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httpsserene · 1 day

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Speaking of Mr. Daniel, we all know that he injured himself a while ago. How about the reader faking an orgasm because she doesn’t want to tire or injure him? Daniel frowns immediately upon noticing, but the nurse kicks you out because it’s past hours, and he's longing for the reader. He tries to grab the reader to come back but winces in pain, proving the reader's point. Your pleasure is extremely important to him so he’ll stop functioning if you said otherwise.

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐆𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬

Summary: When Daniel isn’t feeling well, it’s no hardship for her to take of him. Except this time, he broke his hand and is proceeding to be an absolute nightmare to take care of. They haven’t had sex since before the accident in Zandvoort because she’s afraid that somehow she’ll end up aggravating his injury. Daniel, however, has convinced himself that he only exists to bring her pleasure. So, she comes up with a plan to soothe his service dom tendencies. Enter, Operation Fake Orgasm. How hard can it be? Spoiler alert: she’s a terrible actress. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!black-coded!reader(her skintone isn't referenced but she has braids.) Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. orgasm/delay denial. hurt/comfort. caretaking. servicedom!daniel. discussion of pain medication, injuries, and hospitals. dom/sub undertones. sub/shy!reader. praise kink mentioned. sensual beard shaving (it's hot). wet dreams. somnophilia. safe, sane, and consensual. oral sex (m and f receiving). vaginal sex. fake orgasm. mentioned multiple orgasms. Word Count: 3.6k words

Author's Notes: if the tags scare you, i promise it's not that bad!

secondly, thank you for the patience concerning the delay. my sister is doing a lot better now! she had an allergic reaction to pollen; she inhaled so much that her lungs freaked the fuck out on her, and i was in the hospital from 9am-9pm all day. finally got back home so i'm posting it, way late, but at least it's on the same day.

to make up for it, even though my lil sis was nearly taken out by the environment (i'm joking i love her i'm just being a big sister rn), i am releasing episode four on friday! and episode five on either tuesday or wednesday next week!

i hope you all like this episode xxx

prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

The sound of bedsheets ruffling contrasts with the monotonous beeps of the heart monitor filling the sterile hospital room; the noise is more than enough to have you snapping your head away from your phone to look at your boyfriend. Daniel’s awake and he meets your eyes with a soft groan. You coo at him softly, squeezing his hand gently as he reorients himself.

“What time ‘st?” Daniel croaks out. You cringe at the sound of his dry speech and quickly hand him the glass of water resting at his bedside.

“It’s getting late, baby,” you hum, not failing to notice the slight wince he does when his cast knocks against the bed rail, “I sent Michael back to the hotel not too long ago, around 7. Charles, Lando, Max, and Oscar came and kept me company while you were in surgery. Oscar, I think, was pretty shaken up still—to me, I could tell he felt a little guilty that you’re here with a broken hand and he’s as right rain—so, maybe when you’re more clear-headed you can reach out to him. Yuki and Michael were here the first time you woke up. Still, you were so high on your pain medication cocktail, that I think you were hearing colors and seeing sounds,” you break from your ramble, suddenly standing and reaching over the bed to press the call button, remembering the nurse told you to alert her as soon as he woke again.

“Yes?” Daniel offers, unsure of how to respond to the edge in your tone, “I’m feeling better by the way—.”

A hysterical giggle slips from your lips, and you can see the regret wash over his face when you meet his eyes with a crazed look, “Forgive me, for not asking how you were feeling right away Daniel. It’s almost like, my brain isn’t working properly because I’m fucking worried about you. Yeah? I watched you crash into the barriers, and I heard you in pain—I called everyone on your team to get updates and nobody answered! So, I got on the next flight to Zandvoort after Michael finally texted me with updates, with no luggage, just my phone and a change of clothes—so forgive me, for not checking in on you right away, after you didn’t call me once,” you blink rapidly and Daniel softens, clearly it was a terrible time to deflect with humor, he just hates to see you worry about him, that’s why he avoided calling. He’s usually the one taking care of you.

“A-are you feeling better, though?” you ask shakily, deflating quickly at the sight of his warm brown eyes, “You’re going to set off every metal detector for the foreseeable future.”

“It’s like a 6 out 10 on the pain scale—”

“That’s what I’m here for,” the nurse interrupts in accented English, smiling at the two of you briefly before she moves to Daniel’s side and catching him up on the outcome of the surgery and discussing pain medication.

“Visiting hours ended an hour ago,” the nurse speaks to you directly, “Did nobody come to escort you out?”

You shake your head in surprise, the time on your phone reads 9 PM—you have no recollection of time passing that quickly since Michael left. Gathering your few belongings, you lean down to kiss Daniel gently, “Be good for the doctors and nurses, Danny. I’ll be back in the morning, okay?”

“No, what—she can’t stay?” Daniel begs the nurse, and she frowns at him apologetically.

Ruffling his hair, you continue, “It’s not her fault—she’s just doing her job. And, we’re besties now,” Daniel stares at you confused, “She’s been coming to check up on me the entire time you decided to cosplay Sleeping Beauty so if you decide to be difficult overnight, she will not hesitate to snitch on you to me. Understand?”

Daniel swallows before nodding jerkily, “Can I have another kiss?”

It’s an easy ask for you to fulfill; but as your lips barely brush his, Daniel hisses out in pain. He tried to use his left hand to pull you closer to him, obviously aggravating the injury. You exclaim worriedly and he tries to pretend that the flare of pain wasn’t that severe. But, as the nurse reassures you that the pain meds will kick in and he’ll go right to sleep, you’ve already decided: that hand will never be in a situation that causes Daniel unnecessary pain again.

You tell Daniel that same sentence on the flight back to Monaco. He assumed that meant you’d force him to wear a sling or have it constantly cushioned and elevated (which you did anyway). However, he should’ve asked you to elaborate because he was completely blindsided to learn that you really meant all situations.

You may have gone overboard the first week. You’re well aware that his hand is the only broken thing on his body, but you pamper him as if he’s bedridden with the most severe flu seen in the last century. You cook and order him hearty meals, you have alarms set for when he needs to take his medication, you shower with him to make sure he doesn’t wet his cast—where nothing sexual happens, you killed the vibe the first time he insinuated shower sex in conversation, mentioning the statistics of shower-related deaths—you quickly fulfill all of his requests, even if it’s sitting through a movie you find tasteless; yet, you refuse to fulfill one: sex.

The doctor pulled you aside while Daniel was getting dressed to be discharged and told you to make sure he’s very careful with his arm, slow and controlled movements only, nothing abrupt.

And, if there’s one word to describe Daniel during sex, it would probably be abrupt.

He can’t keep his hands off of you when he’s uninjured. From your first time with Daniel, he showed and proved just how much your pleasure is important to him—he made sure that you understood that he lives and breathes to make you satisfied. But, you also know that he’d ignore his pain if it meant he was making you feel good; and, that’s not something you can risk, not with an injury that could affect his career if it doesn’t heal properly.

You’ve reiterated that to him multiple times when Daniel tries to deepen kisses, hoping you’ll forget about your stupid sex ban and let him make you feel good. He’s not used to going this long without making sure you’re sexually satisfied. You don’t even allow him to guide you through masturbation, because you know you won’t be satisfied with it even if you get off—it’ll only lead to you falling into his lap begging for more.

On the eighth day, you’re sitting in Daniel’s lap on the couch, rubbing ointment into the bruises left by the seatbelts of the car. You thought he was focused on watching the entire Dutch Grand Prix he missed out on, not thinking much of how he’s toying with the length of your braids with his uninjured hand.

You think nothing of the soft sighs, moans, and groans he’s letting out of his mouth as you lightly massage him. All of these noises are common reactions to a sensation that feels good. It sucks that they happen to sound very similar to the moans Daniel makes when he initially fucks into you. You’re just a girl with needs that Daniel never fails to take care of; you’re not used to this, for the same reason Daniel can’t understand why you won’t let him get you off.

Then, Daniel gasps out a soft ‘fuck’ that has no reason to be sounding that lustful and you start to squirm in his lap. You mindlessly continue to massage him, not exactly proud of the way you continue to strain your ears to hear his noises—and on one particular shift of your hips, you brush across his hard-on that wasn’t there a few minutes ago, and automatically fly off his lap.

In the frantic movement, Daniel tried to use both of his hands to keep you in his lap, irritating his broken hand. You flutter around him worriedly, your words a mix of chastising and displeasure. You don’t hesitate to say that this is exactly why the sex ban is in place (Daniel pleaded that it was a fluke, but you’re not eager to put that to the test).

Three days pass before Daniel deems you relaxed enough to have another attempt at seducing you into an orgasm or two. He approached you in the evening after you had watched him like a hawk as he took his pain medication. He wants you to shave his beard. It’s grown out some since he hasn’t shaved in a week or so. You’re not a professional beard shaver or anything, but you can imagine it’s difficult to shave your face with one hand. And of course, you’d jump at any opportunity to help out your boyfriend and allow him to relax and look pretty. After an unnecessarily long tutorial, Daniel pretends to have 100% faith in your skills and lets you take the first swipe across his cheek. You painstakingly use slow movements and light pressure, not forgetting to pull his skin tight with your other hand and clean the razor off with every stroke. You feel him tense underneath you as you ready to attempt shaving along his jawline.

Pulling back at the last second, you make to smack his shoulder before hesitating and pinching him instead (it’s his left arm, you don’t want to jostle his cast resting on the bathroom vanity), ignoring his yelp you nag him, “Well, don’t act like I’m about to gouge your throat out or anything! I can feel you freeze up underneath me—it’s not like I want to cut you. I already have to stare at your ugly face every day, I don’t want to make it worse.”

Daniel pretends to be offended at your attack and the two of you bicker back and forth before settling down. The fake roast session calmed Daniel enough that when you brought the razor to his jaw, he remained relaxed.

You smoothly shave the small area of skin and turn to clean the razor when Daniel speaks softly, “You’re so good,” a slight pause follows, “at this.”

The praise tingles down your spine and you think nothing of it. Except, it continues. With nearly every swipe along his jaw, he continues to murmur praise with lidded eyes and an alluring tone. Whispers along the lines of ‘good girl,’ ‘just like that,’ ‘you’re so sweet to me,’ and paired with his stare dancing across your face, you dread the moment you finish shaving him. As your razor ventures down his throat, the air grows thick with intimacy. It’s the result of your boyfriend trusting you to repeatedly brush a blade along his throat and your unfortunate kink for praise and acts of service. With the last brush of the razor, you gently set it down on the vanity, exchanging it for cloth you wet with hot water. Ringing it out thoroughly, you gently begin to wipe Daniel’s face avoiding eye contact. When you swipe around his lips, you get distracted by their flushed color, a result of when Daniel bit his lip to make the skin underneath taut for you to shave. His tongue slips out to wet them and you can’t help but smash your lips to his.

It feels euphoric. You’re kissing him frantically, moaning into his mouth without inhibition, and you can feel him laugh as he struggles to match your desperate pace. His hand squeezes at your waist, anchoring you yet furthering your desperation at the strong grip as you try to climb him like a tree, tugging at his hair, shirt, pants, anything you can reach. At this point, Daniel would’ve had a hand in your hair, tugging at your scalp sharply a couple of times to rein you in and move you to his rhythm. You’re a little lost at the missing sensation and you pull away to pout at Daniel like you always do when he spends too much time teasing you.

It takes one look at his blown pupils, smug smile, and heaving chest before it jogs your memory. You step backward quickly to put space between you guys, raising a hand when you see him open his mouth, knowing he’s only going to convince you to get naked for him.

“I’m going to bed,” you state with a pointed finger, “You, are going to get in the shower, with cold water, and think about what you did wrong. And! You will not wake me up for sex.”

Daniel’s face falls, and you can tell he expected you to break, “Wait—you don’t let me shower by myself, what if I fall?”

You turn and leave the room, “It would be divine intervention. Karma, for trying to get me to break my rule.”

Daniel doesn’t wake you when he slips into bed, but you lose the benefit of going to sleep early when you jolt awake before sunrise. Your mouth is dry and your panties are embarrassingly wet. You can’t recall a single detail of your dream. Still, your legs are trembling at whatever scenario your brain decided to torment you with.

Fuck it. Or fuck him, literally.

That makes sense. You’re going to ride Daniel, it’s the perfect position to make sure he doesn’t move his arm. You work him up beforehand so hopefully he won’t last as long; Daniel has unparalleled stamina usually, but with you constantly denying him for a while…he may wind up quicker. As soon as he cums, you’ll fake yours as well—because he’s only pleased if you're satisfied, otherwise he’ll attempt a round two. It’s that easy, right? You turn on your side and stare at Daniel, his face relaxed as he sleeps. Your synapses start firing as the plan comes to life. The two of you have discussed somnophilia, more on you as the receiving party. Daniel, of course, offered himself to you on a silver platter—any taste of you using him to get off? That’s always going to be a yes from him. So, yes. It is that easy.

You pull the duvet down to the edge of the bed and quietly shift to hover over Daniel’s thighs, never more thankful that he decided to wear only briefs to bed. And that he’s already half-hard; you’re extremely happy that the two of you don’t have a hand on how creative your dreams can get. He doesn’t shift when you pull his cock from underneath his briefs, carefully dragging them

down just enough to not be a bother. He stays under as you get him hard, it only takes a few strokes and some teasing along a vein on the underside. You rise slightly, sucking on two of your fingers before bringing them to rest along your entrance. It’s an annoying experience, you can’t remember the last time you had to stretch yourself out—Daniel’s spoiled you. The feeling of your fingers inside of you is underwhelming, the slight tinge of pleasure would be multiplied if it were him instead but; this is not for you. You are simply performing tonight.

You slide your fingers out and decide on getting Daniel as close to the edge as you can before he wakes up. You lean down to mouth at the head of his cock, knowing it’s incredibly sensitive and the sensation pushes him to the edge quicker than anything else. It can’t be more than a couple of strained minutes—your eyes and ears peeled to make sure you don’t miss any signs of Daniel starting to awaken. Thankfully, you feel him start to pulse along your tongue, a sure sign that he’s getting there.

You pull off, taking a second to breathe as you rest your head on his hip. With one last reassuring exhale, you move to straddle him, one hand underneath you to guide his length to your pussy. The second his head pops into you, you let out a pitiful whimper, eyelids fluttering shut, and your legs begin trembling again. Another realization hits you as you struggle to silently take all of Daniel.

You can’t recall a single time Daniel had forced you to be quiet. He’s always trying to make you scream his name. If he needs to hide your noises he muffles them with a hand over your mouth or his fingers in your mouth. Naturally, you use his tricks and do the same. With two of your fingers shoved in your mouth, you quiet your sounds as your ass meets your (somehow still) sleeping boyfriend's thighs. It feels like he’s in your throat; you know that no matter how long it takes you to make him cum, you’re going to be aching tomorrow. You begin to grind against him, whimpering softened around your digits. You slowly increase your rhythm up to a bounce, doing your best to squeeze around him—Daniel has mentioned before that he can’t resist cumming when you feel like you're trying to keep him inside of you and never let him pull out.

It must work because suddenly Daniel’s hips rock up into yours, and he’s awake with a singular breathy moan of, “Yes—oh, I thought I was still dreaming.”

You laugh airily, letting your spit-slicken fingers fall from your mouth and drop to press against your clit (you’re not actually, you’ve missed it by a mile but it’s all about convincing Daniel), avoiding meeting his eyes knowing Danny will assume it’s under the pretense of you being shy (once again, yes you are incredibly mortified, but you know he’ll be able to tell that you're faking this in a split second).

“H-how long,” Daniel moans out crackly, his abdomen contracting underneath you, “Have you been at this? ‘Gonna make me cum already.”

You nod frantically, moaning out loudly as if you’re on the edge as well. Daniel gets his feet planted and thrusts up into you forcefully enough that your moans turn real. Throwing your head back so he doesn’t see your face in case it gives you away, you continue to moan out exaggeratedly as you feel him cum inside you, pitching your voice and shuddering as if you released as well.

“What the fuck was that?” Daniel commands quietly.

You slump forward, sliding off his softening length and nuzzling into his neck to pretend like you didn’t hear him and to hide. He lets you avoid answering the first time he asks. He takes his good hand and fists his hand in the braids along the nape of your neck and tightens his grasp enough to get you to gasp.

“Mhm. When you cum, baby,” he starts softly, “That’s the quietest you ever get during sex. Usually, it’s because you choke on your breath, even though I remind you to breathe through it every time. You do this cute little thing where you try to slam your thighs shut around me, it doesn’t matter if it’s my hand, my head, or my hips, you try to crush me. It’s also one of the only times during sex when you make eye contact with me on your own, well depending on what position I have you in. I won’t repeat myself.”

You mumble into his chest fitfully before sitting up, “I didn’t want you to hurt your hand, okay? That’s all. During sex, you can never stop touching me and I was afraid that somehow you’d treat your hand a little too roughly and then, boom, you’ll never drive a Formula One car again—”

“Calm down, babe,” Daniel soothes you, bringing his right hand to massage your hip, “I think you’ve overdramatized my injury in your head a little bit. Firstly, I don’t even care if my hand suddenly fell off—genuinely, never deprive me of making you feel good. That hurts me more than my hand aches. Secondly, this entire time I didn’t even move my left hand off the bed. See?”

You look down at his hand and nod once. This entire time you enforced a needless sex ban when you could’ve been riding a high every day.

“Now, if you could be kind enough to let me restore my ego,” Daniel taps you on the ass so you rise to kneel over him, “C’mere and sit on my face.”

You hesitate, the thought of pretending to deny him crosses your mind, but you already shorted yourself of one orgasm tonight. That’s how you find yourself riding Daniel’s face, embarrassingly almost losing control of your legs at the first knock of his nose against your clit. Your boyfriend has mastered the skill of eating pussy and that’s why you feel no shame in just how quickly a few targeted thrusts of his tongue and the pressure of his nose have you shattering apart above him. And as Daniel said, you do choke on your breath as you climax, your legs tighten around his head as well—and you don’t have the strength to be humiliated at how he knows your body better than yourself.

Daniel guides you off his mouth and lays you down by his side only using the uninjured arm, and the care and strength behind that movement sends you shaking again through the aftershock and come down.

Daniel coaxes you onto your back and nudges your legs open to slide in between them. He trails the fingers of his right hand across your fluttering folds, before spreading you open with two fingers, enamored at the way your relaxed entrance winks at him.

“You can give me one or two more right? I think you need a reminder of how much I thrive off of making you feel good, pretty girl. Let’s see how many more I can get out of you before the sunrise.”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorrari @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @loomiscorpse @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @multi-fandom-rando @sweatrevenge5436-blog @bokutos-babyowl @oliviah-25 @landoslutmeout @love-simon

#serene’s chapters.#httpss :// 2k special #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 smut #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 x black!reader #f1 x female reader #daniel ricciardo x black!reader #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 x you #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: dr.

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dduane · 2 days

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Is there an alphabet or lexicon of the human version of The Speech? And if so, where can I find it?

No, there's not.

(And as I've been asked about this before, I'm just going to paste the answer in here—since though the original post is buried in the depths of Tumblr somewhere, I do have my saved draft.)

Per these, which came in very close to each other:

@melbetweenstars

This is something I’ve always wondered but never realized I could actually ask about until I read through that long meta response. (go me.) How much of the Speech do you have fleshed out? Do you create it as you go on more of a need-to-know basis, or do you have vocabulary and grammar structures ready to go? Basically I’d be really interested to hear any Speech-related meta if you have the chance because fictional languages are hella cool!

and:

@sansa–clegane

I just read your post on dark wizards and field terminologies, and am totally loving the Speech translations you provided! Now I’m wondering, though, how much of the language you actually have mapped out or established? I’m very curious as to what, for example, the standard “I - you - he/she/it/etc. - we - you plural - they” conjugation endings would be– or if there even are any in a language as complex as the Speech. I’M JUST REALLY INTERESTED IN FANTASY LINGUISTICS AAAHH

Linguistics is a big deal for me too, as people who read my stuff will have guessed. And needless to say, the Speech is on my mind a lot (along with other “magical languages” and their history/histories).

So let’s take a moment to first to make it clear what the Speech is not. It’s not what’s sometimes referred to as an Adamic language (whether you take the meaning that God used it to talk to Adam, or that Adam invented it to name things.) It’s also nothing whatsoever to do with Enochian. It’s not an occultic language, or anything invented by human beings.

The basic concept is that the Speech is the language, or the very large body of descriptors, used to create the universe (and very likely others, but let’s leave that to one side for the moment). Such words are also assumed, having been used in the building of the universe, to be able to control the bits they’ve built. Every word, therefore, when used ought ideally to sound as if it contains some tremendous power.

Writing something like that every time the Speech is used, even for a much better writer than I am, would be very, very hard.

(We need a cut here. Under the cut: Ursula Le Guin, C. S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, J. K. Rowling, and others. ...Also a fair number of beetles. And a bear.)

It’s worth mentioning as a matter of information that I met the concept of secret / divine magical languages in Le Guin’s Earthsea long before I ran into it in C. S. Lewis. (I came pretty late to Lewis’s non-Narnian work.) Yet here Lewis, as more than occasionally before, is my master, having been over this ground right back in the mid-1940s.

There’s a point in the final novel of the so-called “Planetary Trilogy”, that big fat (now endlessly problematic but still fun-in-the-right-moods) book That Hideous Strength, where Elwin Ransom—philologist, unwilling visitor to Mars and Venus, unnerved conscript into the wars in Heaven, and Lewis’s take on both the Pendragon and the wounded Fisher King—is instructing his friend and co-linguistics scholar Dimble on how to behave in a meeting with the newly awakened, and potentially quite dangerous, Merlin Ambrosius. (The POV in this passage is that of a lady named Jane who's just recently fallen into company with the group supporting Ransom.)

“You understand, Dimble? Your revolver in your hand, a prayer on your lips, your mind fixed on Maleldil [just think “Christ” for the moment: surprise surprise, that’s the parellel Lewis is using here]. Then, if he stands, conjure him.” “What shall I say in the Great Tongue?” “Say that you come in the name of God and all angels and in the power of the planets from one who sits today in the seat of the Pendragon, and command him to come with you. Say it now.” And Dimble, who had been sitting with his face drawn, and rather white, between the white faces of the two women, and his eyes on the table, raised his head, and great syllables of words that sounded like castles came out of his mouth. Jane felt her heart leap and quiver at them. Everything else in the room, seemed to have become intensely quiet: even the bird, and the bear***, and the cat, were still, staring at the speaker. The voice did not sound like Dimble’s own: it was as if the words spoke themselves through him from some strong place at a distance—or as if they were not words at all but present operations of God, the planets, and the Pendragon. For this was the language spoken before the Fall and beyond the Moon, and the meanings were not given to the syllables by chance, or skill, or long tradition, but truly inherent in them as the shape of the great Sun is inherent in the little waterdrop. This was Language herself, as she first sprang at Maleldil’s bidding out of the molten quicksilver of the star called Mercury on Earth, but Viritrilbia in Deep Heaven.

Now if that’s not like being hit over the head with a hammer, I don’t know what is.* That moment has been before the eyes-of-my-mind for a long time as I’ve worked with the Speech.

Note, however, that Lewis does a very wise thing here. He doesn’t actually spell out any of the words out for you. Because in the reader’s mind, there’s always the six-year-old saying, “Go on, say the word: see how it sounds, see what happens…!” And when you recite the magic spell, it doesn’t work. The words come out sounding, well, like any others. And maybe not your interior six-year-old, but your interior twelve- or fifteen-year-old—the ego-state that’s about keeping you from getting hurt or looking stupid in front of other people who aren’t privy to or supportive of your dreams—says, “See, it was just another word, just a bunch of nonsense. You got fooled. Dummy!” No wise writer, I think, willingly sets their readership up for such easy and constant disappointment. It's tough enough to weave, and hold in place, the spell that is prose. Handing the audience a potential spellbreaker, over and over again, is folly.

And by rights the Speech ought to be like Lewis’s example above. If in reality you were to hear the words used to restructure matter or undo gravity, they ought to shake the air in your chest like a Saturn V launch, they should raise the hair on the back of your neck to hear them used; they should freak you out. But a long string of invented syllables isn’t going to do that. I’m stuck with using English to produce even the echo of such a result.

Which means I have to go Lewis’s route… mostly. Here and there I’ll add in a Speech-sourced word or phrase when it supports the narrative or makes it easier for characters to talk about what’s going on—as, when working with wizardry, you do sometimes have to call in precisionist-level language for words that have no casual English cognates: just as you would if you were working in particle physics or organic chemistry at the molecular level. But that’s all I’m going to do… because if you do too much linguistic work in this regard, you constantly run the risk of your readers being distracted from the real business at hand, which is the interactions between/among the characters.

The tech inherent to a work of fantastic fiction is always an issue in this regard. Ideally L. Sprague de Camp’s very useful definition of science fiction, tweaked here for fantasy, ought to be a guideline: “A fantasy story is a human story with a human problem and a human solution that could never have happened without its fantastic content.” Yet inside the definition, there’s still a lot of ways to go wrong. Too much merely human stuff, and a work of fantasy turns into a soap with some casual magical gimmickry—all too often these days labeled as “magic realism”, when it’s not publisher code for “We’d call this fantasy if we had the nerve and we didn’t think it was going to tag us as ‘genre’ and keep us off the best-seller lists”. Too little human-problem-and-human-solution, and it turns into a modern version of what James Blish (God rest him), when writing as the gently merciless science fiction critic William Atheling Jr., used to call “The 'Greater New York and New Jersey Municipal Zeppelin Gas Works’ school of speculative fiction”, where you tour your readership through the Wonderfulness Of Your Tech (magical or otherwise) until they expire of boredom while waiting for someone to fucking do something.

You have to find a centerline between the extremes—indeed pretty much a tightrope—and walk it with some care. I’d guess that J. K. Rowling ran into the need for this balancing act; while never having read the Potter books, I nonetheless get a sense that you get the occasional Wingardium leviosa without also being burdened with long strings of magical Latin. (Though I confess that the answer to the question “Where does the magic come from? And what’s it for?” as it applies to her universe could be of some interest. I have no idea whether this ever gets explicitly handled.**)

Anyway, it’d be way too easy for the YW books to become long discourses on the Speech and its use. This aspect of the “tech”, I think, gets more than enough time onstage. Having once established that words are a tool, indeed the tool for a wizard, the ur-Tool, making every spell they build a resonance between what they do and the initial/ongoing work of Creation—my business is to stay focused on the challenge of driving plot forward by interactions between human beings (and all kinds of others) who have conflicting agendas.

…So much for the tl;dr. I do have some very basic grammatical structures tucked away, but they’re not in any fit state for other people to look at. The Speech, I think, is really best treated as an ongoing mystery that unfolds a little at a time, as required, and leaves everybody wanting more.

HTH!

*It also leads into one of numerous affectionate nods in this book toward Tolkien, as philologist, fellow novelist, and Lewis’s good friend. It's no accident that when Ransom meets up with Merlin himself, a little later in the narrative, the question of this language—the proper name of the Great Tongue is “Old Solar"—comes up again. When discussing what language they’ll speak with each other during their upcoming negotiations [they apparently start out in a rather beat-up and denatured medieval Latin], Ransom says to Merlin about the language he’d prefer to be working in, "It has been long since it was heard. Not even in Numinor was it heard in the streets.”

The Stranger gave no start … but he spoke with a new interest. “Your masters let you play with dangerous toys,” he said. “Tell me, slave, what is Numinor?” “The true West,” said Ransom. “Well,” said the other.

Yeah, “well.” Better scholars than I have dealt with the relationship between these two, as scholars and writers and friends, so enough of that for the moment. But it’s very sweet to see Lewis do something in his books that I’ve done with mine.

**It’s always possible, of course, that in the HP universe this issue is a surd: like asking “where physics comes from”. (Well, not a surd precisely, if your spiritual life tends a certain way. Mine tends toward “Whoever or whatever made the universe, that’s who made physics. And they must really like it, because they made a metric shit ton of it!” (This answer also works for beetles, though that's a slightly different issue.) :)

But if there’s a most-fundamental difference between my wizardly universe and Rowling’s, it might be best revealed in the third question that came up for me directly after “What if there was a user’s manual for human beings/the world/the universe?” and “If there was, where would it have come from?”: specifically, “And why?”

***There's a bear in the Pendragon's kitchen. Thoth only knows what initially brought that on for Lewis, but it's a character insertion that pays off later, so (shrug) wtf.

#Young Wizards meta #Young Wizards #Ursula Le Guin #C. S. Lewis #J. R. R. Tolkien #the Speech #wizardry #errantry

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doyoulikethissong-poll · 20 hours

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Commonly asked questions

How do I submit songs? Submissions are currently closed. When it opens up again, I'll post a message here stating rules and which specific info I require. If you don't supply that info along with the song, your message will be deleted.

I submitted a song when we were allowed. When will it appear? :) There's waaay over two thousand songs in my askbox. 😅 And I'm very slow at posting submitted songs because it takes an oddly more amount of time and energy than you'd think, that's why it's easier for me to go with the songs I already have. Please have a bit more patience, hopefully it'll be posted soon enough! 💖

I don't like the genres posted recently. 🤷‍♀️ I mean, you can tell me what genres there's a lack of and I'll try put more effort into adding more of them.

I don't like the poll options. 🤷‍♀️

Will there be an "Indifferent" option? No. People bitched and very rudely demanded it when the blog was new and it left a very sour taste. Also we're 250+ songs in, it's kinda meh to add it now, but I definitely understand why you want it because some songs are really hard to define if you feel anything at all about them. (also you know people would just click indifferent to see the results instead of listening to the song lol) If I were to ever add more options, it would be love/hate.

How do I vote on a song if I feel indifferent about it? Indifferent = don't like it ig. 🤷‍♀️ Remember, I'm not asking you if you LOVE!!!!!! the song, or if you want to buy it. Liking can be as good as only a "meh, it's ok / decent enough to run in the background". Disliking can be being indifferent instead of outright hating it, when it's so neutral to you that it doesn't give you any positive feelings. It is only a minute long clip that I'm asking you to form an opinion about after all; you can change your mind either way when you hear the full version. Sometimes songs have to grow on you!

How do you pick the songs used in the polls? Mostly like this:

I have a huge mp3 hoarding archive so the submitted songs are easier for me to pick if they're already in my possession. 😅 Songs that aren't in my collection (tagged as #new to admin :D lol. sometimes i search out songs specifically for the poll that are tagged this as well) requires a bit more effort to download/listen to/edit but i have discovered a couple of great new gems so don't think i don't appreciate them!

How do I search for a specific artist/song that you've posted? All artists are tagged a day or so after the song reveal. Don't forget to use the hashtag symbol when searching or tumblr will give you all sorts of odd results!!!! (or none at all, lol) Please also remember that tumblr finds simple easy tasks extremely difficult, so only search for an artist with the easiest type of spelling, like #beyonce instead of #beyoncé. All artists and songs are added to the Complete Song List once their showdown poll is finished, for a quick search of what's been posted.

The audio quality is too poor for my taste!! 😡 sad </3

This is just for you. 💖

Why are all the songs of such vast variating quality? ....i mean, you didn't think I've bought all the tens of thousands of songs in my music library, did you...? Pirating songs gives you variations of quality, hell even my own cd rips have variations. It's easier to get better quality files now than it was back in the days, kiddos, so yeah some songs in the archives needs to be updated with new files. I have some very ancient mp3's that are in really low sound, that i've instead downloaded newer versions of in better quality for the polls but y'all still give me shit about it because the artist have remastered the track to unrecognition or whatever so there's just no pleasing some people i guess lmao. 😂

Do you like all the songs you've posted? No, lol. All the songs that are in my archive are songs I've at least liked enough once upon a time to save them, even if I'm not actively listening to them much anymore. Everything tagged as #new to admin :D are new songs to me that I may or may not like, regardless if they're submitted or if I've scouted them out myself only for the polls. :) Songs that I hate so much that I can't stand them are very few, and I won't waste time on adding them!

Did you change the song in the poll?? No. Maybe you clicked on the wrong one if I posted them too close together or maybe (most likely) tumblr has screwed something up for you. Some songs don't even show at times because it's tumblr being tumblr, just wait it out for a few minutes and tumblr will eventually remember to play the audio. So far there's only one song that I had to re-upload because tumblr killed the file. I can change the clip to better audio or to another part of the same song, but I never replace it to a different one once it's out there for you to vote on, I don't see the point of doing that.

Why are some polls audio files and other video files? Again: tumblr being tumblr. They won't allow some songs to be uploaded as audio, but using them in videos is ok. I hate the audio-as-video format and it requires even more effort from me so I'm not doing it on purpose. :)

I don't remember if I've heard this song before or not. If you know you've heard it, like if you're a fan or a hater or the song has been constantly played on the radio, you know it. (this is why the phrasing has been changed again in the latest polls) If you don't remember it, or just vaguely, or just a specific tiny part used in a meme/tiktok video, choose first time. The only thing that matters is the yes or no, knowing it or not is just an added fun but don't take it too seriously. :) Look at it sort of like "old fan/casual listener/hater vs new listener".

The part of the song that you posted SUCKS!!!! You should have just posted this one specific famous part for people to vote yes! "don't post the actual song in this song poll" ...................................like, no. not gonna post just the meme-bits or the drops or the whatever. Yeah i saw all the comments how you all clicked dislike on "Out of Touch" because you voted before you got to the chorus 😂 That's an honest opinion about the song lol, because a song is more than just a catchy chorus or a big drop. But yeah, sometimes one verse of a song would've maybe been better to post instead of that other verse, I'm with you on that.

I queued this song to see what it is but it's still stated as being Anonymous for me! Reblogs, drafts and queues will only show you what's there at the time, like a screenshot. It won't update automatically. All your reblogs, drafts and queued posts from when the poll is active will only show up as Anonymous songs. Always go back to the original post to see the song reveal. If the info isn't there, then give me a day or two to update the post because most likely things are too busy irl. 💖

I voted wrong/voted before I recognized the song! Will you change my vote? No, I'm not recounting anything wth. 😅

I'm embarrassed. I like the song but I don't want others to know that I do. I promise you that nobody but you can see how you've voted. Not me or your mutuals. Only you see what you've voted on. It's ok to like bad songs, and it's ok to like good songs by bad people. Don't let others shame you for that.

How do I vote on this cover/remix that was posted instead of the original? If you feel like this version is close to the original that you like, vote yes. If you don't feel like this version does the original song justice, vote no, even if it hurts.

This song that I don't know samples another song that I do know. How do I vote? I don't consider samples being used as being the same song, so pick first time. Unlike covers/remixes, the original song that has been sampled might show up at a later time, if it hasn't already been on here before.

How does so many people not know this song!!? Everyone is not your age/not from your country and your experience is not universal. 🤷‍♀️ That being said, I too get wtf-moments sometimes because some songs really do get wacky results, so, yeah 😂

Have you ever thought about-- Yes.

I demand you give me a rickroll!!!!!! Ask things nicely instead of demanding things from me. (This is the most common demand I've gotten, sigh. Thanks to those of you who have at least asked nicely and/or with a sense of humour!)

Please do a rickroll? It's already been posted in a bonus poll. It might show up in a "real" poll in years from now if this poll blog is still active but as of now it was added to a tumblr meme post where it was better suited.

I'm gonna ignore that submissions are closed and send you song suggestions anyway!!!! They will be deleted because they're not asked for atm. Unless you're the artist. Exceptions can be made in that case. :)

This poll blog doesn't respect my requirement to know who the artists are before I listen to their songs because of my need - that is very important that everyone else needs to acknowledge and follow - to know if a person is of a good moral standing according to my own views!! 😡 There's other poll blogs better suited for you. Not everything online has to be adjusted to fit *your* particular needs. 🤷‍♀️ (YES i've actually gotten this demand way too often. Sigh.)

Why was my reblog hidden from the notes where I spew hatred over an artist?! You are censoring me!!!! Did you mention the artist by name, or other obvious spoilers? Don't post spoilers. 🤷‍♀️

You hid this other comment I made with no spoilers!!!!! Sometimes comments show in dashboard mode but not in app mode and vice versa, or not even in the notifications. Haven't we already established that tumblr finds easy stuff extremely difficult? Also, sometimes you and I don't share an opinion of what a spoiler means. To all of you who have claimed an artist's name isn't a spoiler, yeah it's kind of a big one. As for the artist mentioning their own name or the song title in the song, you only hear that once you listen to the clip. Knowing it before even clicking to play the music is a spoiler.

Why have you turned off replies? I want to say things without reblogging!! I mean 🤷‍♀️ I'm sure you know why. Replies and anons have been turned off from the very beginning. The few times replies actually have been turned on, it's been stated as such and been very temporarily, like when we've discussed music in some post.

Turn on anon!!! I'm to shy to say thing off-anon! I mostly reply to things privately, or this blog would be nothing but q&a. Anons are off for a reason. Abuse and death threats are to be associated with the sender's account for all to see. I'm always nice to nice people so there's no need to worry about sending me questions or tagging me in things. :) 💖

I demand you to-- Pay me. :)

Shut up and take the abuse thrown at you personally because you're just a poll blog! You are aware that the poll blogs on tumblr aren't actually run by bots, right? Don't be an obnoxious twat. (and ughh yes, this too has been said to me several times. Sigh.)

I want you to add this song I want RIGHT NOW and/or i WANT these other options added now! Rich people can always break all the rules, just like irl. Just give me the $$$$ 😘

I don't like this song because I don't understand the language. Please only post English songs. Ok well, I mean, you can always learn other languages. 🤷‍♀️ Just like how I learned English.

If anyone feels targeted by these last questions without me meaning to, I'm sorry. These actually are the most common questions and comments and demands I've gotten in my askbox. Especially when the blog was new and people Demanded Their Rights to have me adjust everything to suit them. Don't feel like you can't state your thoughts in reblogs or in messages because as long as you're not being rude to me, my attitude on some answers isn't targeted at you, only at them. 💖 Remember to just have fun with the polls and hopefully you and/or your mutuals discover new music!

#qna

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bkd-b3ans · 3 days

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Boothill keeps messing up his revolver from all the slapping and you have to fix it

Heya, love For Boothill too big, so I've started writing something for the first time. Sorry for any mistakes, literally never wrote a fanfic before.

Ship: Boothill x mechanic reader (gn, but possible masc leaning)

Warnings: none, it's just a bit of banter

Chapter(s?) : just one part of a long thing I want to do. I will accompany this with art too of my oc later down the line.

"Boothill, can you stay still for one moment?" You said, clear annoyance in your voice as you almost dropped the small pins you had to hold with a pair of tweezers inside the cowboys disassembled arm.

You were trying to fix his revolver, which so happened to get jammed again due to his recklessness in fighting. You've told him so many times to stop slapping it into place so aggressively, that the springs and pins inside it are going to get worn out faster or shifted out of their place, but those pleas always fell onto deaf ears.

"M'bad sugar, it just gets sooo boring stayn' still like this for so fudging long." He said, rolling his eyes and slumping back down in his chair, tapping the fingers of his other hand onto the arm rest.

He always had these tics of his when getting fixed, which, to a degree, you could understand. After all, sometimes his repairs could take a few minutes or entire days where he'd have to do nothing but stay in your workshop, connected to your many machines in order to ensure that everything is running optimally. By now, he came so often that you could confidently just run your business on his funds alone.

"It won't take that long this time-" you adjusted the magnifying glasses on your nose, tapping the edge to zoom in a bit more, your steady hand placing the tiny pin inside it's hole "Luckily it was just a few pins that got out of their place. Other than that, your body seems to function pretty well."

He heard that little sigh of relief you sometimes did when checking his systems. It was a bitch and a half to fix them, and you were about the only mechanic not affiliated with the IPC that he could trust not to install some weird virus into his body.

" Well, what can I say, lady luck still riddin' shotgun with me I reckon. Can't say the same 'bout those jolly good fellows from the IPC." he let out a prideful scoff tipping his hat "I reckon their faces look better now with a few bullets between their teeth.

You shook your head, already used to his rants about the IPC and his hunt for revenge. Whilst you could appreciate his enthusiasm, you had yet to pry into the issue as to why. Despite all the days and hours spent with him, working on his body and listening to his rants, you had yet to be told the reason for all of this.

"As long as it is their face and not yours. After all, you're my number one customer~" you have him a wink, sticking your tongue at him playfully. Boothill nearly laughed, trying to say something smart back, but he was cut short by you suddenly slapping the revolver back in it's place, giving it a few spins before closing the paneling around it

"All seems to work well now Boots. Again, please stop slapping this thing into place like it owes you money. Your body may be made out of quality stuff, but it's not immune to your own idiocy."

"Hah, as if, that thing works better with a little tough love"

He didn't even have to look at you to feel the knives you were starring at him from behind your glasses.

"Besides, if I were to be careful, what excuses would I have to come pay ye a visit from time to time? Eh, sugar?"

You hated that shit eating smirk he had on his face sometimes. You just knew he enjoyed teasing and annoying you. It was part of your friendship at this point.

"One day your recklessness will be your death"

Standing up, you went to disconnect him from the machines he was hooked up, pulling out the cables from his back one by one.

"Aww, do I sense some worry in yer tone, darling? I'm flattered a-"

He couldn't finish his sentence as you tugged on his hat, pulling it over his face. Boothill couldn't help but laugh.

"Fine fine, I'll stop. Fudge me you can be tough to love sometimes. How much do I owe ya?" he asked, finally being able to stand up and adjust his hat.

"40k, do you want to put this on your tab again or just pay upfront"

"Just put it on my tab darling, I'll pay it once I'm back from this assignment"

You sighed. He always picked that option, but he always paid eventually, so you weren't too worried. What worried you us where the money came from sometimes. But what can you do, money is money after all.

"Fine, I'll see you next time Boots. And hey, bring me something nice from your travels, I might give you a discount too"

"What do I look like? A magpie?" he scoffed.

"You look more like a shark, but sure. Anyway, counting on you, Boots"

You gave him a friendly pat on the back, the cowboy tipping his hat to you before leaving, making you wonder sometimes in what part of the galaxy he's going to end up to next time every time he left your workshop.

#hsr #boothill #honkai star rail #fanfic #boothill x reader #Sfw #They're just friends (for now)#Boothill honkai star rail #my stuff

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mononijikayu · 1 day

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“all that i am, when i’m around you” — gojo satoru.

Satoru blushes at the fact that he was so bold to do that. He groaned to himself, his hands on his head. He purses his lips. But it felt good. It felt good to make you flustered. It felt good to make you feel a deep sense of contentment, just being with you. Just being silly around you. These moments, these small, everyday interactions, were what made his life with you so special. It wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic changes—it was about the quiet, simple moments that you shared together. Gojo Satoru felt that he was all he was, when he was around you.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, mention of breastfeeding, mention of postpartum effects, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: all that i am by mirdjo

NOTE: i was gone for a while and i still haven't written, sorry about that. i recently lost my dog and i really couldn't do anything. but today is the jjk chapter drop, so i decided to write something. this was comforting to write, because gojo satoru is a comfort. i'm doing a bit better now. we will be back on schedule soon enough!!! i hope you enjoy this little drable!!! i love you!!! <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

IT WAS TAKING TIME TO ADJUST TO BEING MARRIED. But being married to you wasn’t so bad, or at least that’s what Gojo Satoru thinks. He looks at you as you hum that tune from the radio — preparing breakfast for both of you and the kids.

He had just gotten home from a mission, but you were waiting for him to come home. That was new for him. That someone was up all night worrying about him. Usually, he and Suguru went on missions together. But there wasn’t anyone waiting for him to come back, to greet him happily like you did.

Everything has been a whirlwind of changes and emotions. One that he hadn’t expected about this. Surprisingly, you both got along well as a married couple. You didn’t act romantically, of course. There’s…there’s none of that yet. But you both cared for each other a lot, acted like a married couple would. Satoru was surprised. It was like everything fit into place now.

The dynamic between you had shifted in subtle yet significant ways, reshaping the very foundation of your relationship. These past few months had been a period of profound transformation for both of you, discovering what could be between you now.

He was sure that slowly but surely, it was still sinking in — you took his name, you were in his house, you wore his ring. You were more in his and your life now. You were more part of his life now than ever before. You weren’t his senpai anymore, and he wasn’t your kouhai either. You were now his wife and he was your husband.

For a while, Gojo Satoru found himself in an unfamiliar territory, uncertain of what to call you. It wasn't just a matter of addressing you by your name; it was about finding the right words to encapsulate the depth of your relationship. In the past, you were his senpai, the one he looked up to with admiration and respect. Then, you became his partner, someone he leaned on for support and guidance. But now, as husband and wife, the dynamics had shifted in ways he hadn't anticipated.

He hesitated to simply call you by your first name, as if it didn't quite capture the magnitude of your connection. You were still very much not in love. It was too hard to be casual with you. It wasn’t like it was a joke like he did when he was still your kouhai. It was real now. It was very much something that was a gap he had to think about for a long while.

Calling you "wife" felt too formal, too distant for the woman who shared his hopes, dreams, and fears. It may have been an arranged marriage, but it wasn’t as if he wasn’t an instigator. He was a willing participant, because he was fond of you. He wasn’t going to be calling you that.

Using "dear" sounded too old-fashioned, something his and your mother called your own fathers when they first married years and years ago. And "love" seemed too casual for the depth of emotion he felt for you. He wasn’t in love with you, yet. One day, maybe. But until then, he had to be able to give a name for you.

One day, Satoru approached you with a hesitant expression, his usual confidence tinged with uncertainty. "Hey, um... I've been thinking," he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

You looked up from your book, sensing his unease. "What's on your mind, Satoru?"

He shifted nervously, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "It's about... what to call you, now… now that you aren’t my senpai," he admitted, his cheeks tinted with a faint blush. His eyes flickered with uncertainty as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. "It's just... I know this is really different. But it’s not easy to just call you by your name or just make up one. So I wanted to ask you about what you’re comfortable with."

You watched him with a soft smile, sensing his discomfort and wanting to ease his worries. "Satoru, you don’t really have to ask me. We’re married now," you reassured him, your voice gentle and reassuring.

But he couldn't shake off the feeling of uncertainty, the weight of tradition and habit still lingering in his mind. "I know, I know," he murmured, his gaze shifting to the ground. "But it's just... I want to make sure I'm doing this right. I want it to feel... natural."

Your heart softened at his vulnerability, your own affection for him swelling within your chest. "Satoru, there's no right or wrong way to do this," you said, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "We're in this together, remember? It's okay to feel unsure sometimes. But just know that you can call me whatever feels comfortable to you."

He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "Anything?"

You nodded, a warm smile playing on your lips. "Anything."

With a sigh of relief, Satoru felt the weight of uncertainty lift from his shoulders. "Okay then," he said, a newfound determination in his voice. "I think... I think I'll stick with trying to…trying to get used to your name. For now. If that's alright with you."

Your smile widened, a surge of warmth flooding your heart. "It's more than alright, Satoru." you replied, your voice filled with love and understanding.

He liked the way you said his name.

But he can tell, slowly but surely.

You liked how he said yours too.

In that time, as Satoru endeavored to commit your name to memory as effortlessly as breathing, he found himself grappling with the concept of you being an intrinsic part of his home. The idea of you being his home. It was a notion that seemed foreign at first, given his long-standing familiarity with solitude and transience.

From a young age, Satoru had grown accustomed to living in isolation, even within the vast expanse of the Gojo clan manor. As the heir to the Gojo clan, he had resided in his own wing of the estate, separated from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. But even within his private quarters, he never lingered in one room for long.

The ever-present threat of assassination, a constant worry for his mother following the fate of his father, prompted her to frequently alter the layout and appearance of his living space. Rooms were rearranged, furnishings were swapped out, and on particularly paranoid days, Satoru found himself relocated to entirely different chambers. As a result, he never had the opportunity to truly imprint the features of any particular room in his memory.

Even during his time in the Jujutsu High dormitories, Satoru had maintained a sense of detachment from his surroundings. Though he had his own room, he seldom spent enough time there to form any meaningful connection to it.

With missions keeping him and Suguru occupied for days on end, and the few precious hours of rest often spent in Suguru's company, Satoru's dorm room remained as pristine and impersonal as the day he first set foot in it. Like the Gojo manor, it was a space devoid of personal significance, a transient waypoint in his journey through life.

It wasn't until he met Suguru and Shoko, and ultimately you, that Satoru began to understand the true meaning of belonging. Through your presence, he discovered a sense of stability and security that had eluded him for so long.

With you, he found a home—a place where he could be himself without fear or reservation, where memories were made and cherished, and where the bonds of love and friendship flourished. And as he reflected on the journey that had brought him to this moment, Satoru realized that he had finally found something worth remembering, something worth holding onto with all his heart.

Satoru often found himself lost in thought, reflecting on how different things were now. He loved how peaceful it had been just being around you. Even the little mundane details brought a sense of joy he hadn't anticipated.

Living together meant he saw you more than ever before, and since you weren’t going on missions nowadays, he found himself awakened to each and every day beside you, learning all these bright new facets of your personalities to light.

He noticed how you scrunch your nose when you were thinking too hard, a cute quirk that made him smile. Your bright eyes narrowed often when you focused on things, a look of intense concentration that made you look both serious and endearing.

You made a funny face when you realized something he had pointed out, a mix of surprise and amusement that was always delightful to witness. And then there was the way you smiled into your cup of coffee if it tasted good, a small but genuine expression of contentment that made his heart swell.

One morning, as he watched you prepare breakfast, he couldn’t help but just stare. You had a peculiar way of eating your breakfast. You put jam on your bread, humming quietly, and add your eggs, bacon, and the other side of the bread. You looked so happy to eat it, grinning at how delicious it tastes for you.

The kids were already out for the day, and they would be here all day because they’re in school and there were still their after school activities. In truth, Satoru was too exhausted to get up from the bed, he did back to back missions after all. But you kept urging him to get up and eat breakfast with you. His stomach would hurt if he didn’t tell him. He can shower and sleep after.

He didn’t know if he was just too tired or if he was just out of his mind. But he felt warm inside. Just watching you eat happily. That you would make him this delicious meal. That you would push him to take care of himself. That you would take care of him.

"You know, you have these little habits that are just... adorable."

You turned to him, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "All of a sudden?”

“Why not? I think it’s true.”

“Oh really? How so?"

He leaned against his own chair, a playful grin on his face. "Y’know, I don’t think you know this but you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking too hard. Or how your eyes narrow when you’re focused. And that face you make when you realize something new—it’s priceless. Just know, you ate that sandwich and started nodding because you think it’s delicious.”

You looked at him flustered, eyes fluttering. "I didn’t know you paid so much attention to me, Satoru. That’s….so detailed.”

"How could I not?" he replied, leaning forward toward you. "I see you everyday. It was meant to be me learning something new about you every day.”

A blush crept up your cheeks, and you turned back to the stove, stirring the eggs. "You’re making me self-conscious now."

"Don’t be." he said softly, smiling at you gently. "I love these little things about you. They make you... you. And I like that, y’know?”

You leaned back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "And what about you, Satoru? What little things do you have that I should be noticing?"

He chuckled at you, standing up and walking towards you. He pats your head, your face turning redder. "I’m not sure. Maybe you’ll have to pay more attention and find out."

"......I will." you promised, turning your head slightly to meet his eyes. You were too shy now. His grin grew wider. "I’ll make it my mission to do well for you."

He smiled, his lips brushing against your cheek. "I look forward to it."

“S-satoru, you can’t just do that!”

He laughed. “Love you too!”

“T-that….. Satoru! You're a pain in the ass!"

"But I'm your pain in the ass!"

These moments, these small, everyday interactions, were what made his life with you so special. It wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic changes—it was about the quiet, simple moments that you shared together. Gojo Satoru felt that he was all he was, when he was around you.

In those moments, he realized that being married to you was more than he had ever expected. It was about finding joy in the mundane, discovering new facets of each other every day, and building a life together that was filled with love, laughter, and understanding. There were moments of tender domesticity that felt almost surreal—sharing morning coffee, debating over grocery lists, and falling into a routine that was uniquely yours.

As Satoru sat at the kitchen table, you poured him a cup of freshly brewed coffee, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Here you go, Satoru." you said, sliding the mug across the table towards him. "Time for you to join the coffee club."

He eyed the dark liquid with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "I'm not sure about this," he admitted, reaching out to tentatively lift the mug to his lips.

"You won't know until you try, y’know?" you teased, nudging him gently. “Go on! One sip!”

As Satoru tentatively raised the cup to his lips, anticipation mingled with apprehension. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted up to meet his nose, promising a bold and robust flavor experience. But as the bitter liquid touched his tongue, his features contorted into a grimace of pure disbelief. It was as if he had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon, his taste buds recoiling in shock at the unexpected assault.

The sight of Satoru's reaction was too much for Megumi to handle. From his position on the sidelines, he burst into laughter, unable to contain his amusement at his friend's expense. His laughter echoed through the kitchen, a joyful symphony of mirth that filled the room with infectious energy.

Despite the discomfort of the bitter taste lingering on his palate, Satoru couldn't help but chuckle along with Megumi's infectious laughter. There was something undeniably humorous about the situation, and he found himself unable to suppress a smile even as he struggled to come to terms with the unfamiliar flavor of the coffee.

Tsumiki, the epitome of kindness and compassion, didn't hesitate for a moment as she witnessed Satoru's struggle with the bitter coffee. With a swift and determined motion, she sprang into action, her nurturing instincts kicking into high gear.

"Here, let me help, Satoru–san!" she exclaimed, her voice gentle but firm as she reached for the container of sugar and the carton of cream nestled in the fridge. With practiced efficiency, she poured a generous spoonful of sugar into the mug, followed by a liberal splash of cream, expertly balancing the flavors to create a more palatable concoction.

As she stirred the sugar and cream into the coffee, a look of focused concentration settled on her features. It was clear that she took her role as caretaker seriously, determined to ease Satoru's discomfort and ensure his enjoyment of the beverage.

With a final stir, Tsumiki presented the transformed coffee to Satoru with a warm smile, her eyes shining with genuine concern and compassion. "Here you go, Satoru–san," she said softly, offering him the mug. "I hope this makes it more to your liking."

Satoru accepted the mug with gratitude, his heart warmed by Tsumiki's kindness and thoughtfulness. As he took a cautious sip of the now sweetened and cream-enriched coffee, he found himself pleasantly surprised by the transformation. The bitter edge had been softened, replaced by a creamy sweetness that danced across his taste buds with newfound delight.

"Thank you, Tsumiki," he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "You're a lifesaver."

Tsumiki's smile widened at his words, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. "It's my pleasure, Satoru–san," she replied, her gaze warm and earnest. "I'm always here to help."

He looks at you. “This is my only cup of coffee for the rest of my life.”

You chuckled at Satoru's expression, reaching out to pat his hand sympathetically. "Looks like coffee isn't for everyone," you said, trying to stifle your laughter.

Satoru nodded in agreement, his lips still puckered from the bitter taste. "I think I'll stick to hot cocoa." he said, setting the mug aside with a grimace. “This is awful!”

You laughed. “Well, I’ll make you good sweet ones, ‘toru.”

You took care of him in ways that went beyond what he had ever imagined. It was in the little things: the way you left notes for him to find, the meals you cooked together, the quiet support you offered without needing to be asked. It made him feel like a bashful boy all over again, experiencing a kind of affection and attention that was both exhilarating and humbling.

Being married, being husband and wife — this is not easy. His own mother was surprised that someone as young as him would consider it now. It was true that he had uncles that could marry you. Save you from the Zenin, the name was enough. But Satoru couldn’t admit to you then when you asked him that it was because you were you. You were all he had, now that Suguru had left him. And he couldn’t lose you too. He didn’t want to.

Satoru sat across from his mother, the weight of her words heavy in the air. "You're too young to be thinking about marriage, Satoru." she said, her tone tinged with concern. "You have your whole life ahead of you. There's no need to rush into anything."

He bit his lip, feeling the weight of her words like a physical blow. "I know, Mother." he replied, his voice strained with emotion. "But it's not that simple."

His mother raised an eyebrow, her expression questioning. "What do you mean?"

Satoru hesitated for a moment, struggling to find the right words. "I... I can't just leave her unprotected. Not when the Zenin is planning to marry her to Naoya….he’s gonna hurt her." he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "She needs someone to look after her, to keep her safe."

His mother's eyes softened with understanding as she reached out to lay a comforting hand on his arm. "Satoru, you don't have to bear that burden alone," she said gently. "You have uncles who would gladly take on that responsibility. Maybe even your cousins. You don't have to sacrifice your own happiness for hers."

But Satoru shook his head, determination shining in his cerulean eyes. "It has to be me, Mother," he insisted. "I can't let anyone else take that responsibility. I have to be the one to marry her, to care for her. No one….”

His mother sighed, realizing the depth of his conviction. "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself too, Satoru," she said, her voice tinged with concern. "Marriage is a partnership, and you can't neglect your own well-being in the process."

Satoru nodded, his resolve unwavering. "I promise, Mother," he said, a steely determination in his voice. "I'll take care of her, and I'll take care of myself. We'll make it work together. I know we will."

And as he left his mother's side, the weight of her words still echoing in his mind, Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of determination settle in his heart. He would do whatever it took to keep you safe and happy, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness in the process. Because for him, there was no greater priority than ensuring your well-being, no matter the cost.

Because he knew that you would take care of him.

And you would make sure he would be safe too.

You were just that kind of person to Gojo Satoru.

As Satoru sat on the couch, watching you move about the room, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. What would the future look like for the two of you? The thought filled him with a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. There was so much more beyond the friendship that had been the bedrock of your relationship.

He imagined a future filled with shared dreams and challenges, laughter and tears, triumphs and setbacks. He saw you both growing together, learning from each other, and building a life that was rich and full. The thought of children crossed his mind—a family that was an extension of the love you shared.

Satoru smiled to himself, feeling a warmth spread through him. This was just the beginning, a new adventure that you were embarking on together. And whatever the future held, he knew that with you by his side, it would be extraordinary.

"Hey, you should start pouring your hot cocoa, Satoru," you told him, pointing the spatula towards the boiling pot. "It’ll get too soggy if you let it overboil!"

"Coming, coming," he mumbled, snapping back to reality as he stood up from the couch.

He moved to the stove, reaching for the pot of cocoa. As he poured the steaming liquid into his mug, he couldn’t help but smile at how natural this all felt. You, bustling around the kitchen, humming softly; him, doing his part to help with breakfast. It was a far cry from the life he once knew, filled with endless missions and solitary nights.

Satoru watched as you deftly flipped pancakes, your movements sure and practiced. "You know," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice, "I could get used to this. Waking up to you, having breakfast together. For the rest of my life. It’s... nice."

You glanced over at him, a twinkle in your eye. "Just nice?"

"Okay, more than nice," he admitted, leaning against the counter. "It’s... comforting. Makes me feel like I’ve finally found where I belong."

You paused, setting down the spatula and turning to face him fully. "You do belong here, Satoru. With me. With us."

He felt a lump in his throat, emotions welling up that he hadn’t expected. "I know. And it means more to me than I can say."

You smiled, stepping closer to him. "You don’t have to say it. I can see it. And I feel the same way."

He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I’m glad we have this. Us. I know it hasn’t been easy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything."

"Neither would I," you said softly, leaning into his touch. "We’re a team, Satoru. And we’ll get through everything together."

He nodded, pulling you into a gentle hug. "Yeah, we will. And I promise to keep doing my best to be the husband you deserve."

You hugged him back, your arms wrapping around him tightly. "You already are, Satoru. More than you know."

As you both stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Satoru felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known was possible. This was his life now—filled with love, warmth, and the simple joys of being with you. And no matter what challenges lay ahead, he knew he could face them as long as you were by his side.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your lilac eyes. "You know," he began, his voice softer now, "I never thought I’d have this. A home, a family. I always figured I’d be alone, just me against the world."

You cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing against his skin. "You don’t have to be alone anymore, Satoru. We’re in this together."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. "I know. And it scares me sometimes, how much I need this. Need you."

You smiled gently. "Needing someone isn’t a weakness. It’s what makes us human. It’s what makes us stronger."

He opened his eyes, meeting your gaze. "You’re right. And I’m grateful every day that I have you. That we have this life together."

You kissed his forehead, a tender gesture that spoke volumes. "Me too. We’re building something beautiful, Satoru. One day at a time."

He nodded, a sense of determination settling in his chest. "One day at a time," he echoed. "And I promise, I’ll be here for every single one."

You smiled, feeling the depth of his commitment and love. "And I’ll be here too, Satoru. Always."

As you both turned back to the breakfast preparations, the sense of shared purpose between you felt stronger than ever. The rhythmic clatter of utensils against pots and pans, the fragrant aroma of coffee wafting through the air—each moment seemed infused with a quiet but palpable sense of contentment.

In the simplicity of your daily routine, Satoru found himself feeling his heart beat just a little bit faster. There was a sense of profound happiness that he couldn’t quite explain, a feeling that bubbled up from deep within his chest and spilled over into every fiber of his being. It was a feeling that defied rational explanation, transcending words and logic to manifest as a pure, unadulterated sense of joy.

It was never going to be easy to explain, Satoru realized, nor did he feel the need to try. Some things were simply beyond words, existing in a realm of emotion and intuition that defied rational analysis. But it was okay—it was more than okay, in fact. For Satoru, the unpredictable nature of life was a source of excitement rather than anxiety, a reminder that every twist and turn held the potential for new discoveries and adventures.

And through it all, you were there by his side, holding his hand through every challenge and triumph. As long as you were there, he knew that nothing would ever be truly insurmountable. With your unwavering support and boundless love, Satoru felt invincible, ready to face whatever the world threw his way.

As he watched you move gracefully about the kitchen, a sense of gratitude washed over him, filling his heart to the brim. In that moment, surrounded by the comforting familiarity of home and the warmth of your presence, Satoru knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be. And with you by his side, he was ready to embrace whatever the future held, secure in the knowledge that together, you could conquer anything that came your way.

Satoru took the pot of cocoa off the stove and poured it into two mugs, handing one to you. "To us. May we be happy together." he said, raising his mug.

"To us," you replied, clinking your mug against his. You smiled at the last bit. “May we be happy.”

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your home and the promise of your future together, you both knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey—one filled with love, laughter, and the simple, everyday joys of being with each other.

All that he is when he's around you.

That's all he wants to be in this life.

And you would say the same thing to him.

But he didn't have to hear you say it to him.

Your eyes tell him so much more than he needs.

epilogue

Gojo Satoru stood in his cluttered office at Jujutsu High, sighing softly. There was a baby carrier strapped to his chest with a gurgling Gojo Satoshi nestled inside. The little one wasn’t really feeling his dear beloved father’s stress. But Satoru couldn’t expect much of his little dawn. He liked laughing, being stressed free and his mama. As Satoru moved around the room, he couldn’t help but stand still. There was little place to move.

His cerulean eyes scanned the room, which looked like a tornado had swept through. Papers, books, and miscellaneous items were scattered everywhere. This was his first year of teaching in Jujutsu High and immediately, everything was already a mess. He didn’t expect it to be this way this quickly. Satoru was good at keeping things clean most of the time. But these days, balancing fatherhood and balancing husbandry and jujutsu — he really didn’t have the time to clean.

Satoru didn’t teach methodically, like Utahime. But he still needed a basis for what he was teaching. So he had scrolls upon scrolls he borrowed from Gojo manor and even Mikoto manor. Along with books that Yaga–sensei would be looking for by now. He wasn’t just teaching things from his gut–feeling. That would get more unnecessary yapping from the higher ups than he already was getting. Plus, you’d end up yelling at him for that. Kids were at stake after all.

He didn’t know why he decided to do this today, if he was being honest. It was really not the time. You weren’t in town right now, you went back to Kyoto for a few days at your mother’s request. Nobuhiko was going to have his first teaching class in Kyoto Jujutsu tech too. And there was the issue of a barrier somehow being down in Kyoto. You had to deal with that. Satoru didn’t want to see you off. But well, you really had no excuse now that you were off duty.

"Megumi, Tsumiki, help me out here," he said, trying to sound authoritative but mostly just sounding tired. "Your mother is out of town, and I can't stay at home moping around."

“Gen–san’s not our mother.” Megumi rolled his eyes, picking up some of the books.

“Well she’s all you have, and I’m lonely without her. So stand your butt and help me clean this up.” Satoru touts, as he starts to roll up the scrolls. Satoshi giggled watching his father roll it up. Satoru grinned. “You like it, huh? Yeah, the sound is fun, isn’t it?”

Megumi sighs, crossing his arms to his chest. “We could be playing some video games right now. It’s a Sunday too.”

“Oh cheer up, Megumi! I’m buying us ice cream once we’re done, hm?”

Tsumiki, ever the peacemaker, smiled as she cleared up some paper into the box. "Cheer up, Megumi! This is fun. You never know what we might find in Satoru–san’s office.”

“More trash?” He waves around a newspaper that was out of date and puts it in the box.

“Something interesting, like….like this!” Tsumiki pulls out a book on the types of cheesecake.

“See, ‘miki has the right idea, ‘gumi~”

Megumi sighed, shaking his head. “This is hopeless.”

As they began sorting through the mess, Satoru slumped into his chair, cradling Satoshi gently. The baby giggled, tugging at Satoru's sunglasses with his tiny, curious fingers. Each time Satoru gently pried them away, Satoshi’s giggles only grew louder, echoing through the cluttered office.

"Hey, don't mess with the shades, kiddo. They're part of my charm," Satoru murmured, his usual bravado softened by the affectionate way he spoke to his son. He placed a playful kiss on Satoshi’s forehead, making the baby squeal in delight. “We don’t want to make mama panic about a new pair having to be bought, you know?”

Satoshi didn’t seem to understand, as he kept giggling. Satoru couldn’t help but grin at how mischievous his little dawn is. “My baby is such a mischievous little one, hm? I’ll have to get you your own pair, shouldn’t I? So you and papa can match the look and be cool together, hm? Ah, that would be so cute~”

Megumi sighed as he opened yet another drawer filled with random items. "What is all this junk?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of disbelief at the sheer volume of clutter.

Satoru waved a dismissive hand, barely glancing at the drawer’s contents. "Important stuff," he replied vaguely, focusing more on adjusting Satoshi in the carrier. "Probably."

“You can’t just say probably!” Megumi retorted back.

“Oh, it’s going to be fine~”

Tsumiki, more patient and methodical in her approach, carefully sifted through a stack of papers. Suddenly, she paused, her eyes catching on something unexpected. "Hey, what's this?" she asked, pulling out a stack of neatly folded letters tied with a red ribbon.

Tsumiki untied the ribbon and picked up one of the letters. She unraveled it and began reading aloud.

"'My dearest darling, love of my life, the apple of my eye. This mission sucks. I really hate being here. I really wish I could just make the higher ups eat shit. But the sooner I finish, the faster I’ll come home. You take care, hm? Eat well. Make sure Megumi still isn’t upset about the white wolf costume. We’ll get him the black one next year. Make sure Tsumiki doesn’t forget to pick up her new ballet shoes. I miss you more with each passing day. Your absence makes the world feel gray and lifeless. I count the days until I can hold you again. Love your one and only husband that loves you in this entire world, Satoru.'"

Megumi's face twisted in discomfort. "Seriously? You wrote that? I thought there were phones by this point.”

“Writing love letters is nice, you know!” Tsumiki says, smiling as she looks tenderly at the letters. “It just shows that Satoru–san loves Gen–san! You’re such a romantic, Satoru-san!”

Satoru flushed, his face red as he was adjusting Satoshi in the carrier. "’miki’s right! And those were private! And yes, I wrote that. So what? You've never seen a husband that loves his wife, huh?”

Tsumiki giggled, continuing to read. "'PS. Your smile is the light that guides me through the darkness. I can't wait to see it again and bask in its warmth. Forever yours, Satoru.'"

Megumi groaned. "I can't believe this. You're like a love-struck teenager.”

"Hey, I was pretty young then. And nothing wrong about it. It's called being romantic," Satoru defended himself, trying to sound dignified despite his red face. "’sides…..She liked it. And she wrote back, let me be clear! Her words are just as sappy.”

Megumi shook his head, clearly overwhelmed. "I don't need to hear this."

Tsumiki, still amused, looked at another letter. "There are so many of these. How did you have time to write all of them?"

Satoru shrugged as he also took some of the letters in hand. "I have my ways. Plus, when you're away on missions, you have a lot of time to think about what's important. I liked being home, I like being with my wife and you guys. So, that’s what’s in here.”

Megumi didn’t want to admit it. But he was very glad that Satoru wrote about them. He sighed and instead muttered under his breath. "I thought you were supposed to be the strongest sorcerer, not the sappiest."

Satoru gave a dramatic sigh. "One can be both, Megumi. One can be both. With a wife like mine? You’d be multi-tasking it all.”

As they continued to sort through the mess, little Satoshi started fussing. Satoru bounced him gently, cooing softly. "It's okay, little guy. Daddy's just getting roasted by your big brother."

“It’s well deserved slander.”

“Don’t listen to your big brother, Satoshi. Love is always winning!”

Tsumiki smiled warmly. "It's sweet, Satoru–san. Really. It's nice to see this side of you."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." Satoru replied with a smirk, taking the letter and waving it around. "This is only for my wife and you guys. Keep it zipped. I have a reputation to maintain."

Megumi rolled his eyes again, but there was a small, reluctant smile on his face. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, sappy pants.”

“Hey, that’s not a good insult!”

As the day went on, they managed to make a dent in the clutter, uncovering more hidden gems of Satoru's sentimental side along the way. Despite the teasing and the awkwardness, there was a sense of tenderness that filled the room.

Satoru looked around at his students—his family—and felt a warmth in his chest that rivaled any love letter he had ever written. Even with the chaos, the mess, and the relentless teasing, this was his life. And he wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Alright, team," he said, standing up with Satoshi still strapped to his chest. He was giggling as he held his father’s finger. "Let's wrap this up. Who's up for some ice cream?"

Tsumiki and Megumi exchanged glances, then nodded.

"Fine," Megumi said with a sigh. "But you're paying."

Satoru grinned. "Deal. And hey, thanks for helping out today. It means a lot."

As they left the office, Tsumiki couldn't resist one last tease. "You know, Satoru–san, you should write another letter. Something like, 'Today, I survived my kids reading my love letters. Love, the strongest—and sappiest—sorcerer.'"

Satoru laughed, ruffling her hair. "Maybe I will, Tsumiki. Maybe I will."

127 notes · View notes

queensunshinee · 22 hours

Text

Time Of Our Lives || Part 9

warnings: SMUT! 18+!, dirty talk, p in v sex, oral sex, fingering, praise.

Part 9

"What did I miss?" Liana asked as she sat down, seeing the boys exchange looks. Sometimes they spoke without words. She always envied that connection. She didn’t have anyone who could understand her with just a nod or a blink or, in this case, a stare.

"Hello, Earth to Art and Patrick?" she tried to join in, but something about the current situation didn’t feel right. "It's my turn to go inside. I need to drink some water. You two catch up, it's been a while since you’ve seen each other," Art said without looking at her, causing Liana to frown as he walked away. "That was weird, right?" she asked Patrick, who responded with a half-smile. "When is Art not weird?" he said. "How are you?" he asked, turning his gaze back to her and seeing her give the widest smile she could offer anyone. "Do you forgive me?" she asked, moving to sit next to him, placing her head on his shoulder. "What do I have to forgive you for, Amanda?" he chuckled, tracing shapes on her shoulder while taking another sip of champagne. "I was terrible. The exams made me crazy," she tried to justify her behavior over the past month. "Do you know if you're leaving yet?" he asked. "I’ll know when we get back from vacation. I’m terrified," she murmured. On one hand, Liana desperately wanted that year in Oxford. She wanted to see Europe. The architecture. The atmosphere. The culture. She wanted to see something other than the American suburb she had lived in her whole life, with the same people and the same opinions and the same tennis. On the other hand, she didn’t want to break her parents’ hearts. Her parents who had always talked about Stanford and how she’d join the family business after she finished school, and her parents who were the best people she knew but whose dreams for her flew past them as if they were never there. And now there was Art too. Art, who in the past two days had made her feel things she had never felt before. Art, who in the months at Stanford had become an inseparable part of her life. Art, who made her stomach ache at the thought of not seeing him for a year. Art, who still didn’t know she was considering leaving. "You’ll pass that test, we both know you will," Patrick said calmly. "And then you'll conquer Europe, building by building." He chuckled, but his voice faded with each word. "And we'll stay here, missing you," he said, and she straightened up, looking at him. "I’m not going to die, you know," Liana rolled her eyes, trying to lighten the conversation. "No, you're just going to meet people much better than us, and I'm enough of a bastard to be worried about that," he said honestly. "I don’t think there are many people in the world better than you, Patrick," she concluded. The next day Art left. He texted her that a spot opened up in some tennis group he could join, and he didn’t want to miss the opportunity. That he’d see her at Stanford. When Liana tried to call, he didn’t answer. So they kept missing each other throughout the vacation, she trying to call just as he was going into practice or the shower or falling asleep, and him sending messages that he was okay, just busy. On the last day of the vacation, she received a message that her exam results had come in. She had been accepted. Liana cried. Which wasn’t anything special because objectively Liana cried a lot, but this time she cried out of excitement. All the effort she put in had paid off, and now she could prepare for the student exchange. She could make her dream come true, start being a real person in the world. The conversation with her parents was horrible. There were shouts and accusations, and her mother said they wouldn’t pay for this, which Liana had suspected might happen. Her father seemed more conciliatory but didn’t say much. "Do you think Mom will be mad at me for long?" she asked him on the way to the airport. If there was one thing Liana hated, it was that it was always obvious she had been crying. Her pale face would turn red, and her eyes would swell, sometimes for days. This was one of those cases. It could be said with confidence that Liana looked like she had been run over by a bus yesterday.

"I know it doesn’t look like it, but we’re proud of you. Mom will come around, don’t worry," her father hugged her as they got out of the car. "I want this so much, Dad," she sighed.

"I know, honey," he said, kissing the top of her head. He hated seeing the emotional turmoil his daughter was in. His daughter, who above all feared disappointing people. "I’ll come back to Stanford after that," she mumbled, feeling the lump in her throat take over again. "I don’t want her to hate me," she looked at him with teary eyes.

"She doesn’t hate you. Li, look at me." Her father tried to wipe her tears. "Your mother is a stubborn woman, and you’ll see that a month after you’re there, she’ll come visit you." He smiled, and she nodded, not sure she believed what he said. "Besides, you have another semester at Stanford. Make the most of it, maybe you’ll love the place as much as we did." He shrugged, seeing her take a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I love you, Dad," she hugged him again and started to walk away, hoping everything would calm down and her mother would eventually look at her like she did before she told her she was planning to leave. Art opened the door after five knocks, looking at her with a puzzled expression. "Did we have plans?" he asked. "Hey Arthur, I missed you too," she rolled her eyes and gave him a small kiss on the lips, seeing him close his eyes and deepen the kiss within seconds as he closed the door. "Hey," he smiled at her and moved her hair out of her face. "Have you been crying?" he asked after examining her. Art couldn’t stop himself from asking. It was like an instinct; seeing what he could do to make her feel better. But he was so mad at her that he didn’t really want to talk to her or know how she felt right now; after all, she didn’t care how he felt. He did want to fuck her. He wanted to feel like she was his. He was afraid he was a little addicted to the feeling of looking at her and feeling like she was entirely his. He was afraid that if she left, he wouldn’t feel that way again. He was afraid of losing.

"Did you know?" his mother asked on the phone. Her voice worried. "What?" he returned the question, panting after practice. "That Liana is planning to leave for Oxford? Did you know that?" she demanded the truth. And the truth was that he knew she was leaving. But he didn’t know where or when and he didn’t know it was official. His heart pounded faster. "Yes, I knew," he mumbled, not wanting to reveal how far he felt from Liana in reality. Not wanting to reveal how stupid he felt that of all people, Patrick knew before him. "How could you not say anything, Art, she's our Liana. How will she manage in England alone? She barely manages to find her way in the supermarket without getting lost," his mother sighed. And she was right. He knew she was right. And she wasn’t even their Liana; she was his Liana. And she was his Liana for exactly two days. What an idiot he is. "She’s a big girl. She can navigate the supermarket in England without getting lost. I have to go," he mumbled, angry at himself for still feeling the need to protect her. "Just tired from the flight," she smiled at him a tired smile and felt his lips leaving small kisses on her neck, causing her to close her eyes. "Can I help?" his voice was teasing as he took off her shirt without much resistance. Examining her for a second, as if trying to remember how she looked. "You're already helping," she smiled a genuine smile, and his lips were on her again, hungrier than she had felt him so far. "I want you so much, Li," he groaned into her mouth. His tongue intertwining with hers as if he had wandered for years in the desert and she was his source of water. "Do you want this?" he asked, as they moved to his bed and she nodded. In complete haze, at this point, she decided that Art Donaldson could do whatever he wanted with her. And it was a liberating decision. Knowing she was safe in his hands and he decided how good she could feel now. "Words, Liana," he demanded as he started taking off her jeans. She didn’t even notice she was already half-naked in front of him. "You're wearing too many clothes," she mumbled incoherently as his hand brushed over her panties. "You're already wet, Li?" his voice was amused as he took off his shirt. "Already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet," he whispered in her ear and heard her moan, which caused him to release a groan of his own. "Do you want this?" he asked again. This time his hand applied more pressure over her panties. "Art." Her voice was desperate. "Please," she whispered, and he bit his lip. Stopping himself from all the things he wanted to do with her. "Please, what?" he asked, his mouth close to hers, teasing, barely touching. He kissed her right cheek and then her left

"Touch me. Please," she almost cried out of frustration and desperation, exactly the way he wanted her. His. His again. And he felt desperate too, so her panties came off in a flash and he gave her exactly what she wanted. He heard her moan beneath him as his fingers moved inside her rhythmically. He felt how tight she was. He tried not to imagine his dick inside her, thinking he might not last. She was a virgin. He knew that. She had told him. He was going to be the first inside her. "So good for me, Li," he murmured and smiled, never taking his eyes off her. He didn't think anyone could look better than Liana did now, beneath him, eyes closed, desperate sounds escaping her, moaning his name. He was sure the student in the room next door was jerking off to the sound of her. He was sure no one in the world could resist Liana Levy when she looked like that beneath him. He was no different from anyone else. Almost captivated. Almost helpless. Just wanting to deliver. Just wanting her to always be like that for him. His lips roamed over her body until they reached her clit, while his hand sped up.

"You take me so well, Li," he said as the room filled with the sound of her fluids and moans.

"I'm going to-" she mumbled, her voice breaking, making him look up at her. He had to see her come. He had to remember this moment.

"Come for me, Li, come on. I want to see you," he demanded in the most authoritative voice he could muster, even though he felt himself melting under her influence.

"Art," she moaned again.

And he was right, her face in that moment was truly the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his 20 years of existence. Her half-open mouth, her eyes closed, slightly teary, her hand on her breast. It was a magnificent sight and he knew only he had seen her like this.

Her body shook and he gave one last kiss on her sensitive clit, then stood before her.

"Open your eyes, Li," he said, and she did exactly as he commanded. "Kiss me. Taste yourself." Another half-command with a smile and scheming eyes. Within seconds, her lips were on his, her tongue mingling with his intensely, just wanting more.

"I want to be inside you," he murmured, and she nodded. "Can I?" he asked. He had to ask. He knew she could say no and he would have to accept it, and if he were less greedy, he might even be satisfied with that anyway.

But he was so angry with her. He wanted her to know. He wanted her to know that just as he was hers, she was his. That she couldn't just ignore him like that. Dismiss him as if he didn't matter.

"Yes," she murmured into his mouth, feeling him smile against her.

"Yes, what?" he asked, teasing.

"Fuck me," she whispered, and it came out vulgar and blunt, uncharacteristic of the girl in front of him. She was even surprised by the words that left her mouth, her eyes widening for a moment before remembering it was Art and relaxing. She was safe with Art. He wouldn't use her words against her. It was okay for her to need him.

"I didn't hear you," he murmured, removing the rest of his clothes and moving to his desk to grab a condom. "I'm on this side of the room, Liana. You need to speak louder." He leaned against the wall as he put the condom on, taking a breath. He had to steady his breathing if he wanted to last inside her for more than three seconds.

"Please, Art. I want to feel you inside me," she said louder, more confidently, more desperately. He moved toward her. "Please fuck me," she looked him in the eyes and bit her lip, feeling almost small but also kind of powerful. He looked almost as desperate as she did as his hand traced her face and then her chest, stopping at her sensitive nipple, making her moan.

"That much, huh?" he asked, positioning the tip of his dick at her entrance and hearing her sigh in response. "Don't worry, I've got you. Are you going to be good for me, Li?" he asked, watching her nod in response. "Are you going to take me like you were made for me?" he asked again.

"Yes, please. Art." She was almost crying with frustration. Liana didn't know what to do to make him enter her already. To feel him. For him to fill her with himself. For him to be close to her. Part of her. She didn't know when she started feeling all these emotions for Art Donaldson, but now was not the time to figure it out. He began to slide into her.

"Oh, Art," she bit his shoulder, making him groan.

"Fuck, Liana. So tight. Fuck. Hang in there, baby, are you okay?" he asked, studying her.

"More," she mumbled. The pain didn't matter. She just wanted him. She wanted all of him. He did move more. A bit more each time. Another moan and another sigh each time until he was fully inside her. Their lips merged in their most sloppy kiss yet. They were one for a moment.

"You can move," she managed to say after a few seconds.

"Are you sure?" he asked, seeing her nod. "Fuck, Li. I won't last long like this," he murmured, his movements gentle. He was careful with her.

When he felt he was close and knew she wouldn't come from the first time someone inside her, he added a finger to play with her clit.

"Fuck, Art," she moaned his name for the umpteenth time.

"I know. You're doing such a good job, Li, taking care of me so well," he said, feeling her tighten around him, bringing him to the edge almost with her.

After a few seconds, he gently pulled out of her, seeing her panting and feeling just as spent. He took off the condom and walked it to the trash, finding his boxers on the way and putting them on. He saw the girl in front of him, completely naked. Completely his.

"When were you planning to tell me?" he asked, looking at her from a distance.

Liana was still in euphoria, her eyes half-closed, confused by the question. "What are you talking about?" she sounded amused, looking at him with a smile as he put on a shirt. For a moment, she felt fragile, not understanding how she was still completely naked while he was fully dressed in front of her.

"About leaving Stanford. About Oxford? I don't know. Maybe there are more things you'd like to tell me." His gaze was cold, making Liana freeze too. She felt her nakedness now. She understood why he was dressed and she wasn't. She was vulnerable right now.

"How long have you known?" she asked quietly, swallowing and searching for her clothes.

"My mom asked me about it yesterday," he said, never taking his eyes off her. "Do you know how stupid I felt when I lied and told her I knew?" he asked. His voice didn't rise, but the frustration was clear.

"Art, I found out two days ago," her eyes glistened and she breathed quickly, feeling everything slipping away from her. He was slipping away from her.

"You're lying," he stated with an eye roll, sitting down on the bed.

"Art," she knelt in front of him, studying his face. He showed no emotion, only coldness.

"It's okay, Liana. We both know what this is," he said, instinctively moving her hair out of her face.

"What is it?" she swallowed. She knew Art. She knew he was about to say something he'd regret, and yet she still pushed him to say it.

"It's me passing time until Tashi realizes she wants me," he said, seeing her expression change to one he'd never seen on her before. She moved his hand from her face quickly and scooted back on the floor as fast as he didn't know she was capable of, as if afraid of his touch.

"Wow." She swallowed, looking at him, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry if I hurt you," she tried to salvage the situation, and he chuckled.

"Come on, Liana." He rolled his eyes and lay down on the bed, no longer looking at her.

"You just fucked me, Art." She felt sick. It was the first time she had slept with someone. He knew that. She felt so humiliated.

"I know. I was there, and if I remember correctly, you asked for it. More precisely, you begged-"

"Shut up. Just shut up." She cut him off and stood up. She couldn't hide her tears anymore.

"Why did you do it? We could have just continued meeting at family dinners. Seeing each other in the hallway and occasionally saying hello. Why did you do it?" It came as a sob. She had never felt so humiliated. It was like a truck had run over her.

"I was bored, and you were cute, and let's be honest, a little desperate," her hand found its way to his cheek with a force neither of them knew she possessed. She wanted to apologize automatically because she wasn't violent, but it didn't come out.

"I hate you so much. I will never forgive you. You are the worst person I know." She mumbled and moved toward the door.

"At least I beat Patrick to it," he found himself saying. He had to have the last word in every argument.

"No, Art. You lost to Patrick. Even in twenty years, you won't have half the character and heart that Patrick has already. You're a complete loser compared to him, and I hope you never forget that." She said without stuttering while he didn't take his eyes off her, swallowing hard, finally hearing the door slam.

The moment Liana reached her room, after passing a considerable number of people who looked at her with worried expressions, some even trying to ask if she was okay, she collapsed on the floor and let out the loudest cry that had probably ever escaped her. She felt dirty. Almost used. She had trusted the wrong person.

She picked up the phone to call the only person she thought could understand her.

"Liana, are you okay?" Patrick sounded concerned and confused, probably because of the late hour.

"He really hurt me and I didn't know who else to call," she managed to say through her tears, hearing Patrick sigh, as if silently saying he knew. He knew this would happen.

Writing this part kinda broke me. I know Art was being cruel, but well, he was acting out without thinking about the consequences. Got your requests and maybe on the weekend we'll give Liana/Patrick/Art some more layers. Keep sending me questions and such. I LOVE it. Hope you're still enjoying and again, if you wanna join the taglist, say the word ❤️

taglist: @swetearss @ganana @yoitsme-04 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @serenadingtigers

#art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers fic #challengers #tashi duncan #art donaldson smut

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marcysgf · 1 day

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attention.

★ – satoru wants your attention ;)

18+, mdni !!

☆ – this is my first time writing smut, sorry if it's bad :p pluzzz english is not my first language !

– ★ –

you knew you should've known better than to invite your friends to go out with you. not that they were bad or something, much the contrary. it's just that you knew he would come along, he always did. even after you broke up, a few months ago, he'd still make sure to go to every party you've been thinking about going to.

if it was just him being there, it'd be completely alright, you weren't children and could stay at the same room for a few hours without fighting. it would all be perfectly fine if satoru wasn't an attention seeker, doing his best to catch your attention and even ruining your potential dates.

it was always the same: every time a guy would even try to even look at you or try to approach you, he'd just wrap his arm around your waist in a possessive way while staring directly at the guy, or he'd just kiss the first person he saw in front of you, just to see if it'd bother you. it always did, even though you'd rather die than admit it. and, unfortunately for you, tonight was not different.

you were laughing at a joke a guy had just told you, a margarita in one hand while the other one landed on his large arm, a small smirk on your lips as you watched him practically eye fucking you. if you were lucky enough, you'd end up having more fun than planned at the end of the night. but, of course, all your plans were ruined again as soon as the white haired man came in scene.

“princess, you said you'd only get some drinks and come back, why are you taking so long?” his whiny voice echoed in your ears as his face approached your neck, leaving a wet kiss on it while his long arms snaked around your waist, pulling your body closer to his. “oh, and who would that be?”

you gritted your teeth in annoyance at the man behind you, holding the urge to punch him right in face. you could feel the smirk in his voice as he stared at the poor guy, who watched the scene with a confused expression. “oh baby, is this guy bothering you? knew i shouldn't have left you alone, now everyone thinks they could talk to such a pretty thing like ya. now, buddy, will ya excuse us? need to have my girlfriend back.”

“satoru, fuck off. we already broke up months ago, stop acting like we're together.” you protested, trying to leave his embrace but he only tightened it, squeezing your waist.

“umm, sorry, i should leave now.” the guy said sheepishly, his face beet red as he quickly left the two of you alone.

and you just sat there in disbelief, your hand gripping the cup so tightly you thought it might break at any moment. gojo laughed childishly, making your even more angrier as you slapped his arm, rolling your eyes as he whined in your ear, telling you how mean you are.

“satoru, what in the fucking hell is wrong with you?!”

“what? can't i protect what's mine?” he answered simply, leaving a playful bite at your earlobe.

“i'm not yours and you know that damn well. stop acting like an asshole every time we go out!”

“is that so?” he smirked again, letting go of your body just to stand in front of you. his large hand carefully held your chin as it pulled you closer to his face, the delicious mix of his expensive cologne and the smell of the alcohol on his breath invading your nose. “if you hate it so much, why do you keep inviting me, baby? hm? hoping to wake up in my bed again?”

“fuck you, satoru.” you harshly reply, wanting to leave him alone but not being able to move a single muscle, your own body betraying you. your eyes flick to his rosy lips, then back to his blue eyes again. ignoring the way your brain yelled at you to stop, your body moved closer to his, your lips softly brushing against his before closing the gap, a quiet moan leaving both your mouths at the contact.

and that is how you ended up in this situation: your legs thrown over his shoulders as his hips hit the back of your thighs repeatedly, the loud sound of slapping skin echoing through his room. satoru's grip on your plush thighs were almost bruising the skin as his cock bullied the inside of your pussy, his tip kissing all the right spots with every thrust.

“fuck, baby, you're so hot.” he managed to say between his moans “missed– fuck– missed your pretty pussy... always take me so well.”

you moan loudly at his raspy voice, your pussy clenching hard around his dick as your hand sneaked between your legs to rub quick circles on your clit. it's barely been five minutes and you could already feel the knot tightening inside your stomach, your legs shaking lightly. and, of course, satoru noticed, how could he not when it was so hard to move when your pussy was squeezing his dick so much?

“gonna cum, pretty girl?” he smirk, his hand replacing your on your throbbing clit. “just f'me, right? you're all mine. bet that guy wouldn't even be able to satisfy you, you'd probably leave unsatisfied and come back to me, huh.”

“fuck, 'toru, just like that.” your moans are like music to his ears, and he makes sure to get them out of you with every move of his hips. your hands massaged your boobs through the lacy bra, pinching your sensitive nipples as you feel his cock massaging repeatedly your g-spot. your high came shortly after a few strokes of his, your whole body shaking in pleasure.

you whine loudly at the overstimulation, his cock never leaving your sensitive cunt, fucking it mercilessly. satoru groaned in your neck, biting it hard while he came inside you, his thrusts slowing down and becoming sloppier, his sticky cum painting your insides, as he was making a mess because he wouldn't stop even after cumming.

“t-toru, ah... too much, baby” he laughed quietly at your whiny voice, finally stopping the attack on your pussy. he slowly pulled back, his now soft dick leaving your warm cunt as he smiled at the mess he made.

“hmm, would've ruined your date earlier if i knew i could get to fuck you like this.” he joked while teasing your sensitive entrance with his long fingers, watching you shudder. he then kneeled down in front of you, his mouth leaving a wet kiss on your clit. “we're not done yet, pretty, need to make up for the time we lost.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut

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lovelynim · 3 days

Text

All's fair in love and war

Honkai Star Rail - Aventurine x Caelus

A/N: This time I'm happy to post an official commission for none other than @eliankrios himself. Thanks for being such a kind customer and for your patience and understanding!!! I hope you like it!

Summary: Countering Aventurine's luck takes more than just skill, but if you're going to play dirty, you shouldn't let yourself get caught...

Word count: 2975 words

Caelus was ticklish - a fact that Aventurine happened to discover by accident, but one that he was particularly interested in.

The problem, however, resided in the fact that there wasn’t a way to test it by himself. Aventurine had met Caelus not long ago during his business trip in Penacony and his interactions with the mr. Stellaron were limited to a few flirts or really-well-intended gifts. Tickle him was not an option - at least, not until now.

“W-what?” Caelus gasped, nearly choking on the SoulGlad - which Aventurine bought him - and smiling shyly, looking at the man next to him. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No,” Aventurine chuckled charmingly, resting his head on his hand. “I’m just curious about it, my friend, and I decided to make a move. Maybe 20.000 will do, then?” He smirked, loving the flustered face on the other guy’s face. This was a bold move, but Caelus didn’t push him away so… there could be a chance. And who better than Aventurine in taking risks?

“I-I’m not talking about money,” Caelus mumbled, placing the bottle down on the counter. “You can’t… buy your way into tickling me, that would be weird,” he explained, surprised at the words that were coming out of his mouth. Caelus never expected to use them in the same sentence, but here he was.

“Hmm, would it?” Aventurine looked away, pretending to think about it. Of course he expected Caelus to refuse such an offer - he wasn’t really the prude kind of guy, but being offered money in exchange for getting tickled would set anyone off. “I apologize then, friend. Could there be another way?”

“Another… way? Of tickling me?” Caelus’s upper lip twitched slightly, only finding this situation more and more confusing. No one ever needed… a way. It would be just him fooling around his friends and it happened. And Aventurine was his friend. Why couldn’t he just do it… normally? “I…”

Aventurine chuckled again, sitting upright before finishing his drink, placing the cup over a couple of bills. “Hahah, your face is priceless. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to weird you out. Forge-”

“Wait,” Caelus said, with a hint of excitement in his voice. His eyes sparkled, as if he just had an idea.

Aventurine arched his eyebrow, tilting his glasses a bit and looking over them to meet Caelus’s eyes. “Hm? Do you want another drink, my friend?”

“No, not that,” Caelus chuckled, shaking his head, “you can tickle-”

A gasp left Aventurine’s mouth, unable to hide the content he felt by hearing those words. “Oh, really? Hahah, why did you change your mind, my-”

Just as he was about to reach for Caelus, he moved his hands around and grabbed Aventurine’s wrist instead. The confidence in his smirk sent a shiver down Aventurine’s eyes - he knew that kind of expression. It was the kind of expression people made when betting all the chips in their hands. The blonde felt his heart skip a beat and looked down to Caelus’s hand tightly holding his wrist.

“If,” Caelus added, “you can beat me in a game.”

“...oh,” Aventurine couldn’t deny he was impressed. When did Caelus get so bold? Not that he disliked it or anything, but it certainly did something to the chemistry of his brain. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Caelus nodded, letting go of Aventurine’s hand and resting his own over his hips. “But! If you can’t, then I will tickle you instead.”

This was getting interesting. To think Caelus would deny his money for a game… “If you want to play, my friend, then I'm more than happy to be your opponent, but I will need you to state the terms more clearly,” Aventurine mused, sitting back down and crossing one knee over the other, “I can’t join a game if I don’t know the rules, after all.”

“Hmm… just one round,” Caelus explained, gazing into the distance as he tried to think. He was slowly starting to regret just suggesting it without thinking twice. “A-and the winner gets to… tickle the other for as long as he wants. Sounds good, no?”

“Hahah, it does, my friend,” Aventurine laughed, amused. He was thinking of a couple of minutes for that amount of money, but Caelus’s offer proved to be even better. “Still, one question remains: what game are we playing? Poker? Roulette? Baccarat?”

Caelus's eyes widened. He should’ve really thought about it before.

He had nearly zero experience in that kind of game - he just came in contact with it recently thanks to Aventurine, who always managed to sneak a round or two while they hung out together. Still, those times were enough for him to know that Aventurine was incredibly lucky and never - or, at least, rarely - lost.

If they were to play something like that, Caelus knew he didn’t stand a chance. He needed to turn the tides in his favor. Unless…

“Poker. A round of poker will do, right?”

“Mhm,” Aventurine nodded, taking off his glasses, “I think I have a spare game in my room. Would you accompany me, my friend? We can play there and… let the victor enjoy his prize there as well, away from the curious eyes, hm?”

“S-sounds good,” Caelus chirped, hoping his plan would work out…

…

How?

Aventurine looked at the cards in his hands and at the ones Caelus just showed him. It didn’t make sense, he could swear Caelus was bluffing just now and-

“W-woah, beginners’ luck! Hahah,” Caelus giggled brightly, letting himself fall back in Aventurine’s bed, enjoying the comfort of the soft mattress. “I could swear I was going to lose that, you looked so scary!”

“B-but…” Aventurine muttered, slowly taking off his glasses and double checking the cards: an ace, a king, a queen, a jack and a ten. Royal Flush. A perfect victory for mr. Stellaron. “H-how did you get this hand?!”

“Hm?” Caelus muttered, lifting his body and supporting it on his elbows as he looked at the blonde. “I was just lucky, I guess.” He moved his shoulders slightly, shrugging at it. Aventurine pressed his lips shut, his hands clenching at the bedsheets.

He couldn’t believe that outcome. Was Caelus actually an experienced player all this time? Did he fail to notice something? Just as Aventurine was about to start to overthink, his eyes caught a glimpse of Caelus throwing the cards away, shoving them off the bed.

“Cae-”

“So,” the guy positioned himself between Aventurine’s legs, resting his hands over his knees. His face, inches apart from the blonde’s, had a smirk instead of his friendly smile playing on his lips. “Do I get to enjoy my prize now?”

Aventurine widened his eyes in realization. “W-well, I- hngh!”

A strangled squeal left his mouth before he could voice any concern. Aventurine quickly eyed Caelus’s hands squeezing his legs, just above his knee caps. His touch felt almost electric, the sensation running from where Caelus’s fingers touched him straight up to his brain.

Aventurine jerked his legs, throwing himself back in a vain attempt to escape the other man’s touch. Caelus seemed amused and, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was about to pay the price for losing their bet, he would be flustered by the sight.

“Oh, so you are ticklish!” Caelus cheered, crawling a little closer to Aventurine and cornering him against the soft mountain of pillows behind his back. “I wasn’t so sure about it because of how quickly you agreed to play.”

“C-Caelus, wait a sec- aAHAH!” An uncharming, loud cackle echoed around the bedroom when Caelus grabbed Aventurine by his waist, pulling the blonde a little closer. “I-I wahahant another- ahAHAh, r-round!”

“No happening,” Caelus smirked, his fingers slowly picking up the pace and starting to wiggle against Aventurine’s sides, fiddling with the thin, delicate fabric of Aventurine’s shirt.

Caelus’s touch was curious, fitting for someone who was treating that moment as some sort of experiment. The idea of Aventurine being ticklish didn’t really cross his mind until the man himself inquired about it.

Beginning to dig into Aventurine’s lower sides, Caelus couldn’t help but let out small gasps of surprise when the other’s reaction exceeded his expectations. “Heheh, is Churin a little ticklish right heeeere? ~” He cooed, his hands taking turns between poking and clawing, covering all the extent from Aventurine’s hips to his lowest set of ribs with gentle, playful tickles.

And, for the Amber Lord, how much it tickled. Barely seconds having his body touched like that were enough to make Aventurine’s facade crumble. Added to the tickling, the teasing made his cheeks flush, contrasting the color of his golden hair. “S-slohohow dahAHAHAWN!!” He whined, gritting his teeth while hoping it would help him control his reactions.

But it didn’t.

Each poke and each stroke sent a new wave of that funny feeling - not exactly pain nor pleasure, but something that made his stomach swirl with butterflies and his head spin, leaving Aventurine laughing and euphoric.

Caelus, who had already made himself comfortable in Aventurine’s lap by that time, was also surprised, yet amused. Maybe it was thanks to the drinks the blonde had earlier, but tickling Aventurine was rather… easy. Not because of how ticklish he was, but there was almost… no resistance. “Churin,” Caelus cooed, almost pouting as if he was disappointed, “why are you not fighting back? Do you just want me to keep tickling you that bad? ~”

Of course, the only answer he could get out of Aventurine at that point was him shaking his head frantically. Still, if he would dare to speak the truth, maybe he wouldn’t deny the accusation so promptly. “C-CahAHAhaelus!! W-wahahait a sec- ahAHa, s-second!” He pleaded, struggling to keep up with the energetic pace of the other’s hands, that seemed to flee from one spot to the other.

In a moment, Caelus was pinching Aventurine’s waist, making his legs kick out in reflex and throw any remaining cards off the mattress. Then, if he tried to reach for those nimble hands and stop them, they would quickly move to his stomach, poking around his navel in a way that made Aventurine whine in his laughter.

If Aventurine, after that, tried to suck in his stomach and curl up to defend his poor, ticklish body, Caelus’s hands would climb up his ribs, clawing at them and playing them as some sort of loud, but - according to Caelus - somehow cute, instrument. Of course, trying to stop his hands there would inevitably end with Caelus tickling Aventurine’s underarms, prodding and vibrating his fingers into that soft spot and making the blonde literally shriek, turning his cheeks even redder.

All this was happening too fast, cycling over and over before Aventurine could get used to any of that.

“AHAhahah, p-plehehease!” Aventurine laughed, weakly tapping at the back of Caelus’s arms, “I c-cahan’t breheh- eheh, breathe!” He gasped, feeling small tears of mirth clinging onto his lashes and hanging on the corner of his eyes.

Aeons, why did he even agree with such terms in the first place?

Maybe because he was blinded by the confidence in his trust and didn’t properly consider the negative outcome - which was clearly proving itself to be more than he could handle. Maybe he, indeed, allowed the alcohol to get the best of him and his rational side ended up left in reality.

Or, last but not least, his crush for Caelus made him stupid enough to think he would be able to handle getting tickled. After all, besides him, Caelus was also smiling, laughing and even trying to tease him with that silly nickname he came up with during one of the nights they hung out.

Well, whatever it may be, the fact was that Aventurine was also ticklish. Perhaps even more than Caelus. And letting himself simply get tickled like that… definitely wasn’t the best of his ideas.

“What’s wrong, Chu~ rin~?” Caelus mumbled, finally showing the blonde some mercy and, instead of restlessly ravaging his torso, changing his hands’ motion to just some light squeezing on Aventurine’s sides. “Does it tickle a lot?”

“I-it dohohohes!” He groaned, his rest resting tiredly against the pillows. His cheeks were already feeling a tad sore and Aventurine couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so much. “C-Cahahaelus, you- hnngh, ah! C-c’mohohon!”

“No no no,” Caelus teased with a grin, not letting Aventurine get too comfortable as he shifted his focus back to his ribs. “I won the bet fair and square! And I want to tickle you more!”

He sounded like a spoiled brat acting like that - not that Aventurine didn’t enjoy spoiling him rotten whenever they went shopping, but this request in particular was just too hard to attend! “J-just- ahAHaha, just a breheheak! You can t-tihihickle m- ahAhAHA, I wahAhahasn’t done tahahalking!”

Caelus stuck his tongue out while grinning cheekily, moving his hands to tickle Aventurine under his arms again. The terms were clear, there was no room for negotiating breaks or things like that now. Caelus was having just too much fun with this new fancy squeaky toy to consider a break.

Whether or not it was possible to die inside a dream, Aventurine felt like he was going to find out the answer really soon if he didn’t get Caelus to stop. His limbs, already weakened, couldn't do much against the restless fingers roaming and tickling his body, making his head spin - probably because of the lack of air.

Then, with what seemed to be one last desperate attempt of saving himself, Aventurine tugged at Caelus’s jacket, pulling him with all the strength he had left. He wasn’t exactly sure what he would do after that, but as long as it gave him a break, it should be enough.

What followed, whoever, seemed to be another episode of Aventurine’s luck saving his skin. As Caelus planted his hands against the bedpost to avoid crashing into Aventurine, something slipped out of his sleeve. Judging by mr. Stellaron’s desperate expression, that was…

“...a-a card?” Aventurine mumbled, holding the card between his fingers.

“W-what?!” Caelus squeaked, nervous and not-suspicious-at-all. “H-how did it end up there? Hahah…”

Aventurine smirked and a chuckle escaped his lips. He tossed the card aside and couldn’t help but to laugh a little louder. “Ah, my friend… you never fail to amaze me, do you?”

Cheating.

Right, how did he not think about something like that earlier? It probably happened when he was too distracted by Caelus’s clumsy and cute card shuffling tricks to notice that the cards that “accidentally” fell off the bed didn’t return to the stack.

When Aventurine sighed, done laughing at the picture that just formed inside his head, he looked up to meet Caelus’s gaze, filled with anxiety and fear. “S-so… you’re not mad?”

“Of course not, my friend,” Aventurine smiled, cupping one of Caelus’s cheeks. “Remember? ‘Go ahead, use me as you wish, even stab me in the back when you see fit. Exploitation and treachery are simply tools of the trade’... and so is cheating, I suppose.”

Caelus sighed in relief, making the mistake to already jump to the conclusion that his actions wouldn’t have consequences. Of course, he was wrong.

Aventurine moved his hands down, from Caelus’s cheek to his shoulder, and pushed the guy back, making him fall back-first in the mattress. “But, my friend, you forgot that I don’t make deals that don’t pay off.”

“C-Churin, wait a sehEHEHCOND!” Caelus cackled, quickly shooting his arms down and pressing them against his body when Aventurine tickled his armpits. “AHAHA- I’M SOHOHORRY!”

“Hm? What for?” Aventurine tilted his head, faking a confused expression as he savored both the taste of revenge and sound of Caelus’s laughter, along with the feeling of having him giggling under his touch. “I need you to elaborate, my friend, loud and clear. What are you sorry for?”

“F-For cheheheating! AhAHAah, C-Chuhuhurin!” Caelus squealed, his voice cracking slightly when Aventurine’s other hand began to target his waist, making him trash and giggle like a little kid.

Unlike Caelus, Aventurine wasn’t so energetic or nimble when it came to tickling. Instead, he was going to spot after spot, making sure to put them through some extensive testing and enjoying how each of them made Caelus laugh differently.

Tickling Caelus under his arms would make him cackle loudly and, sometimes, even make his laughter go quiet. Down to his ribs and side, Caelus’s reactions were less extreme, but it was still so easy to get him laughing and squirming around - it also made him look the cutest in Aventurine’s opinion.

His favorite one, so far, were his thighs. As Aventurine sat on top of Caelus’s knees, his hands could claw and pinch at every inch of Caelus’s thighs. Tickling him there was surprisingly fun since he would try to reach for Aventurine's hands, only to fall back in a fit of laughter when he noticed he couldn’t reach them. Of course, it was also the perfect chance to tease and touch him there.

While putting all his body through a test, Aventurine also managed to squeeze a couple secrets out of Caelus, getting to know even more than he first planned to. “Sigh, so you planned cheating in our game from the very beginning, my friend?”

“Y-yehehes!” Caelus cried out softly, giggling tiredly as Aventurine’s thumbs dug deep into the sides of his legs. “B-but thahahahat’s all! I prohoHOhomise!”

“My, ‘that’s all’? Of course it is, it’s everything we did today, my friend. And you were cheating the whole game!” Aventurine feigned an offended tone, sneaking one hand under Caelus’s leg to pinch the back of his thigh while the other pinched his knee cap. “Since you’re so eager about my games, maybe it’s time for you to learn how we deal with cheaters in the casino ~”

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail tickling #caelus #aventurine #caelus x aventurine #avencae #ticklish!aventurine #lee!aventurine #switch!aventurine #ler!aventurine #lee!caelus #ticklish!caelus #switch!caelus #ler!caelus #tickle fic #commission #nim's coffee shop #to: eliankrios

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polyestercleaner · 11 hours

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Slow Touch⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

|Summary:You go out on a "date" with Joost thinking it would be an average date, little did you know it would be more than just average.

|Content Warning⚠️: Smut, Fingering, joost being a gentle dom

You open your eyes to the sun grazing you, you groan in exhaustion as you slowly adjust to the lighting in your room, you slowly turn your head to the side, the clock reads out, 10AM, how early, this isn't when you usually get up, but you accept your fate for today, you get up and walk towards the bathroom, the reflection is merely you, your hair is a completely Bush of sticks, your eyes are puffy and tired, "what the fuck." You sigh to yourself before heading back to your room, you sit down on your bed as you plan to go back to sleeping, but that thought flies away once you hear the noise of your phone buzzing, your eyes open wide as you grab your phone quickly, it's a text from... Joost! He's a close friend, you've known him for over a year now, and as much as you lied to yourself, you knew you liked him and you knew there was something going on between you two. You quickly tap on his text.

Heya! Just wanted to ask if you wanna come with to the Cafe! You and me, my treat. You decide!(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ ps:if it's a yes meet me at 11:30

You shudder in excitement, you wanted this for so long now. He was BASICALLY asking for a date! You held your phone so tightly and your hands you were sure you're gonna break it, you smiled to yourself as you thought of what to say.

You and me? Sure! I'll be there, just don't be late,also could you get a pack of cigarettes? I ran out of 'em, thanks!(ゝз╹)

You put your phone down as you ran to your closet, pulling out a white dress and black heels, you quickly got dressed and brushed your hair enough to make it look tidy and neat, you pulled your purse and closed the door, you checked the time and it was already 11:20, "fuck I'm gonna be late!" You grumbled as you ran towards the Cafe, it was a 10 minute walk and yet with these heels your attempts at running were completely useless, you reached the Cafe gasping for air, you caught a glimpse of joost sitting at the Cafe, earphones intact and phone in hand, you walked towards him as you hugged him, "hey!" He let out, each hug you've ever given him or he's ever given you made your heart thump fast, always. You sat down infront of him as he gazed at your body, "well aren't you all dolled up and pretty huh?" You giggled to yourself as you put down your purse next to you, the waiter made his way towards your table, you quickly looked up at him as he asked you what you'd like, you smiled and asked for a strawberry smoothie and pancakes with blueberries, as you ordered for your food you could feel joost's eyes burning into you, watching every movement as your eyes slowly fluttered and as your finger moved each time you wanted to add something to what you wanted to order, you looked hot. And he had to admit that to himself, he was knocked out of his thoughts once the waiter asked for his turn of food.

"Dont be late huh?" You groaned, "it was the heels fault okay!" He laughed out, you'd always warn him about punctuality when you can't even stick to what you say most of the time, it was always funny, time goes by, 20 minutes, simply you two eating and laughing and chatting, what could be better than this? "Do you wanna go to the park next to this Cafe?" You smiled, he nodded in response, "hell yeah!" You both got up, joost places the money down, "oh come on! Thanks that's really sweet" he shrugs in response, a smile plastered on his face "i told you it's my treat didn't I? Ja?" You walk away together, making your way to the park, sitting down at an empty bench, the trees were absolutely gorgeous, a beautiful mix of green all around, you felt so tense for so long that for once you felt good. With him.

Joost pulls out a cigarette, lighting it up and taking a drag, you sit in silence for a moment, the sounds of birds chirping filling your ears, "you know your really pretty." You continue starring forward, you didn't wanna believe you just said that, you mentally slap yourself, joost tips his head to the side before turning to look at you, taking a drag from his cigarette "oh ja? Is that so?" He smirks at you, you don't stare back though, you nod, "yeah". "Well nothing could be as beautiful as you. Alright?" You can see the smoke coming out of his mouth as he talks, he's gorgeous truly, "can I?" You turn your head to meet his gaze, gesturing to the cigarette, "ja" you take the cigarette into your fingers before taking a drag, you coughed a little, smoking wasn't something you always did. You felt a wet droplet on your forehead, "Huh?"

Joost looks at you, the droplets multiplying, it was clear that it was "raining, it's raining" he chuckled, "we better get going huh?" You quickly got up,"fuck! It's getting worse! We better run!" He quickly pulls your hand before guiding you out of the park, you both giggle as the rain becomes more intense, the sound of thunder waving through the city, "mine or yours!" He practically yells at you, "Yours!" You quickly make your way to joosts house as he opens the door, he closes the door quickly, sighing and gasping for air as you took off your heels, joost following along, "gee that was crazy!" You let out, you both stopped for a moment, starring into eachother, you can tell you synced up in that second because immediately you crash lips and start making out, he roughly pushes you against the wall, his tounge pushing into your mouth, you didn't put up a fight for dominance, not one bit, his hand roaming your body as he gropes your tits, you whimper out as he slowly kisses your neck, "come on." He pulls you by the hand, guiding you upstairs to his room, "sit down liefde" you quickly sit down as he takes off his jacket, his hair all soft and slightly wet, the thunder was clearly still there, rain hitting the window and producing a mystical sound, one you atleast thought was definitely mystical. You unzip your dress as joost slowly pulls it off of your body, leaving you in your black bra and panties, joost bends down to unclip your bra, slipping it off before bending down, his finger hovering over the hem of your panties, "can I take this off too pretty?" You nod slowly, your exhaustion from all the running was evident, he slips off the panties and spreads your legs gently, getting back up, you look up at him, eyes fluttering gently, hooded and cheeks all red and lips parted in a gentle manner, your the image of beauty and he knew it, he brushes a thumb over your lip, "are you exhausted schatje?" You whimper gently, nodding, he slowly presses his body against you, forcing you to lay down, he places both hands on your knees and spread them wide open for him, "gonna make you feel good okay doll?" You nod once again, he bends down , gently rubbing at your clit, you immediately let out a soft whimper, moans and gentle whispers of his name, he licks two of his fingers before slowly rubbing one down your cunt, sliding it in, he pumps it in and out inside of you, you feel his second finger plunge inside of you, you grip the sheets as you groan, your in a daze and the pleasure your feeling is making it worse, your eyes flutter, your spitting out incoherent sentences, you suddenly feel his breath inch closer to your pussy, you whimper once you felt his tounge lick a long strip from down to up, "God you taste amazing" hid thumb still rubbing circles at your puffy clit, you can feel your cheeks heating up as he continues gently pumping 2 fingers in and out of you while sucking your pretty clit, what more do you want other than for joost to completely fuck you and eat you out, your back arches as you instinctively roll your hips, You feel yourself inching closer to the edge as you let out a whimper, "joost! Fuck...m'close" your words are shaky, almost uncertain, your hands roam down to his hair, gripping harshly, you hear him groan and whimper, he's clearly enjoying himself and enjoying the way your pathetically begging for him to let you cum, your legs start trembling as you feel yourself finally get enveloped with that warm good feeling, your thighs close up around his head as you cum on his face, his groans still evident, you whimper and shudder, your thighs slowly parting as to let joost breath, you look down at a smirking joost, head tilted to the side, pussy drunk and completely head over heels for you, "come on, let me fuck you okay?" ...

Side note: if you think you have more requests, for ANY character, or for joost, send a request over! Hope ya enjoyed (´ε｀ )♡

Extra: I apologize if any of this is corny? Or not well written, the first version was good before it got deleted, I rushed over this. Promise there's better to come. Thanks!

#joost klein smut #small artist #smut #smoking #joost klein #joostice #tumblr fyp #fypシ #fyp #style #story #free joost

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save-the-villainous-cat · 10 hours

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Hero and healer Villian are married. Villian doesn't want hero to go on dangerous mission, hero goes anyway and Villian due to their anger says NEVER COME BACK HERE AGAIN. hero makes a small mistake on mission and is brutally whipped by their superiors but Villian has no idea. They meet at a gala where things get hot. And when Villian touches hero's back just slightly, that is when they feel it. And hero thinks Villian doesn't care at all what happened to them.

Bonus: Villian's healing hurts even more than getting hurt, and there's no way they're letting their partner go without healing them first.

"Please," the villain said, no, begged between kisses. "Please don't leave me ever again. I refuse to let go of you."

"I thought you were mad at me," the hero said. They sat up on the villain's hips and searched for a way to get under the villain's clothes with eager fingers. "I thought you hated me."

"God, no. I was worried. I was so worried." The villain was (thankfully) nearly done with taking off the hero's clothes. They couldn't fight this burning, that scorching feeling in their chest and this horrible longing they had been feeling for the past week. One week without the hero was, indeed, torture. "I am so sorry for everything. I will make it up to you, I promise."

They pulled the hero against their chest and kissed them, losing themselves on the hero's lips.

Hell, this was their spouse. This was their hero. The sheer thought of being without them was devastating. It was something unspeakable, something blasphemous. At times, the villain felt like they couldn't breathe without them. As if they could only live when they shared a breath with them.

They had found the couch in an abandoned room. Or better, the hero had known about it and lured the villain away from the gala. Once the villain had seen them, their senses had zeroed in on them, completely discarding everything else around them. Their plans, their schemes - all of it was forgotten.

Utterly satisfied, the villain closed their eyes as their hands were ghosting over the hero's clothed back. The warmth, the smell, the love. It was too good to be true. The villain had spent their last nights shaking and freaking out. Rest had not come easily to them. Some time around four in the morning, they had been too exhausted to stay awake.

When the hero hadn't come back, they had been sure they had been killed. It was a miracle to feel them on top of them now.

And the villain wouldn't take their hands off them for a long, long time.

"I love you," the villain whispered against their spouse's neck. "Let's go home."

"I need you first," the hero said. They took the villain's hand that was on their back and moved it further down until the villain grinned.

"Is that so? Do you want me down here?" Their eyes dropped to the hero's lips but something seemed to be off.

The villain knew their spouse's preferences, they knew everything about them and although they appreciated the hero's advances towards them, it was too quick.

Usually, the hero was a talkative person. Someone who wouldn't leave a conflict hanging in mid-air. But today, they had basically thrown themselves at the villain. They were holding onto them as if the villain was the last thing between them and sweet hell.

It was concerning.

"How are you?" the villain asked softly but the hero only replied with rough kisses that seemed more like a cry for help than desire. The villain pushed their spouse away gently. "Hey, how are you?"

"I'm okay, baby."

"What happened?"

"My phone died and I had to work..." the hero said. They thought about something. "It was a longer mission, I'm really sorry."

With a hand on the villain's chest, they pushed them back into the couch and leaned in for another kiss.

But the villain was sort of an expert when it came to lying. Although the villain wanted them, although they really wanted them, the hero’s wellbeing was the most important thing in the world. They knew their spouse hated it. The crying, the cursing — they hated being healed and to some degree, the villain was sure they hated the villain’s powers, too.

Admittedly, the villain hadn’t been a very nice person in the past. Most of the time they'd torture information out of people. Opening wounds and healing them had been one of their many tactics. They couldn’t even tell if they were ashamed of their actions.

"I'm sorry," the villain said. "I'm sorry we fought. I was concerned and angry and...I shouldn't have said those things to you. Whatever happens, we can face it together."

The hero didn't seem that eager anymore. Instead, the villain was pretty sure they could see how glassy their eyes were.

The villain moved their hand slightly. They didn’t need words to understand their hero.

"Can I?" they asked as their hand ghosted over the hero's back once again. The hero looked away. "I know you're scared."

"Please don't be mad."

"You know me better than that," the villain responded. They took the hero's hand and pressed it against their chest. "I need to heal you if you're injured."

"I missed you," the hero said, suddenly heartbroken. "I missed you so much."

They looked like they were about to cry and the villain's heart shattered just as much.

"Is it that bad?" they asked carefully and the hero only nodded as teardrops streamed down their face.

The villain mumbled something close to "oh, honey" and wiped the tears away. Something inside them cracked. Seeing their hero this broken, this vulnerable, was surprising. No villain had ever managed to break them like this.

"Mind if we switch positions?" the villain asked. Their brain was trying to work out who was behind all of this.

Who would do this to their hero?

Other villains knew not to mess with them.

"I don’t want to," the hero said.

"Baby, you’d have to hold yourself up the entire time," the villain said.

"I don't want you to look at it." The villain tried to reach for the bandages under the hero’s clothes with their fingers, just to get a vague idea of what they were dealing with.

"Why not?"

"I think you’d start crying too."

The villain stared at them, eyes wide. And eventually, after five more minutes, both of them knew the hero was right.

#writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #request #an answer for an ask #h/c #suggestive

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factual-fantasy · 2 days

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28 asks! Thanks ya'll!! :}} 🕸️

Thanks to you anon I finally found a way to make the Mega evolution work! Which inspired me to make this post!

And an Enchantment Seed to induce mega evolution.. that's genius!!

AW. I hadn't realized that each mega has a stone unique to their species! That adds an extra layer of difficulty 😔

Ah? :0 My name is not Jana..

Also I'm going through a reaaaly hard season in my life rn 🫠🫠I'm hoping with all my heart that its over soon.. thank you for asking! <:D

@candyglumboy

Sorry, I don't take drawing requests! <:D

That'd genius XDD Now to find the right stock images.. 🤔

You make a good argument ngl XDD

@scg4

Bonnie probably has some dialogue lined up in the event he encounters a crying child. All relating to his own role as a Bowling coach no doubt.

He might try to comfort him with things along the lines of "You did great." "Don't worry, you'll get it next time champ." "Don't give up, you can do it!"

But if those phrases don't relate to what Gregory is upset about.. Bonnie might not know what to say. He's not intended to be the chatty type.. He might give Gregory a gentle pat on the shoulder. Maybe a "Its gonna be okay, kiddo.." Probably just subtle things like that until Freddy or Foxy show up to better help comfort him. :'(

Indeed he is! I had my heart set on a Sylveon but I wasn't about to spend hours looking for a 12% spawn chance on a female Eevee <XDD

Plus drawing Sylveon to look more masculine is fun! And having his story be that he loved his friends so much that he evolved for them and they accepted him the way he was?? It makes the male Sylveon thing work for me XDD

@i-v-y67

Thank you so much!! And aww!! She's adorable!!! :DDD

SKNF BINGO REAL XDD

I'm feeling better than I did yesterday, but still not great.. 🫠Thank you for asking though! :)) I hope you are well!

I'm not familiar with any of the book animatronics.. though I'd like to imagine that Fazbear Entertainment was wise about the designs of the other glamrocks. It would make sense that each different location would have different themes. You know, to keep them from being same-y same-y.

What I mean by this- is while the Pizzaplex is very futuristic and space themes.. maybe other locations that have the Twisted wolf or Ella would be Ocean or Fantasy themed..?

Maybe the ocean themed place would be blue and have a lot of mermaids, pirates, boats, treasure, sea creatures, etc. The animatronics would be glittery and have long flowy designs perhaps?

@nootking

Thank you! I don't have a Patreon or anything.. but I have considered making one i the past.. 🤔

-- Also NOnononono, absolutely not- I don't draw NSFW 💀

@littlelightfish

XDD Tuna just be standing over you like "..Is.. is it dead? Oh crap its dead isn't it- I gotta get Louis to help me dispose of this body-"

Indeed he is! XDD

@flutehammer

ah? :DD You're welcome! (?) :00

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD That means a lot to me!! :}}] 💞💞

Now I'm taking a break from Octonauts atm- but I do have a headcannon I can share about the Vegimals at least! :00

So typically in Octonauts, we see only 5 vegimals total. These being, (from left to right) Barrot, Codish, Grouber, Tomminow and Tunip.

But in this screenshot from.. I forget the episode, we see 3 extra vegimals. A blue one, (Halibeet) another big purple one, (Sharchini) and a little green one (Pikato)

We almost NEVER see these vegimals. So I headcannoned that the main 5 Vegimals are all chefs and rather extroverted. While the missing 3 are rather shy and are the gardeners of the group. While you can go into the kitchen and easily find and talk to the 5 vegimals.. of you go into the garden pod you'll find the missing 3 all shyly humming together and gardening. :}

Its gotta be this one here <XDD

(Also good on you for steppin out! Proud of you for that :}}} 💪💪✨)

@skatermusic

Huh? Oh nono I don't ever delete or purge my artwork- it must be a Tumblr problem not showing my posts..? <:00

Also my pronouns are they/them for anonymity XDD so you're totally fine!

@longlivethedragons

WAAAAAHG THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 😭😭💞💞💖💞

@emmetest

AWE!! :DD YOU'RE COOL!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! :}}}}

While he's in there can he eat all the insulation? I'm trynna let that cold rainy air, IN

@tallchest13-blog

Oh to have a Gengar in this summer heat indeed.. 😔

@chickenheadguy (Image is from this post)

The dude just loves his fwiends so much.. 🥺💞💞

@smithanonsworld

I have been laughing at this image for 25 minutes

@minnesotamedic186

Fr?? That's sick!! After a quick Google search-

"Inside Rayquaza's body lies an organ that contains the same power as a Mega Stone. A Devon Corporation scientist named this organ the mikado organ (Japanese: ミカド器官). By consuming meteoroids as it flies through the stratosphere, the organ will be filled with enough energy to enable Rayquaza's Mega Evolution."

Turns out he's a hungry boi XDD

@stupid-thatsme

Well Grimace isn't warm- Gengars steal the heat from their surroundings <XD But I'm sure he wouldn't mind a hug! :))

I'd like to think he encountered an Espeon at some point, Mostly because that's the only eeveeloution I remember encountering in game--

But considering Espeon's whole friendship evolution thing... maybe a Leafeon or Vaporeon encounter would be more likely? I wonder how that would make him feel.. seeing what he could have been.. you just gave me a drawing idea! 👀👀

#my response #pokemon scarlet and violet #gengar #fnaf security breach #octonauts #cookie run #cookie run ocs #my ocs #cookie run kingdom

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cherry-romper · 3 days

Text

When They're Injured

+ Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Marco, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Levi, Erwin, Hange, Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, Porco, Pieck, Zeke

Eren; • He either pretends to be fine or cries like a baby, there's no in-between. • Most of the time he doesn't even acknowledge your presence in the room. He thinks it's a waste of time watching over him. • Tells you to grow up if he sees you crying over him. • "I have the power of the titans, I'll be fine. Just stop your crying already, it's making me uncomfortable." • Still thanks you for caring though, in his own little way - probably by asking you to be his sparing partner instead of actually saying thank you.

Mikasa; • Unfazed by her own injuries and cares more about you taking care of yourself. • Stays in bed for a day before she's back working out and doing chores, no matter how bad her injury is. You have to physically restrain her and put her back to bed (it never goes well). • Asks if you've eaten and slept well before you get the chance to ask her. • She's grateful for everything you do while she's recovering. • She picks you some flowers afterwards to say thank you. She even cooks you food.

Armin; • Upset. You console and reassure him a lot because he keeps crying about being weak. • You read to him though, and even play chess while he recovers. • You promise to train him some more when he's able bodied so that he feels better prepared next time. • You bring him food but he refuses to eat it. You end up doing the "here comes the train" thing with him to force him to eat out of embarrassment. • You brought him flowers and he loved the gesture so much that he now uses one of the dried flowers as a book mark.

Marco; • Grateful to be alive. • He sometimes panics and has nightmares that he's back on the field where he was injured and you have to calm him down. • He sometimes gets annoyed at you for always being beside him because he knows you're not looking after yourself properly. • Forces you to leave so you'll finally wash and eat. • Jean also visits often and you all share stories about your childhoods. The duo never fail to make you laugh.

Jean; • Dramatic. Does the whole "don't look at me, I'm hideous" thing, and refuses to let you into the room. • You have to physically stop him from covering his face and reassure him that he's just as beautiful as before. • He switched up real fast after that and pretended he wasn't even injured to try and impress you. He went from being a cry baby to trying to work out with a broken arm. • You gave up trying to stop him because he wouldn't listen to anything. • Cries when he's alone because he doesn't think he's strong enough.

Connie; • Doesn't change a thing. He's still just as idiotic as before. • Laughs it off. He keeps telling jokes so he won't think about it and if he's laughing then he's happy. • Wants you by his side always, and get upset when you need to leave. •"Y/N, I'm telling you, I'm immortal." • He doesn't really cry, he had a few tear when he was alone, but he's more focused on training when he's better so it doesn't happen again. • Secretly likes being injured because you're particularly nice to him.

Sasha; • Dramatic. She thinks the worlds is going to end. Gathers you, Jean and Connie around as she says her "last goodbyes". • It only takes you waving some meat in her face for her to snap out of it and start acting normal again. • Sobs into your arm. She's more worried about if she'll be able to eat and hunt again than her actually injuries. • Food works better than medicine.

Levi; • Sleeps it off. He'll be fine the next morning. • Hates when you baby him. Even if you're just being nice, like bringing him food, he'll think you're being condescending and gets pissed off. • It really doesn't take long for him to recover, but Erwin orders him to take time off to be sure - you're happy Levi will always have Erwin looking out for him. • You leave him little notes instead of actually staying with him. He smiles to himself when he sees them, he adore the little things.

Hange; • Refuses to stay in bed. Levi knocks them out to force them into bed. • They get bored very easy. Erwin doesn't let them work while they recover, so most days they just sit and stare at the ceiling. • Gets a little dramatic and starts crying because they can't visit their titans. So you visit them yourself and draw them for Hange - even if you're bad at drawing, they are overjoyed. • Cries when you bring them flowers.

Erwin; • He's appears fine externally, has a strong mentality and is sure he'll heal in no time. • No matter what he's still working, you have to physically pry the papers from his hands so he'll actually rest for once. • He gets kind of annoyed at the babying. He just wants you to see that he's okay to work, but you have none of it. • You buy him flowers and other little trinkets - like a little girl was selling knitted teddy bears, so you bought him one. He got emotional after that because he realised how much you meant to him.

Reiner; • Goes through a crisis. He's used to being injured, but not this badly. • It takes him a lot of willpower to not just heal it in front of you. • Spends most night debating if it would be easier to just die. • Some days he doesn't know who he is and acts like a soldier and others Bertholdt has to remind him that there are bigger things out there and he has to pull through so they can go home. • On they days where he's a warrior, he pushes you away, only letting Bertholdt and Annie in the room with him.

Bertholdt; • Pushes everyone away, aside from Reiner - not even Annie can see him like that. • Gets unnecessarily angry. Debates just turning and finishing the mission right then and there, and he was about to when you turned up. You made his whole world stop and he just stared at you. • He cried into your arms that night, and most nights after. He'd never felt so vulnerable. He thought you were the one who came to save him. • You knew he was feeling better when he went back to his "synchronised sleeping," as you called it, and you'd find him with his head nearly on the floor.

Annie; • Stoic, as per usual. • Hates when you make a fuss. • "It will heal. Please, give me some space." • Doesn't push people away, just kind of distances herself. For example, she doesn't spar with people when she's feeling better, she uses a training dummy instead. • Only happy when you're with her. She wouldn't admit it though. • She wants you to stay, but would never go out of her way to ask you too.

Porco; • He gets dismissive. Uses the word "whatever" like it's going out of fashion. • You try to reassure him but he just gets defensive. "Stop it. You're acting like I'm going to die. I'll just heal overnight. You're so dramatic." • Secretly enjoys the attention. He's not used to people willingly caring for him. He normally bullies people into following him around, but you do it out of the kindness of your heart. • You praise him for being so brave and it makes him blush.

Pieck; • She loves that you stay with her. She thanks you everyday. • Holds your hand a lot. • You talk about whatever but most of the time there's just a comfortable silence. • For some reason, she thinks the best when she's injured. Meaning she still attends strategy meetings, but asks you to go with her for support.

Zeke; • Refuses to stay in bed, no matter how bad the injury. • He sleeps for about 3 hours, and heals in that time. After that he just walks around like normal, still doing his work like he wasn't floored a few hours ago. • You barely get the time to worry about him. He appreciates the sentiment though. He likes when you worry about him, it makes him finally feel cared about. • He does spend more time with you after that. After seeing your reaction he realised how much he actually likes you, how much he cares for you.

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blue-ten · 2 days

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Windows 11 and the Last Straw

Bit of a rant coming up. TL;DR I'm tired of Microsoft, so I'm moving to Linux. After Microsoft's announcement of "Recall" and their plans to further push Copilot as some kind of defining feature of the OS, I'm finally done. I feel like that frog in the boiling water analogy, but I'm noticing the bubbles starting to form and it's time to hop out.

The corporate tech sector recently has been such a disaster full of blind bandwagon hopping (NFTs, ethically dubious "AI" datasets trained on artwork scraped off the net, and creative apps trying to incorporate features that feed off of those datasets). Each and every time it feels like insult to injury toward the arts in general. The out of touch CEOs and tech billionaires behind all this don't understand art, they don't value art, and they never will.

Thankfully, I have a choice. I don't have to let Microsoft feature-creep corporate spyware into my PC. I don't have to let them waste space and CPU cycles on a glorified chatbot that wants me to press the "make art" button. I'm moving to Linux, and I've been inadvertently prepping myself to do it for over a decade now.

I like testing out software: operating systems, web apps, anything really, but especially art programs. Over the years, the open-source community has passionately and tirelessly developed projects like Krita, Inkscape, and Blender into powerhouses that can actually compete in their spaces. All for free, for artists who just want to make things. These are people, real human beings, that care about art and creativity. And every step of the way while Microsoft et al began rotting from the inside, FOSS flourished and only got better. They've more than earned trust from me.

I'm not announcing my move to Linux just to be dramatic and stick it to the man (although it does feel cathartic, haha). I'm going to be using Krita, Inkscape, GIMP, and Blender for all my art once I make the leap, and I'm going to share my experiences here! Maybe it'll help other artists in the long run! I'm honestly excited about it. I worked on the most recent page of Everblue entirely in Krita, and it was a dream how well it worked for me.

Addendum: I'm aware that Microsoft says things like, "Copilot is optional," "Recall is offline, it doesn't upload or harvest your data," "You can turn all these things off." Uh-huh. All that is only true until it isn't. One day Microsoft will take the user's choice away like they've done so many times before. Fool me once, etc.

#microsoft #windows 11 #recall #copilot #linux

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keplercryptids · 12 hours

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the more i run ttrpgs, especially in systems other than d&d 5e, the less i'm interested in a culture of secret-keeping at the table.

by that i mean, characters can and should have narrative secrets. that can lead to plot hooks, character growth, etc. characters having (temporary) secrets can be a good thing, but i don't think players should have narrative secrets between them, as a general rule.

when the players have more knowledge than their characters, they can make more interesting narrative decisions. they can choose to explore certain themes, start specific conversations or introduce interesting parallels that they simply would not be able to do otherwise.

i started implementing this culture shift with my newest campaign by being upfront with my players that "secret" back stories weren't going to be a thing. in fact, we played a couple sessions for each PC, exploring elements of their back story. these are details that the characters don't know about each other, but now the players do. it's been a blast, everyone is so much more invested in each other's characters and their stories, and there literally hasn't been a single downside to this approach. like. IMO we're just immediately telling a better, more cohesive story.

with PCs, a general rule of thumb i follow is that any secrets the players keep from each other should be: 1) rare, 2) relatively unimportant to the overall story, and 3) resolved quickly during play. meaning: if you do have a secret, you won't have it for long.

as the GM, of course there will be some secrets **i** have to keep from the players - but honestly, i'm finding that with this culture shift, i also have fewer secrets. part of that is that we're playing scum and villainy, where by design a lot more information is shared with the players about the machinations of the world, etc. but part of it is that i am finding a lot of fun and fulfillment in letting my players know more than i might have when i first started GMing.

for example. in our campaign setting, everybody has a shadow signifier, meaning that their shadows take on a unique shape/symbol. my players have access to a document listing a bunch of factions in the world, as well as notable NPCs and their signifier shadows. last session, i introduced NPCs with fake names or completely unknown identities, but visible signifiers. and it was honestly a thrill for all of us once the players caught on and began searching for these signifiers within that document, and gaining meta knowledge of who these NPCs actually were. having this knowledge 1) is much more interesting for the players, and 2) can make it so the characters start exploring areas of the world they may not have known to explore.

i think belligerent secret-keeping is kind of a d&d cultural staple, and this is partly out of fear of "metagaming." but the more i GM, the less and less i care about metagaming, and in fact am starting to embrace it. some of the gameplay is more fun if it's meta. the story is often better when it's one we're telling on purpose. i trust my players not to use meta information in a way that's unfun, they trust me to divulge information in a fair and balanced way, and it feels much more like we're all on the same team and learning things about the world at the same time.

regardless of systems i play in the future, i am going to keep "no out-of-character secrets" as a blanket rule from now on.

#jd&d #choir campaign #ttrpg talk #dm stuff

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sissylittlefeather · 3 days

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Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 9

A/N: Ahhhh, the penultimate chapter! There was so much screaming after the last one! Will your screams be satisfied?! Please keep reading and commenting. I live for it! Love you all 🩷🩷

Need to catch up? Masterlist here.

Warnings: not much, alcohol use, cussing, kissing, angst

Word count: ~2.2k

Later that night, as Sonny sleeps peacefully on his pillow beside her, Vivian cries herself to sleep, silent tears streaming down her face.

******

Elvis paces Graceland almost constantly while Sonny and Vivian are gone on their honeymoon. When they come back, he hosts a party to welcome them home, but it's a thinly veiled excuse for him to see Viv again. He knows Priscilla isn't stupid. She has to be able to tell something is going on with him, but he's not really sure he cares. There seems to be something distracting her these days too.

On the day of the party, Elvis is on edge trying to make sure everything is perfect. By the time Sonny and Viv finally arrive, he's so worked up he's chain smoking cigarillos and his stomach is filled with butterflies like he's a teenager. He stands in the foyer smiling awkwardly. She looks even more beautiful than he imagined and he's dying to take her in his arms and kiss her the way he really wants to, but all of a sudden Sonny is there shaking his hand.

"Can we talk, boss?"

"Oh, um, sure can I just... I want to-" He gestures to Viv but Sonny cuts him off.

"No, we need to talk now." Elvis looks back at Viv as Sonny ushers him into the kitchen for some privacy.

"What is it, Sonny?" Elvis asks, clearly annoyed.

"I know about the wedding." The butterflies in his stomach freeze.

"What about the wedding?" He asks, praying Sonny isn't talking about what he thinks he's talking about.

"About you and Vivian. Jerry told me." Elvis shifts uncomfortably. "You're my friend and I know you. I know you're not trying to break up my marriage. So I'm asking you to stay away. Please. I know y'all have always had a thing, but she's my wife now. Please let us be happy."

Elvis looks at him in stunned silence. He never dreamed Sonny knew, but more than that he never imagined this is how he would react. Stay away? Now, when they're so close to finally being what he wants?

"I'm begging you, Elvis."

Elvis nods slowly. Sonny has been a good friend to him for too many years to count. He hears himself agree to stay away, still not sure he'll be able to keep that promise. But he makes it anyway.

******

Vivian is shocked and confused by Elvis's distance before he eventually leaves for Vegas in January. She's not sure what she expected, but it wasn't for him to avoid her completely. Maybe the guilt of what happened between them finally got to him. Or maybe he realized that he really didn't want her. Either way, she tries to keep her mourning silent and contained, focusing on her modeling career and her new husband.

Sonny is the perfect picture of a doting husband. Something about the marriage seems to have sent him into a lovestruck tailspin and he showers her with affection and lavish gifts. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear he was trying to prove something to her. Still, she misses Elvis. She appreciates all of the attention, but she can't help wishing it was Elvis doing all of it for her.

******

At the end of February, Elvis comes home from Vegas to find Priscilla in a state. She's crying and frantic and if he's being honest, he's more annoyed than concerned. He's spent the last two months longing for Viv and trying to convince himself that Cilla is a good wife and their marriage is worth saving. This isn't helping her case.

"Calm down, Cil, what is it?" She finally comes and sits next to him on the edge of their bed. He's hoping she's not going to try to make love to him for whatever reason. She's his wife and he'll do it, but he can't guarantee he won't imagine Viv and that makes it hard for him to moan the correct name.

"I can't do this." She shakes her head and wrings her hands.

"Can't do what, Cil? Just tell me what's going on."

"I can't stay here. With you." His mouth drops. That was not anywhere on his list of possibilities for what was going to happen.

"You can't... what?" She stands up and walks away from him.

"I can't stay with you. I have to leave. I'm... I just have to go."

"Priscilla, why? What happened?" She turns back to him with tears in her eyes.

"I'm in love with someone else." His heart drops. The fact that he is too is lost in his wounded pride.

"You're... what?!" He stands up and walks towards her filled with rage. Priscilla looks up at him defiantly, her own rage bubbling to the surface.

"No! You don't get to be mad at me for this!"

"I'll be mad if I damn well please!" She stomps to her dresser and pulls something out of the top drawer, throwing it at him.

"Don't act like you're so innocent!" He looks down at what she threw. Panties. Viv's panties. "Found those in your jacket pocket when I took it to have it cleaned. They're Vivian's aren't they?"

"Cilla, you know there have been other women." He says it quietly, his mind flooded with memories of being with Viv.

"This is different! You're in love with her, aren't you?" He looks up at her, his blue eyes round and tortured.

"Yes." She sobs openly.

"Our marriage is over Elvis. You can have her." For one bright, shining moment there's a glimmer of hope. And then he remembers Sonny and the promise he made to him to stay away. He looks back at Priscilla.

She had already packed, so it doesn't take long for her to be gone. He stands in the living room as she drives away. Then he turns and kicks over a table, sending the objects on it flying. He sits with his head in his hands.

Now he has no one.

******

Vivian is home alone, pacing around her living room. She knows Elvis is home from Vegas and she's dying to call him, but she knows she shouldn't. Sonny won't be home until tomorrow and her mind is racing with possibilities. But no, she can't. He probably doesn't want her anyway. This is the last thought she has before she hears someone pull into the driveway. Surely Sonny isn't home early?

She peeks through the front curtains and watches as Elvis stumbles out of the car. He has a bottle of something in his hand and rather than walking up to the front door, he turns in the driveway and hollers at the house.

"Vivian!" She waits for a second, trying to decide what to do. He stumbles a few steps and yells again. "Viv!!"

When she realizes he can barely walk, she rushes out the front door to him. He smiles when he sees her and holds out his arms.

"My beautiful Viv. You always come when I call." His voice is slurred, his words thick. She lets him lean on her and half carries him up to the house. When they get inside and she gets him settled on the couch, she grabs the bottle. It's peach brandy and it's almost empty. "That's my second bottle."

"Oh my god, Elvis. You don't drink. What is going on?"

"I figured my wife leaving me was a good enough excuse."

"Wait, Priscilla... left?"

"Yep. She's gone." He leans forward with his head in his hands and starts to cry. Then he sniffs loudly and turns to Vivian. "After everything I gave up for her. She left."

Vivian sits on the couch speechless. For the first time since she's known him, he has no obligation to any other woman. Some small part of her leaps with hope, but she's the one with the obligation now.

"Why are you here?"

"Didn't have nobody else. Didn't want nobody else." He reaches out and cups her cheek with his big, warm hand. Then he pulls away suddenly and tries to sit up. "Promised Sonny I'd leave you alone, though. I'm pretty bad at promises."

"You promised Sonny you'd leave me alone?"

"Yep. At the welcome home party for you. He knows about us at your wedding." A lightbulb goes off for Viv.

"That's why he's been so... and why you've avoided me since then."

"Mhmm. Didn't want to break up a happy home." He hiccups and leans back on the couch. She realizes how close he is to passing out.

"We need to get you to a bed because I won't be able to move you if you fall asleep here."

"Okay." He half whispers, half sighs. She helps him take off his shoes and jacket and stand up and then they make their way down the hallway. When she gets him onto a bed in one of the extra rooms, she watches as he looks around, noticing the pink, blue, and yellow paint swatches on the wall and the rocking chair in the corner. "Viv, are you...?"

His eyes move to her stomach and he sobs. She sighs deeply as he grabs her and pulls her to him, weeping.

"I really lost you, didn't I?"

"Elvis, I'm not pregnant yet."

"No, but you wanna be. You will be soon." Viv buries the thought that she'd rather be pregnant with his baby. It does no good to tell him that. Instead, she kneels down in front of him and holds his face in both hands.

"You didn't lose me, Elvis. It's not possible. I'll be yours until the day I die. Even if it's just as a friend." The last part cuts through her like a knife and she can tell it hurts him too. But what other option is there? She's married.

And then he kisses her. He pulls her body in close to his and presses his mouth to her. She can taste the sweetness of the brandy as she opens her lips to his tongue. He drags her up onto the bed with him and lays down with her in his arms, his mouth never leaving hers. When he finally comes up for air, she touches her nose to his gently.

"You're too drunk for this, babe." He shakes his head.

"'M not, honey."

"You said no to me twice for this exact reason. I'm not going to take advantage of you."

"I promise you won't." He kisses her softly. "Please."

"Elvis, I have a husband." She whispers as he kisses her neck.

"You're telling me you don't wish it was me?" A wave of longing and desire washes over her. That's exactly what she wishes every time Sonny makes love to her. But the guilt is about to kill her.

"I can't." She pulls away to get out of the bed.

"No, wait. Please stay with me. I won't touch you anymore. I promise. I just don't want to be alone." She looks at him, his blue eyes pleading and sweet, the same boyish look from all those years ago. Something about that look makes it impossible for her to say no, so she crawls back into the bed and snuggles into him. He strokes her hair and kisses the top of her head. "Thank you, baby."

******

The next morning, Elvis wakes up with a pounding headache, but he doesn't care when he realizes Viv has her head on his chest. The thought that this is how he'd like to wake up every day slams into him and a lump forms in his throat. Still, his sober self remembers his promise to Sonny and is overcome with guilt. At least they didn't have sex. She was right to stop him.

He slides out of the bed without disturbing her and walks back out to the living room. He slips on his shoes and throws the almost-empty bottle of brandy in the trash. Then, he goes back to the bed and kisses her cheek gently. She doesn't stir, so he leaves quietly. For the first time, going to Graceland doesn't feel like going home. She is his home.

******

Vivian wakes up when the front door opens and closes. At first, she thinks it's Elvis leaving, so she sits up quickly, but it's not.

"Hey honey, I'm home!" Sonny calls from the entryway. She breathes a sigh of relief that Elvis is not still here. A big part of her wishes he was and they could just get it over with, but she knows that's not kind to Sonny. "What the hell is this?!"

She hears him yell from the living room and she bolts out of bed. When she gets there, she finds him standing with Elvis's jacket in his hand.

"He was here, wasn't he?!" He's never yelled at her before. She doesn't want to lie, but she also doesn't want to hurt him.

"Yes. But nothing happened! It wasn't like that! He was just drunk and upset about Priscilla leaving."

"I told that bastard to stay away."

"Sonny, I promise, it was nothing."

"I'm sure. It's never nothing between you two." She stands in silence. He's not wrong. "Vivian, I'm going to ask you one question and I want you to be honest with me."

She nods slowly in anticipation.

"Are you in love with him?" She looks at Sonny with tears in her eyes. Would it be more kind to lie? Or is it finally time for him to know the truth?

"Are you?!"

"Yes."

******

Are you ready for the end?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @atleastpleasetelephone @burnthheparaphilia @cinnamoroll-things

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis x oc #Elvis x Vivian #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x oc #Elvis Presley x Vivian choquette #your loves been a long time coming #ylbaltc

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