#and like. this means something right. this is a pattern?

[woso-dreamzzz]

IKEA

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Sam Kerr x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You go to IKEA

It was Guro's fault.

Everyone could agree on that, though Guro insisted it was actually Millie's fault for bringing up the idea of a trip to IKEA in the first place.

Everyone else disagreed because Guro was the one that was meant to be holding your hand before you disappeared.

Either way, you were gone and they were fucked.

"I mean," Erin says as they wander through the winding halls of IKEA," She's Swedish so this place must be a second home. She's probably not lost."

"She's practically a baby," Millie replies bluntly, dipping into one of the showrooms to check you're not hiding there," I think we should be more worried about someone kidnapping her."

"You don't think she's been kidnapped, right?" Guro asks, gnawing on her bottom lip as she glances around," I mean, no one actually kidnaps kids, nowadays? Right? I thought we've moved past that."

"No one's kidnapped her!" Sam insists," She's somewhere around this place. We'll grab her and not let Magda and Pernille know she even got lost."

The others nod in agreement before Millie makes the choice to split everyone up. They'd cover more ground by themselves and hopefully find you a bit quicker.

IKEA is already a maze for normal people. She doesn't want to think about how confusing it must be for such a little kid.

Although, you don't think you're lost at all. It's not your fault that Guro got distracted by something and told you that you were free to wander for a little bit. You didn't mean to go so far and out of sight but this shop is exciting.

It got even more exciting when you hit the toy section. There's lots of toys for you to choose from so you're not quite sure which one you would like.

All of them would be a good choice but Momma only gave you a little bit of money to spend and you're just learning your numbers but you know that it's not enough to buy everything.

That's a little sad but Morsa's always told you that you can't have everything so this must be one of those times.

You keep staring at them though, eyes wide as you try to decide which one you want to take home with you.

You can hear movement behind you, footsteps pounding on the shiny floor. You don't turn around though.

This shop is busy so it must be someone trying to find something. You don't want to get in their way so you press a bit closer towards the toys.

Sam doesn't want to let you remain lost any longer and she certainly doesn't want to call Magda and Pernille to let them know.

Her feet pound against the linoleum as she tries to find you.

Erin's stayed behind to check where they've lost you while Sam, Millie and Guro have moved forward to check in the other areas you could have wandered to, peeling off from each other to cover more ground.

Sam's hoping she can sprint to the exit before you can get there with your little legs. Even if she can't, she's sure none of the staff will ignore a little girl wandering around by herself so hopefully, one of them can nab you and announce your disappearance through the tannoy system.

Sam's sprinting so fast that she almost misses you.

Almost.

Before she got to take you out for the day, Magda and Pernille made her memorise what you're wearing, just in case you wandered off a bit like now. She'd been made to stand on their doorstep with her eyes closed as she recited exactly what you wearing, straight down to your sock colour and pattern.

It comes in handy now as, out of the corner of her eye, Sam catches sight of the exact same colour of your shirt and leggings.

She skids to a stop, turning around to look properly.

You're right there, head tilted up to study the big bear toy in the crate in front of you.

"Hey!"

You recognise the sound of Sam's voice behind you and turn to look at her.

"Sam!" You say," I have enough?"

You hold out your fistful of money out to her to inspect.

"W-What?!"

"I have enough money for the bear?" You elaborate, pointing at the toy you want and shaking your hand to draw her attention back from your face to your money.

"You scared us!" Sam says instead," Why did you leave?"

You frown. "I didn't leave. Guro said I could walk by myself for a bit."

Sam's just about to tear her hair out at your clear misinterpretation of Guro's words. "Okay, well-"

"Sam!" Guro comes sprinting up behind her. "Pernille's calling! What do I do?!"

You tilt your head to the side in confusion. "Why are you scared of Momma calling?"

"Oh my god! We found you!"

"I found her," Sam replies, rolling her eyes.

"I didn't hide!" You say stubbornly, stamping your foot on the ground," Making a new friend!" You point at the big bear you want to buy.

"That's nice," Guro says before her phone is pressed against your ear," Talk to Pernille."

"Hi Momma!" You chirp," I'm buying a bear!"

"Hi, princesse," Pernille coos in your ear, finally feeling settled and calm now that Guro finally picked up her fifth call," Are you having fun?"

You nod before realising this is a phone call and Momma can't see you so you speak again," Yes! Sam was running to find-"

Sam's hand covers your mouth and she hurries to speak. "To find a new lamp! Helen broke my last one."

At home, Pernille frowns, waving over Magda and putting the phone on speaker.

"You were running to find a new lamp?"

Sam chuckles awkwardly. "Er...yeah...I'm really into lamps. Did I not tell you?"

It's clear this is the first time Magda's hearing of it too, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Sam?" She asks.

Sam squeaks hearing Magda's voice and her own goes very high pitched as she replies. "Yes, Magda?"

"What kind of lamp do you recommend?" Magda asks," I've been thinking of getting a new one."

"Er...One that fits next to your bed?"

"Uh-huh. What about decoration? Just plain or pattern?"

"Er...I think...Erm...You can get patterned lamps?"

Magda rolls her eyes. "Put my daughter on the phone, Sam." There's a rustle. "Princesse, can you tell me what Sam was searching for?"

"She thought I was hiding!" You giggle and Magda can hear squabbling in the background. "Which is silly because I wasn't! I think she thought I was lost!"

You keep giggling and Pernille takes a very deep breath.

"Princesse," She says," Please put Sam and Guro back on the phone, please. Morsa and I need to talk to them."

"Okay, Momma!"

"Sam, Guro," Magda says through clenched teeth," You get Erin and Millie and you get back to this house within the hour."

"Do-Do we have to?"

"Yes!"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #sam kerr x reader #sam kerr #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

[lazyjellyfish300]

(pls + ty) a funny/fluffy lil drabble about miguel working up the courage to finally tell reader he’s spiderman and reader’s like “yeah dude i know” 😭

Hello love! Here ya go!! Hope you like it 😁🥰

I know.

Miguel O'Hara x gn!Reader

CW: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, ANGST, FLUFF

Word count 1.5k

@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer

------

Miguel's suit dissipates in the bathroom, arriving home late after the police scanner alerted him to a heist at a bank uptown, freezing when he hears a creak and a sleepy groan coming from the bedroom you two shared. 

The hour late, during which most diurnal beings would be asleep. Except for him.

He pauses, Adam's apple raised in his throat, until he hears the reassuring silence once more, letting out a deep exhale of relief as he opens the door. 

You were tucked into dreamland, or so he thought. Bed dipping slightly with his weight as he got in next to you. 

"How was the overtime?" You ask in a groggy voice, still turned away from him. 

Alarmed, Miguel looks at your back then down at the floor as if he's calculating something in his head. 

Shock, how did you....wait....oh. 

He forgot that his cover up lie this time was that they needed him to come in for overtime at the office. 

"It was okay." Miguel shifts over to you, laying his arm across your abdomen. "I'm sorry I woke you up." 

A smile tugs at your lips. "The office won't be calling tomorrow morning, right?" 

Miguel returns a lazy smile at you. He would do everything he can to be there for you to make up for it. Although, it would be a tall ask of Nueva York's unpredictable crime patterns.

"I am sure that they won't." He hums. "I'll have the cinnamon rolls and orange juice ready for your book club tomorrow like I promised." 

You feel a grateful buzz in your heart. Even though your boyfriend could be busy, he wasn't forgetful. "Thanks, babe."

He looks down at you, brain wracked with guilt at lying to you again. He knew he couldn't keep you in the dark that much longer. He can't go on lying to you while you did absolutely nothing wrong. You kept his household up and running, did your cute little hobbies and entertained your rowdy group of friends you were always hanging out with, giving him a love that he was certain was never meant to find him in this lifetime, accepting all of his flaws in the messy packaging it came with, never once making him feel bad about who he was or his emotional struggles. You just patiently held his hand and waited for him in your cozy shared bed like you always did. 

And how did he repay you? Oh, only by lying to you for the entire six months you were dating about his entire existence. His second secret occupation and double identity as Spider-Man, if his talons and his crimson eyes he hid behind contacts weren't glaringly obvious enough. 

His lip trembles as his eyes rake over you, back in dreamland where you belonged. Something about seeing you so tranquil like this made it the final straw for him. 

He was going to tell you, tomorrow. And you'd hate him for the rest of your life. Six months of bliss, a mere glimpse into the happy life you could have shared together, all shot down the drain with just two words. You deserved better and he knew it.

Selfishly, though, he kept up the act because the idea of doing life without you would've drained his world of all color and meaning quicker than his door slammed, the closet emptied of all signs of you except the sheets barely clinging to the scent you left behind, your taillights disappearing down his street for the final time while he reeled inside the home you built together from the shock of having all of you and then none of you all at once. 

A couple tears fall down his face as he pulls your sleeping frame against his chest, too distraught to sleep. Savoring what it feels like to hold you just one more night before you slip through his fingers and he'll once again know a life where he must go on without it. 

----

Since Miguel didn't sleep all night, he had no issues getting up in the morning to slide the cinnamon rolls in the oven. Filling up the fancy pitcher with orange juice he knew you liked to use for the guests for "fancy" occasions. 

As he watches you bounce anxiously around the apartment, he feels horrible knowing that he's about to drop this bomb on you right before your friends come over, but he simply can't go another minute without being suffocated by the weight of his secret. 

If his heart was going to get utterly destroyed and the one sliver of a fragment of happiness he's ever known in this existence will slip back into the staggering ocean of nothingness, then better to do it now.

Do it now when your friends were on their way, your mind was awake, and you'd be surrounded by everything else you loved in life besides him to fall back on. He figures now will be the best time. 

"...Then we need to have the welcome chalkboard on this side so that way when they come in...." You mumble, shuffling to the left and take three steps back. "Okay perfect..." 

Miguel clears his throat. "We need to talk..." 

"Not now, sweetie....got book club in 20 minutes and no plate settings laid out and goodie bags still in the closet...." Your voice tapers off as you run back into the bedroom. 

"Oh, thank you for getting the cinnamon rolls and orange juice by the way!!!" 

Miguel hears the police scanner go off. A high speed chase underway in Brooklyn. He curses quietly, then feels his face go white. "Baby?" 

"What?!" You snap, slightly irritated and frozen in place, your clothes frazzled, balancing a box of neatly packed goodie bags themed after the book you're reading with some banners and streamers about to fall out of your arms. 

Here goes nothing. 

"I am Spider-Man." 

One of the goodie bags falls to the ground with a thwack. 

"And there are 12 inches in a foot." The plastic crinkles as you set the decorations on the countertop, pulling up a chair to tape a banner from one corner of the ceiling to another. 

Miguel feels like he's got whiplash. "What...?" 

"And my dad's a jerk." You pat a piece of tape to one end of the banner. "Also, smoking tobacco is bad for you!" 

Miguel feels like he's in the Twilight Zone as he slowly walks to the couch with invisible math equations floating around his head. 

"And the ending of Game of Thrones was a disappointment! And JonBenét Ramsey's family had something to do with her murder! And the Apollo 11 moon landing was the most highly televised event in human history!" 

Miguel swallows slowly. "You...you know?" 

You walk to where he's sitting, placing your hands on his shoulders. 

"In other news, water is wet. Yes, I know, baby. You think I didn't notice your contacts that you always leave by the sink? Or the amazing coincidence that every time there's an Earth shattering event on the news, my boyfriend just happens to be absent? Or when I do turn on the news, a guy with your exact height, build, and cute pair of buns is plastered front and center on the screen? Not many people are six feet nine inches tall, Mig." 

Miguel is speechless. 

"Also, normal people don't have the police scanner running all day." 

Miguel feels like he just jumped out of a plane, and 100 feet right before he was about to splatter all over the pavement, his parachute burst open. 

"You're...not mad?" 

You sigh. "No, I'm not mad." 

You cup his cheek.  How could you be mad at a face so sweet as his? Or the fact that your boyfriend's closest thing to a red flag was that he lied about public service and risking his life to save others in his free time. 

"I was just waiting for you to be honest with me about it. Please don't ever hold something like that in again." You kiss him and he melts. 

"I know what I signed up for when we started dating. I'm in it for the long haul and there's nothing that you could tell me that I wouldn't want to figure out together, okay?" 

Miguel breathes a sigh of relief. "I love you..." 

"I love you more." You hastily run back to the counter, setting out the goody bags and making the finishing touches to your lovely spread. 

"Don't you have a 2006 Chevy Malibu that you need to go apprehend?" 

He smiles. You're absolutely right. 

---

And as he looks back at the offending vehicle slowly rotating in a circle of his red webs hanging from a tree just 30 minutes later while NYPD scratches their heads and books the driver into jail, he feels his phone buzz in his pocket with a text from you. 

We're gonna need more cheese and crackers. Mind "swinging"by the store? 🕸️🕷️😏

The gals adored the cinnamon rolls btw! 

Good work, today, Spider-Man! I love you. Make sure you come home to me. ❤️

And from then on, he always would. 

----

🖤

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader

[inumakis-boo]

TOGE INUMAKI ⟢. ݁₊⋆.˚ ༘♡˚

fanfiction synopsis ␥ you and toge inumaki are both in your third year of jujustu high, but youve barely spent a moment alone yet. when you do on a saturday night, you realize exactly why you need to "hang out" more // aka, the first step to being friends with benefits.. hooking up the first time.

word count - 4,629 // hope you enjoy! tw obviously.

You would have never guessed how this night would end, compared to its beginning. Like something you would have read in a terrible booktok novel with its cliches and tropes- but you could have never understood how even cliches, imitate life.

It was finally Saturday night, and all of the second and third years sat in Itadori’s room, with the dim blue LED lights circling them, and posters of clad women on the wall to give off the perfect teenage boy aesthetic. Some game was going on the TV and both Itadori and Nobara had been occupying everyone's attention with their shouting and cheers as they fought on screen.

You didn’t know exactly how or why or when, someone had swiped a bottle of something, and now it lay on the mats on the floor, empty with a broken seal. At least everyone had gotten more than a few sips of the fire in the bottle, and you struggled to swallow it, but you still smiled after and laughed. It made the stress of training on the body at least feel a little better as your fingertips buzzed.

Nobody checked the time, and everyone laid out on his bed, on the floor, on the desk and chair. It wouldn’t be too much of a problem- all the teachers would be gone for the weekend. After all, they were all old enough that Satoru Gojo wouldn’t have to babysit constantly, right?

They sat, comfortably then, letting the TV be loud and the shouting obnoxious.

It had taken you awhile to notice, but one member had been missing for the last few minutes with no explanation. You double-checked the room and did not see the violet-eyed boy sitting anywhere. He had last taken a few sips of the bottle and beat Itadori in a game, before at some point dipping for.. whatever reason.

Perhaps he had gotten sick or was fetching something? You decided to go check it out. You silently got up off the floor and didn’t pay much attention as everyone laughed at Itadori dying for the 7th time tonight.

The hallway was darker than usual, but it was probably too late anyway. Moonlight shone through the panes of the window, their crossed shapes decorating the hardwood down the hall, each window revealing the silky glow from the outside. Your eyes followed down and caught to one pattern disturbed.

You follow it up and see the one you were checking on, leaning on the window sill, soaking up the moonlight. It glimmered against the pale skin of his face but did not fade the marks around his mouth.

You slowly walk over, and he tears his eyes from the scene towards you and smiles a little. Instinctually, he pulls out his phone.

“You look happy.” You remark, and his smile grows as he types into the notes app.

// Just felt like walking around, but seeing you here is better. //

You were familiar with his real personality beyond the curse lodged in his throat, the silly and rather typical teenage boy attitude in everything he did. But for some odd reason, it was seeing it face to face was a difference. You had only maybe a few conversations with him before over text, and while you trained together in class, didn’t mean you were used to him yet.

// Something happen? //

“Nah.” You lean on the sill with your body, feeling the open breeze come in. “You're not missing anything.”

He just smirks with a little head shake, and his eyes that had met yours look back to the sill.

// I won’t keep you here, //  He types as you look over. // I should be back soon. //

“I’m not in a rush to watch Megumi and Itadori argue about the game rules again.” You smile and snicker. “Out here is nice.”

// Not surprised about that at all // He snickers aloud, // I would like company. //

The moonlight and the random liquor someone brought must have been messing with your senses- He felt welcoming and charming, and in this space, it was more private than anywhere else.

“You had plenty of company in there.” You bring it up, but he just shrugs. Perhaps he wasn’t asking for that kind of head-ache-inducing company.

He scrolled up again to the first note.

// ..it is better seeing you here.//

What was happening with your stomach? It was like something was bubbling up, in a good way. He gazed with an interested eye. and you tried to hold back a dopey grin.

He turns to face away from the window and stretches. You watch him turn back to you, his face now in the dark of the hall. He types-

//I am going to go back to my room, wanna me to walk you back to everyone else?//

“W-What?” You stutter embarrassingly, then clear your throat- “Nono, you don’t have to. It is only down the hall. Let me walk you instead.”

Ah, his smile was so genuine, and he brushed back his hair for a moment before shrugging. A visual okay.

You begin to walk with Him down the silver halls, cusping your hands in yours, watching as you walk in step, his dorm slippers on with his casual sweatpants and navy t-shirt. He wanted to be comfortable- it wasn’t even the first time you had seen him in casual clothes.. although it was more of a rare sight to not see his mouth covered.

You blindly follow him to his room, your eyes catching peeks of his face. He still looked like he did last year according to school photos, but his jaw was more defined, and of course, his inky markings had always made themselves apparent. You thought they were interesting, like any tattoo or scar.

His eyes look at you curiously, and you realize you're just staring at him and look away. You don’t look back, even though he brushes his arm against yours. He had little words to say, yet had better social skills than anybody here. It didn’t feel awkward though, it was just a little new. You hadn’t really noticed him before.. nor had you noticed him noticing you.

Both of you arrived at his dorm room, a little wood plaque around his doorknob that was a gift, a salmon emoji that had been painted for him hung there. It was cute, and you watched it as the door opened.

Toge stepped into his room and didn’t bother to flick on the lights, the full moon shining right through his windows. You couldn’t see much but you could smell him from outside of the room, a mix of his shampoo and cologne- fresh and warm. It almost pulled you in.

He turned after he kicked off his slippers, coming back to the door with his notes presented still.

// We should hang out more often. I think you're fun. //

You shake your head with a laugh. How did he come to that conclusion?

“We didn’t even do anything..!” You laugh, rubbing your arms. Toge returns to his phone. “How would you know?”

// Yeah but, I have my reasons, don’t I? Maybe I have a feeling. //

Okay, maybe your knees had good reason to be weak. Was he flirting? His face seemed to say so.

And.. what could happen if you tested the waters? You hadn’t ever flirted with many people before but.. he was just a friend, right?

You look down the hall and bite your lower lip with a smile. “What kind of feeling?”

It is his turn to look away, leaning against the door frame. He is trying to not smile too hard, you can see.

“Are you feeling like.. we should hang out sooner than later?"

You were wondering if others had drunk more than you had, and according to his eyes, sizing you up, you had an inkling that he might've had just enough to not fear with his expressions. If he was truly cautious, he would be covering his mouth, right?

And according to the feeling between your legs, you had little filter to worry about.

He took a step once, then twice until your chests were practically meeting, and he looked like he had already decided what he wanted, and was bold about it. While your heart was still beating, even if rapidly, you wouldn’t stop until you figured him out.

Of course, he typed with one hand by your side, then presented.

// I am feeling like you are curious about me like I am curious about you, and I wanna see more. Only if you wanna. //

He had read you like a book. You licked your lips and sighed, looking up at him. His hair had been pushed back some since he arrived at his dorm, and the warmth from his body mixed with his cologne was driving you nuts. You wondered how toned he was under these clothes- and wondered if he thought about you the same way.

“If you're so curious..” Your hand slipped onto his pec- firm and warm. “How about you come find out?”

That would do it- one smirk and another step and his lips were pressing against yours. So softly at first, but once your hand had slowly crept up his neck and pulled him just a tad closer, you could feel the intensity rise, his tongue running across your lips and into your open mouth, hands running up and down your hips, never pulling you further but always closer.

Then you could feel him moving back and pulling you with him. You were still in the hallway outside of his dorm, after all. You accepted it- and had no room to even protest. He was too good of a kisser and knew exactly how to take control, not much of a surprise there.

By the time you had started paying attention again, you heard the decoration on his door tap on the door as it closed shut, and realized vaguely you were in a dark room with his boy that just moments ago, considered nothing more than friendly with.

How far this was going to go or fear of being caught was honestly the last thing on your mind. He had reiled you up and at this point, he could have anything he asked for. He wanted to know, he needed to know.

You let his tongue slip into your mouth as his hands run underneath your shirt, his hands on your skin sending you even more haywire. It was addictive, and you were determined to make the same reaction out of him- if not better.

You let your fingers curl in his hair, pushing him forward more, his warm sigh against your cheek telling you how much he was enjoying this. He deserved it, for being so nice to you, and coming onto you like that, making you feel so nervous and witty. You let him guide you to somewhere in his room, and suddenly you can feel the edge of something behind your ass. You were slightly pinned to the end of his bed frame, just enough to keep you from running away.

His knee slowly dragged between the gap of your legs, and the proximity made you sigh in appreciation. He hummed, yet didn’t dare leave your lips. He was being so explorative, passionately involved in every toss of your tongue in your mouth and every patch of skin he touched. His fingertips were dragging across your flesh, and the entire time you could barely keep yourself sane enough to touch him back.

But you did- starting at his navel, just to make him sigh through his nose as his kisses traveled from your mouth to your neck and ear, the brush of his face and lips making you want to squirm with delight. Then, the palm of your hand, just teasing enough, palmed his firm abs, defined so perfectly that you could imagine them in your dreams just by touch alone- but here you were, touching his so wantingly. Your fingertips, like his, grazed so temptingly across his obliques, feeling their tightness and the rumble in his chest easily.

At this point, his shirt was bunching at your wrists, and as a final act of teasing, simply made a motion to pull it up, and meeting violet eyes as he did could’ve made you sink to your knees at a moment. His eyes were lidded and needy, and his lips were pinker with friction, and you could only imagine if he was the type to leave marks behind.

The white shirt had been tossed, maybe on his desk chair, he clearly hadn’t cared where it ended up, because he was too busy doing the exact same to you. You wouldn’t even break eye contact, wouldn’t dare, as his hands sat right below your bra, and could feel the urge in his grip to just take it off right then and there.

Maybe helping his urges wouldn’t be so bad, right?

You took his hand, and encouraged the back of his, allowing him to sneak under the wire and squeeze your perky tits, watching his eyes return to yours as he squeezed on his own.

There was no way you were returning to your dorm room tonight.

Next thing you knew, your bra wire was sitting right near the top of your breasts as he had leaned down, holding his head as he licked and sucked on the hard nipples, rolling one in the other hand. It was erotic, watching his tongue, marked with the scar of his curse, flicking your cute buds to make your body jello in his hands. It was extremely hot, and you knew that these panties were going to be ruined by the time you let him tear them off of you.

Speaking of underwear, you forced his head to lay next to your neck, returning his lower half to be in your grasp, and immediately got to work palming at the other. He sure was enjoying that attention, letting you fondle your smaller hand against his clothed thickness, shuttering at the idea of sitting right on it. The lewd thoughts were going a mile a minute, and you weren’t planning on stopping.

He continued to pull at your sensitive little buds as you fondled him, his breath becoming heavy against your neck as you thoroughly got an idea of what to expect- but hands wandered on his side, and you knew that his long fingers were not going to be idle much longer. His entire hand curled around your mound over your sweatpants, and the pressure in his fingertips along your pantied slit was driving you nuts.

But, with bra abandoned on the floor, he moved you with his hand still on your crotch to the side of the bed, his forehead against yours as he switched places and sat down first, then brought you into his lap.

You could tell he was not going to be rough in manhandling you, just simply moving you just to better fit his need to touch you, and the touch alone was enough to make it obvious how wet you were- and he became very aware the moment he dragged down the band of your sweatpants to reveal the heat of your pussy, throbbing with need for any kind of friction, by anything.

You could hear the hum in his throat, the holding back of a groan as he touched the lace of your underwear and found it moist, clearly satisfied with all that had been hidden before. You could feel the grind of his cock against your ass as he leaned back more into the headboard and pillows, making your torso almost barely sit up, while your legs were pulled apart so easily by setting them on opposite sides of his own knees. You were so bare, and his fingers trailing around your clit, throbbing with need, was enough to make you moan into the air, your chest rising with the lighting going through you.

“Be quiet.” The command shot through you instantly, and your mouth closed, only faint whimpers lodged in your throat managing to make any noise- anyone could hear, of course, it was late.

But no- that was only one half of the coin. The other half was being able to hear the gushing noises as he softly slapped your wet folds, just enough to hear it, and being forced to hear how needy you had become. His other hand held your jaw close to his neck, and let you cover your whimpers there. You moved your ass against his length just below, but he wasn’t done here.

One finger had slipped in so easily with all the lubrication gushing out of you, but the second dreadful finger had entered so achingly slow, pushing your insides slowly apart as he made a few experimental pumps before sinking them deep and curling, slow at first then faster and faster.

You weren’t going to make it like this. You were bound to cum, splayed out like a breeding slut for him, taking his fingers as he fucks you so earnestly, and sighs and grunts like he is fucking you, all the while not even having the pleasure to groan out yourself- only forced to hear how much your pussy needed his cock soon, and by soon, you meant thirty minutes ago, out in the hall way in the moonlight outside of Itadoris bedroom.

“Haah..” He grazed your ridges so slowly that you almost came, his thumb flicking your swollen clit too many times to count. He was too good at this.

You couldn’t handle it anymore- it was either you were going to cum here, or he would fuck you. Or both. Hopefully both.

Your fingertips grab onto his waist band and try to pull it down, but the angle is hard and you almost grow frustrated. He only bites his lip, forces your head so he can kiss you, and drags his own pants down, lifting both of you up to do so briefly.

Your first contact with his cock is when it slaps against your wet folds, the tip of his dick just brush so teasingly against your slit that you can barely imagine how you would somehow fit it in your throat eventually (hopefully, eventually, if she made it out alive.)

Now he was gasping, the mix of the delicate heat on his shaft, the wetness leaking from your needy hole, and his tiphead rubbing against your clit was even driving him insane. His hands were bruisingly gripping your waist, keeping you still as he slides up and down, shifting his hips to graze his tip all around your folds.

“P-Please, Toge-” You manage out when he gets weaker, your watery eyes and whimpering tone catching his ear immediately. “I want y-you to fuck me.”

He wouldn’t resist that kind of plea, not when he himself wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last- fuck it, he would use his curse to go longer if he needed too, as long as he was buried inside your cunt when it happened.

You felt it, instantly as the tip of his cock buried slowly into your hole, finally, stretching so good you were ready to about give up and let him take you anyway he wished. He was not going to let that happen though, you had to witness it all, how good he was laying it down.

The shaft went deeper and deeper until you felt the tip graze your delicate cervix, even with this much preparation, you still knew it was going to be bruised tomorrow morning. Fuck it, what did you care. Toge Inumaki was going to fuck you, and hearing his whimpering as he finally hit his base against your folds was like music to your ears.

He pumped it in, slowly and surely, until the pumps couldn't be timed anymore as he was, becoming steady thrusts into your creaming cunt that the hand on your jaw moved to your lips to block any noise from escaping.

God, his cock was so perfectly heavy just enough to burn your entrance as he entered over and over again, and perfectly long to make you groan into the palm of his hand as he slams it into you. It was too erotic the noise, what was the point of even covering your voice? Between his huffing and the squelching, it would be instantly noticeable to anyone outside the door.

Yet, he fucked your pussy until you could feel all the wetness gather at the base, dripping down his shaft. He didn’t even care beyond holding your mouth in his palm to conceal the noise.

But, he wasn’t done yet. No.. one final trick.

“Sit up and face me.” He whispered, and thank goodness you did not resist whatsoever to spare his voice, already so weak, you found yourself slipping his fat cock out of your needy cunt, and turning around, watching him readjust himself to look at you.

Yep, as expected. Face nothing more than a filthy reaction, dimmed and teary eyes, bitten lips, and red-got ears and cheeks, followed by cute red marks all along your neck, just enough to match your pink, toyed nipples against your pale skin, and finally, hand marks to go right along with glistening folds, already drooling all over the cock in his hand, directed right at your hole.

His hair had long since been pushed back, and his cheeks and lips were the same hue of red, his chest sweaty from bearing your heat on it as he fucked you on your back against it, and finally, silvery hair trimmed right at the base of his hard cock which throbbing and beading with precum.

“Sit on it, like a good girl.”

You had no inclination to do otherwise, feeling the tip enter you again, but this time, so much deeper than you knew another could go. It spreaded you out perfectly, watching as he got a perfect view of your hole, stretched around his dick while your tits sat prettily on your chest, hands stabilizing you on his hips.

You sat fully on it, your insides spazzing as it throbbed inside you, and you watched his face as he relished in the feeling, so completely trying to hold back from the display in front of him.

You wanted him to tell you exactly what to do- you were going to be his plaything tonight, no matter how much embarrassment you would feel in the morning, you were addicted to the idea of this man find every weak spot inside you, and letting him do exactly what he wanted.

He got the memo very fast.

“Bounce up and down, baby.” He whispered again, and your thighs moved, allowing you up and down on his shaft with ease. Even the burning in your thighs had disappeared, thanks to his order. You let his cock pump into your the first few time, watching as he tilted his head back to feel the bare heat, the friction of your ridges inside of you dragging across his head and shaft constantly.

You didn’t tire of watching him, not of him holding your hips and guiding you even though his words had done enough, not tiring of watching his eyes roll back, his mouth opening to moan aloud, his abs squeezing as he control his abdomen from reacting. It was your turn to watch him fall apart, and with all the foreplay with your tits and clit, you thought it well-deserved, if not vengeful.

You gained confidence as you rode him, hearing the slickness coat your thighs then meeting his, creating a sound so erotic it would get you both kicked out of jujutsu high, but you didn’t care when you grabbed his hands from your waist and let them grope at your tits, watching his eyes dilate with the motion of them moving in his hands. It went right to your abdomen as you felt his fingers pull at your already tender nipples.

You weren’t ever going to be the same after this- of course, you fooled around briefly before you joined the third years before Jujustu High, being a late bloomer, but this was going to be part of every wet dream, every shower spent with your fingers deep in your holes, would be about this moment, with his eyes grazing over you like he had a million things to say and command, and you're expected (and will) obey every single one, simply because he could fuck you to the point that you hoped he cummed right inside of you.

The very thought was going to make you explode, right on the base of his cock, you were going to lose all control, and nothing but his words were going to stop it.

But he was waiting for the perfect time- no, he wanted to cum with you, at the same moment, wanted you to cream right inside you as you creamed on him. He was going to make you remember this night, when you discovered all of him.

The sickening slaps had increased, and the effect of his words had worn off, but you didn’t care. The feeling of your g-spot being constantly rubbed into, fucked into, was all that mattered. His hands abandoned your tits for now, and instead, settled right on your face, and brought you down to kiss him. Now, it was his turn.

He trusted his hips deep in your cunt, and if nobody knew you two were fucking, somebody probably knew now. The dick was simply too good to even speak, feeling your lips wet with drool as he kissed you, your tongue being eagerly played with as he entered your mouth. He wanted you to go insane- he refused to be the only one.

Finally, he pressed your forehead against his, with both of your sweaty bodies rubbing together as he fucked your cunt easily with a flick of his hips, your moans and breath sharing the same space between your faces, he couldn’t resist any more. Not any longer could he hold out, now when you looked so prettily drunk on sex.

“I want you to cum.” He managed in a guttural demand. “Right now.”

The squeeze of your walls finally killed him as your racked out a deliciously loud moan turned whine, his hot cum shooting right into your clenching pussy as you leaked all over him, twitching and stuttering and faltering, head meeting his chest and neck as she came hard, right where she wanted to the most.

He holds you with both arms around your back, giving slowing thrusts into your sensitive cunt, tits and chest heaving against his as your whimper and whine, until he finally comes to a stop, and with the missing of friction, comes out his hard cock, and the load dripping onto his navel that he had buried deep inside you.

You were delirious with sex, completely and utterly spent as you panted against his chest, feeling his breath match yours so perfectly it was calming your brain down. You couldn’t stop twitching though, and you didn’t know if and when you would stop.

“Breathe..” He whispered, using probably the last of his energy to calm you down. Of course, it works, and you can feel yourself take a deep breath and release it with a shuttering take.

“Is it okay.. if I stay?”

You could hear the soft noise of him tapping a screen.

// To hang out? //

You smiled weakly, and lifted up a finger to type back.

// yes pls. //

Thank you all for reading! I had rewritten this, it was supposed to much more vague but.. i like this better.

anyways, @inumakisser and @nectardaddy this is for you pookies, i promised fr to deliver.

see ya later!

#jujutsu inumaki #inumaki headcanons #inumaki x y/n #inumaki x you #inumaki jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen inumaki #inumaki x reader #jjk inumaki #toge inumaki #inumaki toge #inumaki smau #inumaki smut #inumaki fluff #inumaki texts #inumaki fanart #jjk headcanons #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk smau #jjk fluff

[jeridandridge]

For Lovers At Night part 4

You and Melissa go on a real date. Someone catches on to her activities. words: 3454 Previous chapter

A night of pure bliss sends Melissa into the most delightful sleep she’s had in years. Lying tangled between the sheets with you running your fingers through her hair sent her into a spiral when she woke, wondering if everything was actually real. You two had stopped at some point for a break, you leaving the room on wobbly legs to get water and fruit for you both to replenish before coming back to steal kisses and more stories of each others past.

“Hi,” she grumbles out hiding her face in your neck.

“Hi, gorgeous.” You grin not stopping your movements. Waking up to Melissa’s weight against you, the smell of lavender and vanilla gave you a sense of happiness, loneliness you’d felt before melting away. Having been so career driven for so long and not really having family often took a toll on you. But now with Melissa everything was beautiful again. “Sleep good here?”

The redhead stays glued to you, her fingers moving up and down your side in lazy patterns including over the small bruises that cover your hips. “Better than I have in a long time, hon.”

Her raspy morning voice sends a spark through your body, of course she’d be incredibly attractive after just waking up. “You know, it’s really rude how stunning you are right now.”

“You already got lucky, Tesoro. No need to sweet talk me.” She hums.

Shifting gently to look at her you move your fingers to play with the necklace against her skin. “I really do like you, Mel. I wasn’t just trying to get into your pants.” You tell her softly, hoping your actions from the previous night and now could really show her.

Melissa knew that there was something between you two already. Something of real substance and feelings, not just a quick hook up. Looking in your eyes she moves her hand up to your cheek, something she’s now used to doing in such a short time of knowing you.

“Be patient with me while I get used to- us.” She whispers hoping you understand. In that moment she hates how she sounds. Scared and unsure, hoping you don’t get sick of her.

“I don’t know what your ex did to make you feel this way,” you start, “but I’m not him. How’s the quote go, ‘If your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours.’

A smile spreads across Melissa’s lips, eyes bright and full of a spark. “Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, Carmilla.”

“A queer horror love story long before Dracula.” You beam gently squeezing her hand that cups your cheek. “I remembered that quote the first night I met you. You were sitting there reading and you were so content in that little corner. I tried to find a reason to come talk to you again.”

Melissa leans forward, peppering your cheeks and lips in soft kisses with a smile still on her flushed cheeks. You let out a laugh wrapping both arms around her gorgeous frame.

Letting out a content sigh the redhead takes her place back on your shoulder, her thumb still caressing your cheek as she cuddles in not wanting to move just yet.

“Do you need to be anywhere today?” You ask quietly.

Melissa thinks, knowing she doesn’t have much to do but grade some papers and do laundry all while avoiding Joe.

“Nope. I’m all yours.” She hums meaning it in more ways than one.

“Good,” you grin. “I think a real date is necessary.”

Melissa chuckles dancing her fingers across your skin. “Last night didn’t count?”

“Last night was- amazing.” You beam as flashes of red hair and the sound of breathy moans flood your memory. “But you deserve a real date. I’m a hopeless romantic at heart.”

Lifting her head up Melissa pulls the sheet around her body sliding off the bed leaving you bare.

“Where you going?” You laugh watching her wrap herself in the soft fabric. Propping yourself on your elbows you watch her silhouette behind the divider wall.

“Your cute little kitchen to make breakfast.” She calls out finding her discarded panties and your hoodie that were thrown to the floor the previous night.

“After last night I should be the one cooking breakfast.” You laugh through a stretch, eyes going to the ceiling. Laying there hearing Melissa move around your apartment puts a triumphant smile on your lips. Getting up to find your discarded clothes you dress and come out spotting Melissa with her hair up and your baggy hoodie on her.

“You’re so cute like this,” you beam coming up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“What, with sex hair and a sweatshirt?” She laughs.

“Yep.” you grin kissing the side of her neck. This felt so natural to you, having so easily blended together in the small space.

“Careful, hon. I refuse to burn food. Mark that down.” She hums leaning into your touch.

“My apologies and noted.” You laugh slowly pulling your arms away going for the coffee pot. “You’re Italian and you cook, let me guess you make a mean ziti.”

“Damn right I do. Only problem is I can only cook for large groups of people.”

“Good thing I’m a bottomless pit. Cook away, Schemmenti.”

The morning carries on and Melissa cooks up the best breakfast you’re sure you’ve had since you lived at home. At your small kitchen table you sit talking and laughing with the redhead over more anecdotes from your life as you two get to know each other more.

“I did! I made like three hundred bucks that night too. Well, before the cops came.”

Melissa has her head thrown back, laughing in the small chair across from you. “A girl after my own heart, that was a hot spot in high school.”

“I can’t imagine how many parties were broken up in that hell hole over the years.” You laugh into your coffee cup. “I could picture a high school Melissa there.”

“Oh yeah?” She beams, “Do ya think we would’ve been friends in high school or college?”

“Definitely. If you spent time in the library or art room, you’d see me in the corner.”

Melissa grins at the mental image as she plates the food, patting your butt to go to the table. Breakfast passes by with jokes and soft touches, your fingers intertwined with the redheads when you make a suggestion for your first date.

“Pick a number, one or two.” You suggest.

The redhead looks at you with a quirked brow as she plays with your fingers. “Two.”

“Good choice, how do you feel about going for a walk around the park before the place opens?”

Melissa sits back with a grin intrigued by your suaveness. “It’s already almost noon, where you taking me, hon?”

“You’ll have to wait and fight out.” You chuckle gathering the dishes to clean up.

As you stand at the sink Melissa hears her phone chime in her purse nearby. Getting up to retrieve the device her face turns sour when she reads the name on the screen.

Joe: Did you stay the night at Barbs?

Rolling her eyes Melissa texts out a quick yes adding that she’ll be with Kristen Marie all day. She knew her little sister would cover for her.

“Anything fun going on?” You smile taking a seat on the couch.

“Nah,” Melissa shrugs setting her phone back down. “It was one of the other teachers asking about career day coming up this week.”

Melissa has always been good at lying, it’s a skill she picked up at an early age only now she finds herself feeling guilty for lying about little things like this to you.

“Hey that sounds fun, I bet a day like that gives you teachers a bit of a break.” You smile having no idea of Melissa’s inner turmoil.

“That’s also what movies and legos are for.” She chuckles. “Should we get dressed if you’re gonna take me to some mystery second location?”

“Maybe a shower first.” You smirk getting up, taking your clothes off as you make your way to the bathroom. Melissa follows you briskly, resulting in a shower that’s for sure to make your water bill high.

In the mid afternoon you find yourself walking hand in hand with Melissa to the mystery destination. As you two walk you can’t help but smile, the sun hits auburn hair just right and it makes your stomach jump.

“What? Do I look okay?” She asks adjusting her leather jacket she found herself loving once again.

“Nothing,” you chuckle, “you’re really beautiful is all.”

Melissa gently squeezes your hand smiling with her chin up just slightly. Leaning over as you two walk you kiss the corner of her lips. “Ha! Got ya.”

“Poor me,” she teases staying close to you. As you go through the park you see flowers blooming along the bishes, breaking away from Melissa for a moment you hop over to the brush to pick a purple petaled flower tucking it behind her ear.

Melissa lets out a chuckle gently touching the flower. She was in big trouble with this woman and it was more apparent at this very moment. Looking at the new person in her life she can’t help but be vulnerable for a moment with a giddy smile.

“You make me feel special.”

Slipping your arm around her waist you lean in kissing the tip of her nose. “I want to for as long as you’ll let me.”

Out in the cool spring air in the lively Love Park no less, Melissa wraps her arm around your neck pulling you into a gentle kiss. Smiling into against her lips you cant help but come to the realization that you were completely entranced by this woman.

“C’mon, let’s get to this real date.” You beam. Through the park along the street of businesses and tourist traps, you lead Melissa to a building opening the door for her.

“No way.” The redhead lets out as she realizes where you two are. “Axe throwing?!” She lights up like a little kid, practically jumping.

“Yep.” You laugh guiding her to a stool at the bar in the front of the building. “Acohol and sharp object are an interesting combination.”

“Funny, my cousin Niko says the same thing.” Melissa jokes sliding her jacket off into the seat. “It’s five o’clock somewhere right?” She asks flagging down the bartender.

After a warm up drink and signing a waiver, you stand in your caged in area in the back recording the redhead wind up holding the axe over her head.

“Is it wrong I think you look really hot with that?” You tease getting a laugh out of her.

“Don’t throw me off, Amore!”

Holding your phone up you grin watching her arms flex as she throws the axe, it landing right next to the bullseye. “So close!”

“Someone was distracting me.” She hums stepping toward you.

“Do I still get a kiss for good luck?” You tease resting your hands on her hips.

Melissa leans up obliging, giving you a featherlight kiss. “Go on, right now it looks like I’m picking our next date.”

“We’ll see about that, Schemmenti.” You grin stepping up to get the axe she threw.

“If I get a bullseye, I get to take you to the Phillies home opener.”

Melissa’s jaw almost hits the floor at the idea. “You- you wanna go to a Phillies game with me?”

“Yeah I do.” You grin turning around, winding up to throw. Melissa admires your toned arms, undoubtedly from moving books and shelving in the bar. She remembers when she met Joe. He was just out of the army and very much still in shape. Now, as a second shift firefighter his age and wear on his body showed along with the grey that was beginning to show in his dark hair.

Snapping out of it when you flight the axe, Melissa laughs seeing it go right to the red mark in the center of the circle.

“Remind me to never introduce you to my brother.” She jokes.

“Oh yeah? Does he have a thing for throwing sharp objects?” You laugh coming over wrapping your arms around her, the rest of the noise in the place now more lively, becoming background noise.

“Kinda, yeah.” She laughs resting her arms around your neck. This silly activity was certainly something she loved.

Later on in the night after a goodbye kiss, Melissa gets home around eight o’clock ready to get prepared for another week of work while Joe works on whatever in the garage.

“Hey, how was it with Kristen Marie?” He asks not looking up from the toolbox.

“The usual, gossip and backhanded compliments.” Melissa shrugs, not bothering to stop before she goes in the house, her mind still on you.

The next week goes on as it usually does. Texting occurs and phone calls when possible, and Melissa finds herself falling in love with the younger woman that’s occupied her thoughts nonstop since meeting. At the end of the week she teaches and is ready for a much needed break during career day. She was actually grateful that Joe said yes to coming in to speak to her class in the afternoon.

When the time arrives for Joe to come in, Melissa gets up going to the door. “Okay my little eagles, our next guest is a firefighter!” This gets a waves of gasps and “woah!” from the kids, eagerly ready to meet him. “Everyone say hello to Mr. Peterson.”

Joe comes in looking his best with a friendly smile for the kids. Waving, he comes in standing next to Melissa. “Hi guys!”

“Wait, are you married?” One of the kids asks putting two and two together.

“We are, kiddo.” Joe nods. “Isn’t Mrs. Peterson the best teacher,” he smiles knowing his wife loves her kids.

A chorus of “yeah!” fills the room before Melissa chuckles calming the kids down to let Joe talk to them about being a firefighter in the city.

A few blocks over, you sit in your office with a smile on your lips as you scroll on Facebook on your phone. You’d sent Melissa flowers at work, and were eagerly waiting for a text or call to hear about career day. You’ve known the woman for less than three months and it was way too soon; but you knew you were falling for her already. Sitting there feeling curious thinking about the woman that’s stolen your heart, you do a quick search looking for a Melissa Schemmenti hoping to learn more about her.

Scrolling the page your brows knit together when you see her profile picture, but with the name Peterson on the end. Maybe she hadn’t changed her last name yet is what you think. Clicking the page, you see her profile pictures, one of her and Barbara, another of her and who you guess is her sister, and a public post written on her wall by a Jospeh Peterson from only a month ago. The post shows a wedding photo in a frame and a long, tiring rant of “I’m not perfect but she loves me anyway” post that you’ve seen so many times before.

Taking a screenshot of the post and the profile, you sit back taking it all in. She lied to you. She was married still, not even close to being out of a relationship. You needed to talk to her.

“Did you like it?” Melissa smiles from her desk, Joe sat on a chair on the other side as they eat lunch together. It was strange having him there, something he hadn’t done since her first year teaching.

“It was fun, the kids are great, Melly. I see now why you talk about them so much.”

Giving him a tight lipped smile she takes a sip of her iced tea looking up when there’s a knock on the door from the school security guard.

“A delivery for you,” he ushers the man forward, clearly from a flower shop given the purple exotic flowers in his hand.

“For Melissa Schemmenti?” He asks checking his clip board.

Melissa’s eyes go wide and her heart starts to pound when Joe looks at her.

“Thanks pal,” Joe nods to the men getting up to take the flowers closing the door after.

“Joe I-“ Melissa steps forward trying to grab the bouquet.

“Who the hell is sending you flowers under your maiden name?” He asks turning the flowers around, not caring if he ruined them while looking for the card. Melissa sees it first, swiftly reaching over and swiping it away before he can read it.

Taking a breath she looks at her husband. “I need you to remember we’re at my job where a bunch of children are present.”

“I don’t give a shit, Melissa!” He fumes. “Who the hell is sending you flowers? What’s his name?”

Stepping forward he snatches the small card from her hand reading it aloud with an almost red face.

“Hi gorgeous, I find myself thinking that even a week without seeing you is too long now. To quote one of our favorites, ‘you reached in and put a string of lights around my heart.’ It might sound cheesy but it’s the truth.

Yours, y/n

Joes tosses the card down and paces running his hand over his beard.

“A woman huh?”

Melissa wants to curl into a ball and sob. She didn’t want it to happen this way. She was only happy that he had no idea who you were.

“A woman, I can’t even go kick anyone’s ass.” He lets out in a defeated laugh.

“This ended a long time ago Joe. It ended the first night you cheated on me.” Melissa stands her ground not showing any fear, finally tired of it all.

“Oh come on Melissa! I thought you were over all of that.” He tries to dismiss her. That’s when she gets angry.

“Fuck you,” she lets out in a bitter laugh. “You and I both know that every single time I found out you cheated on me I had to stop the boys from coming to kill you on the spot. I’m tired of knowing you’re fucking other women and not giving two shits about me. I let it go so we wouldn’t have to deal with the shame of a divorce, but I can’t anymore. I’m too old for this.

I met her when I wasn’t expecting it, and I definitely wasn’t expecting to have an affair. It just happened, it happened and god I love being taken care of and looked at like I mean something.” She starts to cry, her heart pounding. “For the first time in twenty years Joe, d’you know how long that is? To feel wanted and loved?” She whispers.

Joe meets her eyes, cheeks red but eyes softer now after her admission. He does nothing but look at the flowers and back at her with a nod.

Melissa stands across from him, eye makeup running and nerves twisting.

“I want a divorce.” She lets out in a whisper.

“I’ll move out tonight.”

With that, Joe grabs his keys and leaves, the door hitting the wall as he goes. Moving to her desk Melissa sits with her head in her hands, sniffling when Barb comes to her door.

“Melissa I- oh sweetheart.” Barbara rushes over engulfing her friend in a hug.

Resting her hands on the arm Barb has around her, Melissa lets out a sigh. “I did it, Barb. He found out. He found out and I did it. I asked for a divorce.”

Looking at the flowers and the discarded carb and mess on the desk Barbara rubs Melissa’s back. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Did- did these do it?” She asks nodding to the vase.

“Yeah,” Melissa sniffles wiping her smudged makeup. “They were delivered with a card when we were eating.” She takes a staggered breath trying to calm down.

“Calm yourself and clean up, text her to say thank you while I go pick your kids up from the lunchroom. We can talk later over dinner.”

Of course Barbara’s a saint, taking care of her and helping her out like the work wife she is. Melissa nods, sniffling once more as Barbara leaves to get her kids. Taking a breath she wipes her eyes and picks up her phone, freezing when she sees a text on her screen.

Opening it she sees your name and a screenshot of her Facebook profile. She can feel her heart breaking in her chest when she sees the anniversary post and your words underneath the screenshot.

We need to talk.

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #Melissa Schemmenti #Melissa Schemmenti x reader #lgbtq+ fiction

[dduane]

...So once again it's the time of year when I return to this piece of digital art (or its earlier versions), tweak it a little in the attempt to get closer to what I see in my head, and repost it for Pride. (ETA, 3 June 2024: image tweaked a little bit more via late-night re-render because the upholstery wasn't rendering correctly, and as a result the kitty sort of vanished. Which would not be at all her style...)

At the moment I'm looking at These Two Idiots (for so they are) and considering with the usual bemusement how long I've been working with them. Of all the characters I've worked with in print, the only ones I've known longer would be the crew of NCC-1701—and very shortly now, for the first time as paid writing, a couple of gentlemen named Holmes and Watson.

I first "met" these guys in late 1970 in the form of the fellow college students on whom they'd be based: a couple of gents (not gay, as it happens) who were friends to me when I needed some. They were a tall dark guy and a short blond one with a mustache that came and went... so that, not even knowing the word "trope" at the time, I fell headfirst into one.

Less than a year after I met them, I changed educational tracks and schools, and we all drifted apart. But something about them stuck. The nature and depth of their friendship was unusual. So was one way it manifested itself: in ruthless snark that had no meanness or cruelty about it whatsoever—just affection.

In the late sixties I'd begun writing some very derivative fic strongly influenced by Tolkien. Rather to my surprise, though, as I started nursing school in 1971, the nature of that fiction started to change, and began rearranging itself around two characters who had a friendship like those of my college friends. With them as its core, a rather different kind of medieval-ish fantasy world started knitting itself together from various scraps of themes and imagery lying around in the back of my brain.

Even so early in the construction phases of this world, something the characters quickly made plain to me in the writing was that their relationships with one another were not what mainstream 1970s culture would consider conventional. They were gay... but that was a background issue,* and not at all the most important thing in their lives. They had far more important business to deal with—as became clear as their personalities and priorities started filling themselves out in the foreground.

One of them turned out to be the deliberate, analytical, methodical son of a provincial nobleman, all too aware of the expectations of those around him: that he might well eventually wind up running that province himself. Yet at the same time he also became aware that he had other problems, chief among them the discovery of a nascent power that would kill him young if he couldn't master it. And in the last thousand years, no one of his gender ever had.

The other presented himself more and more clearly as a difficult case: someone who wanted very much to be good at the family business, but wasn't... and knew it. Kind of a screw-up, repeatedly doing the wrong things for what he was sure were the right reasons. Yet, no matter how often he screwed up, he was also the kind of person who keeps picking himself up and trying again, because he's been told over and over that that's what people like him have to do: otherwise they're no use to anybody.

Imagine my shock when I realized that these two men—initially canonically enemies in their adolescence, then best friends as they grew, and eventually much more—were the (incomplete) answer to the question I'd once asked my Mom at the end of the bedtime reading of some fairy tale or other: "Why can't a prince rescue another prince?" Because one of them got himself more than once into situations where he really needed one kind or another of rescuing. The other one obliged him, while once or twice getting rescued himself. Those interlocking patterns started to solidify out of concept and into character detail and plot, while their world grew and proliferated into its own detail around them.

Then, without warning, in 1978 both world and characters decided they were ready to get real. I was abruptly dragged gasping and flailing under the surface of a novel that would begin the tale of what those two characters had yet to become. The period it took to produce that first draft was possibly the most interesting six weeks of my life... and that includes the six weeks during which I first scrubbed in on brain surgery. Day and night, for days at a time, I barely even existed except as something for a novel to come out of. When it was done with me, it just as abruptly dumped me back into my life and wandered away, leaving me staring around, blinking and wondering if anybody’d got the number of that truck. Nothing like it has ever happened to me since, which may be just as well. I’m none too sure that these days I could handle the strain.

The book—which sold a couple of weeks after it landed on its first publisher's desk—kicked off my career as novelist and screenwriter, and in its way proved that the world was at least somewhat ready for epic fantasy in which the basic culture was pansexual, polyamorous, and inclusive in ways that hadn't been attempted before.

So I owe them a debt, those two gentlemen up there: the tall dark curly-haired guy with the amateur strategist's mind, the blacksmith's shoulders, and the peculiar sword, his background thought always nibbling away at the question of how to heal the world's wounds: and the short fair gent who if he could would stay at home, live quietly in town, and work in the local library... except for when saving the world (or his found family) requires him to subsume his being into that of his ancestral demigod. Due to the success of the book in which they made their debut, these two became, in their way, the fairy† godfathers of the Young Wizards—and additionally enabled all that Star Trek fanfic I'd started writing a decade before to proceed to its logical conclusion.

More to the point, though, a lot of people in the 1980s and '90s who'd never seen queer representation in a fantasy novel, found it first, or at last, while following Herewiss and Freelorn down their road. It's been my pleasure to hold that space for new readers, and keep adding to it... because (if you ask me) it's needed more now than ever.

So, to the readership of the Middle Kingdoms works—now pushing half a century old—and everybody else who's celebrating the season: happy Pride!

*Not least because everybody else in their world is (at least potentially) some shade of queer, including God.

†(snicker)

#Pride #Pride 2024 #Middle Kingdoms meta #Herewiss #Freelorn #LGBTQ #LGBTQ fantasy

[elvenbeard]

Old and Happy

😭 my feels have been all over the place since I finally finished this! Don't even remember when I started, as I kept working on and off on it over a couple of months. But I think it was after writing something particularly angsty and going "you know what, they will get their happy ending though, so it's all good".

Some details and thoughts below the read more cause it got long hhhh ;A;

This is in about 2087 maybe, roughly "ten years later". Vince changed his hair, ditched the rattail for good (or again xD) for something still colorful but a bit more easy to style. But he might change it up again, he's done so repeatedly and still likes to experiment with his hair.

Not visible, he probably would've added some elements to his back tattoo after surviving all of 2077. Johnny's tattoo he covered up as well, he would've done that first probably before the back piece. Adding some things here and there over time, with colors and patterns and wings, some cherry blossoms ('cause a thing of beauty will never truly fade away - hence just not getting laser removal but covering it with something that suits him more, but keeping some elements like the J and V visible). It started with three roses below the "V" as a little homage to Jackie, and 2077 as the year that finally put him on the right track in his life, even if it almost killed him in the process.

Overall he is a healthier weight than he was for most of his life, and finally got some therapy he desperately needed to deal with all the crap he went through pre-2077 already. He's not dyeing his first grey hairs because hell, that he's even still around to get some is amazing with his line of work and life story. And he realized that there's no need to be super well put togeher 24/7, clean shaven and whatnot, when you know you're just gonna be hanging out with your man and cat all weekend (and actually allowing yourself to something like that - leisure time and pizza in bed, unheard of to 2077!Vince). He's doing good and feels good and comfortable, physically and mentally.

Kerry also changed, also embracing the dad bod over abs, probably still experimenting with his looks a lot now and then whenever the label feels like they need to draw attention to him for whatever reason. But to the brown eyes he returned in 2078 already in my headcanon for the Sun ending timeline, and he stuck with them.

Overall I think he might finally care a little less about other people's opinions too, the buzz and the drama, cause he knows that at the end of the day there's always gonna be someone waiting for him at home who loves him unconditionally. He's a bit calmer and at ease, but of course still up to no good whenever he gets the chance to stir shit up xD Vince and him remain to be a dangerous duo you don't wanna mess with. At that point Vince is a well-respected, even if somewhat elusive, fixer, so he's probably even more dangerous now than he used to be as a mere merc with an arsenal of connections and resources at his disposal that can almost rival Kerry's.

I also gave Kerry a lil new cyberware piece on his hand - he is an old man and I think, using his hands as a musician on the daily, at some point there's just gonna be some wear and tear to your bones and joints only tech can fix anymore... Especially if you're stubborn and refuse to retire cause no, you're not done yet, you still have so much to yell into the world and music to make, stuff to add to your legacy and all.

Last but not least: Nibbles is an old lady already as well here, but living her best life with her dads spoiling her rotten, of course!

And then öalkshjdfagsdföasgdfaösfh ;___;

Y'know, "to bad decisions" and all, and two very different pieces still fitting together perfectly somehow, and light and shadows, and the sun and moon and yeah. ;___; Brb crying, the feels are back xD

Thanks so much for reading if you made it this far!! They mean so much to me and aösdjhfajsfhasfk could go on forever about every little detail xD On to the next drawing!

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #Cyberpunk2077 #cyberpunk fanart #cp2077 fanart #cyberpunk 2077 fanart #kerry eurodyne #kerry eurodyne x v #cyberpunk v #male v cyberpunk #masc v #otp: to bad decisions #art by me #screaming crying öakjshdfaasdfasfdhf #already been yelling on discord about trying to put everything into words for the past few days xDD #now I finally did it

[inkdragonworks]

June Update

Breaking the chain of not updating to talk about what I've been working on. As the absence of Poppin & Jupa here can tell, I switched projects back in April, to an older one I worked on for about 8 months in 2022. Main reason was feeling dejected a bit after the animation didn't do as well as I was expecting; been getting the impression that Tiera is more popular than them with folks lol.

Again I won't be cancelling it, or never working on PnJ, just switching focus so I can stay productive and make something that feels fun for me, which this has.

------------------------------

As a refresher, here's the game I've been picking at:

The game's current design can be broken down into:

intro sequence to introduce Tiera and the setting

initial puzzle + encounter to introduce the main mechanics

large hub in the form of Fragaria Park where you avoid the main threat, collect items, interact with side attractions, and access the 4 side areas

4 side areas, which have their own puzzles/challenges within with a primary goal at the end that progresses you towards the final escape

optional collectibles Since April I've worked on a part of the large hub, 3 of the 4 side areas, and the optional collectibles.

"Who works on optional stuff before the main game is done" well they play off of the main mechanics but mainly it's an excuse to draw something cute instead of programming.

These are Anna Banana and The Fruit Friends (Also Strawberry), characters from a cartoon show that Tiera likes (Except Strawberry).

They don't play any significant role/impact in the game (Besides Strawberry), but they reveal part of Tiera's interests, they form a small bit of the world's background, they make for fun type of collectible that gives something to do besides the main puzzles, and, again, I just felt like drawing cute shit.

------------------------------

For the hub, I worked on a themed side area dedicated to a playground. This does have puzzle elements in it, but a lot of it are silly interactions, and a reference to that cartoon I did a while back. Maybe you can recognize it here.

It's one of those "makes the setting feel more realized/fleshed out" deals.

------------------------------

For the side areas, what I've mainly been doing is settling on their exact design, blocking out the areas, and working on their puzzle sequence, obstacles, and any single screens that are tied to it.

Here's what I mean by "single screen":

Something that cuts away from the main game to it's own puzzle. This one here is for the performance theater. All graphics are placeholders just to get the logic in and see if it might work.

Making these type of puzzles is fun cause it reminds me the most of Resident Evil 1 and various flash adventure games I've played.

As for obstacles, a significant one I'm playing with for the theater is darkness, making use of Tiera's sonar to detect a safe path around deep pits.

She won't fall off right away, but it's tied to the same stamina system.

------------------------------

Another side area are the sewers, everyone's favorite video game setting. That obviously involves water, but the trickiest thing about it has been dealing with really complicated patterns of depth changing.

What that means is Tiera climbing up and falling down a lot, and trying to keep track of that. Here's what that looks like without proper graphics:

I'm very happy with how the area is turning out so far though, it's something you'd get to later and I think the puzzles do a good job of reflecting that progression.

------------------------------

The last side area I've poked at was the final sequence of the game. I've had a lot of different ideas of how to go about it but I think I'm happy with the set of them I have planned, something that builds up towards the climax and building off of what was set up in the rest of the game.

I wanna be careful about spoiling it, but here's one effect from it I've started work on:

------------------------------

I'm trying not to overshare here, though there's a lot more I've thrown into my server that I couldn't here. One of the side areas I haven't gotten to really pinning down is the Hedge Maze. I have a basic outline, but the main obstacle involved requires more dynamic logic. It's hard to settle on what that logic should be without set level design, and it's hard to settle on level design without knowing the limitations of that logic.

It's a similar issue with the main challenge of the game, both for the player and for designing: the ghosts.

What's intimidating is the feeling that they need to be very deliberate in this type of game, to balance between adding tension without veering into frustration. I'm hoping tackling everything surrounding them will make me more confident, but odds are I'll have to start with something simple and half-broken just to break the ice. And accepting I'll have to make something that gets thrown away, which I'm not used to doing... I really prefer thinking through stuff first before making it.

Anyway, thank you for reading.

#my stuff #monthly updates #tiera #escape from fragaria park #strawberry #indie game #game dev #dev blog #game development

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Walls

Gonna forget about spoons for a moment and will be focusing on "walls" for a while.

@mod-doodles pointed out something that got me thinking yesterday (thanks btw!)... that Syd puts up walls and that she freaked out when they took down the walls without her knowledge on top of that I ALWAYS felt that this scene below had a deeper meaning than what met the eye but could never really figured it out completely. I knew there was something about walls going on, just couldn't quite put my finger on it, till now.

Syd and the walls

I already went over her G woman complex here and here, so the fact that she puts up walls around her heart, is no surprise, but the irony of being the one who literally brings the walls down as we can see above, and freaks out when others do too, that has more layers. Let's get into it then:

Syd is the one who has to tear the walls down, that's her role.

When I say walls I'm talking about her own, and Carmy's.

They both have walls they hide behind, he has his long list of walls and she is the Wall Queen. OK.

But Carmy's role in their dynamic is reactive (to her), and hers is proactive. She initiates the actions, and even when he proposes, he doesn't actually go through with it without her.

For instance: If Syd hadn't been on board with:

Carmy would have given the money back to Cicero or put it in The Beef, but he wouldn't have gone through with The Bear on his own.

The only exception is Claire, with whom he also plays a reactive role, btw. I got into it → here.

Carmy will not charge against Syd's walls, he will do everything else, sometimes even overdo it (S3), but he will always respect her walls. If she doesn't bring them down, no Sydcarmy action will ever take place, as I mentioned here.

Syd is the one who brings down the walls of whatever obstacle they face. When she hit a wall in S1 and they had no gas, she brought down that wall:

When things got heated with the gangs outside the restaurant and Cousin was ready to fire his gun, she brought down that wall too, with sandwiches and charme:

There were more cases I could point out in both seasons, but let's fast-forward to the biggest wall she has torn down so far:

When Syd hits a wall, she tears it down. Except Carmy's.

That's a pattern breaker right there. When a pattern breaks (when Storer breaks a pattern he created), there's something there. We need to dig deeper.

They are both trapped behind the <disfunctional> self-protection walls they built themselves. That's painfully obvious.

My point is: In order for Carmy to have some maneuvering room to make his move, she will have to tear down her own walls first. Otherwise, due to his reactive nature, he won't go for it, he will die on the platonic hill even when he knows <post panic attack> he's way past that.

Syd sets the timer here

In the meantime, Carmy sets the stage for her to finally let him in at some point. He will do whatever it takes for her to let him in sooner or later 🌟

Disclaimer: I'm not 100% sold on Chef's Tables theory yet, TBH, it does sound plausible though... however, I'm more inclined to believe that spoons are the metaphors we need to pay attention to, and I will definitely dive into that theory later on (soon). But I just liked the GIF and it fits.

#gingerpovs #SHE HAS THE KEY #CARY WAITS #sydcarmy #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #syd x carmen #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear #sydney x carmy #carmen berzatto #syd adamu #carmen x sydney #walls #spoons

[francesderwent]

I’ve been on a real Fearless kick lately and it always makes me feel some kinda way about Olivia Rodrigo’s body of work. and not even primarily about her and her talent and her songwriting, just about how different an experience it seems to be growing up as a young millennial woman versus growing up as a young gen z woman. take the total absence of any jealousy/self-image song on Taylor’s debut album or Fearless—because social media wasn’t this omnipresent perfect image factory and so the insecurity of growing up looked more like “Place In This World” or “The Outside”, fundamental experiences of questioning and longing that are deeply connected to our humanity, as opposed to “jealousy jealousy”, “pretty isn’t pretty”, or “lacy” which are founded on an obsession spiral that is literally only possible on that level because of the invention of the smartphone.

look at “Tell Me Why” or “Other Side of the Door” as opposed to “vampire” or “logical”—Taylor’s approach was a very straightforward “you acted this way and this is how it made me feel." it wasn’t until later that she started to make statements about patterns of behavior, because she simply couldn’t see them except in hindsight! she couldn’t say “this is what kind of man you are” or “this is what sort of relationship we had” until she had fully processed what happened—which is when we get songs like “Fifteen” and “Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve” and “The Manuscript”. but because the younger generation breathes the air of pop psychology buzzwords, Olivia is diagnosing her exes and labeling her relationships right away. and you might say this is a good thing, that young women are armed with terms like “gaslighting” and taught to be suspicious of age gaps because of the power differential. but having the knowledge doesn’t seem to have protected Olivia at all. she still makes all the same mistakes, there’s literally a whole song all about knowing something is a bad idea and doing it anyway. she still dates the older guy, but then she has so many labels readymade to explain why it didn’t feel good that she doesn’t ever actually get down to saying how it felt—because I don’t think she knows. the younger generation acts like processing an experience means figuring out what tiktokified sound bite applies to it and then slapping the label on and moving forward. “my parents were emotionally abusive” “my ex was a narcissist” “my ex best friend gaslit me” etc. but it seems to me that’s skipping some necessary stages of actually processing your shit. “vampire” is Olivia trying to write “Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve” before she’s ever written (or felt) “Tell Me Why”. it’s the difference between “here’s to you and your temper, yes I remember what you said last night / and I know that you see what you’re doing to me, tell me why” on the one hand and “went for me and not her ‘cause girls your age know better” or “master manipulator, you’re so good at what you do” or “you convinced me it was all in my mind” on the other hand.

and another side effect of this, the big names in this younger generation of artists aren’t really writing love songs, and I don’t think that’s accidental. they literally do not have the vocabulary to do so. the psychology buzzwords that go around are all about toxic relationships and red flags. and so, deprived of a way of thinking about being in love, the love songs either fall flat (“I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American”) or they simply don’t exist. the open-hearted sincerity of a “Hey Stephen” or “Jump Then Fall” is nowhere to be found.

#so many disclaimers: I know body image crap predates the smartphone. magazines existed etc. #but you can’t tell me it isn’t exponentially worse and more pervasive now #I also know that tell me why and wcs are about different relationships (obviously) but I think the point stands #and there are some song on guts that are more sincere. for sure. #making the bed and the grudge and scared of my guitar come to mind #but I think she’s so desperate to sound smart and grown-up that she has to put in every song ‘I know what I’m doing! I know what this is!’ #when most of the time it would be a better song if she wrote it from an honest place of not knowing at the time #this is me admitting I need a music tag

[sasster]

Respite

Uhm, I’m gonna post some not fantroll writing here okay? Because Kurt told me to. Okay. Thank you for understanding, I hope you like it :) [doc] — After the liberation of the people of Aeilur, Qei’eleritte was delighted to find that they were still interested in a diplomatic relationship with the Cardali. Though the threat of war with the peaceful giants was always nonexistent, he’d been worried that they would be uninterested in allowing the mingling of their worlds after the conflict. And that would mean there would be no opportunity to explore their planet after all was said and done.

But that isn’t the case, thank the Gods of both Aeilur and Cardalith. He makes a mental note to learn more about the former’s theology and creation myths later. For now he sits, just as he promised himself in the heat of battle, at the base of something that might be a tree but he doesn’t know enough about to make a judgment on. It juts out of the ground, swaths of fur growing up and down its length, like a giant fuzzy limb that curls as though reaching for the orange alien sky.

A pleasant aroma wafts off of it, one that he thinks smells somewhere between an orange blossom and a rose bush. The curious plant has become his favorite of what little he’s seen of Aeilur in his first visit. He will ask someone for its name.

Qei sits there, not in the green star pattern of his natural form, but shapeshifted into the form of one of the pacifists that call Aeilur home. They resemble bipedal pachyderms and this form of his, though unique to him, was no different. The most uncomfortable part of the transition was the second pair of arms that burst forth from beneath his shoulder blades. He stares at this new pair of hands, covered in a thick brown coat like that of a wooly mammoth, and expels a breath out of his new trunk-like proboscis.

This action results in a good natured trumpeting, something that he recognizes as a satisfied hum in his natural form. The sudden attention to his trunk reminds him of the pair of sisters he saw wrestling earlier in the day, their trunks undulating between them in a taunt when they weren’t grappling.

He tries to mimic the action with little success. The taunting must be more subconscious, then. Or perhaps only some are capable of doing it on command.

As he stares at his new pair of hands, he presses the other pair into the soft fur of the tree behind him. It gives little yield and his hands fully sink in. The furs bristle into little pricks, but not painful ones, before his hands find the spongy surface of the tree. This interaction causes the flowery aroma to become stronger. He closes his eyes and leans his back into the tree, and sighs out another good natured trumpet.

It never ceases to amaze him, getting to experience a new world through the eyes of a people that were built for it.

Just in front of him movement causes his eyes to snap open. The line of trees, similar in size and fragrance to the one he has his hands pressed into, rustles gently and part to make way for an elder Person of Aeilur that, if he stood fully, stands a head taller than him as he is. She would be much taller if he were to assume his natural form. She is clearly older by the way the tip of her trunk curls back in toward her body, opposed to the loose display typically sported by the younger members of the populace. It is a much tighter, almost arthritic hold that curves her trunk.

The other tell is the way her thick sea of tan fur is interrupted by flashes of silver and white streaks, primarily along her arms and across her head. From her head sprouts, uncharacteristic for these gentle giants, twin braids that swirl a good deal of of her longer graying furs down the left side of her face, past the round lobe of her ear and drawing attention to the string along her neck that holds four small tusks close to her chest. The longest of which with a point that stops right where her first set of arms begin. He figures these are from children or grandchildren.

She stops when she sees him, clearly having not expected to find a stranger in this clearing, and he makes quick work of getting to his feet. Then he lowers his head to her with one of the hands from his lower set extended to her, palm up. A show of respect he both read about and saw with his own eyes when the sisters he watched play were wrangled in by an older male.

This elder female closes the distance between them and unfurls her trunk to tap his palm gently, signifying her acceptance of the gesture. When she takes a seat beside him, he pauses before joining her.

“[I must be honest with you],” he starts in her language, but she cuts him off with a quick trumpetting before her trunk recurls.

“I know you are a visitor,” she says in galactic standard, much to his surprise, that does not fit properly in her mouth. “You can stay as you are.”

Qei nods and sits, once again allowing his hands to press into the trunk of the tree.

A sound like a hum vibrates her trunk.

“You like the jam tree?” She asks, reaching a hand to pet the tree's furs.

“Jam tree?”

“That is how visitors call it. It is good for making jellies,” her amused trumpeting does not end, further mangling the standard that does not fit around her tusks. “Here we call it Ahmhavar.”

“Ahmhavar,” he echoes the localization of what could be translated as ‘perfume tree’. “I can speak the Language of Aeilur. If you wish.”

“I can use the practice in standard.”

“Very well, I am Qei’eleritte,” he offers, butchering his own name in the process. The language of his people fits as well in his mouth as the galactic standard does.

“That may be too much for me,” she laughs and it is influenced by the pitch of her trumpetting. “Will you accept the playname of Ahmhatet? Unless you have already been named by one of mine.”

“Perfumed visitor?” He muses.

“You cannot deny its accuracy.”

He laughs too, soft and low in comparison to hers. “I accept Ahmhatet as my play name.”

“Good, my home name is Gihaiya,” and he thinks it is very special that she would share her family name with him, indicated by an inquisitive head tilt and trumpeting on his part. She waves the unspoken question away and continues, “But my play name is Eyha.”

“A pleasure, Eyha.”

Eyha nods her head in acknowledgement, but turns her attention back to the direction she came from. “Were you with the visitors that helped my people?”

Qei grips the tree behind him a little more firmly than anticipated and feels the fur on his hands mat with from the stick sap that is urged from the spongy base. The smell of rose and orange blossom intensifies significantly, which is not unwelcomed. He’d almost allowed himself to forget the disgrace to Cardalith that Falarittus and their scheme to take over Aeilur were.

He sighs and his proboscis produces a sound similar to a deflating balloon.

“I was there, yes. I ended his cruel game myself.”

“In that case, maybe you need a hero’s name, too.”

“I was only cleaning up a mess I let happen. Someone like that should never have been made to look after any lands. Much less did they deserve a paradise like Aeilur.”

She trumpets again, this time a chastising sound, and he lowers his head. “No. It matters that you helped make it right. The mehi does not fly from its nest before it is ready.”

“Yes, of course.” He acquises while also making a mental note to find a resource that will tell him more about the avian species, of which Aeilur houses many, she referenced.

A moment of peace lingers between them and before they can continue their conversation, something that sounds like a small stampede comes rushing in from the direction that Eyha faced. Qei guesses that it must be some smaller Aeilurians scampering towards them and then steps from someone much larger lagging behind.

Three children of Aeilur pop into the clearing, two younger ones chasing after the larger one, and each letting out delighted high pitched squeals when they spot Eyha.The two smaller ones had similar tan coats to Eyha, the older one’s coat was closer to black.

They waste no time piling into her lap.

 “[Now, now, little ones. Did you leave dad behind?]” She chides, lifting each one of the calfs to press her forehead to theirs one after the other and setting them on their feet again. 

“[He moves too slow!]” The largest of the three protests and the other laugh along with her.

“[Of course. This is my new friend,]” she gestures to Qei. “[He is a visitor.]”

The two small ones suddenly develop a touch of shyness, as though prior to this they simply did not register that a stranger was present. The oldest one moves in close and raises her trunk to him.

“[I am Hajiya! That is my play name. Do you play?]”

“[I do play, Hajiya,]” he replies, lifting his trunk in greeting as well.

“[What do they call you when you play?]”

“Ahmhatet.”

“[Because you smell good?]” And she follows up with a laugh, something akin to a giggle snort. “[Will you play with me, Ahmhatet?]”

Qei looks to Eyha who nods her encouragement. “[You will have to teach me your games.]”

“[We will! Come out here Heiha and Hafrahe. Lets teach the Visitor Ahmhatet how to play!]”

The smaller two run out again and rush Hajiya, causing the trio to tumble over into the grass where they begin a playful wrestle, Heiha and Hafrahe clearly having forgotten their shyness in the meantime.

After a short while of watching them tumble around, Qei offers a feeble, “[I may not be able to keep up with that energy,]” that Eryha laughs at and the children seem to ignore, having moved on to what appears to be a game of tag that sends the trio zigzagging about the clearing.

“You never want to tell a calf, much less a group of them, that they have too much life to keep up with,” a new voice offers in standard from the direction the rest of the family entered from. “They will use the information against you.”

This newcomer’s coat is darker in color, closer to the shade of Hajiya’s coat, and much shorter to the point that some of the pinkish skin beneath can be seen from certain angles when the wind blows it. If Qei has to guess, he would say that he and the man are around the same height and age group.

He sits directly near Eryha.  “Or do you not spend much time with children, Ahmhatet?”

Qei takes a moment to think about this, coming to the conclusion that no he does not get to see many children in his line of work, but before he can gets a chance to voice that observation, he is rushed by the small gaggle of calfs, who elect to climb all over him as their first order of business.

#coko writes sometimes #long post #qei #uhmmm #yeah! #<3 #thank u for reading if you do…… #i’d appreciate thoughts…. BUT NO.. PRESSURE!!!! #hehe i just ahd fun writing it

[felikatze]

oh shit is ddd just one giant subversion of CoM

#feli speaks #it's a repitition but it's a subversion too #sora following those who seek to manipulate him in a vain search for answers out of a refusal to let go #riku chasing after sora but being so sure of himself he's not misled #except in ddd riku actually makes it #in CoM riku is too late. sora's already asleep and his memory is already twisted #but in ddd sora is saved in the nick of time #and like. this means something right. this is a pattern? #not just because ddd is the second game to feature a sora/riku route split #it's the second time they're so close yet so far and riku makes it in time #and i'm just. thinking abt the setup for kh4 #it's like #it's familiar is all. third time's the charm?

[astral-schools]

enjoy your stay!

#w101 #wizard101 #w101 fandom #wizard101 fandom #dasein #sal art #finally did a full-body piece of his post-canon fit for his and aedan's verse! #in their canon things go a bit differently at the end of novus #which means wallaru doesnt happen #so for a while dasein just kept his Pajamas Form (the blue smokey one) #but i decided that was more of an interim look than anything else and he needed something a little more permanent #and made this one! #right side crystal-esque pattern of his outfit is mostly based on the aeon armor #as is the blobby bits on his sleeves (which move!) and his rings (which mimic the gems on the hands on the back of the robes) #(since as far as im concerned he created the aeon gear and the hands are meant to be him literally 'having our back' so theyre His hands) #left side is based on both his canon post-wallaru fit as well as the gmod missing texture pattern #its a little too small to see but he has a collar chain that's got little eyes as the pins :] #he keeps the blue-grey color but gets his wings back and also isn't constantly shifting anymore #and he also keeps the old one's converse those are a permanent fixture-- #the little eye fellas are like scouts/messengers and let him keep track of multiple parts of novus at once #without getting too overwhelmed #sighhh i could talk about this guy forever #one day i'll actually finish his and aedan's fic

[sainamoonshine]

Me, reading the Watch books: ahaha highly competent protagonist man who is a huge simp for his wife

Me, reading Going Postal / Making Money: hold on

#is this like a pattern or something #I mean if it is then right on! #in this house we love and respect wifeguys with an embarassing crush on their own spouses #discworld #going postal #making money #discworld the watch #moist von lipwig #sir samuel vimes #his grace sir samuel vimes duke of ankh #sam vimes

[countess-of-edessa]

the thing about taking advice from anyone on tiktok or instagram including catholic and christian type influencers, parenting advice, relationship advice, etc, or internalizing any stories of horrible relationships and betrayal people tell on those platforms, or reading about all the ways interpersonal relationships can end horribly and be cycled through extremely quickly on those platforms is that you are necessarily then consuming the thoughts and experiences of someone who is willing to put their face and name on a public social media platform to talk at you. and like 1% of those people have a good reason for doing so and the other 99% are completely unhinged. so everything you’re consuming has first gone through the filter of "is this person weird and insane enough to make Instagram reels of themselves crying?" and if the answer is yes maybe their advice doesn’t apply to your life because you’re a normal person who would not do that.

#i don’t know if this makes sense but it’s something i was thinking about today #not that i really live my life according to Instagram reel advice but as a human being when i see something stated as fact i naturally seek #out the parts of it I believe or compare it to my current worldview #and when that person seems to have a lot of “clout” for discussing spiritual things….idk sometimes I’m like wait is this true? should i #believe this? and other times I’m like well is this a real pattern of behavior that can be observed in many people from different walks of #life including my own? this thing that all men do or all women do or the way all couples will eventually behave #this makes it sound like i am constantly on social media consuming hours of content which im really not #I’ll be on a train and scroll a little bit and something gets stuck in my craw #but with me I’m always like am i rationalizing this away because i don’t want it to resonate? #and I think in the case of anything on social media the answer can almost always be no #because im like wait. why would i take advice from someone who has a public Instagram account #im not saying a stopped clock isn’t right twice a day but really how much of my perspective and life experiences can they share in #when we have this totally totally mismatched worldview #(i mean this also applies to basically anyone offering any type of life advice who isn’t catholic about that) #(but when they are Catholics doing this that gives me slightly more pause for obvious reasons I’m like we are on the same team though?) #(and we are but only kind of and i do not have to listen to you because being an Instagram influencer is still cringe in 99% of cases.)

[wawamouse]

also, i like his little outfit in this.

#text #he's always got a fun little outfit on in the shows #granted he seems to often play gangsters so it's frequently an expensive-ish suit #theyve put that dude in every pattern known to man #he was wearing JORTS in curb your enthusiasm #yes i have entered the phase where i just idly watch everything an actor has ever been in. IN MY DEFENSE IT WAS FOR GIFS #and otto sanchez has a much shorter filmography so i started with him #idk if i'm going to watch 12 monkeys for kirk tho that seems like a committment #i tried to watch band of brothers a couple years back and i got to like. episode 2 i think but idr anything #but yeah if i go through otto's stuff first it'll be easier to see if there's anything that'll match up #whenever i do this for ppl i wonder wtf they do when they're not acting #i mean i think otto sanchez is a content engineer so that's interesting i guess #solid fall back tbh #(now before i look insane let me just say that the information is not that difficult to find) #i think ymx does like... advertising or #something in marketing/modeling still #i'm fully talking to myself right now. #midnight rambles with wawa ig

[akkivee]

i think it’s………. interesting ig that kuukou’s clothes have been progressively getting darker

#vee queued to fill the void #see i wanna just brush it off lol like damn not everyone has colour symbolism like ramuda lol #but like hitoya has colour symbolism lmao #and sasara in a sense does as well from his mcd outfit being a solid colour to his subsequent fits having patterns now that he’s with rosho #like there’s too many instances where the clothes and colours symbolise something to just brush it off so 😠😤 #right so what could it mean lol #hhhhhhhhh maybe it’s kuukou’s tendency to help behind the shadows #his pre nb fit the one with the black sukajan i think would be comparable (kinda) and while it wasn’t covert #he did help ren and then was determined to take it to the grave #he helped jyushi in harmonious cooperation by making sure that bully didn’t sabotage the stage and said he was just a monk passing by #and this might be a little strange lol but kuukou in fantasy event chose to be a ninja which are shadow assassins #so this could be kuukou further going into the shadows to support #he’s becoming the void like his name suggests and i don’t mean that ironically lol #‘the void state between the end and the next beginning’ that kuukou’s name comes from is what i mean lol #and as the buddha is in all things and guides us all is what kuukou’s heading towards #maybe!!!!!! idk!!!!!!! i’m just trying to not get worried like usual lol!!!!!!!