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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months

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Surgery II

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You have a special superpower

Mami says you have a superpower that makes you different from other children. She says it's why you fidget a lot and don't always have your listening ears on or why you abandon things in the middle of doing them to go and play with Bagheera or stare at the way the washing machine spins.

She calls it add but Ingrid corrects her every time because it's not add anymore, it's add with an h somewhere in it. You're not too sure how to spell it (or how to properly say it either) but Mami and Ingrid say it's your superpower.

You think it's a superpower too because it's why Mami and Ingrid first met.

You had been sitting in the canteen, furiously wiggling in your seat because it was lunch and Mami always told you that you can't run around at lunch.

That's hard because you felt all wiggly and you loved to move. So, instead, you had chattered Irene's ear off, mindlessly bouncing from topic to topic to topic.

Your mind flickered around as you wiggled more furiously before slipping off your seat when Irene looked away so you could bolt across the room.

Mami had rules about no running in the canteen but she always let you run in the corridors so you snuck out to do that.

That's where you first met Ingrid. She was tall and athletic with long black hair and she looked exactly like a Disney Princess. Your previous thoughts of running around were abandoned and forgotten the moment you saw her, lifting your arms to beg for uppies.

She gave them to you willingly back then and she does the same now.

You'd been playing around in the gym with Patri. She'd stacked those big foam block things very high, three of them one on top of the other. You climb up it for no reason at all.

It's a big drop but you don't think it's too far. Ingrid tells you to get down now. So, you take the fastest route to the bottom.

You jump.

You're not really too sure what happens after that. All you really know is your leg hurts and Mami is screaming. You think that's a little weird because Mami doesn't really scream unless she's scared.

You're kind of disorientated, drifting in and out of awareness for the next few hours. That's never really happened to you before. Your mind works quickly, bouncing up and down and rattling around when you're still for too long.

"'S a cast, Mami," You slur when you finally come back down to earth.

You don't like it. It encloses your leg and it's a little bit itchy.

Mami's at your bedside with Ingrid. "Yeah," She says," It sure is, cub."

You frown at it, wiggling your toes to make sure you still have them. "Do I not have a knee anymore? Like you?"

It's not completely true anymore. Mami's knee has nearly fully grown back now but it's still not finished yet. You wonder if your knee is gone now too.

"No, cub," Mami says," It's for your leg. You broke your bone jumping off the tower."

You think for a moment. You've never had a broken bone before even when you climbed to the very top of the slide at the park and jumped off.

You stare at the cast for a moment and then promptly burst into tears.

"Oh, cub," Ingrid coos. She picks you up as you make grabby hands because Mami is still technically injured and can't carry you. "It's okay."

You don't like the feeling on your leg and you whine. "Itchy!" You complain," Itchy!"

Mami and Ingrid exchange a look which you know means that you'll just have to live with it for the time being.

"Don't like it!" You insist.

"You can like it later," Mami says," Because you can get the girls to sign it and we'll draw some pictures on it. Won't that be fun?"

You nod pathetically, wiping your nose on Ingrid's shirt.

You never end up liking the cast.

Ingrid says that one of your special superpowers because of your add with an h somewhere is you get filled with the magic wiggles. Usually, that means you run around and laugh and scream with your toys. You still get filled with the magic wiggles but you can't run around so you kind of fidget in your seat and then cry.

That seems to get your wiggles out when you're done but it's not fun and it makes you very sad.

Mami and Ingrid don't like it either so when you get the magic wiggles Mami tries to get you to draw. She says it'll help and also make sure you don't injure your leg more by running around. You don't think she knows what she's talking about because you're the only one in the apartment that has the magic wiggles.

But you have them right now so Mami sets you up with a pencil and some paper and says to draw to get your wiggles out. You fidget in your seat as you doodle.

You're doing a lion cub because that's what you are.

Ingrid's the first person to call you lion cub, all the way back when she first picked you up in the hallway outside of the canteen.

She'd looked at your messy, wild hair and compared it to a lion's mane. She'd looked exactly like a Disney Princess at the time and you knew that Disney Princesses had animal friends so she knew what she was talking about. You'd listened to her talk about lions and their cubs all the way back into the canteen and then proudly pointed at Mami and said that she was your lion and you were her cub.

You've got a lion cub toy though. You can spy it in your play corner and you turn your head to look at it. You get up and stroke your hand over the fur before you dig in your plushie pile for your regular cat. It's black like Bagheera.

Bagheera's in the cat tree on the other side of the room so you drop the toy on the way over to say hi. She mews softly at you in greeting and then purrs. It's a little rumble in her chest that makes you giggle and finally notice the hum of the washing machine.

It vibrates the floor a little and you move towards it. You like watching it spin. It's fun.

You sit in front of it. Because of your cast, you can't sit criss-cross apple-sauce but you try to, leaving your injured leg sticking out straight because that's what Mami does when she needs to focus on regrowing her knee.

You should focus on regrowing on your leg but everything else is so interesting so it'll have to learn to do it all by itself like how it learnt to walk all by itself too.

You wiggle around as you watch the machine spin and spin and spin. giggling when you see some soapy water slam against the window panel.

"Oh, cub," Ingrid laughs, bending down to pick you up," Come on. You can't keep watching the washing machine."

"Why?"

Mami laughs too as you and Ingrid join her on the sofa. You stick your leg out like hers is and reach out to play with her hands because now your hands are all wiggly too. "I don't know how that thing keeps her entertained. All it does is spin."

"Is fun," You say with a little shrug. Most of your magic wiggles are gone and the ones left are in your hands but Mami is helping get rid of them.

You're sitting on Ingrid's lap, nice and warm against her. Ingrid helps a lot with your superpower. Her gentle hands scratch out your scalp as soon as your magic wiggles are gone and you go limp against her.

When she moves her hands away though, you get a bit annoyed and drag them back to where you want them.

"Sorry, cub," She laughs," Should I keep them there?"

You nod, shaking out your hair so it's like a mane again. "Feels nice."

"You heard her," Mami says," Get to it. It feels nice."

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

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Can we please have more dad George I miss him soo much like literally anything 🥺😭

Note: I'm working on a big piece for him, but in the mean time, here's a blurb!

Cw: reader's pregnant

"Mummy called me and said she was going to take a little bit longer today, so how about we cook for her?", George suggested once he got off the phone, "sure, daddy!", Arthur said, "I'm going to get Olivia to join us!", he said excitedly, running up to his sister's room to tell her the plans.

George laid out all of the ingredients they needed for the recipe and helped the kids put on their aprons, "daddy, whenever I cook with mummy she always tells us what to do. Do you know what to do?", Olivia wondered, looking up at him as she moved the bowls around, "of course I do, darling! Me and Arthur have cooked a couple of times before, haven't we buddy?", he asked your son, earning his nod. Since you liked to cook, it wasn't one of the chores around the house you and George shared, opting to share others instead.

"Can you keep stirring, Liv?", he asked your daughter, "me and Arthur will get started on measuring the milk and cracking the eggs - careful, buddy", he said as Arthur grabbed the milk carton.

"Daddy?", Olivia called, "this is getting yellow, like, golden? I think that's what mummy calls it", she said as George took a peak at the pot, "okay, it's ready for the rice", he mentioned, Arthur helping out his sister in adding the grains, "Good job, guys!", George complimented, kissing the top of their heads as he wiped his hands on the towell.

"Mummy told me yesterday that she really wanted to have this pie", Arthur mumbled as he looked at it cooking in the oven, making sure it would be just like how you liked it.

"It's why we are making it, right? She told daddy she has been craving it for a few days, I heard her", Olivia nudged as George grabbed the plates and cutlery to take to the table, "yes! Mummy has been waiting to make this for a bit, but she hasn't had the time - and we all know how much she hates asking got help - so I decided we were going to surprise her", George explained, nodding his head to the dining room so they could help him with the table.

"I did help her yesterday!", Arthur chirped in, "she wanted to pick something off the floor, but her baby bump - she couldn't do it, she was like those jelly pots we have for snacks, all wiggly trying to do it- so I helped her", he exemplified as George tried his best not ot laugh at the creative, yet accurate, description. "You did well, buddy. She will hardly ask for help, but it's always good to help her whenever you can", George noted.

When you finally got home, you left your shoes by the door just in time for Olivia to come give you a hug, "Hi, mummy! How was your day? Daddy and Arthur are in the dining room with Winston and Maya", she said as she pulled your hand, mindful that you were walking a little bit slower than usual.

"Mummy!", Arthur yelled as he hugged your legs, pressing his lips to your clothed bump, "how is the baby?", he asked, "he's good, been kicking a lot today actually", you smiled, kissing your son's cheek and then his sister's before moving up to your husband, "is my nose deceiving me or have you made my craving?", you moaned in his ear, "you've been busy, and me and the kids wanted to treat you", he smiled, kissing your lips before getting everyone to sit at the table, Maya and Winston sitting by your feet.

"I was a bit doubtful at first, but this is good, daddy!", Olivia complimented, "thanks? I guess", your husband chuckled as he served himself some of the salad, "I think we make a great team, not as good as mummy, but pretty close", Arthur added as he ate a fork full of the meal.

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

#george russell blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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mamayan · 6 months

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“…The fuck is that…”

It smelled like iron and rain tonight, the floor of the bar wet and muddy from footprints tracked in carelessly. The wood was already old and rotting, and it was wonder a hole hadn’t been broken into the mildewed boards.

“It’s a dog.”

He sneered, face turning fully where his eyes bore into you, completely away from his switch to level you with the nastiest face he could pull.

“I know what a fucking dog is, asshole. I’m asking why the fuck it’s in here—?”

“Watch your crusty mouth, boss, I wasn’t going to just leave it to die out in the storm. Some piece of shit left this poor little guy in a box by the dumpster.” He wanted to vomit at the almost motherly look on your face, staring at the filthy shaking wet puppy you held with your jacket bundled around it.

“Find somewhere else to put it, it’s not staying here.” He turned away dismissively despite his eyes still staying glued to the bundle in your arms.

“Yeah, yeah, can he just stay here for the night? Even I don’t got a place to sleep besides the streets, but he might get sick if he’s stays in the cold any longer.”

He grit his teeth in agitation.

“If it pisses in here I’m dusting it.”

He left it at that, even going as far as to get up and leave the bar. You were left alone after that, the League out for now due to the horrendous monsoons sweeping the city tonight. You weren’t fortunate enough to have a place to crash though, but you did debate just breaking into an abandoned house or something. The bar was closer though, and the little guy needed a warm bath and some food, which you couldn’t provide in a place without running water.

You washed the small puppy in the sink, soft brown fur spiked up cutely as you scrubbed away all the gunk and sadness covering the flea bitten thing. You carefully dug out each one, ridding him of all the awful vermin before giving him one more lather and rinse for good measure. Then you dried him, a stolen hair dryer kept on low and held far away, a soft dish rag you’d scrounged up used to pet and sooth while he shook.

“I know the boss scared you a bit, but he’s not gonna hurt you,” you cooed, holding the pup as you found a can of tuna and decided it would have to do as puppy chow for the evening. The little dog seemed to have enough teeth, and you made sure to stir it up some after opening the can.

He fell face first into the can eating. Hind legs even going up into the air as he balanced on his front paws eating. When his belly looked sufficiently round, you pulled the pup off and gave him a little water. He looked like a new dog honestly, much fluffier and more adorable like this.

“You need a name…” you hummed, picking the pup up and deciding to bother the boss a little. He didn’t seem happy about the dog, but you noticed he kept looking at it with some sort of longing. Did he want to pet it? You weren’t sure as you moved through the hide out, seeing Shigaraki’s room at the end of the hall. His door was tightly closed but decorum hardly mattered with thugs and villains like you. You kicked the door open, smiling at the near vampiric way your boss seemed to live in the artificially blue illuminated space. His pale skin looking almost gray in the lighting.

“Gross. Your room is fuckin’ nasty boss.” Your comment is met with a vicious glare, his lips pulled almost into a snarl as he eyes you with disdain, but his gaze wavers a bit on the fluff in your arms.

“Why’s it all squirmy?” He scowls, leaning back a bit in his gamer chair, clearly knowing you’re too annoying to scare off.

“He needs a name. Help me?”

“No. Fuck off.”

“Come on boss! He can be our mascot!”

“No way in hell. I’ll dust it if you try.”

“Woof!” You both looked down at the happy and merry little pup wiggling to get down in excitement. You smiled mischievously, eyes narrowing in a way that made him nervous.

“Don’t you dare—!” He grunts in surprise as you release the hound, the happy pup immediately scampering towards Shigaraki with a wiggly butt swinging so hard it caught up with its little tail. It’s quick to scratch at his jeans, big eyes staring up at him with so much cuteness he swears under his breath.

“Get. The. Damn. Dog. Off. Me—!” He’s seething through his teeth, furious for the interruption and the little fur ball’s audacity.

“Mhm, Dog as a name is a little unoriginal don’t you think boss?” He’s going to kill you. Dust your ass and this dog too!

“Woof!” He flinches back, hands instinctively raising high to prevent the nippy little thing from accidentally touching them as it jumped for attention.

“He loves you though!” You coo, pulling your phone out even and snapping pictures.

“If you don’t—,”

“Here, let me help,” you sooth, and just when he thinks you’re going to be sensible and remove the mutt, instead you pick it up and place it in his lap.

“…!” He’s only able to inhale sharply, face stunned and incredulous as the pup licks and kisses at him with all the affection of a loyalist.

His eyes go up for help again, but you’re gone. Having even slipped out and closed his door without him noticing.

His quirk canceling gloves are in place, so he knows he can just pick it up and set it off him, but for several minutes Shigaraki does nothing but allow the tiny monster to kiss and nibble at him for attention until it grows tired and settles down in his lap for a nap.

Wide garnet eyes stare down at the dog you’d left in his lap carelessly. Tiny and absolutely no threat to anyone. Mascot you wanted it to be, but if they had even the smallest attack it would be injured and killed. His nails dug into the skin of his neck, furiously scratching as his mind blanks.

He only stops when a little lick catches him off guard.

Dark brown eyes stare up at him, innocent and feeble with a long snout and wet nose twitching. It licked his hand.

He’s not thinking when he uses to fingers to pet the dog’s soft little head. It lets him, mouth opening to reveal a long pink tongue and it pants in happiness for the attention.

“Should name you idiot or something, dumb dog.” He huffs, but he doesn’t stop the pets. Even scratching lightly behind the ear as the pup leans into it with a shake of it’s leg. “You get off on strangers touching you or something? Freak.” His insults roll off seamlessly, the pup still happily lolling it’s tongue and rolling in his lap.

Seconds turn to minutes as he relaxes, petting the sweet little animal happily curled in his lap and sleeping.

You find your boss and the pup hours later, both passed out in his gaming chair, one hand laid over it’s back gently.

You take the pup, leaving to put it in the little cage you managed to find and the blankets you cut up to place in with it. The pup wasn’t happy but you hushed it with a few treats and left after putting a blanket on top of the cage to help it sleep.

When you went back to check on the boss, he was awake, elbows leaned on his knees as he looks up at you under his bangs.

“It’s name is Ryo and it will stay in Doc’s care. Not here. Am I clear?”

You smile, almost too sweetly it makes his chest feel like ants are crawling through it, as you nod wordlessly. He hates the smug appearance you wear but only snorts and kicks you out of his room, this time locking his door.

Dividers/@cafekitsune

#kill me please #I’m going to light myself on fire now #SFW #mha #bnha #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura hc #shigaraki mha #light Drabble

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villainbait · 3 months

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Sins of the Shrine - Chapter Two

Pairing: Heian!Sukuna x Reader

Rating: R

Word count: 2k

AO3 LINK

Chapter Warnings: heian period brutality, light body horror, thriller, curses do exist, sexual themes, eventually, torture, threats, graphic depictions of blood, ryomen sukuna is his own warning, pre-transformation sukuna, potential manga spoilers

Summary:

The other miko had whispered of a shrine that separated the clearing of your own but you had forgotten their warning. It was very important, but you had forgotten it. A hushed warning about a demon that dwelled there, his cursed energy so thick it could choke you to death just by being in his presence- that's if you survived long enough for that to be your fate. Whether you come as a lover or an executioner, I am ready to receive you. -Agustin Gomez-Arcos

prologue ↠ i. ↠ ii.

You imagine most people’s first question upon meeting a deity are usually things like, ‘Are you here to kill me?’ or ‘Please, will you save my dying family?’ but you find yourself burning with a different question entirely. “Why are you wearing a woman’s kimono?”

However, a question like that would certainly get you killed, so you of course do not ask it of the great Ryomen Sukuna, strongest jujutsu sorcerer of the realm and rumored deity. Oh, but you want to and you bite your tongue hard to refrain from asking something that could offend him. Yet despite the obviously gendered garb, it didn’t look ridiculous on him as it would many other men. He still cut an imposing figure despite the clash of styles, and he stood with one arm tucked into the slit of it to rest casually.

Instead, you stupidly blurt out a paltry excuse for a greeting that would have your extremely decorous father in absolute shambles had he heard it.

“Oh, uhm, wow.”

Sukuna continues to hover over you and you just simply do not move to greet him in any appropriate fashion, resigned to whatever fate he decides to bestow upon you. You weren’t even sure you could move when your legs still felt like those strange wiggly meat jellies you sometimes saw your father eating at the dinner table. When you don’t elaborate, his eyes narrow and it’s on the bleeding tip of your tongue to apologize when he chases away the silence with his question.

“Do I scare you?” His manner of speech is a confusing mixture of rough and refined, his tone that of the aristocracy but the harsh words of a commoner. You take his question with every ounce of seriousness your body possesses though and take the time granted to you to study him. He certainly looks vaguely monstrous, his double set of eyes a ruby red so violent it makes you shiver. Yet, his unique carnation pink hair softens the harshness of his appearance and the beautiful markings on his face make your fingers ache to trace the unique pattern, wondering what the texture of ink on his skin would feel like. You’d never seen tattoos before though you had heard in the many years of eavesdropping on your servants that criminals and other unsavory types were branded similarly for all to see. Was his a mark of his misdeeds or something more symbolic?

More of them peeked out from where his kimono had partially fallen open and it makes you want to know where else he had them. The thought was far too inappropriate and you flushed, hoping he wasn’t really a god and couldn’t read your impure thoughts. Your eyes dart back to his own and you realize he’s still waiting for your answer.

What a patient god he was.

“You’re beautiful, actually.” Your genuinely awestruck reply doesn’t answer his question at all and you realize what you’ve said too late. Oh, that mouth of yours is going to get you killed absolutely for sure and you brace yourself for the mortal blow that never comes. In your cowardice, you had closed your eyes tightly against this particular death, unwilling to watch your guts be splattered across the lawn along with the disgusting curse next to you. After a moment, the realization sinks in that you were still alive and you risk a peek at the enigmatic sorcerer. It’s astonishing to you to find Sukuna looking positively stunned by your words and you wonder if no one had ever called him beautiful before. It would not occur to you until much later that it wasn’t that no one had ever commented upon this vision of a man, it’s that they never lived long enough after seeing it.

He breaks your gaze first as the loud crack of a bone between teeth punctuates the otherwise quiet evening. Your gaze is drawn to see what he was staring at and find your dogs have made an absolute mess of the perfectly manicured temple lawn. The silence eats away at you the longer it hangs between the two of you and you realize you have grown accustomed to the general nattering of your shrine mates over the past moon cycle. A question suddenly tumbles tentatively from your lips if for no other reason than to confirm that you were, in fact, staring death in the face; his form a beautifully frightening man.

“I’m not mistaken to believe you’re Ryomen Sukuna, am I?” You ask faintly and his lips quirk up into a smirk in response while he continues to watch the dogs with idle interest. Your question granted you another few moments to live, but that’s if your heart didn’t give out first with how frantically it rattled around in your chest. It threatened to stop entirely when he replied, “So you do know who I am, and yet you don’t greet me properly.”

Fair point.

You thought about making the excuse of how your legs still felt too wobbly to move, but you had an inkling any excuse at all would be grounds for your immediate departure from life.

“I’ve never met a god before so I’m not sure how one greets such a being.” “Maybe you should try.” His voice lowered and his cursed energy sparks along your exposed skin like a threat. You scramble to your knees to bow low in the mockery of a formal greeting, relieved you didn’t fall face first into the grass and embarrass yourself further. The slight rustling of cloth has you lifting your head to find Sukuna crouching in front of you and you realize how close he is. He cups your chin between two clawed fingers and pulls your face inches from his to scrutinize you with an unreadable expression, his thumb nail pricking the soft flesh of your cheek. You fight the urge to jerk away from his grip, but being this close to him is agony. The desire to touch the markings on his face is unbearable but so is the smothering weight of his cursed energy.

It makes you squirm and you want to tell him to stop but he has commanded you to do something for him. You don’t deny a demand from Ryomen Sukuna and live. Instead, you couldn’t take it anymore and you push back at his energy with your own until it doesn’t feel as biting; but not so much as to be perceived as a threat. His eyes widen imperceptibly at your resistance and you notice it this close to him, wondering just what it was you had done for him to look at you like that. It was on the tip of your tongue to ask when the loud, sickening sound of the dogs eating made it impossible for you to be courteous and you sigh heavily, abandoning the futile attempt at any courtly civility. Both of you glance to the side simultaneously at the noise and you can’t help but wince at the gruesome sight.

“I’m sorry for that. They have terrible table manners.” You spoke in a low tone and he waves you off nonchalantly with his free hand.

“I’ve made worse messes here.” He mistakes your stricken expression for continued worry and offers a type of platitude he normally reserves for Uraume alone. “The rains will take care of it, it’s whatever.”

Sukuna realizes he is still holding your face hostage and releases you abruptly. You bounce to your feet quickly, stuttering back a few steps to catch your breath and put some distance between the two of you; for what good that would do. One way or another you were certain Ryomen Sukuna was going to be the death of you.

“...Oh.” You stand there awkwardly and unsure of what’s going to happen next, your gaze alternating between staring at Sukuna and the sky. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay and you don’t take it personally because why would this great sorcerer be concerned over the well-being of one little mortal. Both of you soundlessly watch the demon dogs in silence eat the rest of the curse before trotting back over. His crimson eyes follow the dogs closely as they melt into your faint shadow cast by the moonlight and only turns that gaze back to you when they’ve disappeared completely.

“What’s your cursed technique?” He asks and you can tell he’s curious. You only wish you had more to say to satiate it.

“You know, I don't really understand it. The dogs just came to me one day when I was a child and decided they wished to live in my shadow.” You look over to find his attention on you and you shrug nonchalantly. “So I let them.”

Interesting. Your voice reminds Sukuna of Uraume and it doesn’t annoy him, though you talk a little too much for his taste. It unnerves him that he's not annoyed, but he allows his curiosity free reign.

“Are you from the shrine nearby? Did you get lost?”

“...How did you know?”

The narrowing of his eyes as they sweep down your body make you follow his line of sight and you laugh weakly. “Right, how silly of me. Yes, I recently came here after receiving formal training, but it’s not like I had much of a choice.” You sigh in quiet resignation, staring at the sky as a particularly bright star distracts you. You were growing more comfortable in his suffocating presence by the minute. “I don’t like it there.”

“Stay here if you want then, I don’t care.” He paused and you noticed a suddenly strange expression on his face before he schooled it. Clearly done with the conversation, he suddenly turns to leave and his parting words float over his shoulder. “You can find your way back on your own, can’t you?”

You nod quickly and turn to head back through the torii in which you arrived but pause as you remember the etiquette that at times had been quite literally beaten into you, swiveling in a rush of cloth. The untimely arrival of Uraume was unfortunate as your voice cracks loudly in the darkness and the white-haired attendant’s eyes widen with shock at the utterly disrespectful display towards their master.

“Sukuna!”

He half-turns to look at you and for the second time that night he is struck momentarily speechless, this time by how lovely you look caressed by the gentle illumination of the waning moonlight. The soft, trusting smile you offered to him was so devastating that he almost missed your simple but heartfelt words.

“Thank you!”

Your graceful bow was the result of an art perfected, but you straightened and turned to find a white-haired gender cryptid frowning at you with a basket full of plants in their arms. It surprises you and recognition flares as you remember them being in the forest earlier when you were being chased and how they hadn’t bothered to help you. The two of you stare at one another for a moment longer before you scamper past them and make your way back to the shrine to gather your things.

Uraume traipses after Sukuna and it was burning into their mind to ask, but as they open their mouth the sorcerer cuts them off.

“Don’t ask.”

“Forgive my impertinence, but is it wise?” Uraume asks anyway and risks the ire of their master, though the rest of their sentence remains unsaid. However, the implication was clear that Sukuna’s attendant didn’t approve.

He grunted in response as they made their way inside the temple, too caught up in his own thoughts of the peculiar human that was you to bother answering Uraume. Sukuna didn’t usually question himself but for once, he wasn’t sure what the hell he had done that for either.

Stay here if you want then, I don’t care. The words had come out of his mouth and Sukuna wondered for a moment if he had been possessed by something other than his own cursed life to offer this slip of a girl a place in his home. Granted, he did find her cursed technique interesting, but interesting enough to give her permission to stay?

Well, he could always get rid of her if she became too much of a nuisance.

A/N: Thank you for reading chapter two. I hope you enjoyed Sukuna's appearance finally and I'm sorry it took so long but I wanted to properly set the story up. Please look forward to more. ♥

prologue ↠ i. ↠ ii.

#jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #my writing #fanfiction #sukuna ryomen x reader #heian!sukuna #heian!sukuna x reader

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teaboot · 2 years

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I don't remember a lot, but from what memories I do have, the world as a baby or a toddler is a fucking nightmare.

NOTHING is designed for you.

Stair steps if you can't walk are a one-way nightmare. Crawling up? Sure. Crawling down? Well, you can go head first and fall, which is terrifying, or you can slowly scoot backwards and feel for the next step with your feet, which feels pretty much exactly like an adult going down an unfamiliar staircase in the pitch black dark.

Stair steps if you CAN walk are damn near knee height and you have to haul your entire body through steep lunges and squats to get up or down.

Food time? Someone plops your ass in a chair and puts a plate of food on a table at your neck level, hands you a wiggly flat stick and tells you to eat, but don't make a mess. You can't move the plate and you can't stand up or use your hands, even though those are straight up the most accessible and intuitive options. Fuckin' A, thanks.

And car seats, FUCK, the ones with the weird lap bar? One buckle goes between your legs and it's an eternal wedgie. You need to stretch or you get a cramp? Fuck that, you sit in one position for however long it takes. Better not drop your shit with your fumbly bastard hands because you're not getting it back, and then it's just you and the Padded Sensory Deprivation Restraint for all eternity.

And gods above, Christ, TALKING. Even if by some miracle you know EXACTLY the words you want, your tongue is like a lump of meat in your mouth. You KNOW what you want it to do, but it rolls when you don't want it to and you have to focus so much attention if you need to make it perfect.

And you WILL have to make it perfect, because some fucking adult who you know DAMN WELL doesn't consider you a real, thinking human person will ABSOLUTELY ask, "Did you mean this?" Or, "It's pronounced like this", or, HEAVEN ABOVE, "That's a big word!"

Like YEah Bitch, It's a HUGE word, who gives a shit? How does the length of a word matter more than the meaning I was trying to communicate? Can we not get sidetracked, here? Were you actually listening?

Shit. Fuck. And every random stranger and their dog grinning and staring and waving at you like they expect you to do a trick? Getting WAY too familiar? Some people are fine, but others had just the worst vibes. Skin-crawly. Ugh.

Jesus, I haven't thought about it this long in forever. Saccharine, bubbly children's media that literally spells shit out like you've never heard of anything before? Condescending grownups who coo every time you try to communicate?

Fine motor skills. Jesus, does nobody else remember picturing something perfectly in your head, knowing precisely what you wanted to do and how to do it, just for your stupid half-yours, half-not hands or feet or fingers betray you completely? The FRUSTRATION?

Your brain doesn't work, your body doesn't work, you get fevers and chills and aches and your teeth get sore and fall out, everything is too big and you have no freedom over your own body or life.

You're aware of so many of your own limitations, but at the same time there are things that you don't know exist that you're also limited in, and all the while everyone expects you to keep up and not question it.

Everyone is in such a hurry to speed up through the things you want to linger in, and is so painfully slow when you're ready to move on.

And all the while, this vague, faceless shadow lingers over you: That you will someday be Different, Not Yourself Anymore, but One Of Them, and this someday-you will Finally Understand everything you don't, and everything good and wonderful that you really, truly do enjoy will be gone, just like it's gone to Them.

And all you can do is promise yourself that you'll remember. That you'll fight this inevitable transformation into The Other.

You promise yourself that you will hold onto who you are and bury it deep, and that maybe if you're strong enough you won't fade away like they did.

You might succeed. You might save yourself.

But you will come out on the other side changed nonetheless, and you may find yourself feeling very alone in this new world.

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sawturn77 · 4 months

Text

𝑶𝑪𝑬𝑨𝑵 𝑬𝒀𝑬𝑺 (𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

02: somebody I used to know.

MASTERLIST.

january 1st, 2018.

----

suguru saved me from the awkward silence and wiggly eyebrows from satoru. "y/n! come help me set up the table, please!" "coming!" i bolted out of there. phew, at least im free from embarrassment now. . once i got in the kitchen, yuji and nobara were arguing about who was going to eat the most food. suguru handed me the utensils that went on the table. i realized hadn't talked to him since i got home. he gently patted my head instead of ruffling my hair like satoru. "how was your visit to the ice rink?" he asked, gently smiling at me. "It was good, until i hit my head and fell on my butt." suguru chuckled at my defeated tone. i started to set the table, placing the chopsticks, spoons, etc in front of every seat. i watch as yuji and nobara approach him, talking to him comfortably. i didnt know they were friends with megumi. he seems like the closed off type, especially now.

----

soon, shoko arrives and everyone eats. i have to admit, my brother sure can cook. im starting to think hes like satoru's malewife..anyways, after everyone finished eating, we had a drawing, and whoever drew the short stick had to wash dishes while everyone else got to play uno. God was NOT favoring me today. there were two short sticks, and guess who got them! me and megumi. FREAKING MEGUMI. you know what? it cant get more awkward than this.... right?

wrong.

here, we stood right beside each other, shoulder touching shoulder, leg touching leg. i wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear. the worst part was, he wasn’t even bothered by it! he didn’t even acknowledge it! surely, if i was him, i’d at least be stealing glances! oh, well, maybe he isnt that kind of guy. he was never interested in stuff like that. the two of us stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes. the entire time, i was wondering how to start a conversation and barely got anything done! megumi had done most of it. now he probably thinks im useless! he’ll never associate himself with someone so unhelpful. “so,” i started, lips trembling. he glances at me. how come his eyelashes are so long? does he use mascara? “how..how have you b-been lately?” i wanted to curse myself. who the hell stutters nowadays!? “alright. what about you?” i could feel my shoulders tensing. i had heard his voice earlier, but now, im really paying attention to it. just thinking about it makes my stomach do axles. “good, actually.” i smiled, desperate to keep myself from squealing. minutes past, he hasnt said anything after that. okay, you dont wanna talk to me, cool. fine. whatever. (squealing) part of me wanted yuji and nobara to come in and start being annoying to break the ice. hell, maybe even satoru would do. after what seemed like decades, we finally finished washing the dishes. i sighed in relief, but i couldnt have a moment of grace before my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. i felt a napkin on my cheek, wiping soap off my face. “sorry,” he muttered. kill. me. please. “you had soap on your face.” i laughed awkwardly while he just looked at me, “really? i-uhm, i didn’t know! thanks.” what the hell, y/n?? what is your problem??

yuji and nobara ran towards me and megumi, bombarding us with a fury of words i didnt understand. something along the lines of, “guess what?? i won against mr. gojo!” “no, kugisaki cheated!” “the hell? i didnt cheat! all of you just suck!” “cheater cheater, pumpkin eater!” “grow up!” megumi frowned at their antics. “idiots” he muttered.

an: hey guys sorry for the short chapter😔i kinda rushed bc i have to gts early bc i have school tmrw. but i will be posting tomorrow or the day after that! it normally takes me two days (4 hours total) to write this much anyway

TAGLIST: @fillmeup6969 @morgyyyyy @kasumitenbaz (OPEN)

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nobara kugisaki #yuji itadori #fushiguro x reader

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thelampisaflashlight · 8 months

Text

Mixed Messages Pt. 2

[Goddammit, Aeon. This is a shorter entry. Not suitable for younger audiences. Previous part here.] Below the cut.

Once more, Dew is wondering how.

How did he wind up in this situation?

They'd gotten home from shopping an hour ago, and Rain had once again suggested that they sit down and watch a movie together, but this time, they actually did manage to get through the film without it leading to the bedroom.

Instead, Swiss has him laying against his chest, confused, but comfortable, as his feet rest in Rain's lap.

It's unbelievably cozy, but there's a strange...

Wiggly... squirmy feeling in his belly that makes him want to leap from their embrace and hide again.

Just like he'd done a week prior.

Except this time, Rain has a hold on his ankle, lax, but there, and Swiss has once more wrapped his arms around his waist, his chin resting atop his head like they know.

Like they know if they don't hold him there in some capacity, he will run.

And he's ashamed to admit that they're right.

Dew will try and escape if they let go, because everything in his body is screaming that this is a trap.

He's safe, he knows that, but his brain won't let him relax, and once the end credits begin to roll, Dew is unbelievably restless, fidgeting and trying to wriggle free despite the fact that he knows if he just asked Swiss to let him go, he would.

There's just this natural urge inside of him to fight against this.

Against being held.

Being restrained.

"What's wrong?" Rain asks as Dew's feet begin to kick at his legs, eyes wide, "Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay, Dew-"

"I don't know..." Dew manages, "I don't know, I just-"

Swiss presses a kiss to the side of his head, "Take a breath."

Dew lays his hands over Swiss' arms and tries to breathe.

"You're okay." Rain assures him, moving his feet back into his lap, "What's happening, hm?"

"I'm too relaxed..." Dew whines, and, honestly, that's kind of the opposite of what either of them had expected him to say, "Something's gotta be wrong."

"Why's that?" Swiss asks, "Why's anything got to be wrong?"

Dew mumbles the other two can't quite make out.

"What was that?" Rain tilts his head, "Can you repeat what you just said?"

"...Because I feel good and I don't like that, because it means something is going to happen and ruin it..." Dew whispers, "...I want to enjoy this, but it's freaking me out."

Swiss nuzzles the side of Dew's neck and hums, "Here."

He flips his hand so his palm is up.

"What?" Dew blinks.

"Give me your worries, I'll hold onto them."

Dew can't stop himself from laughing at that, a real spit take of a laugh at that.

"That's so corny..." he giggles, and Swiss chuffs beneath him.

"Maybe, but, why not give it a try? Rainy gives me all his worries like this, and you know what I do with them?" he wiggles his fingers, "Can you guess?"

"No, but it's probably equally as corny."

"Oh, trust me, it is." Rain snorts, "But it's worth it."

Dew considers this for a moment and then places his hand on top of Swiss', "Okay, what happens now?"

"Mm~ You tell me what you're worried about, and if you can't for any reason, you can just tell me how many things you're worried about, or if you're just worried in general."

"What I'm worried about..." Dew thinks back on their time together, about tour coming up, about Aeon and Aurora still trying to adjust to life on the surface, about Aether being so far away, about Sunny breaking off on her own... "Five things, I guess..."

"Hm, then you get ten." Swiss announces.

"Ten what?" Dew asks dubiously, "Ten what, Swiss?"

Swiss kisses his cheek, "That's one."

Oh.

Rain leans over and presses a kiss to his forehead, "Two-"

Dew chirrups.

"Three-" Swiss combs his fingers through his hair to move it out of the way and gives his neck a little lick before pressing a kiss there.

"Four-"

Dew feels Rain's lips brush his cheek and whines.

"Five-"

Swiss presses another kiss to his neck, biting the same spot he'd licked earlier.

"Six-"

Rain grabs Dew's chin and pulls him forward, capturing his lips in a long, sinful kiss, "Oh."

"O-Oh?" Dew stutters out.

"I think I've lost count..." Rain pouts, "I guess we'll have to start over."

Swiss purrs beneath him, "You're okay with that, right, Dew?"

Dew flusters, "Hh... Y-Yeah..."

"How about you keep count this time?" Rain suggests, moving to straddle his hips, hands coming down to ruck up the hem of his borrowed shirt, "I'll start here."

Swiss snorts.

"Why not lower?"

"I'll work my way down."

Dew covers his face with his hands as Rain presses a kiss to the area just below his belly button.

"Dew?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"You have to count, or else that one didn't count and I'll have to do it again~"

Rain would like to say that things from that night on were smooth sailing for the three of them, that Dew's anxieties continued to be kept at bay by kisses and cuddles, but, alas, right when things were starting to get good, tour started.

And while Rain could get away with cuddling Swiss on the bus, Dew has once again become squirrely, or as squirrely as one can be when confined to what is essentially a hotel on wheels.

He gets it, really, Dew has never been one to really show affection in public, and while the other ghouls aren't exactly strangers, Rain can see how they might fall into that category given Dew's proclivity towards privacy.

In other words, until they can swing a night in a hotel room together, the chances of Rain and/or Swiss getting any real alone time with Dew are slim to none, and even if they invite him, there's still a chance that he might say no.

And if he says n-

"I need you to fuck me now or I'm going to scream."

Rain blinks and looks down at Dew, who is currently bullying him into the bus's tiny bathroom.

"Huh?"

Dew slides the door shut.

"I keep thinking and I need to not think." Dew says, unbuttoning Rain's fly, "Ergo, gimme your dick-"

"Not that I'm complaining, but, like, you want to talk about what's on your mind or-OH." Rain groans as soon as Dew shoves his hand in his pants, "Okay, okay, okay..."

For a blissful minute, Rain revels in the feeling of Dew's hand on him...

...before they are horribly interrupted by Aeon knocking on the door, sounding on the verge tears as he cries, "I really, really, really have to pee, please hurry up~!"

Dew twists around and cracks the door open, and in that split second between Dew opening the door and Aeon's pained face appearing in his field of view, Rain managed to halfway tuck himself back into his underwear...

"...Why are you both in the bathroom??"

"Rain had a... zipper malfunction... and needed assistance..." Dew lies, gritting his teeth with every word.

Rain looks down at his button fly and pretends to zip it.

"But-"

Rain glares at Aeon over Dew's head.

"Okay!"

#lamp writes #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #aeon ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic #swissraindrop #nameless ghoul shipping

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thesiblingsoftheblackandwhite · 4 months

Text

I know, Blinks. I know. You're OK. Everything's going to be OK...

The lights in the pediatrics ward had somehow been even brighter than the ones downstairs. It didn't help that it was a weekend - prime time for noisy, stupid, children to have accidents.

Blinky clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, wracked with sobs. He'd cracked as soon as the elevator had opened, and Pokey had been at a loss for what to do.

Hurts...

When Becky sees us, we'll tell her. She can help, just wait a little longer.

A clock ticked endlessly right above them. Tinky would have found comfort in it otherwise. The irony. The double seater they were curled up on wasn't comfortable.

Wiggly shifts in the chair, muttering profanities as his legs sting.

A god in a wheelchair. Pathetic.

Pokey and Nibbly look around the colorful walls, painted with cartoon sea animals. Pokotho shudders, backing away as the kid of the mother next to him gets too close.

I hate kids.

Does that mean I have an excuse to eat one? They look chewy.

"I was wondering if you would make it."

#the lords in black #ask blog #T'noy Karaxis #Bliklotep #Wiggog Y'wrath #Nibblenephim #Pokotho #hatchetfield rp #Blog Event: Hatchetfield Citizens #rp blog #(I was reading up on woobifying while typing this post sorry if that's...obvious /lh//OOC)

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strawbubbysugar · 2 months

Note

To Hello/Goodbye, what are your thoughts on some...Other animals, like rats, flies, silverfish, etc.? And have you ever seen a house centipede or cellar spider?

:D they’re lovely! So many wonderful little legs and wiggly tails!!!!

Not a fan.

#ask #hello answers #bye answers

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missamyrisa2 · 5 months

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"Let's give our boy his underwear~"

One could heard the smirks in the voices from beyond the shadows outside the brightly lit exam table where a captured superhero lay struggling in restraints. His belly twitched and went taut, lines of pink trailed the most sensitive regions and reminded him of the tortures inflicted moments ago as punishment for his refusal to cooperate. A finger tapped his similarly blushed hip dip, glistening with heat and sweat as a voice reminded him. "This all could have ended if you'd just talk."

His lips quivered, The Boy Wonder suddenly realizing he needed a way out. Words tried to form through his stammers as the sounds of squeaking wheels filled the air. A wicked apparatus peered out from the shadows and glared down at the prisoner. With a hiss, the metal panels slid about and revealed a long snaking tentacle-like appendage with a glowing tip. "W-what in blazes is that!!" He demanded, fruitlessly trying to scurry up the table backwards. The machine hummed with a whining drone.

The squeaking sounds only continued as wicked gloved hands reached onto the table, scurrying around his wiggly body's hot spots. The captured hero protested and fought, but he quickly recognized their usage of the knowledge gained from the previous session. Fingers wiggled around the rims of his underarms, palming his tufts of soft hair. Hands scurried and spidered along his midsection, tracing the waist and rubbing with knowing intent at his hips. But worst of all, he saw those electric toothbrushes spinning up going right under his knees.

"Ffffuck fuck fuckkk fuck youuu!! Fuckingg fuckkkkk! Don't make me hardddd!!" He cursed and shouted recognizing their intent, his protests quickly turning to desperate giggles under strained muscles and newly pinkening skin while his superpenis moved to betray its master. The Boy Wonder threw his head back in rage, cackling at the fingers rubbing at his bucking hips following his every leg quiver to continue stimulating the hot spots right by his under knee tendons making him reflexively kick. He tried biting a lip, tried flooding his mind with imagery, grasping his fists. Nothing worked, his body trembled in sensitivity and his rod began swelling and bouncing off the table.

He shrieked as the machine's noises grew louder and more intense, the tentacle scanning and locking onto his princely part. "Keep that fffffucking thing awwhahahyy! Stop making me hahahaaaard!!" His captors chuckled and continued undeterred, the masks over their eyes glinting in the harsh light, watching intently as the machine moved towards its target. The glowing tip rumbled and split open, revealing a soft inner lining dripping with lubrication. With a mighty whimper the superhero cried out a giggling moan, the evil machine lunging forward to devour his throbbing wanting royal part. The tickles didn't stop, even magnifying their intensity making sure their captive was overloaded with stimulation on all those spots that feel good. He frantically tried to bite at the hand dodging around incessantly taunting around his neck, full well knowing that area put him into a state of mewling submission when his prince part was being ministered to.

"Nnhhh nuhhahaha nuu moreee shut it offff I'm dyinggg don't gooohhh!! FFFFFF~" His whines grew weak feeling the soft surface on his quivering member, only to raise into a renewed scream as the machine began suckling eagerly, applying pressure in a cascade and vibrating the silky surface against his death spot right under the tip. Every tickle became a thousandfold worse, a detonation of sensation exploding across his body. The machine ran its simulation of a teasing lover, gently kissing and twirling around as the host unit detatched the tentacle leaving a sleeve over to milk the boy wonder for all his worth.

While the hero struggled with his milking, one of the captors threw a crank and summoned a new line of machinery which spindled around from either side. Barely able to recognize what they were doing to him next, the Boy Wonder squealed in deep laughing moans while machinery spidered about gathering the fragments of his torn away tight briefs. The captors tickled and watched in amusement while their minion reassembled the underwear they had cut from their prize earlier and began sewing it back up over his helpless thrashing body.

Perhaps worse than the teasing kissing milking, the ticklish hero felt the snugness and soft material being reapplied and stitched over his over sensitized royal area, sealing in the sleeve and all the sensation below...and realized the mechanical seamstress was also adding a new lining underneath, fuzzy fluffy and feathery, resting along his inner thighs and cradling his royal jewels. "T-t-ttake it offff~!!! I can't you're killing meeehehehehe!!" They simply laughed and taunted, poking at his helpless form, teasing that he could have ended this long ago but he chose the path of giggly misery.

Equipped back into his shiny blue outfit, the hero was lifted from the table, seemingly released until another switch was thrown. A wobbly maniacal looking mechanical artist wheeled in from a nearby closet and snatched up his arms. Any other day, the Hero would have made short work of this bumbling unit, but his strength was long sapped and continuously stolen by the soft undies sealed to his lower body and the wicked milking machine which continued to edge and tease with every motion. Held into place by the art bot, his body shook and fought while paintbrushes emerged drawing hot pink lines and notations all over his ribs and belly, underarms, legs, behind on his back and down his tush. He cackled and gasped trying to resist, trying to say anything but only squeaks and squawks escaped much to the delight of the still watching captors.

And with a whoosh, the wiggling wonder was gone. A delivery service snatched up its parcel, wrapping him up like a product and tossing the wiggly boy into a soft netted basket. Dimly aware of the rush of activity, the hero sighed, laying back feeling relief despite still being taunted and teased on his royal area by this evil outfit. With a groan he found himself deposited onto a soft giant bed. The packaging was still wrapped around his arms and legs, the pink paint tingling across his spent body.

Yet... he was not in his bed. The Boy Wonder looked around the shadowy bedroom. The soft surface was curved in a peculiar way. And then his heart sank just as the door slammed open. "Well, well, well. Lookie what we have here~" His voice faltered, only those squeaks emerged. The hero scrambled around the heart shaped bed trying to clamber away as three sets of footsteps approached. His tickled teased and painted on body lit up the room. Three members of the Heart Guild grinned, hands on hips as they approached their sudden prize.

"People should really finish what they start, huh girls~"

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fruitcoops · 1 year

Note

I miss my sister so very much (she's in college) so your sibling fics are the ones I revisit the most often, you write them so well! I was wondering if you wanted to write something about Sirius and Reg playing when Reg is just a few months old and Sirius witnesses Reg saying his first word? Or maybe taking his first step, whatever you prefer. Only if you want to ofc, thank you!

Happy birthday, Sirius! Character credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Anastasia is mine <3

There was a birthday cake in the kitchen, Sirius presumed. He thought he had seen a big white box earlier that afternoon, the kind from the bakery that stamped their name in swirly gold letters and wrapped silk ribbon around the outside. The bows were always picture-perfect; the cakes were more shimmery decoration than substance. Sirius had never been allowed to try one, of course, but the poorly-hidden disappointment on guests’ faces upon the first bite told him he wasn’t missing much. Briefly, he wondered whether he should be sad about not getting to eat his own birthday cake, regardless of the taste.

Another round of laughter siphoned from the closed door of his father’s study and he wrinkled his nose. Never mind.

“It’s not my interest,” he declared. That was a big, new phrase Anastasia had taught him just that morning. Seven year olds need to know big words, she had advised with a secret smile. It makes you sound as smart as you are. He wondered if his cousins would find it as impressive when they visited tomorrow. Surely he was much smarter than Bellatrix had been when she was seven.

Regulus stared up at him, squishy and wide-eyed and confused, then burst into a peal of laughter that made Sirius’ stomach feel funny. A happy kind of funny, like when the birds on the electric line all took off at once. He scooted forward on the carpet and reached toward Sirius’ face with a hopeful noise, kicking in excitement when Sirius lifted him to sit in his lap.

“Anastasia?” he asked quietly. She looked up and set her book aside, leaning forward to hear better. Sirius loved it when she did that. It meant she was really listening. “May we please watch cartoons?”

“No, not right now.”

“Please?”

“We have to be quiet.” She tapped her index finger to her lips with a wink. “You’re the big surprise for your papa’s friends, birthday boy. We can’t spoil a surprise this soon!”

Sirius frowned. “But it’s my birthday. I want to watch cartoons.”

“I know, but—”

“It’s my birthday.” Something hot and itchy rose at the back of Sirius’ neck and he scowled deeper, tightening his hold around Regulus’ soft middle. It didn’t feel like angry and it didn’t feel like sad but altogether something bad that he shouldn’t have to feel today. “It’s my day, Anastasia.”

Anastasia pressed her lips together with a look to the study door, then sat down across from him on the carpet. “I can see you’re getting frustrated—” Frustrated, that’s what this feeling is. “—but cartoons will be too loud right now. What if we go upstairs with Regulus and play cars?”

Sirius chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. Regulus was getting wiggly already, and he did like playing cars. Sitting downstairs until his parents found the right time for the birthday surprise didn’t sound nearly as fun. “Alright,” he agreed, getting to his feet and looking down. “What do you think?”

Regulus held on to the leg of his scratchy pants for balance and toddled a couple feet before sitting heavily on his backside, then reached up toward Sirius once again.

“I know you can walk further than that,” Sirius sighed. Honestly, it was exasperating. At barely a year old, his little brother was as heavy as a Christmas turkey.

“I can carry him, Sirius,” Anastasia laughed when they reached the first landing.

Sirius shook his head and readjusted to hold Regulus under the arms, letting him hang limp and giggly. “It’s fine,” he panted. “I won’t drop him.”

“I never thought you would.”

Regulus decided enough was enough at the top of the second flight and squirmed, kicking his fleece-clad feet and making unhappy noises until Sirius let him down to wobble along the hallway. “He just started doing that last month,” Sirius informed Anastasia. “He’s fast. Maman says I started walking earlier, but I was slower. I think I’m better at it than he is.”

Anastasia arched a brow, but Sirius could see her smiling. “You’ve had a lot more practice.”

He shrugged. “I guess. Regulus, my room, remember?”

Regulus made a noise and turned, using the bookshelf to balance. Sirius heard Anastasia’s surprised sound and looked up at her curiously. “He understands,” she said. “Interesting.”

“Of course he understands.”

Her eyes flickered down to him. “I—well, I didn’t expect it, is all.”

Sirius frowned. He didn’t like it when people said things like that. “Regulus is very smart.”

“You’re both very intelligent,” Anastasia agreed with a gentle ruffle of his hair. “Alright, go pick your cars and I’ll get the map out.”

It had been fifty-three minutes since they came upstairs. They had played cops and robbers, cowboy chase, and city—he had sorted all his cars by color and then by size, and Anastasia taught him the English words for all of the categories. “This is much more fun than a party,” Sirius had declared after a rousing car chase through the plastic zoo animals. Anastasia had looked a little sad, then, but smiled anyway and told him she was glad he thought so.

That didn’t make a lot of sense, if Sirius was being honest. Why would he want to sit in a room of grownups when he could play cars with Anastasia and Regulus? What stupid person would think that was fun? Best to leave the boring stuff to his parents. It was nice of them to entertain the guests so he could go play.

Regulus wasn’t loud most days; he only cried when he was hungry or missed a nap, and otherwise seemed content to stick to his humming or nothing at all. Sirius understood him perfectly fine either way. But he was louder today, pointing to cars when Anastasia named English colors or sizes—small, medium, big, very big—and babbling. They clapped every time. It made Regulus smile, mostly toothless, and that was enough of a reward.

After cars, they watched the snow falling against the sunset, and once it was dark, Anastasia brought them back downstairs for dinner in the kitchen. Sirius suffered through fifteen minutes of being paraded around the guests to be cooed over and get his cheeks pinched by women older than his grandmother before making a quick escape when the conversation turned back to his father.

The moon hung like a silver dollar in the corner of his bedroom window. The three of them sat on the carpet, Regulus in his lap and Anastasia’s arm around him, tucked up cozy under a blanket from last Christmas. “This was a good birthday,” Sirius said, snuggling into her side. Dinner had made him sleepy. Between the two of them, he was sandwiched in warmth; it was too easy to let his eyelids droop.

“Do you feel older? Seven is a big birthday.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yes. It’s my lucky number.”

“Hmm. Mine is…” Sirius thought for a moment while Regulus played with his hands. “Mine is six, I think. I liked being six.”

“I did, too. That was a long time ago for me, though.”

“It was yesterday for me.”

“I know, Sirius,” she laughed.

“Soos.”

Sirius felt Anastasia lean down to Regulus’ level at the same time he did. “Reggie? Was that you?”

Regulus pulled on the cuff of Sirius’ fancy shirt. “Soos,” he repeated, shaking it like a rattle.

“…shirt?”

“I think…I think he’s trying to say your name,” Anastasia said quietly.

Oh. Excitement leapt in his chest and he turned Regulus around. Chubby fists waved before settling on Sirius’ front; Regulus leaned in and bonked their foreheads together with a shrieking giggle. “Soos!”

“Sirius,” he corrected.

“Soos.”

“See—ree—oos.”

“Soos!” Regulus stretched it out into a half dozen syllables and Sirius turned to Anastasia, beaming, before Regulus grabbed his cheeks and brought his attention back. “Soos.”

“Sirius.” He touched his own nose, then pressed on Regulus’. “Regulus.”

“Goose.”

“Close enough.”

“Soos and Goose.” Anastasia shook her head, bright-painted lips in a broad smile, and Sirius saw her eyes go shiny for just a second before she blinked it away. “I’ll have to put that one in the book, hmm?”

“Does it count?”

“As a first word? Of course it does.”

“Well, it’s not quite right,” Sirius pointed out, though he couldn’t tear his attention from Regulus’ careful mapping of his face. He was back to humming, little beeps of sound every few seconds.

“It doesn’t have to be just right. It’s enough that he tried, isn’t it? And we know what he means.”

Sirius considered it. “Is that your present for me?” he asked Regulus. “Saying my name?”

“Soos.”

“It counts.” Sirius adjusted his grip so they were eye-to-eye, close enough for Regulus to grab his ears. “That is my favorite birthday present. Thank you.”

Regulus went for his nose next and Sirius jerked back, startled. “Soos!”

“That is not my interest,” he said firmly.

Anastasia’s bark of laughter was louder than any cartoons would have been.

#sirius black #regulus black #anastasia #sweater weather #baby sirius #baby regulus #black brothers #birthday #first word #walburga and orion pay attention to your kid or face my wrath

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dior-bellee · 8 months

Text

♡-𝓑𝓔𝓣𝓦𝓔𝓔𝓝 𝓨𝓞𝓤𝓡 𝓣𝓗𝓘𝓖𝓗𝓢, 𝓐𝓛𝓒𝓘𝓝𝓐 𝓓.

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓟𝔀𝓸𝓹, 𝓕𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰

𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼: I chose to describe Alcina as a black Romanian because I think she got some of that niggly wiggly in her yk, also the titles was named after the song between your thighs by jimmy brown. Listen to it it go hard

𝓢𝓶𝓾𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓾𝓽.

You both had just left a party that was held in your honor due to you having good rating for one of your many fashion shows, it was a lovely one of course but it was now far gone from your mind as you held onto Alcina. She was one of your models and she was the best one, her looks captivated many of critics and other designers alike but she seemed to like your company best. Her look tonight was simple and sleek just a button up shirt with some slacks and suspenders, well that’s what it was the button up shirt was discarded only leaving the suspenders and slacks on her body and how good she looked in it was something more than great.

Her hands removed your shirt and her lips planted kisses on your neck soft, sweet kisses that left lipstick marks on your neck. Soon her kisses moved from your neck to your chest where she left kiss marks on your breast, then you stomach and now directly in front of your entrance leaving trails of red on your skin.

“Stand up for me sweetie..” You did just that which allowed Alcina to slip under you and reach her long arms out to pull you to a kneeling position. “Comfy?” She asked as her breath grazed your pussy making it drip more. “Yea I’m good” you said moving down a bit more so she could easily enter you.

“Excellent.” She spoke teasing your swollen clit with her long nails running her fingers back and forth between the wetness of your folds. One of her hands held you up as it massaged your thigh and the other pressed on your clit rubbing it viscously making you moan oh-so loudly.

"Yea that's its good girl, keep on moaning for me m'kay?" She spoke lowly her beautiful Romanian accent was like music to your ears as her breath swept against your clit with ruthless grace.

“Alci..” You whined eyes looking at her lovingly “That feels wonderful alcina.” Your hand gripped her dark curls that framed her wonderful face and her beautiful brown skin especially when her finger went inside of you a bit. Her fingers played with you wonderfully almost pushing you to the edge right then and there but you held out whimpers and moans coming out of you like a waterfall.

“Ahh baby I can tell you’re coming already, I guess I can finally stop the teasing” She said moving her hands away from your clit and wrapping her hand around your thighs, she positioned herself right below your entrance, spread your fold apart and delved her tongue inside of you pushing you all the way down on her face making you moan loudly.

“Fuck Alci..” You moaned as her tongue went in and out of you with a different pace each time, you loved the sensation of her slowly bringing your back to your high, it was like riding a hill of pleasure the sensation making you feel up and down.

When she heard you moans it ignite her to go faster, as she did she slipped one finger inside of you and continued to ravish you like you were the only meal she needed each lick and thrust bringing you to be heights of pleasure.

Your legs started to shake and a knot worked up in your stomach and she knew you were going to cum which only made her become more intense entering two more fingers in you and making your thoughts become so clouded with pleasure you felt like you were on cloud 9.

“Ahh..!” You moaned loudly as you felt yourself cumming the juices spilling out of you was like a fountain of sweetness for Alcina as your hands tangled in her hair.

As you both came down Alcina sat you on her lap as you got a good look at her, lipstick smudged of course and curl’s tangled. “Ahh would you look at that, I seemed to have made a decalcomanie on you love.” She said pointing out the kiss marks on your thighs.

“Come on let’s get you cleaned up.” She took your hand and led you to the shower.

#smut #resident evil #lady dimitrescu #sapphic #thicc women #black women

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jesse-cosay · 9 months

Note

Not a kiss prompt but

“Is it weird that I’ve been wanting to hold your hand lately…?”

Jesslake

All prompts/asks are accepted!

It was easy on the train. Jesse would slip his hand into Lake's like it was nothing. Maybe because it wasn't a big deal. It was just something he did with friends.

Pulling them out of danger, leading them to something cool he'd seen. It was so natural the way he dragged them around. As excited to show Lake the world as Lake was to see it.

So why was this so hard?

Maybe it was because Lake didn't have anything to show Jesse. There was no end goal. No reason to take him by the hand and lead him, because Lake didn't want to go anywhere, they just-

They wanted to hold his hand.

Not for any real reason other than it was nice. Holding hands. Jesse was always so warm and his skin was- it was soft. Compared to Lake, everything was soft. But touching Jesse made them feel that softness in their chest. The kind that had their face heating up. That left them biting down how pleased they felt or else it would show on their face.

But it was so hard! Reaching out and making that first point of contact. There was no reason for Lake to be touching Jesse- so grabbing his hand felt like too much. Like crossing a line.

Jesse was sitting beside them. His knee bumped their's from time to time as he shifted in his seat. Ever moving.

It was a subtle touch, but it made Lake crave more. Wondering what Jesse would do if they placed their hand over his, where it rested on his leg.

Would he brush them off? Take their hand? Would he stop talking in surprise?

And why were all the possibilities so terrifying?

"Hey, could I ask you something?" It was just the two of them in the living room. Lake would probably die if anyone else was there to witness their social ineptitude.

"Sure!" Jesse was supportive and cheery as ever. It made Lake's insides itch.

"Is it weird for friends to hold hands?"

He seemed to give it some thought, which made Lake less than hopeful. If it was something he had to think about- the odds were that it was weird. That Lake was asking for too much.

"I guess it depends? I don't think it's weird. But some people do?" He ran a hand through his hair, looking a bit anxious. "I mean it's- it's up to you. And whoever you're holding hands with. I guess. It doesn't have to be weird."

It was a better response than Lake had been expecting.

Jesse said it wasn't weird. Not to him- and Lake didn't think it was weird. They didn't want it to be weird, at least.

So they took Jesse's hand. Hooking their fingers in between his and placing their intertwined hands on their lap. It felt good. Like some part of Lake that had been empty was now bursting at the seams. Trying not to explode with how full and content they felt.

"Oh." Jesse's voice wobbled oddly. And when Lake turned to check his face, to see if this was okay, he turned away. They caught the tail end of how dark his cheeks were, though. It was enough to make them feel all wiggly again. Like worms in the pit of their stomach.

"Is this- is this okay?" They asked. Trying to reaffirm that they weren't overstepping.

"Yes! Yeah. This is- it's good." His voice pitched up as he tried to reassure them. Lake wanted to hide in their arms, but- they'd only just worked up the courage to take his hand. They couldn't back out now.

Instead, they leaned into his shoulder, hiding their face against his shirt. "Thanks."

#infinity train #jesse cosay #lake infinity train #infinity train book 2 #jesslake #ask #yellow's writing #theyre so silly and i adore themmmm

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shmothman · 9 months

Note

ooh x for the nsfw alphabet? I know you have a whole post about it but I really love your ideas and I wanna hear you talk about it more!!!!!

SFW/NSFW Alphabet Prompts

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

nsfw below the cut, in case you couldn’t guess 🤣

As you can tell by my fics, I’m fond of swapping out his genitals (as millionsvash said, “like legos”) based on little more than “what I feel like writing that day.” This post goes into my main “flowery” version: external petals, internal structures that resemble a cock and cunt, which takes inspiration from different flowers—and also slugs, because gastropod sex gets pretty wild and love darts are a thing that exist, for real, in the world. (As always, I lament the fact that I’m a much better writer than I am artist—but I tried my best.) Some additional details to this that I didn’t touch on much in that post include: because these structures are internal most of the time, they’re self-lubricating—and well lubricated at that. He’s very wet and drippy when he’s turned on, and his slick is similar in viscosity to like… aloe. (No, I didn’t buy aloe drinks at the store to see if the texture was what I expected, and then find out that the drinks are basically just sugar water with chunks of aloe in them. And no I haven’t been buying aloe everything as my own personal inside joke. [lying.]) Plus, he’s sweet! Because it’s my fictional boyfriend and I can say his cum tastes good. And I haven’t touched on this at all, but I picture that his slick is… kind of difficult to wash off. It dries very sticky and hydrophobic. You’re gonna be sticky and slick for the rest of forever, good luck!

As you can also probably tell by my fics, I am a fan of tentacles too—so in a case where I’m still giving him something analogous to a cock, but I don’t feel like writing the detail required to describe All Of That, I picture him with something long and tapered, that unsheathes itself from a slit between his legs—not really connected to either the stampede flower imagery or the 98/max wing imagery, but hey. I’m just having fun with my alien boyfriend’s junk here. I like a man whose genitals I can write as writhing, whether that means fleshy petals and tendrils or drippy everting tentacles.

Other times, though, I want to write him as more specifically trans—more of a classic plantussy vibe. Because alien pussies are just as fun as alien dicks and deserve just as much love. How I’ve written that so far is still in the context of petals—basically like my flowery design, just minus the internal petals that twist together to form the cock, and with the addition of a wiggly clit, more like the stamen of a flower (…mixed with a tentacle. Again). No matter what I’m giving him, though, I tend to picture him as externally closer to looking like he has a cunt. (Hello, I’m trans, it’s what I do.) Also, now that I’m reading max, I want to try writing a more feather-inspired design: I’ve seen a lot of really wonderful art that’s all been mixed together in my brain, and I’m picturing something more pussy-adjacent, surrounded by a sort of downy fluff, with a—again I’ll use the word writhing—clit that sort of… swells a bit.

Really, the important thing for me is to do something fun with it. I’m always looking for novel ways of expressing the idea of pleasure, and I have fun coming up with structures that could experience pleasure in strange ways—like the petals of his cock being able to open up and reveal even more sensitive areas, or the tendrils and their hormone secretions. The nice thing is that there’s no shortage of inspiration to be found in my line of work; invertebrates have some absolutely wild reproductive structures (or structures that have no reproductive function that I can look at and say “yeah, I can make a weird dick out of that”). I have a lot more ideas on how I can Make Him Weirder, from shit like “literal sex pollen” to a bit of a knotting fic that I’m working on currently. I’m just going where the vibes take me!

As for what’s going on beneath the rest of his clothes, I’m always using 98/max Vash’s body/scars as my reference! (And I only give him one nipple lol)

(Vash’s canon grey sweatpants my fucking beloved.)

#once again I’m sorry to put this in the tags but I need it to be filterable #vash the stampede #Trigun #fic talk #writing prompts

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