#for keeping tumblr around for a long time
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𝔼ℙ𝕀𝕊𝕆𝔻𝔼 𝟙 - 𝕀ℕ𝕋ℝ𝕆𝔻𝕌ℂ𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ𝕊 ℙ𝕋. 𝕆ℕ𝔼
Discord 18+ - Twitter - Last Episode - Masterlist
Pairing: JJK Men x Female Reader
Episode Summary: The season has begun! Which one of these contestants will be the first to make an impression on your heart?
STORY TWIST: READERS WILL VOTE AFTER CERTAIN CHAPTERS TO CHOOSE WHO GETS A ROSE AND MAKES IT TO THE NEXT WEEK. KEEP A LOOKOUT FOR THE VOTING LINK AT THE END OF CHAPTERS
Story Warning: DRAMA, lying and scheming, REVERSE HAREM, profanity bc I can only be me, arguments, fights probably, heartbreak and tears, (more to come)
Artist Credit: momoya348, Umbra3terna, ilameys,maoyaoyao519, _0_0219 Divider Credit: Cafekitsune (Tumblr)
A/N: sorry it took so long! i said it would be up the next day but yall know i lie
Apparently, you were the perfect pick for the show. At least, that’s what the producers had told you as they spent weeks screening you for this and prepping you for what was to be expected.
“She’s not heavily involved in society, but can still see curses,” they’d said.
“And none of the Sorcerers would know her either since she’s practically nobody in society,” they’d note.
“No expectations from someone like her,” they’d comment.
And all the while, you sat there, letting them pick apart your life.
A window – hardly useful, new to Kyoto so the chances were slim that you had met any of the men who had signed up for the show, a nobody, just…there. Unimpressive, plain, hardly a step above the non-gifted. And somehow, you were supposed to win the heart of one of these men.
- - - - - -
Jesse stands before you, a wide smile on his face when he asks, “Feeling nervous?”
“Just a little.” That feels like an understatement
“Anything you’re looking for in one of these Sorcerers?” Jesse pushes. You’ve honestly got to give it to Jesse. He’s a great host. You’ve gotten more comfortable with him in the short time you’ve been speaking. You think he’s a nice person. At least while the cameras are on.
“Nothing in particular, Jesse,” you respond. “You know, I’m pretty open right now. Just looking to find someone who speaks to my heart.”
Now you’re just pulling things out of your ass, because where did that come from?
“Good, good.” Jesse pauses briefly, taking a dramatic inhale of breath before he speaks your name. “Alright, listen. The first man who will be competing for your heart should be pulling up here shortly. Best of luck. But, I have a strong feeling there’s going to be someone out here for you that will end up sweeping you off your feet…” He leans forward and embraces you once more. Then he turns and speaks directly into the camera, where all the viewers at home can see. “Remember, this is a very special season in more ways than one. While our Bachelorette tries to find her soulmate, you, the viewers at home, are in charge of choosing who will not be receiving a rose for eliminations.”
Your head snaps to the camera and you see the cameraman swivel the large machine so that Jesse’s head blocks your wide eyed, open mouthed stare.
“Hopefully these men know how to make an impression, because that will greatly sway you viewers. Be sure to tune in…” He claps his hands together. “And with that…let the journey begin.”
Jesse is off before you can even call after him, not sparing you a glance as his assistants swarm around him out of view of the camera. There’s a lot of movement that follows as Jesse leaves you standing outside of the Bachelorette mansion in what now feels like the frigid cold. Was it always this freezing? Was your dress always so tight, so suffocating? You feel like you can’t breathe.
The viewers. That’s what Jesse had said on live television. The viewers would be deciding who moved forward?! That was not what was advertised! This was not what you were told would be happening! You were supposed to be choosing for yourself!
How could you possibly find the love of your life among a group of Sorcerers you’d be meeting for the first time in your life. Not to mention, you had to depend on the viewers of the world to decide who was your soulmate?! They didn’t even know you! How could you trust them with your heart? How would they know who would be the one best suited to take care of it?
Hell, you don’t even know who would be the one best suited for that. But the only thing you are certain of is that this is a mistake. A very big, very stupid mistake.
How could you have let Utahime talk you into this? Let this be the last time you’re swayed by that drunkard!
Your eyes dart around, trying not to catch the attention of the many people surrounding you at the moment. The crew is busy fiddling with the lighting. The sound team is checking and adjusting mics. The cameramen are moving into position to catch every possible angle. And suddenly you feel more exposed, more vulnerable than ever. You need to get out of here, quickly.
Spinning on your heel, you take a single step forward in an attempt to dart past all of the commotion, hopefully unnoticed. But the moment you turn around, you hit a wall. At least what feels like a wall. But the only thing standing between you and your escape is one very tall man dressed in a nice and clearly incredibly expensive suit.
Your gaze climbs up this man’s body and you’re met with a pair of the most insanely (and downright terrifying) pair of blue eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. They sit behind a pair of sunglasses (it’s nighttime?) so dark, you can’t see a thing through them. And atop this man’s head sits a head full of stark white hair. He’s so…unnatural looking. Almost alien-like, but beautiful nonetheless.
Still. It doesn’t change the fact that less than two seconds ago, you’re absolutely positive that this man was not here.
“Hey there,” he says, a lopsided grin on his face.
It’s then that reality crashes down on you. That this strange-looking man appearing out of thin air feels real. And you let out a blood-curdling, earsplitting shriek that has the staff gasping and screaming along with you. You quickly stagger backwards. And because you seem to be blessed with nothing but bad luck tonight, your heel of course catches in the ridges of the outdoor tile. You’re sure to be tumbling to the ground soon and you can only pray the cameras aren’t trained on you when you inevitably hit the floor. You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the impact to come.
But it never does. You’re sort of just…floating there. You hesitantly peek through one eye, aware that you’re now in the arms of the man who had appeared out of nowhere. His eyes stare down at you, a hint of amusement behind them as he holds you to his chest. Well, you think it’s his chest? It feels like you’re touching him…but not? It’s such a strange sensation. Is this his cursed technique? It has you reaching up and almost pressing your hand to the man’s chest. That is, until you realize what you’re about to do. Aghast, you scramble out of his hold and straighten yourself up.
What was it the producers had told you in preparation? Stand tall and confidently. Even if you don’t feel confident, you’ll at least be able to look confident.
Well, you definitely don’t feel confident, and you doubt you look confident either. But you clear your throat quietly anyway, folding your hands in front of you and offer this man a polite smile.
“Thank you,” you mutter.
He chuckles, slipping his hands into his pockets as he peers at you from over the rim of his glasses. He purses his lips together, taking you in. Then that grin from earlier is back, like he approves of what he sees. “Any time.”
You’re not sure who the hell this man is. If he’s a contestant on the show, he shouldn’t be here yet. He’s supposed to be pulling up in a stretch limo and let out in front of you so that introductions can be done properly. You wait for him to introduce himself, but instead he just stands there, a shit eating grin sitting on his lips. Like you’re just supposed to know who he is.
Should you? Maybe you should.
He waits there…staring, annoyingly if you’re being honest.
So you wait, too. Because isn’t he supposed to be impressing you? Not the other way around. He’s clearly a sorcerer. You can feel the light airiness his cursed energy exudes, but you can’t for the life of you pinpoint who he is. Maybe it’s your nerves. Maybe you’re still on edge from this entire experience. Or maybe it’s the way your heart is still racing from him scaring the absolute shit out of you fifteen seconds ago. Either way, this guy seems awfully sure of himself and his expectation for you to show him some sort of reaction to his presence.
But you can’t place who he is. Mentally, you want to kick yourself for the way you always checked out, daydreaming about cheese fries instead of listening to Utahime give you the 411 on all of the sorcerers she knew. It would probably come in handy right about now.
When you don’t give this stranger the reaction he’s waiting for, you watch as his brows slowly knit together behind those glasses of his and his mouth turns down with a scowl.
“I thought a sorcerer would be more…” He waves his hand in the air lazily. “...excited about this.”
You fix him with a deadpan look. “You popped up out of nowhere, then almost knocked me on my a–”, you glance over to one of the cameras quickly. It stares back at you, one of many giant eyes suddenly hovering to catch every expression and word from you and televise it to the world. So really, you should be more careful about what you say. “I mean…you came out of nowhere and scared the crap out of me!”
You toss in a laugh to lighten up the mood, and let the man know you’re not upset even though deep down your heart is still hammering against your ribcage from his annoying little stunt.
Annoying…
…Stunt
Suddenly it hits you. Through the fog of cheese fry filled memories, you can hear Utahime’s drunken slurring come through.
“Everything’s a fucking joke to him. He takes nothing seriously. I hate that guy so much! Him and that dumbass blindfold and that damn forcefield he keeps up around him. Gojo Satoru can kiss my ass.”
And because he’s Gojo fucking Satoru, he can see the instant you realize he’s him written all over your face.
“Looks like you finally figured it out.” He’s as cocky as Utahime told you he was.
Even still, you hadn’t paid it any mind because you hadn’t expected the strongest sorcerer in a thousand fucking years to be standing in front of you on a damn dating show.
He saunters over to you, long legs quickly closing the distance. Then he’s taking your hand in his and bringing it up to his shiny pink lips. And you must look like a deer in the headlights, staring up at him with wide eyes, mouth open slightly as The Strongest, places a soft kiss to the back of your hand.
“I’m Satoru,” he breathes against your skin, and from your peripheral, you see the cameras move closer to catch this gesture.
They’re so close, you can even hear the staff whispering worriedly behind you: “Wait, wasn’t everyone’s montage supposed to be in black and white?” and “Why are his photos in color?” and “Something about his eyes? I don’t know.” and “Management’s gonna kill us.”
When Satoru pulls away, he’s smiling down at you. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to his height. “You’re…stunning,” he speaks with an air of disbelief. And you can’t help it. You swoon for him immediately. It’s kind of pathetic, really. “As The Strongest, I think I’m the only one here capable of taking care of your heart.”
Again, you hear the staff behind you, men and women alike sighing and quietly squealing. You respond with a sweet smile and a genuine laugh because, although a little cheesy, that was definitely a good line. “Maybe so.”
You think he likes your cheekiness, because he’s beaming now. “Definitely so. And I can’t wait to prove it.” He kisses your hand again. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.” Satoru gives you his most radiant smile and you can’t help but return it. “I’ll see you inside.”
And with that, he’s gone in an instant, like he was never there. It’s just you, with your hand still in the air and the impression of Satoru’s cursed energy before you…and the impression he’s already left on your heart.
You turn to the camera, pressing your hand to your rapidly beating heart. “He’s so charming.” It comes out as more of a sigh and you think you can hear Utahime groaning, see her rolling her eyes all the way from her couch. But you can’t help it! You just met the Satoru Gojo!
Unfortunately, you don’t have time to dwell too much on Satoru’s unique entrance because shortly after he poofs out of sight, you hear the sounds of tires approaching. With a wide grin to the camera and the audience watching, you spin back around and try to calm your nerves for the next arrival.
“We’re already off to a good start.” The cameras move into position, ready to capture everything. “Looks like the next contestant’s coming. Wonder what he’ll be like.”
Just as you finish speaking, a long, black and luxurious limousine rounds the corner and pulls into the lengthy driveway. You steady yourself, feeling optimistic after your first meeting. It’s as though all the nerves and apprehension you’d felt earlier were washed away. You can’t help but feel giddy now, eager to meet this next contestant as the limousine comes to a stop.
But as the driver exits the vehicle – a small, sweaty and almost sickly looking man – he comes around to the back of the limo and opens the door...only to see that the backseat is empty. He peers inside, then whips around when he finally sees there truly is no one in there. You can see his face begin to go almost green, his black rimmed glasses fogging as he stutters out, “H-has Gojo-san a-already arrived?”
He’s trembling, this poor man, and you simply give him a nod. Was he supposed to be bringing Satoru to you? If so, he failed miserably at his task.
The driver looks like he’s about two seconds away from passing out and the camera crew pick up on it, scurrying forward to catch his expression. He’s panic-stricken, murmuring to himself and it’s just loud enough for you to make out a “I hope Gojo-san doesn’t hit me when he’s back. How did I not notice he wasn’t there anymore? It was so quiet in the backseat. I must have simply enjoyed the rare peace I was given and didn’t question it...Oh, I’m so dead–”
He hurries back around to the drivers side without sparing a glance back, quickly hopping inside and taking off. The tires smoke and screech as he speeds around the corner, driving far too fast for any limousine to be moving.
The cameras pan back to you, and you smile uncomfortably, an equally uncomfortable laugh bubbling up from your chest. You shrug to the audience because what can you even say to that?
Dealing directly with sorcerers is already proving to be more chaotic than you imagined.
The next limo pulls forward not long after Satoru’s and the nervous pale man, and one of the most striking men you’ve ever seen steps out easily. He makes eye contact with you immediately, confidently. And it sends chills up your spine. He’s just barely shorter than Satoru, with a face carved by the gods, shiny blonde hair that looks so soft and probably smells incredible, and deep brown eyes that have definitely seen some shit in his line of work. They house deep bags under them. You wonder when the last time he got a good night’s rest was.
The man strolls across the driveway, so handsome in his khaki suit. You take that time to let your eyes rake over his form. Utahime didn’t tell you that these sorcerers were so damn big. If you had been given a warning, you’re sure you wouldn’t look like an idiot drooling over only the second guy you’ve seen tonight.
When he’s about arms length away from you, he stops suddenly and bows. It’s a perfect 90 degree formal greeting and you return it politely. This man must really care about customs and tradition. Surprisingly, you find that quite attractive.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he greets when he stands. His voice ignites goosebumps along your skin. It’s deep, rough and if you’re being honest, fucking sexy. “I’m Kento Nanami.”
“For now, you can simply refer to me as Nanami until we become more familiar.”
His words confirm your first impression of him. This man carries an air of confidence that makes you feel like you can trust him with your life. You know that sounds dramatic, but it’s a trait that is highly valued in the Sorcerer world. You’ve never seen a battlefield in your life, but you think that if you had a cursed technique, you’d want to go head to head against a curse with Nanami.
The cameras have moved forward again, just in time to catch you grinning like a goofy idiot. Nanami is the polar opposite of Satoru, in a good way. He’s far more serious and stoic than Satoru, but for some reason, you have a feeling that there’s more to him beneath the surface. You’re willing to bet he’s a lot more sensitive and caring than he lets on. You’re hoping you get to see that side of him soon.
“It’s so nice to meet you too, Nanami. You can call me by my first name. No need to be formal with me.”
Nanami presses his lips into a thin line. Like he doesn’t want to agree to that, but he doesn’t argue about it. And though brief, you see his eyes quickly snap up and down your form, taking you in so fast you almost miss it. “You look beautiful,” he tells you. And while his voice gives nothing away, you see the tips of his ears grow a little more crimson.
‘Cute.’ You can’t help but think. Yep, he’s so clearly adorably soft and shy underneath that hard exterior. Interesting. It gives you a small boost in confidence for a second. Someone as attractive as Nanami finds you beautiful. Of course you feel good about yourself.
“You’re very…”
‘Very what? Sexy? Ripped? Built like a fucking house?’
“...good looking yourself.”
‘Yeah, reel in the horny, please.’
Nanami gives you what looks to be the smallest smile you’ve ever seen and much like how you reacted to Satoru, you swoon for him too, heart racing in your chest. You can't help it. He’s just so cute!
“I’m happy to be here. Really lovely meeting you. I'll be seeing you again soon.”
With that, he gives you another bow and that shy smile that you can’t wait to see again. Then he’s moving past you and into the mansion to join Satoru. The cameras face you now and you mouth “wow” into the lens. When you turn back around to ready yourself for the next contestant, you hear the mansion’s door swing open behind you and what you swear is the faint sound of Satoru screaming, “NANAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII”.
You hope to know more about Nanami soon. He really seems as though he has a lot to offer once he opens up. You’d love to be the one he opens up for.
Just like after Satoru, the next person arrives shortly after Nanami and the cameras move into position quickly. The limo has barely parked when several people who are definitely not contestants (how did they all fit in there?!) jump out from the vehicle and swiftly form a line along the pathway to you.
There’s a shirtless man with heart-shaped nipples that opens the door and after one very long minute has passed, a man exits the vehicle.
Right away, you’re taken aback by how breathtaking this man is. His long black hair is lustrous, voluminous and hangs freely down his back with half of it tied up in a top knot. He’s as beautiful as the two men before him, standing tall in a dark blue form-fitted suit.
His deep violet eyes scan along his surroundings until they land on you at the end of the path, waiting for him. He meets you with a smile so sweet, it almost scares you. And as he strolls towards you, you see why. Every person who had lined the path previously falls forward as the man passes, bowing at an even more perfect 90 degrees than Nanami did just moments before. They offer him praise as he goes.
It’s freaky, downright strange. It’s almost like they worship him.
Now, while everyone in the Jujutsu world knows who Satoru Gojo is because of his reputation, he was actually quite a rare sight. Always busy, always out and about keeping Japan from being wiped from the earth. It wasn’t easy to catch sight of Satoru unless he wanted you to see him, you were a student or staff at the Tokyo campus, or unless you were an unfortunate curse coming face-to-face with him. And so, a little small town Window like yourself had no idea what he looked like in person and a brief description from Utahime hadn’t helped much.
But this man heading your way? Everyone, even Windows, knew who he was and what he looked like. His reputation preceded him, and not in a good way. His air is a lot more intimidating, menacing even. And he’s just as pretty in real life than in any picture you had seen. They did not do him justice. So you were ill-prepared when you realized that heading towards you, with the most stomach churning aura was none other than the worst Curse User of all time, Suguru Geto.
When he reaches you, without a word, he waves a hand and those kneeling behind him shoot up to standing position immediately. They chant “Thank you, Master Geto” in unison, bowing once more before they all pile into the vehicle and leave the vicinity.
It’s creepy…and intriguing all at the same time. You’d never seen anything like that before. So all intel given to Sorcerers and Windows alike weren’t exaggerating. This man really was operating as some strange cult leader. And now the show has captured all of that live on camera.
How was he even able to get on the show anyway? He’s a curse user, not a Sorcerer.
He peers down at you, brows knitted together as he takes you in. He’s quiet for quite some time. Even the crew is on edge, the tension palpable.
When Suguru meets your gaze, it’s almost as though he’s not looking at you at all. More like he’s looking past you. He raises a hand, reaching towards the side of your head, and your eyes drift shut, only for a brief second before you hear a soft whirring right behind your head, and can just make out a soft blue glow highlighting the man’s features.
It’s over as quickly as it began, and when Suguru brings his hand back, he holds a small black and gold ball in front of your face. You peer up at him again, and his eyes are closed in a pretty crescent shape as he beams down at you.
“There must be some mon– humans on staff if there are little flyheads buzzing around freely like this.” He’s making a face, like he’s holding down vomit just having to utter the word humans and for some reason this makes you laugh. Out of finding it genuinely funny? Out of fear? Out of nerves? Who knows? But, your laughter dies down after a few seconds and your eyes fall to the ball in his hand again.
“Did you just…absorb a curse?” You’d heard of his cursed technique, but obviously hadn’t seen it in action before. Until now.
Suguru chuckles softly, the sound making you shiver. You’re not sure if it’s in a good way or not. “I would need to swallow it later to truly absorb it, but I’ll spare you the sight for now.”He tucks the curse into his pocket, then he’s taking your hand in his and bringing it up to his chest where he presses his lips to the back of your hand sweetly.
Right. Him and Satoru used to be the best of friends. You’re sure they’ve used the same pick up lines on other people that they’ll probably end up using on you. You’re only hoping they’re here for genuine reasons. But more than that, you just hope that they’ll be able to coexist with each other.
“Absolutely breathtaking,” Suguru purrs, his lips curling into a bright smile. “More than I was expecting.”
You’re not sure what he means by the last part, but who cares? You’re fucking swooning again.
No wonder he and that blue eyed bastard were so close at one point. Two beautiful men that know how to say all the right things. It makes you feel shy, like a child trying to talk to her schoolyard crush and the cameras are quick to capture your expressions and broadcast them to the world.
“Thank you so much. You are, too.”
And because he’s Suguru Geto – charismatic, playful, manipulative – he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. It’s your first kiss of the night from any of the men so far, and this one has your stomach doing flips, has your heart crawling up your throat.
You give him a wide smile and he shakes his head like he’s just in disbelief. “Beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you acknowledge again.
“I’m so glad to be here. Can’t wait to get to know you more.”
“Likewise.”
Suguru kisses your cheek again before he waves goodbye and heads towards the mansion. You watch as he retreats, and for a second you think he doesn’t seem that bad. Except…he’s a fucking mass murderer.
You really need to pull yourself together.
There are still four more people to meet, but so far, you’re enjoying this experience. You don’t think you’ll mind meeting the others and you’re definitely looking forward to spending more time with the men already inside.
At least, you think so. Because just as the director calls “CUT” for commercial break, the hairs on the back of your neck stand high as you feel the telltale rush of two very opposite sources of cursed energy flare from inside the mansion. Those in the crew with even a smidge of cursed energy feel it too, because their heads snap over towards the building the men will reside in as well.
IN THE MANSION
“And then Yuji was like– what if we just put Panda in the exhibit? How much do you think it will freak everyone out when he stands up and just starts talking?!” Gojo speaks to Nanami enthusiastically. He’s waving his arms retelling the story, bursting into raucous laughter. “I swear that kid is hilarious!”
Nanami stares patiently at the wall ahead of him. In all honesty, he hasn’t heard a word Gojo has said. That’s usually how things go between them. Gojo rambles, Nanami grunts with feigned interest and eventually, Gojo gets bored and leaves to bother someone else. Unfortunately for him, with none of the students around or Principal Yaga, Nanami is now his sole target.
But Nanami doesn’t care about that right now. He’s thinking about you, and how he should have said more, made more of an impression. Now he’s inwardly beating himself up since he stepped into the house and was greeted by his colleague. He wonders if he’ll stand out among the other contestants. He should have put himself out there with you instead of scurrying off as soon as he had the chance.
It’s just that…you’re a lot more stunning than Nanami had anticipated and the moment he saw you, he’d reverted into formalities and awkwardness. It reminded him of how he was in high school.
Nanami is drowning out Gojo with thoughts of you and how he could possibly get more one-on-one time with you later tonight when he hears Gojo suddenly shut up. He peers up briefly, catching sight of Gojo’s scowl, brows furrowed harshly as he stares hard at the entryway. Another contestant must be here, one that Gojo isn’t particularly fond of.
And Nanami knew exactly who that would be.
The moment those soft steps carry in Curse User, Suguru Geto, Nanami instantly finds himself in the center of a pissing match of their cursed energies fighting for dominance in the room. Unlike most Sorcerers and curses, Suguru doesn’t fear Gojo in the slightest. Most people would cower away, move to the other side of the room and take a seat. But not Suguru. In fact, he strides right over to where his two old classmates sit on the sofa – Gojo on the end, Nanami in the center and now, Suguru on the other end of the sofa.
He grins tauntingly at Gojo, who holds his stare. “Nanami,” he greets, not even bothering to look at the blonde. His eyes are locked on his target. “Satoru…”
“Geto-san,” Nanami nods curtly. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing you here.”
Suguru hums cheerily. “Well, I suddenly found myself in the market for love.”
Satoru snorts, rolling his eyes. “You? Like you’d know how to love anyone besides yourself.”
Nanami sighs between the two men, already feeling his annoyance begin to build up. He had not missed these petty arguments.
“Oh, you know I’m capable of loving more than just myself,” Suguru purrs and Nanami can feel Gojo’s cursed energy waver slightly. Beside him, Suguru chuckles happily. Probably because he got the reaction he was looking for and so easily, too. “Anyway, Nanami, I’m truly surprised to see you here. You don’t strike me as someone interested in romantic relationships.”
Nanami doesn’t reply. Instead, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, feeling a headache already coming on. There were days where he had hoped to have Geto and Gojo be able to coexist in the same space again, as chaotic as they were together. But if it was going to be like this, they may need to get sent home quickly.
Wait–
Nanami’s eyes shoot open, scanning the room until his gaze falls on the bar across the massive living area. This is the perfect chance to get some time alone with his thoughts.
“Excuse me,” he interjects, pardoning himself from whatever was going on with the two men beside him.
It was time to think about how he can make a better impression, get some time with you after the others have arrived. Maybe even secure a rose tonight. He’s only interested in moving forward with you. And while Gojo and Geto are too busy taking sly digs at each other on the sofa, Nanami’s thoughts are cooking up a petty scheme to get rid of those two as soon as he can.
“You’re lucky I don’t blow a hole through your head right now, Suguru,” Satoru threatens, scowl deepening if possible.
But Suguru just smirks, leaning back against the sofa. “Well, you always were good at blowing my head, weren’t you?” He closes his eyes, smiling wide, like he’s reminiscing on some sweet memory.
It makes Satoru…feel weird. Suguru knows just how to get under his skin in ways that remind him of the old Suguru. But he’s not him anymore. Outside of this, he’s his enemy. In this house, he’s just his competition.
Satoru is here for you. He hasn’t seen his ex…friend in years and it’s bringing up all of these strange feelings that he hasn’t had to face in so long. And to make matters worse, Suguru is here for you, too. Now there’s just another person in the way of him winning your heart. Suguru was always popular with women and men.
Nanami? Satoru could absolutely win against him. Don’t get him wrong, he loves Nanami, thinks he’s great and respectable and maybe he’d be a great fit for you. But Satoru would be an even better fit for you. Perfect, even.
But with Suguru here now, there was real competition. And now The Strongest was beginning to doubt himself.
BACK OUTSIDE
“When’s the next contestant supposed to show?” The director calls to someone in the cast.
You’ve been waiting for a while now, and you’re pretty sure you should have been on commercial break twenty minutes ago.
“They’re having car issues,” someone calls back, a phone pressed to their ear.
Great, more waiting. Not that you have anywhere to be. You’re simply here to look pretty and smile when a Sorcerer shows up.
The mansion seems to have calmed down, those cursed energies dissipating and you hope that wasn’t the result of the guys killing each other in there. You don’t know all the gory details of Satoru and Suguru’s relationship. You just know they’re the strongest modern day Sorcerers at the moment, that they used to be extremely close when they were kids and then when Suguru snapped, their friendship quickly went up in flames.
If they had any contact after Suguru’s defection, you’d have no clue. But with the way those cursed energies went into overdrive the moment Suguru entered the mansion, you’re concerned with how their history will affect their time on the show.
You can’t say that you’d hate to be stuck between the middle of those two. How could you? You’re literally on a reality show about being the center of attention for multiple men! And so far, everyone is sexy and charismatic and–
The intense screech of metal scraping along the concrete disrupts your thoughts, and the cameras pan around just in time to catch a limousine rounding the corner and approaching the driveway. The rear tires are completely blown out, the metal wheels barely carrying the vehicle forward. The sounds make you want to cover your ears and hide. The car’s bumper hangs from the back, dragging and knocking loudly along the road as the car moves along. Sparks fly haphazardly across the ground and the smell of burning rubber almost has your eyes watering.
From the corner of your eye, you see another camera swinging around to catch your reaction which is that of astonishment.
“Who is this?!” You speak into the lens, eyes wide like saucers.
The sudden noise of the engine popping and sputtering, surely giving out, pulls your gaze back to the vehicle. It’s stopped for all of three seconds before one enormous fist bursts through the blacked out windows and sends shattered glass flying. Behind you, several people on the crew gasp. That same hand pats around the outside of the car, tattooed muscles flexing until it finally lands on the handle of the door. The chauffeur exits the limo and backs away as quickly and quietly as possible, abandoning their passenger.
And it isn’t until that large hand tears the entire car door from its hinges with little to no effort and tosses it aside carelessly that you see why. Out climbs the largest being you’ve ever seen in your life. No shirt – because how could you dress the four tattooed arms he possesses?! And surely wearing a shirt has to be quite uncomfortable when you have a mouth on your stomach!
It’s clear who this is, because everyone in the Jujutsu world is educated on the strongest curse to have ever existed. And yet you still can’t believe what you’re seeing with your eyes. You need someone else to confirm it for you. And so you turn your head towards the camera, staring straight into it as you shakily ask the audience…
“Is that **BLEEP** Ryoumen Sukuna?!”
#jjk x y/n#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk fic#getou suguru x y/n#jjk x you#anime x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x reader#sukuna x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#nanami kento x reader#hiromi higuruma x reader#choso x reader#suguru geto x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#kento nanami x reader#higuruma hiromi x reader#higuruma x reader#nanami x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#toji x reader#choso kamo x reader
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Skz hyung line reacting to their so falling asleep on them.
Hey yall, sorry I was literally dead for the past week+ I kinda sorta forgot tumblr existed :D
Anyways i was daydreaming the other day and was like *Le Gasp* i could write this for my tumblr.
So that's why this is here
Enjoy?
Warnings: some cursing,
Maknae line will be linked here when i write it :3
Chan
Ok
Imagine this
You've just come home from a long day out with your friends
And you are EXHAUSTED
You walk through the door and just want to find Chan and sleep
Same
You wander around the house untill you find him working at his computer
You just flop down onto him
And he's like ??
Because you just came in and sat on him
I feel like he would be kinda concerned?
Especially if your not really cuddly or a napper
But because your already falling asleep you don't pay attention to his worry
He would just end up still working with you sleeping on him because the grind cant stop
He would rub your back😌
I feel like he would do it unconsciously
Or he would just hold you
If another member walks in he's just like >:(
Because your sleeping and he thinks they'll wake you up
My boi has got some trust issues
But when you wake up he's just 🥰
Because you look so cute and he's glad your okay
But he wants you to stay on his lap
You trapped there >:>
He would secretly hope you fall asleep avain so he can look doen at you while you sleep because he just finds it so cute
😭
Minho
This man-
He would love it
No doubt 😔👍
The two of you would be walking back from a date but it would be really late at night
You would keep yawning and he would keep laughing at you because you said you weren't tired as you yawn again
By the time you got back you would be leaning on him
You got home and just wanted to lay down on the floor
But he wouldn't let you
He would drag you to the bathroom and make you get un-ready
Then he would finally lead you to your shared bedroom
You would just fall onto the bed and lay there on top of the sheets
Meanwhile Minho just sits down on his side of the bed and pulls a whole ass book out
?
He's just planning to read while you suffer?
Yes
Is he even a reader?
Ok wait i actually don't know *insert frantic skz wiki search*
*Still has no clue*
*cries*
Anyways
He would pull out a book and start reading it
Meanwhile you would drag yourself across the bed to him and sit on his lap
*immediately falls asleep*
He would be mildly sirprised
He knew you were tired but he didn't know you were this tired
Feels kinda guilty because he kept you up for so long
Abandons the book and watches TV instead
Cradles you in his arms😭
He would try to hold you in his arms as tight as possible
He tries not to fall asleep because he wants to keep looking at your sleeping face smooshed against his shoulder
But eventually falls asleep because he's also tired
Like Chan if you wake up before him you wont be able to get out of his arms
Even in sleep he doesn't want to let you go☻
If he wakes up first he'll go right back to staring at your face
But he would eventually fall back asleep and you would just sleep in each others arms
:3
Changbin
🥺
He would be tired with you
You would be watching a movie together
And your eyes would keep getting heavier and heavier
Untill you half fell asleep but were still trying to stay awake
And he can tell your half asleep and just find it so cute😭👍
But hes also tired
So when you do eventually fall asleep he takes it as a sign to turn the movie off
You would snuggle into him in your sleep
Hug him
Please
In your sleep
Because if you do
He would just 🥰🥰 melt
You would both fall asleep on the couch and almost fall off in the middle of the night
Because the couch cant hold Binnies buffness
I think he would put himself on the outside so if anyone was to fall it would be him
You would just wake up in the middle of thr night to a THUNK
As he hits the ground
And then he would get back on the couch only for it to happen again a couple hours later😭
Give this man a break
Lets just say neither of you got very much sleep that night
But when he wakes up to you in his arms it makes up for all the lost hours of sleep and bruises
He's whipped🥰
Hyunjin
He would be ✨painting✨
And you would just want some Jinnie time
But he's painting
But your tired after working all day
BUT hes painting
But your already outside the door to his studio
BUT HES PAINTING
...
Anyways you break the door down-
And walk in to find him
Hes sitting on the floor infront of a canvas
He looks up at you like (°ヘ°) did i do something wrong?
But you just plop onto his lap
And hes confuzled
But your already comfy somehow?
So your already drifting off
I think he would try to talk to you for a little while bit then realise your asleep and feel embarrassed because he was talking to you
He would wrap an arm around your waist
He would pull you closer and hold you tight
Did anyone catch that red lights reference? Nevermind it was kinda vauge
He might turn you into a piece of art tho so be cafeful
I've learned from past experiences not to sit still next to and artist because they WILL try to draw you -me, an artist
He would take pictures of you sleeping on him
Wether for art reference of just because you were cute you never quite know
But he would keep looking doen at you while he paints and just...🥰
*starts painting*
*looks down*
*🥰*
*repeat 143 times*
You get the idea
If you wrap your arms around his neck when you wake up and smile at him he may combust
Just a warning
👌
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WHAT HAPPENED IN MATH CLASS — JEONGIN.
pairing: jeongin x reader(afab)
genre: smut, NSFW
warnings: oral (m. receiving), in public (?), underage characters, dirty talk, cum swallowing
a/n: tumblr just deleted my post?? anyway. WE GO AGAIN!! (based on this request)
it’s pretty basic to have a crush on a guy in your math class, right? but who could even blame you, when he looked so innocent and so fucking hot at the same time? long ginger hair, a wide smile that lights up the room, sharp cheekbones, and a full pack of abs that you accidentally saw when he was taking off his hoodie. that was yang jeongin – a guy in your math class, a guy who had been on your mind 24/7.
you hated math. it has always been the subject you’ve struggled the most with. but this semester you were just dying in class. not only because it was the last one in the schedule, but also because you couldn't stop thinking about getting between jeongin's legs. the image of his cock could stick with you throughout the day and keep popping up at inopportune moments. he was sitting a few rows in front of you and a little to the right, so you’ve always had a great vision of his crotch area. it was specifically hard to pay attention to the board when he was wearing those tight black jeans. you could swear he wore them on purpose on the days you had class together.
today was the end of your procrastination. instead of the usual yawning around and looking at jeongin's dick through his pants, you were writing a test. all your slacking finally came after you, because you were one of the few people left in the classroom. the teacher allowed everyone who had already finished to leave, and gradually only you and jeongin remained sitting.
“guys, could you excuse me for a moment? i can't sit any longer without coffee and stare at the wall." the teacher chuckled. “and no cheating! i can see everything, even if I'm not here!”
you and jeongin smiled and nodded enthusiastically, already realizing that this test would be passed at least for a b.
as soon as the door closed behind your teacher, jeongin ran headlong to the desk and grabbed his phone.
“ay, ay, ay!” you grinned. “i’ll rat on you.”
“yeah, try it.” jeongin retorted, continuing to search for answers on the web. his eyes widened in fright for a second, but then he smiled sweetly as soon as he realized you were joking. “no one forbids you to take the phone too.”
“unlike you, I want to get grades in an honest way.” you didn't take your sight off him, continuing to observe how cute his eyebrows were frowning in an attempt to find the right information.
jeongin ignored you - he was too involved in the task. normally you would have left him alone and then pretended that nothing had happened. but for some reason, it was today that you wanted to develop this first contact that you finally had. you have never spoken in all the time that you studied together. you often saw him in the hallways, and you knew he was on the basketball team. sometimes you came to the games just to admire his muscles. but you never dared to to start a genuine conversation with him.
getting up from your seat, you crept up to the distracted jeongin from behind and deftly snatched the phone out of his hands, immediately jumping aside.
“hey! what are you doing?!” jeongin was inadvertently taken aback. he tried to retrieve the phone, but you hid your hands behind your back, showing him a pink tongue.
“take it!”
“are you fucking serious?” his face was a mixture of incomprehension and anger. “what if the teacher comes in right now?”
“then he'll see what a bad boy you are." you kept backing away until your back hit the wall.
“and you're miss justice, then?" jeongin came awfully close, cutting off your escape route with one hand. “give it back.”
“no. find it yourself.” you grinned, meanwhile hiding the phone behind the belt of your skirt.
“you're fucking kidding me." the guy swore, making you laugh. even when he was angry, he didn't stop looking cute. “where is it?”
“no idea!” you put your hands up as if to show your innocence. “must have disappeared into thin air!”
in the next second, jeongin’s patience apparently snapped and you found yourself pressed face-first into the wall with your hands held together from behind by his one hand. all you could do was gasp in surprise.
jeongin just sighed and pulled his phone out of your secret place.
you thought he would let you go as soon as he got the phone, but he continued to hold your hands behind your back, pressing you into the wall. you twitched in his grip, still hoping that he would let you go. but jeongin only moved closer to you with his whole body, so that you could feel his muscular chest, and whispered right in your ear.
“should i tie you to my chair so that you don't do anything else?”
and you whined. whined from his proximity and the words he was saying. your dirty mind immediately began to create pictures of you sitting with your hands tied under his table, with your mouth full of his cock, saliva dripping on your chin, trying to please him with your tongue without making a sound.
jeongin froze. you could feel his hot breath on your neck, the grip of your wrists only got tighter. but no one was saying anything for a hot minute.
“i’m- i’m sorry- i should get back to the test-” jeongin spoke first, haltingly.
finally, he let go of your hands and you immediately faced him. his expression made you want to suck him off even more. the blush spread across his cheeks, the tips of his ears turned red, and he looked anywhere but at you, nervously shifting from heel to toe. he was about to move away, but you stopped him by taking his hand.
“wait!”
slowly and carefully, you stepped closer, praying that he wouldn't reject you. that would be so embarrassing. you couldn't believe that this was happening to you. where did you get so much courage from?
the tension was unbearable. his widened eyes kept watching you, but he didn’t move an inch. you could only guess what was going on inside his read right now.
the surroundings were long forgotten. the test, the teacher, the fact that you were standing in the middle of the classroom — it all didn’t matter anymore. you couldn't help but smile at how jeongin's breath hitched when your lips met his. you kissed him the way you dreamed about kissing him — deep, steamy, and full of solid and unambiguous intent. jeongin’s hands remained in the air, and you had to put them on your waist, which he immediately squeezed tightly.
“don't worry, i'm not running away.” you pulled back just to admire his red face again.
jeongin nodded shyly and reached your hand, directing it to his crotch, letting you realize how hard he already was. his confident actions made you gasp. how could he be such a perfect mix of cuteness and depravity?
jeongin kept guiding you up and down and you played along, adding more pressure with your hand. he hissed and buried his face in the crook of your neck.
"why haven’t we talked before?" he whispered at the edge of the moan, hot breath making your skin fill with goosebumps.
he immediately went down for your neck — light bites accompanying his wet tongue. your body flinched, the gasp came out of you. the pool that your pussy made inside your panties was becoming unbearable.
to your surprise, jeongin didn’t stop. leaving the question hanging in the air, he started to grind against your hand, whimpering as your fingers tugged at his waistband.
“want you…” was all he could whisper. breathless and desperate, he pushed you down on your knees and you let him.
everything was happening just like in your wildest fantasies, except…
“can i…” you paused, embarrassed at what you were about to lay out loud. “can i do it under your desk? i’ve been wanting this for so long-“
jeongin chuckled and grinned at you from above. he studied your face for a bit, making sure you weren't messing with him again, but still went to his assigned place. plumping on the chair, he spread his legs in the most manly way. you gulped.
he didn’t leave you any space to climb under the desk comfortably, so you had to squeeze yourself to get there. and the burn in your knees was only making your hornier. it was a little tight and uncomfortable at first, but that’s exactly what you wanted this whole time — to get on your knees for jeongin.
“naughty girl.” jeongin smiled at you, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. the view of him from below was magical. "have you been thinking about me often?”
he pushed his finger into your mouth, making you suck on it. you obeyed.
“every time we are in this class…” you admitted, while trying to talk while covering his thumb with your saliva. a pink blush spreading across your cheeks.
he chucked again and cursed under his breath. “you know you look incredibly hot like this?”
“yeah?” you grinned, finally going for his zipper. your actions were quick — that’s how much you wanted him right now.
jeongin could only hold his breath in anticipation, letting you do whatever to him.
as soon as you managed to get his jeans lowered just enough for his hard, leaky length to be exposed, your mouth watered. jeongin was panting heavily, unable to take his sight off you. your pretty face was looking at his cock with round eyes, lips already open and ready to take him full. this view was about to make him cum on the spot.
you trailed kisses on his thigh, getting closer to his cock. “bet you taste sweet.”
jeongin let out a soft, breathy moan. "fucking hell-"
you touched him, hesitantly at first, spreading precum on his tip. but seeing how sensitive he was, you decided to put on an even bigger show and spit on his cock suddenly. saliva dropped on the tip and connected your lips and his flesh. jeongin whined and you smiled cheekily, enjoying his every reaction. he was gorgeous, eyes dark and skin flushed down to his chest.
your grip on his dick tightened a little in a silent warning. “umm… try not to be loud?”
“yeah, sure.” jeongin said with a chuckle. “no probl—ahm, ooh fuck- oh fuck!”
you swiped your thumb in a circular motion around the slit; jeongin, humiliatingly, whimpered. you grinned and did it again.
“faster, please-” he sucked a breath when you sped up, twisting a little at the end of every stroke. “yeah. gosh- you’re perfect…”
emboldened, you lowered your head and gave it a lick, pressing hard on his length with your tongue and focusing more on the head this time. jeongin made a strangled noise and thrusted his hips closer to your mouth, almost pushing himself in.
in response to that, you deepthroated him, trying to examine every expression on his face. and you got rewarded.
his eyebrows furrowed and he moaned loudly. “wow...”
you let go of his cock for a second just to scold him. “you are so loud! cover your mouth!”
“oh! yeah, sorr- HOLY mmff-” jeongin muffled, involuntarily fisting his hand in your hair and pushing you deeper on his cock.
the pressure was a little too sudden. that made you choke, but you continued regardless.
“oh god! sorry, sorry!” jeongin kept apologizing in the most sympathetic tone and purposely brought his hands behind his back.
and for some reason that made you realize you got so turned on by his bold actions and sweet personality that you were throbbing.
“i don’t mind.” you said, rubbing your palm up his belly, wishing there was more of him to touch. “i actually kind of like it. so you can keep-”
“you’re so fucking hot-“ jeongin interrupted, slipping his hand back into your hair, giving you more pressure from the top.
you could feel he was so close. your mouth kept working him up as your hand squeezed his length, sliding up and down. he kept his eyes shut and threw his head back in pleasure, ginger hair smeared over his forehead. you wanted to swallow up every sound and every bead of sweat that glistened on his skin, so you bobbed your head and sucked harder.
jeongin choked out, groaning. “i’m gonna-”
you gripped the bottom of his length tighter and that was enough to send him over the edge. he came fast and loud, spilling hot spurts in your mouth. a few of it dropped around, landing on your skirt and legs.
“oh my god- i got your clothes dirty. i’m sorry!”
and the usual sweet jeongin was back, like nothing ever happened. he moved the desk, so you can get out easily.
you smiled softly at him. “it’s whatever. i can clean it easily.”
there wasn’t much time for talking, because the classroom door opened as you got on your knees. jeongin just had enough time to tuck his dick in his pants.
“i’m gonna pretend i didn’t hear any of that.” teacher said immediately, making both of you red again. “but you’ll have to take the test another day. separately.”
-> reblog to support me, if you enjoyed reading this and please let me know your thoughts in the comments! ♡
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This is kinda like a funny silly request but maybe y/n pranking enhypen like she pranks them with like slamming the car door (sorry if that’s confusing I think there is tik toks that can give you a better visual 😭)
⭒ fluff, ot7
⭒ c's note: i think I know what you mean jfkds. reblogs are appreciated!
⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @enhabooks
heeseung had invited you to a party and even offered to give you a ride on his car. once you reached the destination, he got out first, saying he'd open the door for you. it was your perfect chance to get out on your own as he circled the back of the car, and slam the door with force. he stood there perplexed as you tried to contain a straight face, but gave up when he stayed frozen in place. heeseung tried to scold you for "damaging" his car, but eventually started laughing with you, admitting you caught him this once.
jay was taking you on a peaceful car ride around town, carpooling and having a lot of fun in general. it took him by surprise when you slammed the door as you were getting off the car when he pulled over at the park. he got off quickly, looking for signs of discomfort in your eyes, but was greeted instead with a mischievous laugh. he caught on to it being a prank quite fast, and only laughed to himself finding your humor adorable.
you and jake were on your way to an amusement park that had opened in the city. you two were quite excited so he didn't take it bad when you got out of the car and slammed the door. to be completely honest, you had forgotten about the prank, slamming the door being your genuine reaction due to the rush of adrenaline you felt at that moment.
sunghoon had offered you both ate at a restaurant on this occasion, just for the fun of it. he was indeed startled when you slammed the door of his car as you got off, but he had seen a few videos like this on the internet, so he didn't take it at heart. he knew he was right the moment you looked back at him giggling, making him laugh back with you. he appreciated the moment of joy you brought to his life, even if the pranks "damaged" his car.
sunoo gasped in surprised when you slammed the door of his car when he dropped you off back home. he got out of the car and followed you, worried he might've done or said something that upset you. you tried to keep your facade up but gave up when you saw how genuinely worried he was, reassuring it was a prank and apologizing for scaring him.
jungwon would be quite startled as well when you slammed the door without saying anything. you tried to stay mysterious about it, but the confusing looks he gave you were quite funny, making you giggle. he caught on to this whole thing being a prank, only shaking his head and laughing to himself finding you cute.
ni-ki had gotten a car not very long ago, and it was basically his eyes. to celebrate such achievement, he invited you to take a stroll with him around town. once it was time to drop you off at your house, you bid your goodbye to him and slammed the door a little too hard on purpose. ni-ki was caught off guard by the behavior, quickly rolling down the windows to ask what was wrong. he had a shocked face when you told him it was a prank, laughing more when he started scolding you for messing with his new car. he was definitely getting back at you one day.
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#enhypen#engene#enhypen fluff#enhyoen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#heeseung#jay#jake#sunghoon#sunoo#jungwon#niki#enhypen heeseung#enhypen jay#enhypen jake#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen sunoo#enhypen jungwon#enhypen niki
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Hey Sam. Considering some recent posts I thought you might be interested in this article.
A deaf and blind mind: What it's like to have no visual imagination and no inner voice?
https://www.abc.net.au/news/2024-04-01/aphantasia-no-visual-imagination-inner-voice/103649486
Hope you enjoyed the long weekend! Cheers, Kate.
Oh, thanks for this! And apologies my response is like a MONTH LATE :D
It's an interesting article because it's more about the study than the topic directly -- which is not a bad thing, it's cool to see people working in that space getting profiled and hopefully getting attention/funding on account of it.
Especially interesting was the discussion of ways of "having" thoughts and the fact that Derek doesn't pre-hear his speech. I do actually often rehearse what I'm going to say but primarily, I think more like Loren, when I'm writing -- I may, for example, get a question on Tumblr and go about my chores for the next half hour kind of mentally laying out how I'll respond, but it's not like I hear my own voice, I'm just structuring the response. And I don't usually pre-hear spoken thoughts -- I don't pre-hear them at all, but if I'm going to give a presentation or have a difficult conversation I will often work out some modes of speech/response ahead of time.
I'm of two opinions about the reference to the mind being "deaf and blind" -- my knee-jerk reaction is that it's an actively bad way to describe aphantasia, because it implies that there's an impairment to cognition itself, which I don't think is the case. On the other hand, we don't think of hearing or visually impaired people as lacking senses, just as having a different experience of them, which does line up with how aphantic cognition happens, at least I think. It's true that unless I'm actively working at it, I don't see or hear anything in my mind, and even when I'm working at it I generally can't "hear" -- I can recite song lyrics mentally and they will be in the rhythm of the song, but I don't hear the music or the singer.
There's a highly stupid "test" that's gone around that's meant to indicate if you're transgender, which asks you to imagine a stick with a red end and a blue end, floating vertically in front of you, with the red end on the bottom and the blue end on the top. You're meant to imagine it rotating three times end over end, and then say what position the colored ends are in (which is on bottom, which is on top) after the rotation. Apparently depending on whether you have a "male" or "female" mind, you'll read "rotate three times" differently and a different color will be on top. This is self-evidently dumb but also when I encountered it I had to keep re-reading it because I couldn't picture something so abstract, let alone picture it moving, and I kept forgetting what was supposed to be where. Gender essentialism: defeated by neurodiversity!
In any case, I don't have the deep, profound grief that some people who were diagnosed with cognitive disability post-adolescence have, I think in part because my ADHD is mild and I did okay -- not great, but sufficient -- without treatment. But I do think that if I had been diagnosed with ADHD or known about aphantasia when I was a kid (not that it was conceptually present in the field when I was a kid) I would have probably gone into neuroscience or some related profession, or I would have stuck with my psych degree in undergrad. The longer I do this reading the more I wish I was working in that space. I don't think I have it in me to go back to school for a hard science, especially not if I continue working, but in a different world, I would have liked to have been a contributor to this kind of work.
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When We Howl, the Moon Will Cower: Chapter 4
A/N: I'd say I'm sorry this chapter is so long, but I feel like no one actually wants to hear that. We've got a little bit of everything! Cassian getting his ass handed to him. Nessian banter. Mama A being the worst. And SMUT! Anyways, hope everyone enjoys
Additional note: I'm really sorry to everyone on my tag list. Tumblr won't let me tag any accounts for some reason. It won't let me select when I paste it in and it keeps saying "no blogs found" when I try typing manually which I know is a damn lie 😭
Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part
Cassian
Cassian watches as Nesta works through the combination, fists hitting against Cresseida’s raised palms. Her hair is tied back in a braid that runs down her back, the strands swishing across her shoulder blades with each movement and glinting beneath the rays of the afternoon sun. She’s been at it for a while, pink coloring the apples of her cheeks and stretching down her throat to her collarbones, and even from where he’s standing, Cassian can see the beads of sweat speckled across her skin.
Before he can stop them, his thoughts start to spiral down and down. He still remembers the last time he saw that sheen along her skin. Still remembers exactly how far down that flush can go. His body still too keyed-up after sleeping beside her the night before. He has to tilt his head up toward the sky with a sigh, determined to cool the heat sparking and simmering in his veins.
When Cassian focuses his attention back down, Nesta and Cresseida have moved on to sword practice. Wooden sword in hand, Nesta moves first slowly then with more speed through the steps Cresseida directs. Cassian keeps waiting for Cresseida to correct Nesta’s stance, but after the fourth repetition, he can’t take it any longer, striding across the training rings.
“Watch your foot.”
Nesta sighs at the sound of his voice, dropping her wooden sword to her side and turning to him with an unimpressed expression. “What?”
“Your foot. You’re turning it inward each time you lunge,” Cassian explains, gesturing down toward the foot in question. “You’ll lose strength and control doing that.”
Nesta glances down to her own feet, and Cassian wonders briefly if she intends to ignore the advice out of pure stubbornness, out of pure, witchy spite. Another way for her to pull one over on him while they’re trapped in this blazing wildfire burning around them, between them. But instead, surprisingly, Nesta readjusts her stance, shifting her foot so it faces forward.
“Thanks,” Nesta mutters, raising her sword again to work through the same sequence. “Did you need something else then?”
“Just trying to help, sweetheart.”
“And yet, I don’t recall ever asking for it.”
“Cassian!”
Cassian turns at the call of his name, finding Baz just outside the training rings. For once, there’s no smile on his third’s face, his brown eyes missing their usual, playful spark. It has cold dread flooding through Cassian’s limbs, crystalizing between his ribs until the weight twists and presses in. He breathes through the churning in his gut, but his muscles feel tense, his lips pressed into a grim line by the time Baz reaches him.
“What’s happened?” Cassian demands, skipping right past pleasantries.
“Alistair and Cormac have returned,” Baz explains.
Cassian sighs softly, squinting back toward the village and the rows of cabins, his mind reeling over this news. There’s no denying the relief that floods through him, the way it soothes the fear that always sparks within him every time they send out scouts. But what did they see? What information are they bringing back? It’s a stark reminder of the storm clouds looming just over the horizon, of the thunder shaking the ground beneath Cassian’s feet, beneath the pack’s security.
Nodding to himself, Cassian turns his attention back to Baz. “Gather the elders. We’ll meet immediately.”
“Already on it.”
Baz turns on his heels, jogging away, and Cassian watches him go before making his way toward the meeting hall with another sigh. Anxiety prickles across his skin at what they’ll learn, what will be discussed. He makes it a few steps outside of the training rings when the sound of a second set of footsteps reaches his ears, Cassian stopping short. He turns to find Nesta walking beside him, her brows furrowing at their sudden halt.
“What are you doing?” Cassian asks, gesturing back toward the training rings. “Go back to training with Cresseida.”
“It sounds like there’s important news, clearly an important meeting,” Nesta offers, peering up at him as if it’s obvious.
“And?”
“And? And I’m joining you.”
Cassian scoffs, crossing his arms. “You’re not attending this meeting.”
“What,” Nesta snaps dryly, her tone low and incredulous. “Why not?”
“I’m not having a witch in the room when we discuss pack business.”
Cassian is certain that the glare Nesta settles him with would cut down a lesser man where he stands. The blue of her eyes is pure ice, a fire burning in them and promising to swallow him whole in a blazing storm. She steps closer to him, her chest brushing against his own with every annoyed, heaving breath, lip pulled back in a sneer.
“I am your wife,” Nesta reminds him, words cold and clipped.
Cassian leans down until they’re eye to eye, offering a glare of his own. “I didn’t choose you.”
This close together, Cassian catches it, the way her mask slips for just a moment. He almost thinks he imagined it, that flash of emotion in her eyes, before the fury returns. He doesn't dare look down, look away from her gaze, but he can feel the sparks of silver flames prickling across his skin where their hands hang a hairsbreadth apart. He resets his stance, shifting his feet and preparing for the impact of her magic.
“You’re a godsdamned bastard,” Nesta seethes.
She doesn’t say anything else, surprisingly keeping a leash on her magic and her rage. Instead, she turns on her heel, stalking back toward Cresseida on the other side of the training rings. Cresseida meets Cassian’s gaze briefly, shaking her head, before holding out the wooden sword for Nesta to take again. But Cassian doesn’t have time for disappointment or other’s opinions on what he should or shouldn’t do.
On how he should or shouldn’t run his pack.
He winds his way through the village until he reaches the meeting hall. Baz and Emerie are already standing outside, and he offers them both a nod in greeting.
“Are all the elders gathered?”
“Everyone’s gathered and ready, yeah,” Baz explains, glancing behind him to the open doorway.
“Where's Nesta?” Emerie asks, looking pointedly over Cassian’s shoulder as though she expects the witch to appear.
“Hell if I know,” Cassian shrugs, moving to step forward into the meeting hall but Emerie is quick to step directly into his path, blocking him. He rolls his eyes. “Last I left her, she was at the training rings with Cresseida.”
“Should we wait for her before we start, then? One of us can go grab her,” Baz offers.
Cassian lets out a derisive snort. “Why would we wait for her? She’s not attending a pack meeting.”
The cold look Emerie settles him with rivals Nesta’s. “She’s your wife.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that? Did everyone forget that I didn’t choose her?”
“Did you forget that she didn’t choose this either?” Emerie demands, smacking him hard in the chest. “You were there. Her mother practically sold her and her sisters like cattle. I thought I already told your dumbass you need to respect her.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Cassian growls, side stepping around Emerie and into the meeting hall. “Let’s go.”
“Fucking idiot…”
~ * * * ~
The sigh that tumbles past Cassian’s lips is heavy, icy claws sinking into his lungs and drawing blood with the exhale. He digs his fingers through his hair, the strands already starting to knot with how many times he’s repeated the gesture. The map continues to lay splayed out across the wood of the table in front of him, and all he can do is stare at it, blink at it.
“We’ll have to inform the vamps and the Vanserras,” Baz’s voice draws Cassian from his quickly spiraling thoughts. “We can’t keep this information to ourselves.”
“A temple,” Emerie whispers, almost to herself. “What kind of evil do you have to be to attack and destroy a temple?”
“If Cormac is right, they got whatever they were looking for,” Cassian comments, leaning forward over the map and sliding his finger along the parchment, along the ink of the lines, the trees and the mountains. “Hybern’s even more dangerous now, and we need to be ready. We need to up our defenses along the western lines, make sure our warning system gives us as much time as possible.”
“You really think Hybern would try something? Attack the pack directly?” Baz asks, a hollowness taking over his usual sunny expression.
“Mother knows what Hybern is thinking or planning,” Cassian says, pushing back up to his feet. “But I’m not willing to risk it. Not willing to risk our pack.”
Emerie nods in agreement, the weight of what Cormac and Alistair described finding at the temple clearly still pressing on her even as she defiantly holds her chin up high. “I’ll make sure the new orders are delivered and implemented.”
“Tomorrow,” Cassian offers, giving Emerie’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “We’ll worry about implementing everything tomorrow. I think we all could use a night off after that.”
“And maybe a drink,” Baz mutters, the barest hint of a smile starting to return.
Cassian chuckles softly, unable to deny the idea sounds appealing. He has a bottle of whiskey back at his cabin that’s smooth and aged, and it might just be calling his name. “And maybe that too.”
Cassian rolls up the map and returns it the rightful place, following his second and third out the door the elders vacated what feels like hours ago. True to his teasing words, Baz heads for the pack’s favorite watering hole, Emerie vanishing toward her cabin to find her wife. It leaves Cassian to make the trek back to his own cabin alone.
The meeting lasted for hours, darkness having now blanketed across the village. The clouds shimmer and shift across the face of the moon, the silver light rippling like waves across the grass where it bleeds through, casting shadows over the trees and cabins. He just hopes it means that Nesta may have already retired for the night. The last thing he wants after that meeting is to rehash an argument with her.
He’s already dreaming of a tall glass of whiskey, of settling before the fire and relaxing at least for one night, as he makes his way up the steps to his cabin. He reaches forward for the handle of the front door, but a shock jolts through his fingertips, skittering up his arm and through his entire body. His eyebrows pinch, and he shakes out the pins and needles before trying again, only to earn the same reaction, his every muscle tensing in response.
“What the fuck…”
Cassian raises his hand, carefully, slowly, pressing his palm forward. The magic glimmers around his touch, spreading outward in silver swirls that Cassian suspects must be some sort of runes. They stretch all the way up and around the cabin like a shield.
A ward.
She’s put a ward around the cabin, locking him out.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Nesta?” Cassian shouts, loud enough she can hear him from wherever she is inside. “Let me in!”
Only silence answers Cassian, mocks him.
“Nesta, I know you can hear me! This isn’t fucking funny.”
Cassian growls in frustration when there’s still no response. He slams a fist against the ward, but the magic seems to give back whatever impact thrown at it, silver flaring around him and the force sending him stumbling back a few steps. He scrubs a hand through his hair and down his face, sending a silent prayer up to the Mother. He doesn’t know how long his stubborn witch of a wife intends to let him stew, but it’s clear that it’s going to be a long night.
~ * * * ~
Nesta
Nesta tugs on the strands of her hair, shifting them until they sit how she wants. She holds them steady in place, plucking the pin from between her teeth and sliding it between the strands. Examining her work in the mirror, she hums quietly in approval, finally stepping back and toward the door. She winds her way through the cabin and to the front door, but her steps stop short when she pulls it open.
Cassian is curled up on his side, his back to the door. One arm is tucked up beneath his head, cheek pillowed on his bicep, and his hair is a tangled mess all around his face. For a moment, Nesta can do nothing but gape, nothing but blink in surprise at the sight of him here in front of the door. When she’d warded the cabin last night, she assumed that he’d find somewhere else to sleep, perhaps crash with Baz wherever the third’s cabin is.
Guilt begins to spool in Nesta’s gut, but then she remembers everything that happened yesterday. She remembers how Cassian seems set on locking her out of everything involving this pack. As if being isolated from her family through this farce of a marriage wasn’t bad enough, she’s stuck being just as isolated here thanks to her dear husband. As if Hybern and its king aren’t as much of a threat to her as they are to Cassian and the pack.
All of the anger and rage from yesterday blazes back through Nesta’s veins like a wildfire, and she raises her chin, stepping right over Cassian’s still sleeping form. Hopefully, now, the alpha has learned his lesson. He wants to play games and shut her out of everything, then he can enjoy sleeping outside in the cold and being shut out of his own cabin.
“Nesta.”
Nesta sighs, pausing just two steps down from the cabin. She turns around just in time to watch Cassian scramble up to his feet. Despite not being in his wolf form, his eyes still glow golden, furious in the way they spark and blaze. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, brows pinched down low as he glares at her.
Nesta raises a sardonic brow, not giving him an inch with her cool expression. “Sleep well? Who knew you took your inner wolf so seriously that you take to sleeping outside now.”
“Do you think this is a fucking joke?” Cassian growls, fists clenching at his sides.
“I don’t know. Did you think yesterday was a fucking joke?”
Cassian scoffs, but Nesta has heard enough. She spins on her heel and continues down the steps that lead away from the cabin and back toward the village.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
“Emerie is waiting for me with a carriage,” Nesta explains, not stopping or turning around. “I don’t want to be late for tea with my sisters.”
She can feel Cassian’s ire following her the whole way, burning a brand into her spine. The low sound of his growl practically echoes in her ears. It has a self-satisfied smirk tugging up Nesta’s lips the whole rest of the way, and if Emerie notices her expression, she thankfully doesn’t comment on it as Nesta climbs inside the carriage, as it carries them away from the village.
It feels almost strange to be back at the Archeron manor, to peer up at the dark red brick, the spires, and the climbing ivy through the carriage window. Almost subconsciously, her thumb slides across the slightly raised skin on the back of her left hand, tracing the scar back and forth. A deep breath in and out, and Nesta opens the carriage door, stepping out and into the misty morning light.
She walks up the front steps, the front door swinging open right before she reaches it. At least, the magic imbued within the wood and brick of the house still recognizes her. Nesta steps inside, instantly greeted by the familiar smells of fresh lavender, ginger, and basil, and follows the halls all the way to the sunroom at the back of the manor.
The round table in the room is already covered in a white, lace tablecloth, a steaming teapot placed at the center. Elinor sits primly in the seat directly across from the doorway back into the main house, hair neatly and harshly tugged back away from her face and chin raised high. As soon as Nesta steps inside, her mother’s cool eyes are pinning her in place.
“Mama,” Nesta greets quietly.
Feyre is already settled in the seat directly to Elinor’s right, so Nesta takes the seat across from their mother. She chances a glance toward her youngest sister, but Feyre has her eyes cast downward, staring intently at her plate. Nesta doesn’t miss the way Feyre chews on her bottom lip, the way she aimlessly pushes around her eggs, even as her grip on her fork is white knuckled.
Giving her hands something to do, Nesta reaches forward for the teapot, pouring herself a cup. Thankfully, just as she’s taking a sip, Elain steps inside the sunroom, brown eyes wide and almost nervous as they flit around the table. She’s quick to settle into the final seat beside Nesta, fingers twisting and fisting into the skirts of her dress.
“My girls,” Elinor begins, taking the time to look at all three of them. “Back together again. Have you all been well?”
Feyre’s eyes flash up at the question, but Nesta is quick to jump in. “I’m sure we’re all still adjusting, Mama.”
Elinor hums, Nesta’s fingers twitching and tensing in response to the disapproving sound. She has to shake the urge to trace that scar on the back of her hand again, that sound and what typically followed it still haunting and prickling in the back of Nesta’s mind.
“And what have we learned, hm?” Elinor continues, folding her hands neatly in front of her. “The rumors say that Rhysand’s numbers are beyond what we’ve been led to believe. Is it true? Are there more vampires than we know?”
“How would I know that, Mama?” Feyre sighs softly.
“You’re his wife now, are you not? And what about the wolves?” Elinor asks, her attention snapping to Nesta. “There’s long been stories of their training, of their strength.”
“I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary with the pack,” Nesta explains, trying to hold her mother’s gaze but dropping her eyes to the dark swirls of her tea.
“And how about the Vanserras? And their coven’s spellbook?”
“I… I haven’t seen any spellbook, Mama,” Elain murmurs, her voice quiet.
Elinor sighs, and Nesta tries to brace for whatever is coming. “I give you girls everything that you need, set you and this family up, and this is what you offer me?”
“Mama…” Nesta starts, prepared to place herself in front of her sisters and in the line of fire with their mother if need be.
“You all have to be better. You’re Archeron women for the Mother’s sake.”
“Are we? Since you married us off,” Feyre mutters under her breath, but not quiet enough that their mother doesn’t hear.
“You insolent child,” Elinor seethes, turning her ire on her youngest daughter. “I am making you all stronger, ensuring you can take your birthright. And you’re ungrateful?” She takes a calming breath, smoothing out the lines of her skirts. “I expect you all to be better than this moving forward. At least I see you haven’t allowed the vampire bite, nor the wolf mating bite. That’s good. Elain?”
Elain’s grip on her skirts is near white-knuckled beneath the table, pink beginning to spill through her cheeks. With each second of silence that stretches around them, Nesta frowns in confusion, trying to surreptitiously reach toward her sister in comfort without their mother noticing.
“Elain,” Elinor repeats, her voice clipped.
Another tense moment passes, but then Elain slowly lifts her hands, placing them palm up on the table. The pink line across her left palm is unmistakable, still slightly puckered and not fully healed. A bonding spell, a witch’s equivalent of tying two souls together through blood and magic.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” Elain whispers, wincing when Elinor’s fingers curl around her wrist in a tight grip. “It was Eris. He insisted that Lucien and I do it.”
The response has Nesta even more confused. Elain has never been a particularly good liar, neither when they were girls and she was stealing cookies and sweets from the kitchen nor when they were teens and she was sneaking out to meet Graysen Nolan in town. And Nesta knows that Elain is lying now; although, she has no idea why.
“What were you thinking, Elain? This type of stupidity is beneath you.”
“Please, Mama. You’re hurting me.”
“Do you have any idea what this means? What you’ve done? You’re an Archeron, dammit, not some Vanserra’s tramp. Marriage or not, I will not have you tarnishing this family’s name.”
Elinor releases Elain’s wrist, crescent shaped indentations embedded in the skin from her nails. Elain clutches her hand back to her chest, cradling her wrist. Anger sparks and flares in Nesta’s chest in her sister’s defense. She glares across the table at their mother, but Elinor’s focus stays glued on Elain. The biting words sit heavy on the tip of Nesta’s tongue, poised and ready to fire without a second thought for the consequences, for what she knows it would mean to bring Elinor’s ire back her way.
As long as it’s off Elain and Feyre.
But before Nesta can say anything, Elinor pushes up to her feet. She looks down her nose at all three of her daughters, a cruel queen and her subjects. “Remember your place, remember what is expected of you as an Archeron, and do not fail me again.”
~ * * * ~
Nesta is quiet the entire carriage ride back to the pack’s village. She can feel Emerie’s curious gaze watching her from the seat across from her, but Nesta keeps her eyes firmly out the window. She watches the leaves and the trees shift and morph as they move past, her mother’s words, the whole morning, still playing over and over in her mind.
She’s an Archeron woman. A witch who comes from a long line of proud, powerful women. One of three sisters said to be blessed by the Mother herself. No matter that she’s a married woman now. No matter that she and Cassian may one day be amicable. No matter what the pack might one day mean to her. An Archeron is what her mother expects her to be, and Nesta will not fail her.
She will not be a failure again.
“Are you alright?” Emerie finally dares to break the quiet to ask. “You seem… tense.”
“I’m fine,” Nesta dismisses curtly. “Besides, you don’t need to worry about me.”
“You’re the alpha’s wife. You might be surprised, but that actually means something to me.”
The words take Nesta by surprise, and she turns her attention to the second, blinking a few times before remembering herself. “Thanks.”
Emerie shrugs like it’s easy, like it doesn’t mean anything, but it does to Nesta. It makes her feel like she may be less alone in the pack after all. She’s about to ask Emerie if she likes to read, to see if they may share any interests, but the carriage pulls to a stop. Emerie is quick to hop out, holding the door open for Nesta to step down as well.
“I promised Cresseida I’d relieve her from shop duty as soon as I got back,” Emerie explains, waving off the carriage. “You’ll be alright?”
“I’m fine.”
Emerie’s gaze sweeps over Nesta, like she doesn’t quite believe the words, but she doesn’t comment or say anything else. With a nod of her head, she heads toward the market square. Left alone, Nesta takes a moment for herself. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in, allowing the scent of the trees and the moss around her to fill her senses. The peace this deep into the forest licks at her wounds in a soothing way she doesn’t expect, has that magic within her settling like a beast returning home.
Home.
Is that what this place is now? Between her grandmother and her mother, the Archeron manor certainly never truly felt like a home. Nesta has never really felt like she had a home, not a true one,at least. When she was younger, she used to read stories of sweeping romances and believed that she could find one just like the women between those pages. Her mother always said they were nothing more than fairytale dreams, always chastised her when she had her nose in those books.
Maybe that was one thing Elinor was right about.
Sighing softly to herself, Nesta rolls her shoulders and starts along the winding path through the village, back toward the alpha cabin on the top of the hill. When she pushes through the front door, she’s surprised to find Cassian standing in the kitchen. He looks just as surprised to see her, but then his expression changes, morphs into rage with the way his lips pull back in a snarl, the way his hazel eyes flare and narrow.
Nesta had almost forgotten about Cassian, certainly forgotten about their previous argument and the ward she’d placed around the cabin last night. She’d been too caught up in her mother and her sisters, between the disaster that was tea this morning. But it’s clear that Cassian hasn’t, and it all comes crashing back to Nesta as she takes in the way he’s glaring at her.
It’s the perfect distraction.
“I see you got yourself back inside after all,” Nesta comments idly, turning her back on him and removing her shoes and her cloak.
“We need to talk about last night.”
“What’s there to talk about? I thought it was rather fitting. Perhaps, we should build you a dog house.”
Nesta turns back around, offering her best saccharine smile, knowing it’s exactly the thing to get under his skin and fuel the fire. To draw out the pull to her push until they’re burning together and everything else fades away with those flames. But Cassian merely tilts his head, watching her in that unnerving way of his as though he can see right through her. It has Nesta’s hackles raising.
“Do you want to play, Nes?” Cassian drawls, taking slow, measured steps closer to her.
“Play? There’s no playing. You’re insufferable.”
“Insufferable? That’s weak, even for you.”
Nesta scowls up at him, daring to close that final step between them until they’re toe to toe. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on. Is that the worst you’ve got? I’ve been called much worse than that, sweetheart.”
“Like what?” Nesta asks, any other cutting words dying on her tongue.
“Offended on my behalf?” Cassian fires back, reaching a hand up between them to cradle her jaw, dragging his thumb across her bottom lip.
The teasing tone has the scowl returning in an instant, Nesta smacking his hand away. “Perhaps, I want to shake the person’s hand. Exchange ideas.”
“Ideas?” Cassian continues to tease, walking Nesta back until her back hits the wall.
“Yes. Ideas I could have shared in the pack meeting yesterday.”
Any teasing drops away completely from Cassian’s expression as he rolls his eyes. “Back to that, are we? It’s my pack, remember? Did you forget who the alpha is?”
“Did you forget I’m your wife? I should have been in that meeting.”
“Oh, you want to be my wife, now? How about you be a good little wife and get on your knees and suck my cock?”
The words are crude, all but snarled in her face, but that doesn’t seem to stop the way Nesta’s body responds. She still remembers that cock all too well. Remembers the way it had felt fucking into her. Remembers the way his knot had stretched her. Remembers the delicious ache between her thighs that remained for the entire next day.
But she’ll be damned if she lets Cassian know all that.
“Fuck you,” she snarls instead, shoving at his chest, but of course his large frame in unmoving.
“You’ve certainly forgotten how good a wolf’s sense of smell is,” Cassian tells her, leaning down over her with a cocksure smirk. “You think I can’t notice the sweet scent of your arousal? Do you want to suck my cock, sweetheart?”
“It’s clear you certainly want me to.”
Nesta shifts her hand, reaching down to grip Cassian’s cock through his pants. He hisses at the contact, but she can feel how he’s already half hard, can feel the way he twitches against her palm. It’s clear he’s getting off on their back and forth just as much as she is. She rubs her hand up and down, squeezing when she reaches the head of his cock.
Cassian continues to swell beneath her ministrations, and Nesta can’t help but lick her lips. How would the weight of him on her tongue feel? How would he taste? Just the thought has her clenching her thighs, desperate for friction, for relief, beneath the skirts of her dress. There’s a hunger yawning in the space between her ribs, clawing and gnawing at her chest, and she sees that same hunger echoes in Cassian’s own burning gaze, in his darkening hazel eyes.
“The no kissing rule still applies,” Nesta tells him, pulling her hand away so she can focus on the laces of her dress. “This is just sex.”
“Just sex,” Cassian agrees, reaching a hand back to fist in his shirt, tugging it up and off.
Nesta’s dress has barely hit the floor in a crumple of fabric before Cassian is pressing fully into her space. His hands find her thighs, fingers spread wide and digging into her skin, and he hauls her up off the ground with ease. He turns on his heel, only taking a few long strides before he deposits Nesta on the kitchen table, the wood pressing against her back.
Cassian takes his time roving his eyes over her, tracing down her throat and collarbones, lingering on her heaving chest and her peaked nipples, following down her stomach and between her spread legs. He dares to reach his hand forward, shadowing that same path with two fingers. It’s a spark catching, goosebumps erupting across Nesta’s skin as she arches up against that touch.
“So pretty flushed like this,” Cassian comments idly, using those same two fingers to toy with the waistband of her undergarments. “Good enough to eat.”
Cassian gathers up his hair in his hands, tugging it away from his face and securing it with a leather band, before he slowly drops down to his knees. His fingers curl around Nesta’s ankles, calluses along his palms sliding up her calves, over her knees, up her thighs. He pries her legs further apart, leaning in until even through the fabric separating them still, Nesta can feel the ghost of his hot breath against her cunt, until he can lick a thick line over the dampness that’s already gathered there.
Cassian groans softly, giving her cunt another lick. “And oh so sweet too. Who knew just the thought of sucking my cock would have you dripping already?”
His hands slide up over her hips, and Nesta can feel the heat of them scorching her skin. She can feel the hint of claws too, teasing and drawing a shudder up her spine. Would he fuck her with those claws? What would that feel like?
The sound of tearing fabric is almost too loud, even over Nesta’s panting breaths. She snaps her attention down just in time to watch what remains of her undergarments fall away. That cocksure grin of his is out in full force, hazel eyes glinting from between her thighs. Normally, Nesta would want to wipe that smirk clean off his face, but right now, all she can think about is the sight of him on his knees before her, about the blissful release that sight promises.
“Cassian,” Nesta whines instead, trying to buck her hips up against his hold. “Please.”
“What a good girl,” Cassian praises, mouthing along Nesta’s inner thigh and drawing a soft whimper from her lips. “Now, keep those eyes on me and keep moaning my name.”
The first slide of Cassian’s tongue against her cunt has Nesta gasping, thighs squeezing instinctively around the alpha’s head. Cassian groans against her, his mouth moving to her clit and tracing slow, tortuous circles over it. Nesta tries to keep her gaze firmly on him, but it feels almost unfair. His wide shoulders bracketed between her thighs, the shorter strands of hair falling out of his updo and along his temples, and his eyes…
His eyes glow golden as though the wolf within him has decided to join as well. As though Nesta truly is the prey caught in the predator’s trap. But she’s not sure she’d rather be anywhere else.
Cassian groans again, and then he really starts to devour her. He fucks his tongue up into her, curling and flicking it along her walls. Nesta feels like she’s burning, every nerve ending blazing and focused on where Cassian’s mouth works her higher and higher. Her feet scrabble desperately for some sort of purchase, against Cassian’s shoulders, against the edge of the table.
“Cass… Cassian… fuck.”
Nesta knows that she’s babbling, knows he’s turned her into a puddle of moans and canting hips, but she can’t find it within herself to care, not with the way he plays her body so well. She slides a hand down to Cassian’s head, holding him right where he is, the other finding her own breast to pinch and tweak her nipple in time with the movements of Cassian’s tongue.
Cassian focuses his attention back on her clit, and that fire blazes hotter until it swallows Nesta whole. Her back arches up fully off the kitchen table, fingers curling tight enough in Cassian’s hair that her nails bite into his scalp. She moans loudly as her release carries her right over the edge, trailing off into a whimper when Cassian continues to lap at her still fluttering cunt until he’s had his fill.
When Cassian finally pulls back, Nesta is forced to release her grip on his hair, her hand falling back to the table with a soft knock. His lips and chin glisten, and he makes a big show of sliding his tongue around his mouth and gathering up the excess. Nesta watches from beneath hooded eyes, that heat in her blood still simmering.
She pulls herself up into a seated position, reaching for the laces of Cassian’s pants. She makes quick work of the knot, pushing the fabric down until it slips from his hips and falls to his feet. Just the sight of his cock bobbing free has her thighs clenching again, has her swallowing hard and licking her lips. She eyes the vein that runs along the underside, the already weeping head, remembering exactly it’ll feel when she sinks back onto it.
Her legs are shaky as she slips off the kitchen table, but she’s able to guide Cassian back until he’s falling into one of the kitchen chairs. She sinks down onto her knees between his spread legs, sliding her hands up over his knees and along his thighs. She drags her nails along the skin, through the coarse hair lining his strong thighs, before finally curling her fingers around his cock, squeezing the base.
“Now this is a sight I could get used to,” Cassian comments, his hips bucking up against her grip. “A good girl on her knees before her husband, ready to take his cock so well.”
Nesta wants to roll her eyes at the words, but there’s no stopping the way her body responds to the praise. She decides to focus on the task at hand, leaning in and licking at the arousal dribbling from Cassian’s cockhead. She moans softly at the salty taste blooming across her tongue, opening her mouth wider to swallow him down. She slides her tongue along the underside, relaxing her throat to take as much as she can and working what she can’t with her hand. The weight of him in her mouth is exactly as unparalleled as Nesta imagined, and she moans around his cock as she starts to bob her head.
Tears start to prickle Nesta’s eyes, but she doesn’t let it deter her, blinking and peering up at Cassian through her eyelashes. His gaze is already pinned on her, lips parted and expression nothing short of enraptured. His dirty mouth is silent now. Nesta almost wishes she could smirk around the way her mouth is stuffed full. She may be the one on her knees, but it’s the pack alpha rendered powerless.
It goes right to her head and right to her cunt.
She widens her stance and dips her free hand between her own thighs. Her fingers slip through the wetness, and she teases her clit briefly before sinking two fingers into her cunt. She tries to match the pace of her fingers with the movements of her mouth, curling her fingers every time she swirls her tongue over the head of Cassian’s cock.
“Gods, look at you,” Cassian’s voice draws her attention back to him. “Go on, sweetheart. Add a third finger. Get yourself nice and ready to take my knot.”
Nesta whines around Cassian’s cock, but she does as she’s told. She presses in a third finger, fucking her cunt hard and desperately. Heat coils low in her gut, her thighs beginning to tremble, and when she dares to press her thumb against her clit, Nesta has to finally pull back from Cassian’s cock. She drops her forehead to his thigh, letting out a high pitched cry as her walls clench around her own fingers, her release making a mess of her own hand.
But still she wants more.
She’s not sure how she manages it, but she pushes back up to her feet. She moves to straddle Cassian’s lap, to finally take what she wants, but she barely gets a single knee up onto the kitchen chair. Cassian’s hand snaps to her throat, fingers pressed hard against her thundering pulse. Her cunt echoes the squeeze of his fingers, clenching around nothing desperately.
“Nice try, Nes,” Cassian leers up at her, keeping his hold of her as he stands up. “But I’m still the one in control here.”
He tightens his grip around her throat briefly, Nesta’s breath catching with the squeeze, before releasing it entirely. He spins her around, her back pressed firmly to his front and her hips digging into the edge of the kitchen table. She can feel his cock still hard and waiting, and Cassian shifts his own hips so that it slips between her thighs, dragging teasingly through the mess of wetness there, along her clit.
Cassian presses his lips to her ear, hot breath skittering across her skin. “Beg for it.”
“Please. Fuck me, please.”
Cassian groans at her words, but still, he doesn’t give her what she wants. His hand slides down her stomach, down between her thighs. He sinks two fingers into her dripping cunt, spreading them and stretching her wide, but it’s not enough. It’s not nearly enough. It’s nothing compared to the real stretch she knows he can give her.
“Do you want my cock, Nes?”
“Yes,” Nesta moans, tilting her hips back to grind more firmly against his cock. “And your knot. Please.”
Cassian’s teeth snag on her earlobe. “Good girl.”
Cassian pulls his fingers free, but Nesta barely has time to whine at the loss before he’s replacing them with his cock. Already, just the stretch of him has stars popping in Nesta’s vision, her cunt fluttering and clenching down around him as though desperate to draw him deeper still, to keep him right there. She feels so incredibly full, her toes curling against the hardwood of the cabin floor.
“Two orgasms already and you’re still so tight around me,” Cassian sighs, pressing between Nesta’s shoulder blades until she’s bent in half over the table. His hands find her ass, fingers digging in against the flesh. “But Mother save me, look at the way you take me so well.”
Nesta whimpers as Cassian pulls his hips back, the slow drag of his cock, but then Cassian is snapping his hips back forward. Again and again he drives into her, setting a hard and fast pace. It’s everything that Nesta needs. Every thrust that has him pressing deeper still, every slap of his hips against her ass, has Nesta keening. She claws at the kitchen table, desperate just for something to hold onto.
As that heat starts to lick up her spine again, her body coiling tighter and tighter like a bow string, Nesta reaches a hand between her hips and the table edge, fingertips trying to catch on her clit despite the jostling. A growl sounds from behind her, fingers curling around her wrist. Cassian yanks her hand away, pressing it to the table and holding it firmly there.
“You’ll come on my knot or not at all.”
It’s a threat and a promise.
Her entire body feels wrung out, but she doesn’t want him to stop. She hopes that he doesn’t stop. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knows she should feel embarrassed at this hunger that cloys in her gut, that flares through her chest, but she can’t find it within herself to care. She wants this. Wants him. Wants his knot.
Her throat feels hoarse with how much the male behind her has made her scream, but there’s no stopping the litany of moans that tumble past her lips. Especially when she starts to feel the swell of Cassian’s knot, feels it catching against the lips of her cunt with every forward thrust.
But he only seems to keep teasing her with it.
The next time that Cassian snaps his hips, Nesta presses her own back to meet him, forcing his knot to sink into her, to properly notch and lock them together.
“Fucking shit,” Cassian groans, dropping his head to her shoulder.
His hands grip Nesta’s hips hard enough to bruise, his cock twitching and flooding her core with warmth. The stretch of his knot, the feeling of being so completely and utterly full, is indescribable, and Nesta clenches down, milking his knot and his cock with a soft moan.
“Still want to be a good little wife, Nes?” Cassian asks, grasping her jaw and pulling her head back against his chest. “Then come all over your husband’s knot.”
His free hand slips down between her thighs, pressing hard against her clit. It’s all it takes for Nesta’s third release of the afternoon to tear through her. She all but screams Cassian’s name, her body trembling through the way his knot still presses against the walls of her cunt, the way she can still feel his cock twitching and filling her deep, the way he doesn’t relent with the rough circles he traces against her clit.
When Cassian releases his hold on her, Nesta is like a marionette with her strings cut, slumping down against the kitchen table with a soft whimper. Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, tries to calm her thundering heart and come down from her high. With her cheek pressed to the table, breath puffing against the wood, Nesta allows her eyes to fall shut.
She and Cassian may never be the sort of husband and wife Nesta often dreamt of as a girl, will certainly never have the sort of love she read about in books, but at least they can have this.
—
Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata
#nessian#nesta archeron#cassian#acotar#acosf#nessian fanfiction#nessian fic#nesta x cassian#When We Howl#my fic
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New File Time!
Embrace Your Inner Submissive
Reblogs always appreciated, boys! <3 Sir thanks you. 😉
(For those who need a file like this, I think it'll land very strongly; for those who don't, it'll seem pretty out of place in my catalog. Don't worry if you fall into that latter category. There'll be something else for you to listen to soon enough!)
This one was a commission for a very Good Boy™️ who needed help embracing his submissive side. I know there are a lot more out there like him, so this goes out to anyone who needs a nudge, or permission to accept their desires.
Content warnings and file contents:
The file encourages embracing your internal submissive instincts.
The file encourages lifestyle submission (i.e, submission outside the bedroom).
The file encourages a feeling of empowerment and autonomy around your submission, including but not limited to setting strong boundaries about how you want to be treated AND how you want your needs fulfilled.
There are some allusions to hierarchy (i.e, the idea that there are "born dominants" and "born submissives"). This may be offputting if you're a switch, but it's mostly an RP-like element. I believe it won't cause problems for a switch to listen as long as they're aiming to enhance their submission.
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When I'm not trancing myself or others, I'm usually off being a mystical forest bro in the wilderness of Ireland, but I am always available for commissions if you reach out via DM. My flat rate is currently $60-100, but you can check my pinned Tumblr post for more up-to-date info. You can also support me with a one-time tribute either via Paypal or Ko-Fi. Keep listening, boys.
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I try to keep canon meaningless, because...it is.
It always was, and it always has been, way before Aqua Teen Hunger Force gave a really good shot at hammering that in. It always will be.
But I cannot fathom what goes through someone's head when they know stuff about Johnny Guilty Gear and think he's the second coming of heterosexual* Jesus.
He's anime Johnny Bravo. You really just don't stay that horny for that long without asking questions.
That guy had baggage he made the bare minimum effort to hide.
By the time Daisuke thought of him, his shit was falling out of an overstuffed sandwich bag held together by a piece of 20 year old scotch tape. When the pencil hit the paper, that tape ripped and let his stuff fly. When his character design was finalized, the sandwich bag was in a dumpster and Johnny was having a minor internal panic attack. First alpha test, the dumpster was on the way to the landfill. First beta test, it was in the furnace. By the time release hit, that bag was a pile of non-eco-friendly ashes. The best effort Johnny made to hide that dirty laundry was covering his shades, taking a piece of fuzz off of a sock, spinning until he got dizzy, tossing it towards the reddit manage "Women hate how little it takes for us gamers to be happy" floor mattress next to the tiny crt TV rigged up to an old laptop for sad one-man Melty Blood tourneys with an old wired Logitech controller missing a bunch of buttons, and he just missed by a mile, tossed out of a window into a burning trashcan, and that dude just turned around, thought to himself "Eh...good enough." and left town without ever returning looking back or thinking about it ever again.
So think what you want, nobody lives a full medieval 30 year lifespan without lying or believing some dumb shit when you know it's guaranteed to not be perfectly accurate.
If you can take comfort in that and not be a dick about it to anyone's face, cool, you're stronger than I've been a lot of times.
But it's a tumblr confession box, we know the game and we're gonna play it.
In my book, that dude is capital B, Bi. Or pan, omni, or whatever needless but respectable ways to say "Gender ain't shit, baby. If you give me explicit legal consent, my dick will be in you faster than the Flash on some Super Crack 2 that he stole from Batman's dad off-panel in Flashpoint could ever finish the phrase, 'Sure, whatever.'
He is hated by the God of Failiure because that God got nothing on this fail guy's inexplicably bad-good Rizzoli.*
You give him the legal ok to fuck, and girl/boy/enby/thing that exists, you best Just drink your Lean, cause rest assured:
He'll cum.
*I did honestly get fucked by autocorrect on "rizz", that typo was genuine but kept consciously because funny
-
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Out of all the animes you’ve watch what ones are your favorites
...you know what, you get the serious answer. I used to track my anime watching, so out of the 450+ completed ones on my list, here are some of my top recommendations! (In terms of quality, more so than what I've spent the most time dwelling on.)
. . .
One Piece — I haven't technically watched all of this one, but after falling back into the fandom after an 8-ish year break, I really can't understate the quality. One Piece's story is amazing, and I'm consistently impressed by the author's characters/worldbuilding.
Dominion Tank Police (1988) — I have FEELINGS about the villain in this one... Overall, 80s sci-fi vibes mix with themes of ethical responsibility and societal peacekeeping, and the "don't you just want to go apeshit? :)" protagonist (who's also extremely aromantic-coded) is a hilarious, yet wonderfully earnest little menace!
Kyousougiga — I've been rewatching this one recently, and the sheer detail in every scene is STUNNING. I keep having to pause to mentally scream about the symbolism, and tbh, knowing the plot from my original watch is only improving the experience.
Tekkon Kinkreet — This one's a movie, not a series, but SKLJKHS IT HAUNTS ME. Absolutely chilling, by the time the big plot twists roll around... Beyond that, the overall aesthetic/vibe is impeccable, and the exaggerated, messy art style only adds to that.
Kemonozume — Monster/human forbidden romance with stunning art and a great soundtrack. The plot started out a bit confusing, but all of the scattered story elements came together nicely in the end!
The Tatami Galaxy — The "get your shit together and start enjoying your life" anime. It's plenty good as just a story, but I got some excellent life lessons out of it too. Solid mix of comedy, drama, and charismatic-yet-extremely-bizarre characters interacting.
Monster — Excellent slow-paced, psychological horror packed with ethical dilemmas, traumatic backstories, and so many Extremely Depressed Men. In other words, there's a very good reason why Johan Liebert used to end up on so many "best anime villains" lists.
Paranoia Agent — I have nothing but praise for Satoshi Kon's work, in general, and Paranoia Agent has been my favorite of the ones I've seen so far. Compared to his movies, it really benefits from the extra space for plot development, and the big emotional twist hits hard.
Revolutionary Girl Utena — A true classic. <3 There are enough tumblr essays about this tragic yuri masterpiece that I won't go into detail myself, but yes, it's every bit as good as you've heard.
Black Lagoon: Roberta's Blood Trail — The entire Black Lagoon series is excellent, but Roberta is my special girl. Unfortunately, the OAV adaption compresses the manga's version of her arc pretty heavily (and the altered ending is kind of dumb), but I still have to recommend it. Babygirl's breakdown is a REAL mess kjshghs
Claymore — Excellent pseudo-medieval fantasy with badass female characters, lots of body horror, and top-tier monster design. The manga is MUCH better than the anime after a certain point, however.
Kuuchuu Buranko — An episodic series about an eccentric psychiatrist interacting with his troubled patients. The mixed-media animation style and bizarre characters are what sold it for me, along with the exploration of mental health through storytelling tropes.
Cannon Fodder — An artistic short movie that's twenty minutes of aesthetic experience and fascinating worldbuilding implications. I love the vibe, and the "one, long horizontal frame" style is neat.
Flowers of Evil — The art style. The VIBES. The whole thing is incredibly eerie and off-putting, with a plot that's pretty much: "congrats! two shitty teenagers are tearing each other's lives apart!".
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wip excerpt time
Poking Khalid with reminders he's a literal child in this arc is funny to me and I have to get it out of my system bc next chapter the setting-appropriate violence kicks in.
Today Tumblr I have for you 600 first draft words where Khalid is getting ready to go on an assignment with his new cabal/research team in "A Living Machine" and straight up not having a good time.
Also Cayden accidentally foreshadowed "Among the Elements" and I howled.
I want to look over everyone's shoulders at their wips so I'm tagging. Give me however much you want. If you're out of words, send giraffe pictures. Khalid likes giraffes.
@aintgonnatakethis @autism-purgatory @byronicbi @cowboybrunch
@deanwax @minamaybe @noblebs @words-after-midnight
The storage facility was independently owned, and had been, according to Thiago's information retrieval, since the early 2030s. If an actual human being still ran the establishment, their name wouldn't be available without digging deep enough to risk a Technocratic Union daemon catching them. Anything they did, they had to do with purpose, and they had to do with speed.
"We don't have time to fuck around," Luz said, tying her duo-toned hair back into a bun. "Thiago, I want you to stay with the van and make sure nobody tries to come in after us."
"No problem," said Thiago. He unwrapped a lollipop as he spoke. "You know I don't want to be out here any longer than I have to be."
"None of us do," Marisa grumbled. "These masks will filter out any particulate matter in the air but it isn't going to do anything about the radiation. If your counters start to go off, I don't want to hear any arguing."
Khalid must have had about twenty pounds of equipment on his eighty-five-pound frame. He did not complain, but his face registered the effort of remaining upright under the weight of what they asked him to carry.
"I don't need all this stuff," he said, "I have my own equipment."
"We need some of that stuff," Luz said. "And unless you have combat training I'm unaware of--"
"I have a forcefield."
They couldn't help it. At least, Luz couldn't. Luz burst into laughter that she cut back before she could get rolling. Cayden looked uncomfortable, Marisa was bored, and Khalid wasn't able to discern the expression on Thiago's face. Sat cross-legged in the back of the vehicle, its innards emptied of seats so they could fit more equipment inside, the laptop's command console reflected in Thiago's glasses. He had stopped paying attention to what was happening inside the van.
"Khalid," Marisa said, patient, because she could tell he was about ready to leave the van and complete the damned assignment himself, "honey, you need a resonance dampener. If they're able to detect recent Experimentation, you are..."
"You're practically glowing," Cayden said with a laugh. Not unkindly.
"Ah," Khalid said. Great.
Much like the others, Khalid had been quite busy this evening. Unlike the others, he had been alone when the Storyteller came to collect him. Deep in study, thinking about the future. Must have forgotten to run himself through the scrubber before he left again. He didn't leave the dormitory very often.
He remained quiet for long enough that even Luz noticed.
"What's wrong, Khalid?" she asked. "Did I hurt your feelings?"
"No," he said, frowning, "I have finals next week, and instead of studying for them, I'm out here helping you. And you're belittling me."
"Finals?" Marisa interrupted. "I thought you were working on your dissertation."
"Yes, well, I am, but the Chair of Etheric Biology offered me the opportunity to complete a second degree prior to commencement of the fall semester. As of right now, I only have the one."
"You're twelve."
"I know that."
"What could you possibly need to study? You know everything."
"No, I'm able to augment my own neurocognitive capacity with Noetic Science, which allows me to condense how much I absorb at once. All I know is that I don't know enough. I have to keep studying. That's why this is such a pain in the ass."
Swearing wasn't particularly gratifying. It only seemed to make the adults want to laugh again.
"Either way," Luz said, overtop her ex-wife, "Khalid, I am sorry that I belittled you. Alright? We'll make leaving your cave worthwhile."
He nodded, chewing on his actual response a little longer to make sure he really had it broken down.
Then he swallowed.
"Alright," he agreed. "Let's go."
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Quick FAQ on Tumblr, "Value", and the Proposed Crab Day
Motivation: I see a lot of misinformation circulating on the dash re the proposed crab day and I wanted to offer a simplified and judgement free perspective using core principles of finance.
Q: We keep being told that tumblr's been making nothing but a loss for years, and yet, if it is so unprofitable, then why is no one is shutting the website down? Is it really in need of our money if it's already owned by a multi-billion dollar corporation?
This is in fact not as much of a paradox as it appears to be because "value" in corporate finance terms is a function of present and expected future profits (adjusting for the fact that profits you expect to be earn in the near future are worth a lot more than equivalent profits expected to be earned much later in time).
This means that you can have a company or a product that is currently making a loss (i.e. costing a lot more to run than the income it generates) and it might still be worth some (or a lot of) money as long as you expect it to generate enough profits going forward. Uber for example has been making a loss for years and is still valued at billions of dollars because people think it will eventually generate a lot of profit.
Q: What does all of that mean for tumblr, specifically?
Given how unprofitable tumblr has been historically it's actually a pretty good sign that management has a plan to try and make it profitable because it means they haven't thrown in the towel yet!
But if they fail or if they decide that no matter what they do tumblr will remain unprofitable, then they wouldn't have much business incentive to keep running it. This is why participating in crab day or spending some money on tumblr in general is a good idea, if you can afford it and if tumblr is a service you would like to keep enjoying into the future. And if the answer is no to either of those questions, that's ok too--don't let anyone guilt you on this.
Even more questions-and-answers under the cut! My inbox is also open for any (good faith) questions you might have.
Q: But we all use tumblr religiously--isn't that enough?
Not quite. Tumblr's current state means that the existing userbase is not enough to make the site profitable. For that to change, either the existing userbase needs to become more profitable, or tumblr needs to get a lot more new users--or have a combination of both.
Q: Can crab day really solve all this?
Once again, not quite. A one time cash-injection is not equal to sustainable income, which is what tumblr ultimately needs. This means tumblr will still need to court potential new users and that entails some change to the design and/or the perception of the site. (I love tumblr but guys, if we are real for a second, last time I told my coworkers that, they asked me if I also had a myspace account.)
Q: So why participate then?
Because it will still help. While some change is inevitable and necessary, if we the existing users put our money where our mouth is, it would send a strong signal to management that we value the service they offer and that they should take our preferences into account in designing the site's future also. Also some cash, even if it is a one time deal,
Q: I heard people who came up with the idea are transphobic Christian fundies--do you really want to associate with people like that?
I don't. But who the blogs behind this idea, as people, are has no bearing on the merits of the idea itself.
#crab day#save this hellsite#im gonna say something i never explicitly have#and ask that you rb this if you agree with it#finance is confusing! and the more we get the message across#the better i think#for keeping tumblr around for a long time
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can you guys please take care of this afk Grian? oh boy I sure hope nothing bad happens to him
#limited life#grian#doodles#limited life smp#wip?#because tumblr posts keep circulating for a long time I'll add some context for future travelers:#the said piece is posted on 02/04/23 around 10am PST#my art
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Care for your sparring partner (Patreon)
Bonus:
#Doodles#Wander Over Yonder#Commander Peepers#Sylvia#Wander#Everyone asking Peepers questions that just skirt that line: The Series lol#Shoutout to Autumn for directing my attention this way and encouraging my brain to think about this A Lot lol#Drawing Peepers sliding around 'cause he just throws himself into everything ✨ That's it that's the whole thought lol#I haven't worn a binder for long enough to lose my breath so apologies if this isn't quite how it goes but y'know - *gestures at The Vibe*#He would overwork himself to the point of nearly passing out if it meant he could keep fighting the way he wants to pfft#Sylvia's rough and tumblr and she can be mean but even she won't kick him while he's down! Mom friend activate haha#She's grown a lot <3#Also getting a bit easier to draw her >:3c She does have a fun design :D#Her mouth is the most fun haha ♪ It really reminds me of Moomin! Cute cutout shape :3#''Why are you fighting with like five coats on'' ''Dysphoria'' ''Ah''#Notice how he covers his chest when she brings up his ''tank top'' ♪ She just goes on giving him a lecture and he's like ''Did she notice''#She didn't lol especially if that bonus is any indication#Weeks/Months/Years later and she's just like ''So that time we were fighting he was- He wasn't- :0000'' Lol#Bonus Wander brushing her comb ♪ Gotta take care of his best friend/steed! Probably just knocking the dust and dirt off haha#Their discussion would probably be silly hehe you know he'd ask and then /she'd/ ask#''Did you know??'' ''I don't make it my business to pry into other's personal matters-'' ''First of all that's not even a little bit true''#It's just all about respecting boundaries! All the way around :) Respect the sanctity of the relationship whether it's friendly or combative
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#oc#haven#rex#monochrome#contents: a little raunchy for tumblr#doodle#really high effort one but it's about the shapes more than anything else lol#meme redraw#comic#i may color this. the original plan was to color it. however i spent all my energy for coloring on drawing an aftermath coda#im fond of this one. there's a lot happening in it#haven and rex are both dressed "up'' to annoy the other's plus-one minor enemy#<- specific au element#rex is wearing a weezer shirt because haven knows that'll piss off taran. haven is dressed up like rex's best attempt at a mid-00s surfer#because he knows felyx cant fucking stand haven and is also into buff masc dudes dressed in jeans with rhinestones and thinks it'll be funn#to put felyx in the Lustful Colander#(he is right)#haven's house is not actually a cool neat influencer home or whatever there's no like open floorplan white walls light bamboo floor bullshi#going on here. it's all like green and red granite tile and shit. the man has been around for a very long time he knows what kind of decor#he's fond of. those ARE fish tanks in the walls though. and a spiral staircase#the man has been around for a very long time. he does not give a shit if what he likes is 'tacky'#also when the one speechbubble he says gets weird it is because he is using a magic power and forcing rex to put his cigarette out. rex is#naturally kind of annoyed about this. it used to make haven wince when he put his cigs out on his hands so he keeps doing it every time thi#happens but he has not yet cottoned on to the fact that haven has fully stopped wincing and now just thinks it's a normal habit he has#and has no idea that it's specifically aimed in his direction#also haven has no issue with giving head but rex isn't aware of that. they don't communicate well#and what Rex is actually aware of mostly consists of 'asking him to bottom turned into a giant argument and then a physical actual fight#and he broke my jaw in like four places over it and it was awesome but i didnt get what i wanted' and kind of gave up on the subject#he couldve been getting his d!ck sucked this whole time and he didnt know it. so sad#lineart
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sometimes i think about the armor they're a little sad
#i like that their story is just a concept but i keep thinking of the possibilities#i want to give them friends i had this concept for a character who makes/fixes armor pieces that would be a friend of the armor for a long#time already but also idk if the armor goes around telling people they're actually empty or if thats something noticeable or not... maybe#only friends or people they want ro scare the shit out of see that (help)#the armor is kind of funny to me because they went through basically all stages of grief they're chill now but at some point they were#kind of an asshole scarying people in dungeons and doing pranks and stuff (HELP) so sometimes they look back and its like#that wasnt even them because it was so long ago and they probably dont even have the pieces of armor they used to have at that time#the armor of theseus... talking so much about ocs these days its how you know i have other stuff to do but theyre haunting me#actually ive been thinking about this one other old oc story and slightly changing parts that one is the true oc story of theseus#to me because i keep changing it. but also this time im like why didnt i add this thing here... i need it...#like when you give a character a specific trait and now because of that they mean the world to you yeah 🫶#lulu.txt#thinking about ocs. blows up it feels embarrassing sometimes so tumblr post not even about the ones that are making me blow up
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As the final hour approaches, I can't help but feel that my hype is tinged with sadness. Even if the show wasn't ending tonight, even if it wasn't ending for years, I don't think I would ever feel ready. The show and the community surrounding it has provided me with so much joy over the past few years. The Owl House has reminded me of the profound impact a story can have on you. Every single one of you that I've interacted with has made me smile. I will never forget about this show and the good times it has brought me.
Thanks for sticking with me, fellow weirdos. I'll see you on the other side. I can't wait to scream about the new episode with you, even if I only get to do it one last time.
#i'm hoping to keep posting about the owl house on tumblr even after the show ends#and i'm hoping you'll stick around and continue to enjoy the owl house with me for a long time#because us weirdos have to stick together#thank you#no really. thank you#the owl house#owl house#toh#toh thoughts
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