switches
Comorbidity
Being blurry
Starters to system foundations
How comorbidity affects plurals (ADHD & Autism)
Dealing with the sense of faking
The person who needs to give their back a break, - j
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holdinbacksecrets · 4 hours
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your writing makes me feel safe, thank you. if i could request something? it’s totally ok if you aren’t comfortable but i was wondering how you think seventeen would react seeing their s/o’s self harm scars? but not the act of doing it; i’ve just been feeling a bit unworthy because of my own from my past and my mind wandered (but absolutely no worries if this is out of your comfort zone. i know self harm scars can be a trigger for sure (and you don’t have to reply in that case either)) <3 thank you either way
thank you for sharing kind words and requesting! i'm sorry for taking over a year to answer this... hopefully you still see this >.< i also hope my interpretation of your request is ok. sending you all my love 🥺 i hope you’ve been feeling better these days. you’re deserving of all the good things
seventeen: seeing your self harm scars for the first time
tw: mentions of self harming (no details of the act itself) and scars
seungcheol: he’d trace them with his lips, allowing his love to sink into the scars and caress their edges. he’d ask if they still hurt—if the memories are still piercing
jeonghan: “you turned your scar into a butterfly?” “yeah, it always made sense to get a tattoo, and it’s a reminder that pain and discomfort are fleeting. i’m never stuck.” “you’ve always had a thing for flying, haven’t you?” “yoon jeonghan, i’d exchange my arms for wings if i could.” “you’ll need me for so much more than reaching things on the highest shelf.” “you’re right… not the most practical idea.”
joshua: walks with you through the park after seeing the small x on the kitchen calendar, marking the passage of another year, and the feeling is overwhelming as painful memories flood your mind
jun: “so these aren’t from a bike wreck?” “i can’t believe you remember that…” “everything you tell me… i can’t forget anything.” “it was only our second date. i didn’t want to scare you away.” “you wouldn’t have, but i understand why you worried. i wish you didn’t have to.” “what do you think you would’ve said? would’ve thought?” “i would’ve admired you. i can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to share with anyone, let alone a person you just started dating. i would’ve felt honored that you trusted me with something so… intimate, something that leaves room for conclusions being made that you aren’t in control of.”
soonyoung: he asks if you’re ok now and immediately wonders if that was too simplistic of a question, but he means it. he wants to know if you wake up and feel peace or dread. he wants to know about the cracks in your smile. he wants to know if you’re proud of yourself now. if you were before. if he can do anything to make the dreadful moments with forced smiles easier
wonwoo: thank you for being here is the last thing you hear before drifting off, carried away by a current of warm dreams
jihoon: he cries for you and his childhood friend with similar scars. a man he hasn’t seen in years but thinks about the last week of every october—reminded of his birthday, hoping he’s celebrating well
seokmin: he holds you. he doesn’t want to let go until his tears have stopped. he doesn’t want you to know that the thought of you harming yourself pierces his heart, stops his breath, stays heavy on his shoulders, and keeps him awake while you sleep
mingyu: he wants you to know that no feeling you meet will ever scare him away. you don’t need the reminder, but he tells you anyway: you can always come to me. he will be your solid ground, the maker of comforting words and sweet distractions
minghao: will you believe him if he says you’re the strongest person he knows?
hansol: he doesn’t know what to say, and he’s suddenly afraid of his ability to support you. he hopes you can’t tell because this moment isn’t about him. the last thing he’d ever want is for you to turn to another if he’s unable to give you what you need. “it’s ok. you don’t have to have the perfect words. they don’t exist. i just want you to know. i’m so much better now. i’ve never been happier, truly, but the words were starting to itch and pull me out of present moments. summer’s coming, and i know you’ll see them soon. i just want you to know.”
seungkwan: so many questions roll around in his head. they stick to the back of his throat, and he searches your eyes for any signs of the capacity you have for sharing in this moment. you smile softly and offer a nod of encouragement. he takes a deep breath and asks the first one
chan: “do you ever…” “think about doing it again? i do, but i made a list of things to do instead.” “can i hear it?” “make tea, watch the sky, turn music on, call a friend, think about something yummy to make for my next meal, ride the train and stop as close as i can get to the library… i have a playlist of seventeen videos on my phone too.” “you’ve thought about it that recently? y/n…” “i didn’t make the playlist for that purpose alone. it started out of missing you, but i know it’ll help if i start to slip.” “you can always call me. call me first and call again if i don’t answer.”
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crimsonhydrangeavn · 15 hours
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I got a question for Garrett, what would happen if MC decided pamper him
Like complimenting him daily
Telling him to rest and spend time
Reminding him he's enough and that perfection isn't always the answer and that MC fell in love because who he truly is and not the one he shows outside of Saint Anne
Instead of going out to dinner, making home cooked meals and etc.
And also help him get the proper help he really needs. That poor baby needs a hug ;-;
Oh my, this is literally the sweetest ask ever! Just the thought of you taking the time to try and heal Garret warms my heart! So much so I'll can't help but share a few little spoilers about his past. I'll make sure to mark them so you don't accidentally spoil yourself if you don't want to!
Honestly, I think Garret's initial reaction would be to happily accept the compliments, home cooked meals, and quality time chalking it up as what a "healthy" relationship should look like. That being said, he would absolutely spoil you and reciprocate all of those sweet and loving gestures.
When it comes to the positive affirmations and being told that he doesn't need to be perfect... well it'll take some time for him to fully believe your words.
At first he'd think your just being kind and saying what expected of wonderful life partner. However, once it sunk in that you were being genuine and you actually meant it... He'd have a really difficult time accepting it.
SPOILER STARTS BELOW
Garret was raised to be his parent's golden only child. That being said, nothing he did was ever enough for his parents. Straight A's? Why not straight A+'s? You won first place in a race? Why aren't you competing in the nationals? What's that? You won a national competition? Why didn't you beat the previous record? Oh you did? Well you need to focus on other extracurriculars if you want to get into the same Ivy league school your father went to. Nothing he did was ever enough for them, however he was far better than his classmates when it came to nearly everything. Grades, athletics, extracurriculars, looks, body, social acumen, etc. All of the girls in his private school wanted to be with him and all of the guys wanted to be him.
However he never saw any of them to be worthy of his time, not until you came along that is...
END SPOILER
The thought of someone like you, the object of ALL of his affections, believing that he's worthy? That he doesn't have to run several miles a day and practically starve himself to maintain his model-esque figure? That he doesn't have to spoil you in riches beyond your wildest dreams?
It'll be a lot for him to understand and accept. However, once he finally believes your sincerity, the poor guy cling onto you and will break down into heart-wrenching sobs.
Finally, finally someone accepts him. Not for the perfect mask he's been trained to wear from a young age, but actually loves and accepts him for who he is on the inside.
And it's not just anyone. It's you. The one he adores, the one he's been completely and hopelessly devoted to since he first saw you, the only one that truly matters.
He would be a completely wreck, but with your patience and kind words he might actually have a shot at healing himself and actual redemption.
Of course, that'll all depend on your actions in and outside of game. ; )
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jo-harrington · 1 day
Text
Gratia. (An As Above, So Below Story)
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Gratia. Charitas. Solamen. Grace. Charity. Peace. The oath of the Knights of the Holy Order.
Summary: You and Eddie-- separated by time and endless suffering--don't realize how many strings keep you connected on the web of fate. What players are there trying to cut those strings? And when will you both find out that they are unbreakable?
Word Count: 2.1k
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!OC (The Knight - Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)
Warnings/Themes: Soulmates, Kas!Eddie, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Minor Character Deaths, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Supernatural Encounters, Religious Elements, Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References
Note: So...originally this was going to be one long thing. A tale about the Knight and Eddie and their unbreakable bond. And I wavered about how relevant it would be to the larger story. How relevant are any of these blurbs to the larger story? But if there's anything I've learned writing AASB, it's that I'm really writing the whole thing for myself. And after finding myself in an odd state of grief that kind of just keeps getting worse over the weekend, I know that this little fic...and the two that follow...really are only going to just be for me to help me get through it, so I need to be true to myself and write them anyway. **So if you do read this, please know it can be read in tandem with As Above, So Below. And you should have at least read the Prequels, with maybe some bonus points for Genesis. Iif you've read the Hymns, this is set before Nachzehrer.**
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
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“God is a comedian playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh.” ― Voltaire
November 10, 1986
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you."
"She's not suffering anymore. Tranquilla."
"Thank you, I know. She's been sick for a long time. She's at rest now."
"Mom brought mostaccioli. And chicken cutlets. She's setting it up in the other room then she'll be over. You should get some, you need to eat."
"I'll be alright, thank you for coming."
Today was the final day that you would spend with your Nonna.
Well, a more accurate description was that they let you have it.
Let you.
Let you have one day to sit on that stiff funeral home sofa. To stare at her, unrecognizably still in her casket, as friends and neighbors swarmed to offer their condolences. To mourn with you.
But somehow also separately from you.
And tomorrow, after she was behind a cold slab of marble, you'd be off again. Creeping closer to your own death until one day you might be placed in a plot adjacent to her.
Together.
But not really.
If there was anything left of you.
It wouldn't do to think of that today though.
Today, you would sit here. Enjoy your break and bask in the remnants of her soul that still lingered in and around her body.
It brought you some comfort to feel it move the way she did.
It danced like she danced around the kitchen, the boundaries of it crinkling like the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. A phantasmic remnant of her lovingly worried gaze was on you every now and again, creating the urge to say "I'm ok Nonnie." To lie to her, like you always did. And whenever one of her friends knelt their own aging bodies to pray at her side, you could practically see the softness of her cushion their jagged edges, comforting them.
You didn’t dare go up yourself though.
Not yet.
Not unless you wanted the Funeral Director to haul you out of the casket because somewhere deep down you just wanted to crawl into it with her and scream,
“Take me with you. Don’t leave me like I left you.”
Because you were not ok.
You closed your eyes as a phantom hand touched your shoulder, as it attempted to soothe the pain deep inside you but only managed to stir up another kind of pain. Another kind of mourning.
If only he was really there, you could ask him to take you with him too. Take you away from here to wherever he and Nonna would wait for you.
An impossible request.
The weight of the sofa shifted beside you and you opened your eyes. You expected to find Fortunata or Antoinette—two of Nonna’s closest friends who could claim a spot beside you if they truly wanted—but instead you found Gabriel’s stiff inhuman posture and expressionless face staring ahead of him at the casket.
“You could have helped her,” you said instead of a greeting. What good would a greeting do? “Healed her.”
You briefly wondered if you'd imagined the corner of his mouth quirking before he spoke.
“And if I told you I had? If I spared her a worse fate? Lessened her pain? Lessened yours?”
“I wouldn’t believe you.”
“Then I won’t tell you.”
You turned back to watch the casket with an unsatisfied hum.
Time passed and you sat silently together as you fought to keep your emotions in check with Gabriel's presence. You weren't nervous, per se; more annoyed. Angry, even. Questioning why he was here on this day out of all days.
All your life, you explained away his presence as a guardian. Unseen and unknown to everyone but you. He used to protect you or so you could recall, but as you got older that seemed to stop.
And he was more of a harbinger of doom than a deterrent of it.
Well, not doom.
Fate.
Or God's will or some shit like that. You didn't know anymore. Didn't care. You only cared about getting to the finish line. Freeing your soul of this curse. Getting your prize.
Heaven. Home. Peace with the ones you loved.
With Nonna.
With Eddie.
So if Gabriel was here, it meant something was about to happen. Something unsavory. Something...
You blinked and he disappeared from your peripheral vision suddenly, and just beyond the space he had previously occupied, stood a man in a black cassock.
Jinette approached you but you didn't give him the satisfaction of your attention until he said your name and offered his condolences.
"May I sit?" he gestured beside you.
"Seat's taken," you responded coldly.
"Ah, your mother, yes," he nodded in realization, and you watched him pull a chair up from one of the rows behind you.
You wouldn't be the one to tell him that your mother hadn't shown her face since you arrived back in Chicago late last night. She had done her duty, arranged the funeral and called you home. Beyond that her obligation was almost over; she could be free.
There had been a brief moment between the two of you when you let yourself into Nonna's flat and found her at the table surrounded by paperwork and old pictures, and you thought for the briefest second that this might be a turning point. That she might exhume whatever love she used to have for you, buried so deep in her heart, so you wouldn't have to mourn alone.
Instead she said she was sorry, then kissed your cheek and left.
And really you only had yourself to blame at the disappointment that punctuated the interaction. How could you have expected anything more than that when the bar was already set so low?
"California is a long way to come just for funeral rites," you said once Jinette was settled.
"I'm afraid that's not what I'm here for."
"Then to attend a funeral of a very devout woman," you amended.
"I'm not here for that either." You would give it to him, the remorse plastered on his features almost looked sincere. "Unfortunately, there is a very dire situation and the Order is in need of your experti--"
"No," you cut him off swiftly. "Tomorrow. You can ask me to go tomorrow. Not today."
The usual coldness of his gaze returned and he addressed you stiffly.
"You cannot refuse. Must not. This is your duty."
You turned to him, hand shooting from your lap of its own volition to grab his robe and pull him close enough that your noses practically touched.
The funeral goers around you began to murmur--your Nonna's friends whispering in fear and shame, saying a prayer to spare them of whatever wrath would befall you for defying and possibly harming his eminence--but you ignored them.
You knew you might pay for it later, but for now your rage was warranted.
"Don't lecture me about duty," you hissed at Jinette. "My entire life has been about duty. Her life too. If you want me to go? You'll beg me. Not guilt me. But I promise that the answer will still be no."
Something wicked flickered inside of you, and you wondered if you could smite Jinette. Just a little bit. If you could channel the deep-rooted grudge against your plight and let him feel the consequences that waited to befall someone who had nurtured it.
Then you felt a slight disturbance in the room.
The calm of Nonna's soul was shaken from its bliss, and you could practically hear the sharp, punishing clicks of her tongue as you fisted Jinette's robe tighter and tighter. The flame of the candles beside her casket flickered, the leaves on the flower arrangements that filled the room began to wilt, and the whispers around you got louder until they roared in your ears.
Your eyes burned with unshed tears as the feeling of Nonna's disappointment surrounded you--filled you--and you fought it for as long as you could.
But if anyone here was going to reprimand you in this room, in this world, it would be her.
You let Jinette go and fell back into the couch with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. He heaved several heavy breaths and patted his chest pathetically.
"Tomorrow," you told him as Nonna's soul and the murmurs of the people around you settled back down into a serene silence.
The tears finally fell after he left, and you closed your eyes as Eddie's ghostly touch softly wiped them away.
"Tomorrow..."
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November 6, 1983
Twang.
He enjoyed it.
Twang.
Enjoyed plucking the guitar strings and letting the reverberation travel along his fingertips and into the very core of him.
Twang.
Deep down in that dark pit where you seemed to hide, every note was like a starburst of brightness and good feelings. Things so foreign and forgotten to him now, yet still so integral to Eddie Munson.
He wasn't Eddie anymore though.
So he resented the fact that he enjoyed it so much.
"Play something," you would whisper in those hidden depths, like a devil on his shoulder, and he constantly fought the temptation to follow that urge. "Play me a song, I know you know how."
He never gave in though.
Could never give in.
It was bad enough that he hid you from Henry, that he even listened to you at all. But feeling something--doing something--was better than feeling nothing in the boring, timeless eternal void of the Upside Down. So he would allow himself these brief visits to the trailer, he would tolerate your soft words and the ever-present softness of the ghost that seemed to haunt him here, so he could pluck a few twangs of the guitar strings and bask in the sparks of euphoria they would bring.
And it was enough. It had to be enough.
Then, when he got bored or hungry or irritated by you, away he would go again.
"I would argue that me being annoying is the reason you still keep me around."
He hissed at you and pulled his hands away from the guitar spitefully.
Twang.
He watched as one of the strings seemed to pluck itself and debated whether he could reach out and take a swipe at you, but there was a sudden pain beneath his sternum. Odd, seeing as he barely felt pain in this body now. He clicked his claws together contemplatively, then hesitantly rubbed at it to soothe the ache, and as he did, he felt the echoes of your soft sigh somewhere deep inside him.
He faltered for a moment, unsure if he should feel some sort of satisfaction that he had comforted you, or resentment that he had fallen for it.
He hated you. Hated your presence there. Hated that you were somehow here when you left him to this fate. Hated that you made him weak again when Henry had remade him to be strong. Infallible.
You might very well be his downfall one day.
And still he couldn't fathom being without you again.
He growled deeply and, unexpectedly, the trailer shook around him, walls clattering, remnants of knick knacks falling.
For a moment, he watched it in awe. Believed that he was the cause of it. That the power Henry had helped him unlock had been activated with his spite.
Until everything started to shake.
The Upside Down became unsettled, the very ground beneath him shifting with some seismic agitation. Roiling and churning, changing.
There was a cacophony of restlessness through the collective consciousness as all of the creatures of the Upside Down felt the disturbance. As Henry felt the disturbance and questioned its origin, because it had not been of his design.
Almost immediately, he was singled out amongst the masses, ordered to his Master's side.
Who else could find the cause of this turmoil than Henry's right hand? His loyal servant? The Beast he created to strike on his behalf, to herald in the end?
Eddie didn't hesitate.
He left the trailer and took flight swiftly and dutifully, beating his wings powerfully to get to Henry as quickly as he could.
To get away from you as quickly as he could.
You and your comfortable constant presence in the respite of the trailer.
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“Do not be afraid. Our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.” ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno
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