#/ i've been meaning to write this out for a WHILE

[marsprincess889]

Yoni animal observations

I did something similar with nakshatras. This is them in a very simple way. This is based on traditional associations as well as my own observations of real life and art. 💕 The word "yoni", as well as meaning the female reproductive organ, also means "origin". Yoni animal represents the instinct of the nakshatra and ultimately, reveals its true core nature.

Also, disclaimer: it's very sad that I have to say this, and apologies if you're not one of those people, but if you're going to correct anything in this post by writing one or more long paragraphs of why you think I'm wrong, you might as well just start your own blog or make your own post about the subject. I've been observing yoni animals for years and I'm kind of sorry if any of this offends you, but I'm not trying to attack anyone personally, or even a specific placement (nakshatras in this case), cause that's just dumb. Of course, everyone is free to express their opinions but please do it politely and have some respect for the person who took their time to gain and share knowledge. It's very easy to correct others, it's very hard to be faultless yourself. So, factual corrections are always welcome(say someone got someone's chart placement wrong, or they have written a factually incorrect association, like if they were to write that Jyeshta is fierce as opposed to sharp/cruel in nature.), but, once again, everyone's view is different and so either respect mine or don't write anything at all.

With that being said, you can now enjoy this post💕

Horse yonis

Ashwini and Shatabhisha

Keywords: activity, simplicity, masculinity(solar/yang), independence, healing.

Straightforward people. They might tend to have black and white thinking, can be very blunt with their delivery and definitely prone to "deafness": not hearing others' views. Simple and utilitarian, goal-oriented. Their presence might not be really noticed until the moment they suddenly speak up about or act on something. Love to point stuff out. Either quiet or very precise while speaking. Not aggressive but can be combative. Most likely will oppose someone before making peace. Independence>sharing. Don't like anything "unnecessary", love to get to the point.

Elephant yonis

Bharani and Revati

Keywords: slow, authority, time, timelessness, strength, transitions, protection, completion, gentleness, complexity, depth.

Not revealing their innermost selves, only revealing it to a select group of people, if to anyone. They attach meaning to things based on their experiences. Protective and gentle with each other, closed off to most of the others. Very private. Not really concerned with trends. Observant but not quick to act. Can have many sides to them that some others might fail to understand. Have an air of wisdom, but not that of arrogance. Still, they are the most likely to knowingly take the high road but still protect their peace, making them very exclusive, although it's never for show. Defensive but quietly so. Accomodating to some degree on the outside, there's always more to them than what's obvious. See the bigger picture in every situation. They have a certain quiet strength and power. Nurture is important to them. Do not appreciate unnecessary aggression and try to dominate over anything they consider harsh/crude.

Sheep yonis

Krittika and Pushya

Keywords: precision, structure, minimalism, choosiness, contained.

Do not like excess in anything. They have a sense of balance, usually in almost everything. Prioritize sctructure and basics/essentials. Like clarity and clear-cut lines in their lives and around them. Can be snappy, but in a passive-aggressive way. Not harsh in a heavy/overwhelming way but still harsh about details. Have a soft demeanor with strangers and acquaintances, sometimes even people close to them in everyday life but can judge them quietly. Neutral to friendly on the outside, but if they have uncomfortable emotions they try hard to release them quietly/without much fuss. Might bottle up resentment in result. Very utilitarian and practical.

Snake yonis

Rohini and Mrigashira

Keywords: enjoyment, ease, materialism, basic awareness, growth, progress, sensory indulgence, instincts.

Very placid and calm. They focus mainly on material things but can live without luxuries, and can also share them, although privacy is very important to them. Very aware of their surroundings and their own presence. Attuned to their senses. Can get easily attached to people and things. Can exhibit selfish tendencies(or that's how it looks to others) when they feel like their desires are ignored, but Rohini and Mrigashira each do it differently.

Dog yonis

Ardra and Mula

Keywords: upheaval, critical point, rebelling, release, change, anchoring.

Tense but not frail. Might look tortured sometimes. Do not like to and probably even cannot focus on details, at least not how it's traditionally done(different to each situation). Like to display their individuality in one way or another. Dark humor or sassy comebacks. Either quiet or very loud, but either way, opinionated. If they're neutral then they're opinionated about being neutral. Can be kind of nihilistic but at peace with it. Contrarian and unapologetic. If they don't care about something you can't make them care. If they do care, they care intensely.

Cat yonis

Punarvasu and Ashlesha

Keywords: accumulation, buildup, purity, safety, protection, preservation, cycles.

Concerned with what influences them, not so much what they put out. Self-focused but also highly aware of others' needs. Can adapt to surroundings and can change their behavior based on what they need or really want. Not unkind but laser-focused on the boundaries. Always keep their cards close to their chest, not out of malice but simply to preserve their safety. Look more unnaproachable than they really are, and know more than they share with most.

Rat yonis

Magha and Purva Phalguni

Keywords: dispersion, creativity, planting seeds, the self.

Can be egocentric. Prideful and nonchalant. Love to show off. Might be aware of surroundings to some degree but even if they are, they rarely care. Getting what they want is the priority, along with self-expression. Not very moralistic, don't care much about labels. Sometimes they can be too detached. Will almost never catch them crying in front of others, although they can be dramatic if they want and can, without a problem, attract their dwsired attention. Their happiness is more warm and generous than loud and euphoric. Might have a poker face, they rarely show strong emotions. The strongest emotion I've seen them express is that of defensiveness, and that's not even an emotion. When they get defensive it's almost always because something has touched their pride or triggered their ego. Focused on what they can do.

Cow yonis

Uttara Phalguni and Uttara Bhadrapada

Keywords: stability, the long-term results, natural, softness, power/influence, unity, calm.

Stubborn. That's the only defense they have, because otherwise they're very soft. Naturally honest. They have an effortlessness about them that feels easy to be around, and they are pleasant to be around but not accepting of everyone. They avoid people they don't like from early on and stick to the ones they consider better. Not hesitant to defend themselves or people close to them, but not quick to waste that energy on just anyone, and when they do become defensive they still maintain "the high ground". Backing their allies and fighting proudly is natural for them. Again, very stubborn, so they rarely, if ever, give up on something important. Although they're tough, they're not sharp or cruel. They are mostly in a state calmness and assuredness rather than anxious defensiveness. Very fixed and comfortable in their ways.

Buffalo yonis

Hasta and Swati

Keywords: materialism, gain, comfort, strength, feminine(yin), ease.

More attached to material things than other yonis. Individuality is defined through connections and surroundings. Love comfort and ease. Interdependence>independence. Can be curiously neutral and accomodating. Self-focused but not selfish. Often phlegmatic and slow. Genuinely caring but can be cunning. Not the most direct people. They will let others know their views but won't push them aggressively on others. Almost everything about them is filtered through that neutrality.

Tiger yonis

Chitra and Vishakha

Keywords: building, gradual, defensive, expression, buildup.

The most defensive. Can look sweet on the outside but are not all soft. Can range from extremely forgiving to extremely vengeful. Aggression comes out while speaking. Rarely, if ever, present in a state of calm melancholy. They moreso go from happy/fun to agitated. Focused on development/building, and always look for more than what's natural for them. Witty but emotionally so. If they're highly agitated, it's very hard for them to exercise restraint in the moment. Not that direct in general but unfiltered during critical moments. It's easy for them to put on a mask, whether out of neccessity or just for fun. Can be very judgemental. If they're not aware, it can make them act in a "mean" way when they feel not their best.

Rabbit/Deer yonis

Anuradha and Jyeshta

Keywords: society, organization, status quo, responsibility, transpersonal, maturing.

Very non-aggressive on the inside, despite how they might look. Naturally have endurance and a sense of responsibility. Can be judgemental but also understanding. Love to give advice. Competitive but respectful. Can become arrogant. Love everything "classic" but want to establish their own, new structures. Choosy and sometimes exclusive. More warm than they appear, and capable of more emotions than how it seems. Often traditionally intelligent. Have a very civilized behavior.

Vanar yonis

Purva Ashadha and Shravana

Keywords: flow, alliances, connections, support, creation and preservation.

Good at reading between the lines, anything too structured is harsh for them. Otherworldly aura/mannerisms. Most likely to posses what others might consider as "quirks". Value their own individuality and uniqueness. Seeks to be different from what they consider boring, normal or basic. Not very reactive. When they get defensive, they get quiet. Can romatisize sadness and melancholy. Capable of seeing both sides but are often willingly biased.

Mongoose yoni

Uttara Ashadha

Keywords: independence, solitude, practicality, victory.

Truly neutral and unbothered. Value honesty and integrity. Not attached to material things at all. Easy to be around but their regal nature might put some people ill at ease. Naturally take on leadership positions. Might feel lonely but won't trade solitude for tiring/uninteresting company. Value practicality and simplicity, and are practical themselves. Surprsingly warm and feeling in certain moments, but can also be uncaring towards others.

Lion yonis

Dhanishta and Purva Bhadrapada

Keywords: notoriety, flashiness, power, aggression, pride.

Very unfiltered and loudly so. Unashamed and bold, proud. That pride and confidence fuels their calmness, but they can lack patience. In everyday interactions they can look very unreactive but if something "triggers" them, they will not hesitate to be a little(or not so little) aggressive. Love to spread their influence. Might strongly dislike anything that looks subtle and quiet to them, as it arises distrust in them. Rarely, if ever, use/appreciate sarcasm. They prefer directness. Can slip into being a bully, or can become a proud voice for others.

[leclarifies]

forgive and forget (CL16)

✰ charles leclerc x reader ✰

summary → dating a formula one driver meant that your boyfriend would always be busy, but what you didn't expect was for him to forget your anniversary all together.

genre → angst but gets fluffier towards the end (very short drabble, self-indulgent)

word count → 1.3k words

author's note → honestly, i really like writing angst with charles, i'm sorry dahbdhanda. i just needed a break from writing something with any sort of plot, so enjoy <3

the thunder in the background snapped me from my trance, i've been lost in thought for awhile now. the sky's dark and the day was almost ending, and here i was sitting at the dinner table, alone with food all around me.

the rain was drizzling in monaco, and it fueled the sinking hole in my chest. i knew that charles was a busy man, but i didn't expect him to forget our anniversary together.

somehow, i didn't feel sad, or disappointed. i just felt numb. it hurt of course, seeing your own boyfriend forgetting about your anniversary, something i thought that we would both celebrate together, spend the day together, or maybe just sit in the quiet of our apartment, kissing and touching and ending the day together.

but the fact of the matter was, he was a formula one driver and i couldn't keep expecting him to be there when i wanted. it was a selfish want, and somehow i needed to understand that not all anniversaries can be celebrated, and not all of them will be remembered.

a sigh escapes my lips, i've been waiting for him to come home for four hours now. maybe it was time to let up. i gently took the plates of now cold food and shuffled into the kitchen, putting them into containers to store in the fridge, not wanting them to go to waste. i had lost my appetite in the process, not even touching my own plate of food.

when i was finished putting all of the food away in the fridge, the door of our apartment jingled, charles was home.

"amour, i'm home," his voice had rung out in the apartment as he entered our shared apartment, even though i felt upset, i couldn't help but smile at him, at least he came home, right?

i was never the one to yell, to throw a fit when he forgot about something. even if it was something as important as our anniversary, i always wanted to talk it out, even when it made me upset and charles would always appreciate it, he would always talk to me lovingly even when we had our arguments.

"you missed our anniversary, love," i told him gently as i walked up to him, wrapping my arms around his middle before leaving a kiss on his cheek, his face flashed from surprise to frustration all in one go, he closed the door behind him and sighed, he was angry at himself for forgetting, i could tell. the way his brows were furrowed and his shoulders tensed.

"i-... amour, i'm sorry. things have been hectic, the car is just so shit this season and i didn't mean to—"

i cut him off before he could ramble on about his work with a soft kiss to his lips, "it's okay, i'm not mad at you. i know how things are at work and i understand, i just feel a little hurt that you didn't call or text me at all," i explain to him and he closes his eyes before wrapping his arms around me, he held me close.

i could smell the faint scent of his cologne as we held eachother close, the domestic aspect of it all. waiting for him to come home, cooking dinner for our anniversary even though he forgot.

"how about i make it up to you?" charles asked as he opened his eyes back up, the pretty green orbs of his eyes staring lovingly into me, staring lovingly into my bare soul, "what do you want to do?"

"can you just drive me around in your noisy car?" i laugh as he smiled at my joke, all of his cars were sports cars and they were noisy by default. i had always complained about it but i could never be mad at his love for his team, "just spend the night together, driving in the dark of the night while we sit in each other's company."

charles pressed his forehead against mine, he breathed in before nodding, "i can do that for you, do you want to go now?" he left a kiss on my lips before i nodded.

it wasn't long before i was in the passenger seat and he was starting his car up, i hadn't been in this car yet. i knew that he got it as a gift for his win in austin, i had attended the race and he had excitedly told me about the car once we got home in monaco but i never got the chance to sit in it until now.

"this one is a bit noisier, amour. i apologize," charles had said when the engine rumbled to life, i had settled into the seat as he drove off into the night of monaco, his phone had connected to the bluetooth automatically and his playlist was in the background, serving good ambience in the car.

"i love spending time like this, just the two of us, not really driving to anywhere meaningful," i had spoken up, breaking the previous comfortable silence the both of us were in, charles glanced at me before humming a response, eyes back on the road shortly.

monaco was a small city, but i noticed that charles had taken a particularly familiar track, it was the monaco grand prix track, where he had won earlier this year.

"i'm sorry," another apology leaves his lips, i turn my head to look at him, he didn't have to apologize. i forgave him after he got home, but i appreciated it, "i should've paid more attention, i know how important dates are to you. i should've set a reminder."

"i told you that it's okay, i'm not holding anything against you," i tell him softly, his hand instinctively reaches out for my knee and i let him, setting my hand above his as his thumb gently caresses my knee.

the both of us had spent most of that night going in circles, going on the familiar monaco track, it was almost 3am when charles had decided to go back home. the night drive we spent together was nice, it was peaceful. i loved it.

it wasn't long after the both of us had settled into our apartment, getting ready for bed.

i had sat in my vanity, just doing skincare with charles opting to sit on the floor, his head laid on my lap as i went through the steps for my night routine, my hand periodically going down to pat his head.

"we can go for dinner tomorrow, i have nothing planned," charles mumbles, leaving a kiss on my thigh, i nod, dinner was fun, considering that today's was left untouched.

i could feel his head lift up from my thigh, so i looked down and i saw him staring up at me, with all the love in his eyes, i just smiled at him, "what's wrong love?"

"nothing, i just... i'm sorry. i feel bad. i love you— i love us. i just can't believe that i could forget our anniversary so easily like that," charles mumbled, i pet his head again, i had told him countless of times in the car ride that i didn't hold any ill-intent against him for forgetting. his job was demanding, and something like that could've easily slipped his mind.

although i did feel hurt, he's trying to make it up to the best of his abilities now, and that's all i could ask for.

"how many times have i told you to stop apologizing?" i had told him before standing up, he did the same and the both of us made our way to the bed, snuggling up against eachother.

my head was against his chest and his face was in my hair, softly breathing in and out. i could tell he was tired but still went out to drive with me anyway.

"i love you, amour."

"i love you too charles."

"let's go to dinner tomorrow, okay? i'll make it up to you," charles pressed a gentle kiss onto my forehead and i could only hum back in return, i had my eyes closed and i was close to drifting off to sleep considering it was nearing 4 am at this point.

"okay, goodnight. sleep well."

"goodnight to you too mon amour."

[gimmick-blog-reviewer]

WARNING: GIMMICK BLOG REVIEW AHEAD

Gimmick Blog: @hazard-symbols-that-fuck-hard

Gimmick: Posting pictures of hazard symbols, accepts submissions.

Gimmick Rating: 9/10, while it does definitely appeal to myself and many tumblr users, I'm sure there are many who would be largely unimpressed. However, within its niche I think this gimmick is excellent. With how fragile our lives are, I imagine there's no end to the hazard symbols one could find. Many of them, in an attempt to shock meaning into the viewer, come across as "hard as fuck" or "fucking hard". A gimmick to capture these symbols is a unique and interesting idea. As of time of writing, it is tied for the highest rating given to a gimmick.

Blog Rating: 8/10, largely dedicated to the gimmick but occasionally features non gimmick posts. Even among the non gimmick posts, many are related to the gimmick, though there's enough that aren't for me to care. For instance, HSTFH's tarot and poker decks. If someone were posting about their tarot and poker decks on a gimmick blog you might assume they're just shilling a personal project but HSTFH is much more reputable than that. Hazard Tarot and Hazard Poker are not only impressive art, but also topical to the blog. Even the... porn (which I will not link directly to for obvious reasons), featured on the blog is tangentially related to hazard symbols. However, HSTFH posted some stuff about the election and telling people to vote. While I imagine we have similar politics, and I would normally support such things, I don't believe politics should feature on gimmick blogs.

Overall Rating: 8.5/10, the highest score ever awarded as of time of writing. Hazard Symbols That Fuck Hard is in my opinion an account someone could only run on tumblr. It's unique, it's cool, I've been a fan for a while and I have been considering buying its hazard tarot and poker deck designs as those are things that fascinate me. I always keep an eye out for interesting hazard symbols so I have something to submit someday. Until then, I will wait with anticipation for the account's next post.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hello 👋 if requests are open do you think we can get another of The Summoned Demon? I've never seen a take on Danny being misunderstood and speaking a different language after a summoning and I'm really excited to see where you wanna take this. If not don't worry about it I have a vivid imagination hahaha

Take care of yourself man, this is also your mandatory water and food break ❤️

Danny runs for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, attempting to find the exit of the caves. This would be easier if he could go ghost, but for some reason, his powers were disrupted when he tried to change into Phantom back in the cell.

He didn't know how, but the weird lights had messed with his core. It was almost like an invisible hook had attached itself to his navel. The thing yanked his power into the floor and walls, causing them to explode.

Thankfully, when the strange writing had vanished, a bit of his strength had returned, allowing him to tear through the stone bars. He couldn't go ghost, but at least some of his powers were accessible.

He had super strength, night vision (which would have been really helpful the day he was kidnapped!), and a few energy beams. It could be a better skill set, but if needs must. If only his Phantom stamina could transfer over.

Right now, he was using Fenton Stamina. There was a reason he was failing P.E. It showed how he was gasping for air, kneeling by one of the stone walls.

"Must...huff...find...exit....huff huff....escape!" Danny pants, attempting to crawl forward. "Must....check with a doctor about possible asthma...leg cramp! leg cramp!"

It wasn't going well.

Danny grips the meat of his calf, curling into a tight ball and silently screaming at it. The pain is annoyingly rippling across his whole body, causing his muscles to tense to the point he can only sit there and wait for it to go away.

All the while, he was mentally swearing up a storm.

After a few minutes, the muscles relax enough for him to feel some relief. Slowly unclenching his hands- afraid that if he got too quickly, the pain would return- Danny stretches out his leg. The ache is a distant echo as he slumps against the stone.

"I'm going to die in here," He whimpers. "I'm going to die from a kidnapping cult that thought it was a great idea to wait after my math test to take me."

While Danny wallows in misery, two glowing figures flout out of a nearby wall. A woman who looks to be wearing an outfit straight from the pilgrim's age and a man who may have once been a gentleman in the early ninety-thousands.

Danny's eyes widen at the blood staining the woman's head and dress. It's evident from the crack that runs along the right side of her skull. The man, meanwhile, looks more normal if it is not for the way one of his legs is twisted sickeningly.

"This one is young, " says the woman, shaking her head in pity. "It looks like he hurt his leg."

"I know how that feels," the man sighs, flouting until he is mere inches from Danny's face. "It doesn't seem he's been down here for long. Maybe there is hope someone will find him before the starvation hits."

"What do you mean starvation!?" Danny yelps. The two glowing people flinch.

The man gapes at Danny. "You can see us!?"

"Yeah? You're ghosts, right? I'm part ghost on my mother's side." Danny jokes, only seeing the woman cross herself before doing a slight hop and pointing at him with clear disgust.

"Witch!" She stretches, dragging out the syllables. He a bit impressed by how she puts her whole chest into that yell. Hell, he's even a little envious with how low she got her voice too.

"Not now, Mary," The man hisses at her. He reaches to touch Danny, but the boy avoids the contact, afraid of being overshadowed. That earns him a smile that seems oddly approving. "It's nice to meet you, lad. My name is Harold McConnell; I was an explorer attempting to map out Gotham's caves when I was separated from my crew. I broke my leg in the dark and starved to death. This is Mary, no last name. She and her family were moving from different American colonies when they passed over Gotham, and their carriage fell when the ground gave way. She died upon impact."

Dang, okay. Harold is oddly forward. Danny knows most ghosts are well aware of the specter's unwritten rules: Never bring up another death or share yours until a deep bond has been made.

A bit flustered Danny placed a hand on his chest, ensuring his fingers were spread so that they know he was a friendly ghost. He was not after their haunt or territory. "I'm Danny Fenton. Yesterday I was kidnapped by a cult from my classroom. They had me in warehouse then in a stone cell in a near by cave I escaped them but ended up gettng lost."

Marry lowered her hand, eyes wide. "A cult brought you down here?"

"Yeah, and I'm afraid they will find me," Danny mutters, looking over his shoulder. He can't see or hear anyone, but that does little to reassure him.

Harold's face tightens. "There are many monsters in this city."

"We can show you the way out," Mary offers, flying closer. Danny does his best not to stare at her gruesome features. It would be vulgar. "Does being half ghost- or a witch- make it possible for us to carry you?"

Danny blinks. "I think so, but I can walk-"

"Nonsense," Harold grunts, reaching out and lifting Danny from the floor. He throws him over his shoulder like he was picking up a flour sack. Danny squeaks. "Goodness, I forgot how it felt to hold something. I miss this."

Danny starts to protest, but Harold merely bounces him with a laugh, twisting around where Mary is flouting. "Onward!"

Mary smiles, floating alongside them. "We can go through the west caves to where my skeleton is. There is an opening that should lead to the center of Gotham's suburbs."

"Good idea, Mary," Harold compliments, flying right behind her at a much faster speed than Danny's running. "Listen, lad, we can't leave the blasted caves, but we can stare through openings. The suburbs are the safest place for you to pop out of."

Considering that his only other option is a mad group of cultists, a kiddy pool of blood, or a full ghost status from being lost in the caves, Danny doesn't mind.

He is saddened that they are anchor ghosts, though he suspected as much from the way neither had noticed his Infinite Realms mannerism. It means they are doomed to only wander the areas of their death, forever trapped in their sudden and abrupt demise.

"Thank you for helping me," He says, staring down at his hands. He can see the ground past him back, aware of the way Harold's muscular arms wrap around him without any warmth but not lacking in kindness. "I wish I could take you with me."

"That's a sweet thought, little one witch, but it's alright." Mary says, "We've come to terms with our fate. We even found love."

Danny peaks at her, noticing how adoring she is regarding the ghost, and she can't help but smile. "You two are together?"

"Aye. Mary comforted me in my final hours." Harold responds in a voice as fond and adoring as Mary's: "She was my reward for how I perished."

How romantic.

"I hope I find love like yours," Danny tells them just as they round a few corners and come to a deep drop. The remains of a carriage and five skeletons rest at the very bottom, making him heartache for the fact she had likely been alone with their bodies for centuries.

Mentally, he makes a pack to come back for the bodies and give them a proper burial—once he has his powers, of course.

"I pray that you do," Mary says, keeping her gaze away from the pit. She points upwards to a whole in the cave's ceiling, a few streaks of light peaking through. "Up there, my love."

Harold obediently flies upwards, twisting Danny so the boy's back is to his chest and his hands are supporting him on his bum. Danny's face turns red. "Sorry, lad, but something is covering the exit. I can not touch it, but you should be able to. Kick it until it breaks. It should only be a few layers of grass."

Danny coughs. "I'll try my best."

He kicks upwards, pressing himself into Harold so he has more leverage for throwing his legs upwards. They make contact with a heavy thump, his super strength giving him an edge.

"Donkey kicks, lad!" Harold shouts, "Both legs, nice and even."

He pulls his legs back again, putting more strength into his second kick. It shakes the ground above him as bits of dirt fall through, and the light streaks grow. Danny's legs go through once, twice, and on the third kick.

Danny cheers as the ground above him collapses, falling into the pit below. It's a reasonable-sized hole, just big enough that he will be able to squeeze through, but thankfully, the rest of the ceiling seems sturdy enough that he won't accidentally cause a sinkhole.

"Good job!" Mary cheers, clapping her hands. Harold lets out a deep and joyish laugh, helping Danny straight up by holding his waist and lifting him up through the hole.

He struggles to keep Danny upright when Mary swoops in, lacing her fingers and supporting Danny's feet. Her added assistance allows the ghosts to push him upwards, away from the darkness and into the light.

Danny rises from the ground with a laugh so cheerful he doesn't think he's ever been this happy to see sunlight, even when it blinds him.

It takes a couple moments to adjust his eyesight, stepping out of the ghosts' hold onto solid ground, but he can smell the sweet grass below his feet. He hears the tender psss of a meat on a girl. The alluring aroma of hotdogs-

Wait a minute.

Danny's eyes finally come into focus, and he stares into the faces of a surprise family just about to sit down for a BBQ. His eyes find the face of a very familiar teenage boy looking increasingly horrified by the second.

"Hey, you're the cult pants guy!" Danny shouts at him, twisting around to look down at Harold and Mary. "One of the cult sacrifices is here! I think he escaped, too!"

"Solitary!" Harold yells back, "You have more strength in numbers!"

"I don't know how he can help me since last time I couldn't understand his language- oh! Er, hello?" Danny looks down to where the teenager is once again, clinging to his feet, babbling in his fast-paced language. He presses his face against Danny's leg, rubbing himself there, and the Halfa is quick to try to push him away. "Dude! Dude! Personal space!"

"My word!" Mary calls up, scandalized. "Danny, will you force this young one into being your bride?"

"What!? No! Wait—" Danny looks back at the scene where Mary is once again making that same disgusted face while Harold is offering him a thumbs up and an eyebrow wiggle. "You can understand him!?"

"Yes, can you not?" Harold responds.

"Not even a single word. Would you mind translating for me?"

"I can let you know what he is saying, but I'm afraid the living won't be able to hear us." Marry cautions, sounding strangely apologetic and relieved in the same tone. "He's attempting to bargain for his family's lives in exchange for being your bride."

"Why would he assume I even want their lives or him!?" Danny yelps, finally untangling himself from the teenager and putting in some much-needed details. He makes a x with his arms, hissing when the other guy makes a move to follow him.

"Hard to say. He's not making a lot of sense- it's just pleas for a bargain.," Harold shouts, speaking louder now that Danny has moved away from the hole's edge. "It is best to put some distance between you and him."

"But what about you?"

"Don't worry about us; we've been here long enough. Escape while you can and be safe!" Mary yells over the cries of the rest of the family, who seem to have finally snapped out of their daze.

Danny looked at the two adults, the one pre-teen and a crying five-year-old, and decided he did not want to stick around for more screaming in a language he could not understand. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Harold, Mary!"

"You're welcome!"

"It was a pleasure lad!"

Quick as a whip, Danny twists on his heel, racing for the fence and leaping over it. He's suddenly grateful for all the times he would sneak into Tucker's house as he clears over the wood in one smooth tug up and over, hitting the ground running.

He ignores the cries of the other humans behind him as he sprints down the surprisingly lovely suburban street.

___________________________________________________________

Jack Roux's hands shake as the demon disappears from view. He thought Batman had a handle on the cult and was free. But obviously, that wasn't the case.

When the ground first started to thump, he thought their garden had a mole or something, only to have his blood turn to ice when the ground gave way. Rising from the ground was the very demon that he had seen only two days ago.

His mother quickly ran to his side, wrapping Jack in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. His dad stood in front of him, likely wanting to be a shield between Jack and the demon. His little siblings crowed around crying in fright.

It had come back for him, even though he had assumed it was kind and likely was going to go after the others.

If I had been alone, Jack thinks, thankfully his father's quick thinking and fast-paced prayers had scared the thing away in time, I would have been taken again.

It's a bone-chilling thought.

[koolades-world]

this piece is based off this post, which you can find here. I had heard it as an audio at first actually and fell in love with it. it's kind of essential for this read. it's basically talking about how before their loved one guessed their favorite color was yellow, they didn't have one. after that, yellow was special! sooo cute and i though luci fit in perfectly as the speaker!!! if you were tuned yesterday for my solomon birthmarks fic, this is two out of my four ideas! i had one more in my drafts that i decided to throw in for fun

so so excited to write this. so fluffy!!!

the color of happiness

"Don't forget about your coffee, Mc." Lucifer nudged the cup towards you, acting as a gentle reminder of it's existance.

"Right, right. Just let me finish this thought." You were laser focused on the paper you were in the middle of planning. You were desperate to get all the thoughts out before you inevitable got distracted and forgot everything.

"I don't mean to dissuade you from your schoolwork, but it's getting cold." He chuckled at your half assed attempt to wave him off.

"You can just reheat it with magic." You stuck out your tongue ever so slightly as you scribbled.

"And what if I can't?" Lucifer was practically enchanted with your little mannerisms.

"You can and would. I know you. You'd find a way to make it happen for me." Despite how smug you sounded, he knew you were right. He'd jump through however many hoops as he had to for you.

There was no coming back from your words, so he went back to his own work. By the time he'd restarted, you'd stopped for a break, and were ready to bug him.

"On that note, I feel like I know so much about you, yet so little at the same time." You held the mug in one hand, the other underneath your chin as you gazed up at him.

"What prompted this?" Lucifer set down his pen despite just having gotten back to work. He'd felt like the two of you knew each other quite well. You'd been through thick and thin together, even defied death at each others side.

"Let's play twenty-one questions!" You ignored his question. Perhaps you just wanted an excuse to hear his voice.

"Alright. I can't say I've played before, but I know of it." He found himself smiling again, as he often did around you.

"It's easy! We just ask each other questions to get to know each other better."

"Which one of your brothers is your favorite?" You asked. He hadn't been expecting such a hard hitter of a question at first

"Must I answer?" He joked.

"Come on! Alright, then which do you hate the least?" You suppressed laughter.

"Do not shout this from the rooftops, but, Mammon." He already knew how'd you'd react, but he still found himself amused when you inevitably did.

"I knew it!" You celebrated, throwing your arms in the air. "Alright, your turn."

He absentmindedly messed with his gloves. "What is your favorite part of human world?" Lucifer had thought hard about that question. You seemed too enthusiastic about the entire thing, and he couldn't help but cave.

"That's an easy one! The sunrise. I would almost never wake up in time for it, but it's so beautiful." Your eyes sparkled. He made a mental note to plan a surprise trip to the human world for you. "I've actually been dying to know the answer to this next question for a while now."

"Oh? Ask away then." Lucifer was curious. There was a lot a human could want to ask the Lucifer Morningstar. You already knew his story, but there was a lot to be asked about what the Celestial Realm was like, or what having his power was like. But instead you asked him,

"What's your favorite color?"

The question hit him like a shot to the heart. He should've known you weren't interested in anything but him, for who he was. For once, he didn't know the answer a question as simple as that. He'd never really given it though. Maybe it was red? It was the color of his eyes, and the color of Diavolo. Maybe it was blue? That was the color of his sin. Maybe it was black? Everything he bought seemed to be in that color. Or, just maybe, it was that he didn't have one.

He floundered, his thoughts much more chaotic than what he let on. "Oh, wait! Let me guess!" He nodded, despite not knowing how he'd respond. You pursed your lips, deep in thought, when you burst out with what you thought was the answer.

"Yellow! It's yellow!" You placed a hand on his arm, eagerly awaiting his answer. You looked so full of joy, that somehow, made the answer seem correct to him.

"You're right." Lucifer nodded his head in confirmation.

"Knew it!" You threw your arms around him, pulling him into a side hug. After the inital shock, he hugged you back. "Yellow was already the best color, but now it's even better since it's your favorite too." The rest of your game, and break flew by.

But he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. How could he had been so blind to a color he saw everyday? After that, the color held a special meaning to him. Not only was it the color of his favorite brother, and the color of your favorite thing about the human world, it was also the color of you to him.

Yellow was never the same after that.

The runny yellow yolk of the sunny side up eggs tasted that little bit better. He wasn't upset when he saw a yellow ball of yarn roll out from Satan's room. The yellow umbrella you carried around always caught his eyes, and so did yellow devildom equivalent of roses he passed every day on his way to RAD in a way they hadn't before. He promptly bought them and presented them to you when you arrived after him. The smile you gave him and the way you buried your face in the flowers meant the world to him.

Yellow suited you.

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

I know that some people in the Wings of Fire fandom complain about how Tui based the IceWings on tiger moms (a stereotype commonly applied to East Asian mothers) and I know that that and the model minority stereotype for Asian-Americans that is common in American media is terribly containing and reduces an entire community to this monolith of mean parents and unhappy, but high-performing children, but I personally like how IceWings are based on my group, even as much as the stereotypes hurt me. You may write this off as dumb, but it's possible to feel proud of something similar to your culture being depicted while disliking how your culture is seen in the media.

When I read about the IceWing experience in canon and fanon, I feel seen. It's probably due to the fact that I've only found one or two books starring East Asian protagonists that I personally feel show the experience I've grown up in and am used to, and even overall AAPI month tends to get overlooked on the social media I use (tumblr). Now I'm just wofbrained enough to project on fictional dragons because they've been based on a stereotype that gets applied to my community. You'd think that I need to touch grass and search for more books, but I'm happy that IceWings and I have something in common.

Nowhere else do you see the portrayal of feeling both locked and contained in the identity that everyone else has imposed upon you, and so has your community, and so has your parents, and so have you imposed on yourself, but also proud of it when the concrete results come in, all the As, all the comments that you're high-performing. There's the portrayal of feeling that some aspects of that identity are something to be proud of, but there are also the darker parts that you know are bad: the bigotry (where parents say the racist things out loud, straight to your face), the constant competition, the empty feeling from complying with your parents wishes and the fact that you've been doing it for so long that you don't even know your own. There's the feeling of always being inadequate in comparison to your peers. There's the feeling of occasionally wondering what it would be like to not be part of your group, and just be happy with Bs and be able to have a social life and actually hang out with friends outside of school.

While people say that Tui made the IceWings stereotypical as hell, I like what she did with her IceWing protagonists and other characters. We see Winter, who lost his family, but can do what he wants as a scavenger researcher, which is something that feels like a realistic possibility in my community- pursuing your dreams, but losing familial support. But, he can follow his dreams. We see Crystal, who ran away to be with Gharial, a MudWing, and it's reminds me of how falling in love with someone that you community says you shouldn't have but being happy with them is possible. There's Lynx, who reminds me of the classmates that I should have competed against, but became friends with instead. There are all the Caribous, who show the more fun parts of IceWing culture outside the palace, where IceWing dragonets sing and read and listen to stories and eat together, which shows that the IceWings aren't a monolith. There's Glacier, who genuinely loved her daughters, even though she was likely distant from them as a queen, which shows how beneath the strictness, the love is there, even if it's not apparent at first. There's Snowfall, who's from the younger generation and wants to change things for the IceWings. While Tui initially wrote the IceWings based on stereotypes associated with East Asian-Americans, her IceWing characters show how they're much more than that. To me, that reminds me in a way that we student, second-gen children of East Asian immigrants are more vibrant and faceted than how media paints us (emotionless, uncreative, studious, deferent to authority, etc etc).

Now, I'm going to say that not everything that IceWings do is what Asian-Americans do. I haven't heard of anyone making their son kill the other one to regain their status. Given how people like to reblog these confessions and openly address the anons with their disagreements and this ask will probably get a bunch of accusations directed at it that weren't part of my original intention, I would like to reiterate that this ask is my personal opinion as one Asian-American out of the 19.9 million+ of them here. If you personally disagree, please direct me to all the way better forms of representation that I know are out there but can't find so I can stop projecting on fictional dragons. Someone wrote on tumblr how what's empowering to one person comes off as demeaning to the next when it comes to representation. Thank you for receiving my confession that wouldn't do well at all off anon. That is why this blog is here.

.

[machineheraldbabe]

viktor, a messiah inverted.

arcane season 2 spoilers throughout.

I have a plethora of thoughts on Viktor's strictly season 2, act 1 arc so far and I'd like to get them down in writing before act 2 drops. without a clue about how this evolves in future acts, I'd like to unpack the ways in which arcane has painted Viktor not as a simple Christ-figure, but an inverted messianic figure in just 2 tight episodes.

important note: i'm speaking strictly in terms of literary/film analysis. as you'll see, i'm taking an archetypal angle and won't be evoking any true discussions of faith in this post. i would never want to offend anyone of any religious beliefs, and i hope the secondary source i bring in helps clarify my meaning <3

Lit scholar and professor Robert Detweiler, writing in a very old (1964) but useful article about Christ figures in American literature, defines 3 manifestations of such symbolism: the disguised biblical christ; the christ figure as "mythological archetype;" and the christ figure as a symbol. i'll be using the second definition, the archetype, which he defines as the following:

“He can be the redeemer on the supernatural level who mediates between God and man or the culture-bringer on the natural level who introduces people to a better life " (115).

*In general, when I'm talking about a Christ figure (which I'll then invert in Viktor's case), I mean a fictionalized account of Christ's experiences and teachings, in whatever way they can manifest in the corresponding literature/story.

Arcane is very heavy on archetypes, and this version of a Christ figure is the most divorced from any distinctly biblical iterations that would hinder an analysis like this one. This definition then invokes 2 main questions: who is the God, or the transcendent, in Arcane, and what is the "better life?" I argue the following: the transcendent would refer to the arcane itself, as it's the only larger than life force we have to work with at this point in the series; the "better life" is the healing Viktor is offering shimmer addicts. Culture-bringer makes Viktor into a bestower of the knowledge the he was "granted" from above (time away from Zaun, time spent enduring the Hexcore). His "descent" to the undercity represents a "mission" of spreading that knowledge and healing. All that, combined with a stunningly on the nose visual rework, he's got the full Jesus-Christ-Allegory package.

But I just don't think it's so black and white!

They've altered an otherwise one-for-one replication of traditional, overdone Christ, messianic allegories into an eerie perversion. I've broken that down into 6 main points...

An Unwilling Resurrection

As Viktor states very obliquely to Jayce, "I was supposed to die." 1x09 all but closes with Viktor telling Jayce to allow him to die by promising to destroy the Hexcore. With his time running out, Viktor resigns himself to his own death; he would even have something of a legacy, as pointed out by Heimerdinger.

But Jayce wrenches him back to life. Whereas a typical Christ figure, in Detweiler's view especially, would have this resurrection spring from a transcendent divine will, Viktor is fighting against said will. He rebukes the life that's been re-thrust upon him. So, while it may be a Christ-like resurrection on the surface, it's far from it in intent and impact.

A Concealed Crucifixion

Viktor's physical positioning is very similar to that of a figure nailed to a cross, sans the fully outstretched arms, in this full-body shot. Yet, whereas a Christ's figure's demise would most likely be displayed as a testament of that character's sacrifice, Jayce has concealed Viktor. He lets only his most trusted confidant, Mel, witness Viktor. Maybe Cait has seen him, too, based on her conversation with Jayce, but in general he's not been seen by a large audience.

The Empty Tomb

Christ's departure from the tomb after 3 days is crucial tenet of Christian belief -- Viktor leaving his cocoon/tomb is not joyous, nor is it a sign of transcendent prophecy. If the arcane is the transcendent in this case, Heimerdinger's frequent warnings about its potential for destruction do not promise anything good by its manifestation walking among the common people - a marked difference from a traditional Christ figure. The empty cavern he leaves is but an eerie revision of the stone being moved from the tomb's opening.

Blind Leading the Blind

Viktor is not on a divine-inspired mission; he's being manipulated to some degree by an entity that has invaded his psyche, taking the form of Sky. He's not piloting himself, nor is there a benevolent transcendent being guiding him toward spreading good will. Viktor is blind, not a teacher, and he leads the blind, the shimmer addicts, further into a darkness over which he has no control (yet! I'm confident he'll be regaining agency soon). Even his eyes, now without their old amber hue, point to the fact that he's not seeing nor living clearly right now.

Cultists. Not Disciples.

The blind in question are not called to love and learn from Viktor organically. Whether by implication or a plot device to expounded upon later, Viktor very frighteningly draws the shimmer addict (Huck) toward him and forces his power unto him. As far as we can tell now, the result was nothing bad, but the Sump addicts have bent their knees to him out of desperate fear, not benevolence or worship. The mercy he's extended them is inspired by the malevolent arcane, which seems hungry and commanding.

Enslavement to, Not Embodiment of, the Transcendent

While Viktor has consumed (or been consumed by?) the arcane, he still does not embody it. Despite aligning with Detweiler's "culture-bringer," Viktor can only maintain this for so long. His body is weakened by this episodic healing - he collapses after healing Huck the first time. And in the newly released poster, we can see what appears to be brown rust/rot beginning to corrupt his hand.

If Viktor truly embodied the transcendent, the arcane, it would mesh properly with his person. Instead, he's been enslaved to it. The degree to which it's currently affecting him may be up for debate, but all signs point to Viktor not being totally with us just yet.

In sum, Viktor has the superficial workings of a typical messianic symbol, but beneath the surface, the writers have made not an anti-Christ, but an upside-down version. If Viktor had malicious intent and spread what was outwardly harmful, especially inspiring that in others, then a new term may be necessary. But the tragedy involved in his story so far is that of attempted healing, attempted redemption, and attempted forgiveness all being corrupted by the transcendent arcane.

I'm very excited to see where they take his arc next. I like to think that this analysis can stand on its own, at least for now!

[squibsformers]

Miscommunication

Rodimus x Human Reader, Drift x Ratchet x Human Reader

Summary: After Rodimus tried looping you into something you really weren't into, you sought out your other partners to complain about his reveal of character.

Word Count: 1,128

AN: NSFW suggestive talk, no outright smut. Also hi this is my first tf writing soooo lmk what your thoughts are, i love comments. I'm already working on a reader insert series and wanted to start with a few one off bits. Enjoy! tagging valveplug just in case.

Drift looked up when you entered the medbay, his greeting dying on his glossa as his field just PINGED with the waves of displeasure coming off you.

“Jeez… what's got you all wound up, huh?” He straightened his backstuts as he stood up more from the desk he leaned over, messing with Ratchet temporarily set aside.

You hissed a rush of words under your breath as you strutted in, something that he couldn't TELL what was said but he understood it wasn't very polite. Even the older medic bot lifted his head to address you.

“I only managed to make out Rodimus in all that. What did our oh so brilliant captain do to piss you off?”

 “I thought this whole time we were leading up to something… fun. But it turns out I misread every step. He thinks he's BETTER than me.”

“He's the captain, he is better than you.”

You whipped your head around to glare at Ratchet. “Better enough that I deserve to clean the dirt off his kibble with my tongue?? Because I feel that's pretty fucking degrading.”

Both bots stilled, and the medic's “Wait, what-” was interrupted by Drift stalling briefly and talking over him. “That doesn't sound at ALL like something Roddy would say.”

“I thought so, too.” You huffed before your attitude melted into something a bit sadder. “I mean… I've been flirting with him for so long, and he's been receptive towards it. You even told me he said he likes me. So I don't know where this came from…” 

Groaning, you put your face in your hands, and idly Ratchet patted your back while working (and half listening). 

“I didn't even think that would be a thing with you guys, making someone tongue-polish your like, plating and stuff.”

“That sounds like something Megatron would have had Starscream do back in the day,” Ratchet groused, making Drift mock gagging.

“I'm going to purge my tank, don't make me think about those two like that.” A shudder wracked the ex ‘con's frame. “Eugh. No it's not really a thing with us. Is…is it a human thing?”

“Ah…” The question made you pause to think. “Not… really? I mean, kind of. It's usually an extremely exaggerated form of punishment from someone who wants to uh… show superiority while demeaning the other. Though it's shoes or boots for us, not armor spikes. The idea is to polish the dirtiest article of clothing with their tongue - or glossa - so they feel... sub-human. Though there's always exceptions, and some people are into that kinda thing as like, a kink? But it's really not…what I'm looking for.” You wince.

….Ratchet paused his comforting as he listened, before turning to look you over. “Hold on, back up. Armor spikes… kid, what did Rodimus say to you?”

Drift leaned over the autobot's shoulder, studying you closely. The samurai looked both confused…and disbelieving.

Alright, fine then.

“He said ‘Y’know… Maybe you can put that glossa of yours to use and… clean my spikes with it.’” They let out a grumble. “I didn't peg him for the degrading type…”

The two mechs went oddly quiet and still.

“Spikes… plural?” Drift pressed.

You thought back more, mulling the memory over, of the captain of the Lost Light leering down at you with that heated smirk and his thumb on your cheek…and shook your head.

“No, sorry. Just spike.”

“PFFT-”

You looked up to see Drift looking away, one of his servos clamped over his intake as he cackled. His limbs shook and he held onto Ratchet to steady himself. The medic was looking away, face buried in his hands. His shoulders shook.

He was also laughing at you.

“What. WHAT! HEY?? HELLO!!”

“Kid…Kid, Sp..spike is another term we have for plug.” Ratchet mumbled out. Still laughing. Very much laughing at you. His words caused Drift to wheeze and bend over, his vents stuttering as he cackled.

“He was asking you to interface finally and you totally missed it..!! Oh Primus help me, what did you say? What did you say, tell me. Please, it has to be good.”

Your face got warm as you thought of the fact that you had finally gotten Rodimus interested enough he would make a bold pass. Your face was hot when you realized you had totally missed his signals. Your face was practically on fire when it clicked just how badly you fumbled the whole interaction.

“I… I said Ew, no thanks. And came here-”

“THAAAAHAHAATS THE WORST THING YOU C-COOOHOULD HAVE SAID!!! AAAHAHAGHA OH PRIMUS-”

“Frag me, kid you did not-”

There was no saving you. Both mechs were now openly laughing at your misery. Your face buried in your hands you mumbled out a weak “How was I supposed to know!” that only made Drift start losing it all over again.

After some time (Ten. Minutes.) the two much larger beings had settled, Ratchet returning to his work and chuckling on occasion while Drift…pestered you over your absolute dropping of the ball.

“I can't believe this. I'm almost scared to flirt with you now because you may not get it!”

“Driiiiift…!” You whined, the cheeky samurai squeezing your hips. “Let me go, I want to jettison myself out of the airlock.”

“Not a chance!! I mean I want to make sure if I tell you I wanna have you eat my valve from the back that you aren't going to mistake it for me, say, threatening to mug you or something.”

Your face was bright red. “Drift!!”

“Or, oh man, if I tell you I want to slot my plug between your thighs, maybe you'll think I'm wanting you to-”

“RATCHET! DRIFT IS BULLYING ME AGAIN!” Complaining loudly, you squirmed in Drift's hold while eyeing his Conjux, displeased and humiliated and hoping the medic would scold him or something.

Ratchet barely spared you a glance with his optics as he continued his inventory count. He was literally busy and not paying attention to you two.

“Between words from attractive mechs, manhandling, and something almost too big to go in, you enjoy being bullied, and all of us here are very aware of it,” drawled the grouch's response.

You stared at him, mouth dropped open in shock and WORSE embarrassment at how he called your bullshit out. All while Drift began cackling all over again.

—

You stared up at the habisuite door, staring at the imposing metal barrier of captain Rodimus Prime's personal chambers. Your stomach twisted in knots nervously, your palms somewhat sweaty as you raised a fist and knocked hard, twice. Mentally, you prepared your apology as you heard shuffling and the soft clank of pedes across a metal floor.

God, you hoped the mech thought stupid was hot.

[oh-no-its-bird]

HELPPP IM CRYING ACTUALLY IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE THEM???? HONORED TBH????? I love these silly little guys SO much I'm losing my mind over here that u like them enough to write smthn so long ab it, omg don't look at me rn I'm crying

I never thought too much ab Haruka's voice before but tbh now what u described it that way that's just the Official Haruka Voice Take (tm) actually, that is how she sounds now

"I've got nothing better to do, I think she's funny and I want to reinforce her bad habits <3" is so fucking funny and so fucking accurate, this is exactly what is happening in the twins minds actually.

In my notes for their personalities in my notesapp, I just wrote "They're genuinley just the fucking WORST to deal with. Their "I'm going to cause problems on purpose" dials got cranked up to 10 and got stuck that way at birth" which I think sums it up nicely.

I've been writing silly small stuff for them lately to hoard jealously in my notesapp and I think Haru has a genuine mean streak while Hiro is a lot more bark than bite— but also Haru looks and talks a bit gentler while Hiro acts and sounds rougher, so they often give off the opposite impressions. Don't worry Hiro, your brother will do what you aren't strong enough to (crime)

There's all sorts of fun layers to it too, like, considering they're from a clan who tries to shelter it's children— but they're also from the infamously bloody warring states period, who had to bring up their children much quicker and rougher than modern. I think Hiro would have made a wonderful modern day shinobi while Haru is a good example of the inherent violence of the warring states, just buried under good cheer and playfulness. Mmmm phycology,,,

I love their little trio with Shiruka, they are besties and she's also their first real friend their age, while she's kind of but not quite an outcast in her own clan due to her parents poor standing. She's older sibling coded and so tired of their shit but also quietly, perpetually amused by it, which is probably part of why she sticks around. That, plus their clear undying loyalty towards anything and anyone considered "theirs"— a list she's made it on and does her best to reply in kind

They are holding hands and will continue to hold hands together till they inevitably die at ~19 for the good of the village, yippie !!!

At least they'll get to live on in the memory of Hiname,,

Just kidding she dies like 3 years later, whoops!

BUT YEAH THEM !!! I love them so much, I had way too much fun thinking ab just the ecosystem for young shinobi in early konoha.

I have so many more thoughts ab it all tbh, theres no doubt tons of things happening as so many different people and clans settle in to a new normal but I ofc have my focus

I think I accidentally created some sort of little mystery/conflict with my silly meme of Shiruka going "he wants to order break into my clan heirs house" while also stating that she and her family aren't currently in good standing with the Nara main family.

I wasn't thinking ab it too hard when I drew it but now I'm sat over here like "girl why are you helping Haru break into your clan heirs home when you're already most likley on their (or at least their parents) shit list?? Who is the clan heir and why does Haru want to break into their house?? What drama is this??"

I'll probably think harder about it later, I feel like there's potential there

I need to stop thinking so hard ab potential early konoha narrative things bc I refuse to be consumed by it and know I very much will give in to The Voices if I continue

I say that but I'm absoloutley going to continue to think ab them. Actually.

Ough,,, Wolves of the Woods my beloved,,, one day I'll write u,,, one day,,

That said I'm also enamored with Tetsuo as clan heir (someone get him out of there!!!) He's great at it but also really, really does not want the position.

I think when he was younger and Tobirama was visiting the clan, he point blank begged him to take the position— But Tobirama said no, he's a Senju through and through and he's proud to be second to his Anija. A week later, and Tetsuo officially got the title (and maybe cried about it but only just a little and only on the inside)

(Tetsuo is still nursing a tiny grudge over this, though it's lessened slightly since Sakumo's birth)

POV he's in an especially bitchy mood and Tobirama asks him something and he just kind of grumbles, "oh, I'm sorry, are you my clan heir?"

Queue ??????? from like half of those present

He's so cute tho I think he has my favorite design of all of them. He dresses the fanciest for sure— Haruka totally owns similar things (I think the half and half haori is super cute and I want it to be a clan staple) but only wears it on occasions where she needs to, while he's more traditional/conscious of himself and his position, so he dresses like that all the time. He's probably the guy they send to the capital whenever it's necessary and the clan heads presence isn't needed

Random early konoha oc fun fact no one asked for: I have a vague messy fic idea from months ago now that basically amounts to "the Hatake's die before Madara defects to the village, and Kabuto, in practicing Orochimaru's edo tensei in preparation for the final battle, revives them— then manages to lose them in transport before they wake up. Not knowing any better, they flock to Madara to help in his fight"

I love time travel I love drama I love horrible misunderstandings and family/clan drama !!!!!

Uhh take some notes from that:

ANYWAYS THANKS SO MUCH IM SO GLAD U LIKE THEM SORRY FOR MY WORD VOMIT I JUST GET SO EXCITED AB THEM I COULD EXPLODE WITH IT ACTUALLY

Silly, early Konoha lore and oc things drawn while thinking about this post

!!! early konoha my beloved !!! I have so many thoughts ab it, I want to write a fic that's just silly early Konoha things viewed from the perspective of the less important clan members and their everyday lives. I'm aware the audience for that is incredibly small but I have too much fun just thinking ab it to really care!

Ichigo remains the only naruto oc Ive ever actually written for (in one step three steps), tho Haruka has been mentioned in multiple fics of mine now just bc she fills the role of Tobirama + Hashirama's blood aunt that I needed to be filled in my "Kakashi interacts with Tobirama w the knowledge that they are directly related" fics, of which there are now multiple

but yeah, take some silly art and lore comics !! I had fun while making these and will now probably put all these ocs on a shelf where I will not touch them for some more months

[maika-aika]

Hellooo! Your writing is sooo fun to read that I've been rereading it multiple times now🤭🤭🤭 sooo I kinda wanted to request another post about reader fighting back against the bullies with crowe this time if that's okay, and take your time!

(ps, it's also okay if you ignore this, i hope you have a wonderful day/evening/night! ❤️❤️❤️)

GUARDIAN ANGEL

KYAAA THANK U SM GIGGLING TWIRLING MY HAIR KICKING MY FEET ♡!! I LOVE CROWE SO MUCH BROO!!! Did u know my first fic ever posted here was supposed to be with Crowe but I changed it to Sol instead cz I thought ppl wouldn't like it sobsob

☆: "Someone is creeping you out while hanging out with Crowe, surely you should teach them a lesson, no?"

★: Crowe x gn!reader

☆: Contains: Baddie reader yurr !! Downbad Crowe, creepy dudes, post friend group plot, mutual pining I need to breed him

The bell's ring echoed throughout the entire school, indicating lunch time as students hurriedly pack their things to rush towards their friends and eat at the cafeteria. You were calmer than your unruly classmates, screaming and yelling in excitement as they rushed to their groups and cliques. "Its like they've never experienced the lunch bell go off"

You mused to yourself, happy enough to know that you at least have one friend in your school. Yet he still hasn't shown his pretty little face in your classroom yet, usually he'd pick you up and walk you to the cafeteria, but it seems that isn't the case this time.

"Yo, (Name), I usually see your boyfie pick you up at this time, wonder why he isn't here" your seatmate puts his arm on your head, practically using you as an armrest, making you groan and push him away with red dusting your cheeks "Can it! He's not my...boyfriend.."

Your heart rate picked up as you muttered those words as an evident flush on your cheeks got redder, gaining you a knowing stare from your seatmate as a laugh escaped his throat, smacking your back playfully "Yeah. Sure. And I'm the president of the United States," he marked sarcastically, waving his arms dramatically.

You scoffed, standing up from your seat, and walked your way out of the classroom door, ignoring the cheerful yells and encouragements from your seatmate. "Get yo mans!" He echoed out to you, which promptly made you walk faster in embarrassment.

It didn't take you too long to notice him standing by a vending machine. Taking your chance, you tiptoed your way behind him and gipped his shoulders. "There you are!" You yelled, making him flinch in surprise, snapping his head towards you. His shocked expression made you laugh at his dismay.

He merely sighed and shook his head with a small smile on his face, "You're such a tease, (Name)" his voice was smooth as honey, eyes glinting in nothing but adoration. Oh how you looked divine when you laughed.

"Says you! It's not nice to keep me waiting for that long, you know! Hurt my feelings a bit.." you playfully sulked as a joke, but Crowe seemingly took it too seriously, brows furrowing as an apologetic expression dressed his face "I didn't mean to, there were just some things I had to do before going to you"

Seeing his obviously saddened face made you panic a bit "No—! It was a joke, don't worry! I didn't mind looking for you anyway. " You were quick to reassure, trying to ease his worries a bit, but he simply shook his head. "Still, I shouldn't have made you wait so long. You deserve only the best, (Name)"

His voice is so genuine, and how he stared at you sent shivers down your spine. He's always like this, always putting your needs before himself, always putting you on his first priority before anything else. Curse him and his prince-like behavior!

But before you could ask what he was up to, you felt a random hand hit your ass, laughter, and whistles could be heard as you snapped your head towards the source in anger.

A group of sloppy looking men with dirty uniforms and rolled up sleeves showing their tattoos chortled and snorted at you, as if their making fun of you getting angry with their disgusting actions. "Aww, what's wrong, doll? Wasn't hard enough? I can be more rough if you like"

The main, blonde guy leaned in closer to your face as you winced at the strong smell of his breath. Your expression made them laugh harder, giving each other high fives and fists bumps as if making you uncomfortable is an achievement.

"What do you think you're doing...?"

A hand protectively held your shoulder, making you look up. Crowe's eyes were nothing compared to what you're used to. Eyes that were once filled with love and softness were now filled with pure, raw anger. Yet, he was still gentle with you, carefully maneuvering you to stay behind him, protecting you like a shield.

The boys took one glance at him and scanned him head to toe, judging his every move. The blonde whistled and clicked his tongue, staggering towards the taller male "Watch it, golden boy. You may be class rep or whatever bullshit title they gave you. But these parts are my territory, so I make the goddamn fuckin' rules here." He practically spat out, his lackies cheering him on with vulgar words and descriptions.

If Crowe is pissed, then you're seething.

You hated being insulted, yes, but you hated it even more when people belittle those you care about. So without thinking, you stepped forward and faced the blonde head on, catching Crowe off guard.

"My territory! blah blah, you pissed on this school and claimed it yours like a dog then?"

A sound of surprise was heard from the blonde, even gaining a gasp from their lackies. Clearly, they weren't expecting you to fight back. Crowe got worried, fearing that you might be in danger now. "(Name)—"

"You think you're so fucking funny?"

Without knowing, the blonde grabbed you by the collar and slammed you against the vending machine. Hard glass hitting the back of your head made you groan. Yet you still managed to stare at your attacker dead in the eyes, not running away from a fight you intend to win.

He mocked you with a laugh "Doll, you look so cute when you're angry, but one more goddamn word from your mouth and I'm bashing your fucking skull inside this machine" he threatened, his spit sliding onto your face.

"Yeah? 'Cause I'm about to get real fuckin' adorable"

You raised your foot and kicked him between his legs. A pained groan could be heard as he instinctively dropped you back onto your feet, groveling in pain. But before he could fight back, you grabbed his hair and smashed his head so hard onto the vending machine it broke through the glass. Knocking him out.

You dusted yourself off before turning to the two, shivering lackies, huddling together in an attempt to look smaller and hide from your view. "Who's next?" A malicious smile etched your features, making them scream and run away with their tails between their legs, yelling out apologies and pleads for mercy until they disappeared.

You stood still for a moment, taking in a deep breath to ground yourself. Turning your head to look at the blonde's unconscious body and winced "Yikes...didn't mean to hit him that hard" you played with his arm, lifting and dropping it like a toy.

"Yoo, check it out, Crowe! He's now a—"

"Why did you do that?!" You glanced at him in confusion, eyes locking onto wide and worried ones. "Ehh? They were talking smack about you! I had to do something!" You responded with crossed arms and a pout on your lips. "The least you can do is say thank yo—"

Suddenly, you felt arms wrap around your body in a tight hug. You stood there, not fulling processing what's happening. "You're so reckless..." His voice was a whisper, not daring to speak any louder, not daring to let you go. You didn't know that your actions affected him this much. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his gently.

His breathing eventually calmed down a bit as he let you go. Once again, there's this softness in his eyes, staring right at you as if you held all the stars in the world and placed it all in your eyes, tracing constellations in your gaze. You felt his hand cup your cheek with the same gentle motion, treating you like divinity.

"You don't know how worried I was about you, (Name). Really..." he leaned his forehead onto yours, his other arm wrapping onto your waist, pulling you two closer than before until your bodies are touching so close you could hear each other's heartbeat. And his was racing.

You scoffed, wrapping your arms around his neck. Both of you are in a daze of adrenaline to even process what the two of you are doing, but what mattered right now is each other's company and comfort. "My fault, didn't know I was such a diva" you made light of the situation, earning a sigh from him as he pinched your cheek.

"More like a trouble maker than anything," he retorted, which earned an offended gasp from you and slapped his chest in mock play. "How dare you insult your guardian angel! Oh woe is me. I am so pitiful!" You dramatically leaned back with the back of your hand on your forehead, he laughed at your playfulness and pulled you in closer to spin you around like a waltz dance and dramatically dropped you, his arm supporting your body as his eyes are solely focused on you.

He gently held your other hand and kissed your knuckles with a smile. "Thank you, angel.." he whispered so softly that it was barely audible. Your cheeks flushed as your teasing words died on your throat, rendered absolutely speechless.

You quickly stood up straight and pushed him away in embarrassment, looking away from him as you tried to calm down your beating heart "...That's cheating" you muttered and kicked the cement, glaring holes onto the ground in an attempt to make it seem your unphased by his shameless flirt.

A laugh was heard beside you. Feeling his hand take in yours again as he wordlessly walked you away from the ugly sight you left at the vending machine. Though he is class representative, and it is his job to keep everyone in check, he finds himself making exceptions for you. No matter how brutal you might get. If anyone from his class would have caught him right now, they'd blame him for favoritism.

But what's more shocking is that he doesn't seem to have any need to deny it.

Silently picking up the paper bag he left nearby, leaving you still unaware of what he's holding, Lazer focused on calming your heart. And oh, does he find that absolutely adorable.

Perhaps he will just slip the snacks and drinks he bought for you from the vending machine under your table once you need it.

Chat imma be fr here, lowkey hated this LMAO yrgghh felt like I could've done better but my class starts at 6 and it's already 5:37 HELPPP

[a-ikuoliver]

kinktober day 31: maki + stepcest

w/c: 2.9k warning/s: f!reader (wearing a dress, referred to as woman), stepcest/incest, characters are referred to as sisters/use of honorifics, masturbation (r!receiving), panty sniffing/stealing, degradation, oral (r!giving), semi-public sex, maki's kinda (read: very) mean lmao notes: this is part of @ficsforgaza kinktober event!! ffg kinktober masterlist — please enjoy and check out the creators who helped raise over $400 usd for gaza aid!! this is my first time writing maki and i think i've gone blind from horniness so i think i did well LMAO inspo/acknowledgements: co-written with my lover @cottoncalicoes

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

“congratulations again to the happy couple!” swallowing thickly, you take the opportunity during the applause to clear your throat, “and i’m so excited to be an honorary zen’in.”

you hate your cognisance of the weight of the microphone in your hand, your sweaty palms sliding against the metal no matter how nervously you adjusted your grip on the cylinder. you feel like you’re going through withdrawal, your lips too tight in your smile, showing too many teeth, your fingers twitching at your side, sweat beading on your brow as you stood at the centre of the dance floor in front of your new family on the best day of their lives.

for them, it looks like it is; mai, mingling with everyone in her stunning bridesmaid’s gown, dark green hair framing her pretty face, glitter sparkling on her eyelids in the low light, the blushing bride glowing at the centre table, her white slip dress rubbing against her grooms leg as he inched their chairs closer, both of them beaming with lovesick smiles. and maki, in a matching dress with her twin, the gown ruching, plunging and bunching on every addictive curve of her body, like your mother had chosen the dresses just to torture you. you, in comparison, look miserable with your flushed cheeks, darting eyes, clammy fingers attempting to pull the clinging fabric away from your searing skin.

you can’t do it. you can’t. you can’t even last a day without it.

your lewd vice. an unintentional habit born the week you moved in with your new family. you’d all settled into a routine quickly; family dinner, tidying the home, showering and bathing, and then slinking back to your bedroom for some peace. any apprehension you may have felt about the change melted from you when you’d stepped into the bathroom on your fifth night, the walls still sticky with humidity from your step-sisters shower, the faucet dripping against the porcelain tile rhythmically. only after stripping down to your underwear did you notice it; your downfall served to you on a silver platter. maki’s underwear strewn carelessly across the floor.

the fabric was plain. black. a boy short cut, curved to complement the shape of her ass. everything you'd expect from your new step-sister.

shame bubbled in your stomach, a pit of trepidation building the more you stared at the garment. moving on autopilot, hot water spouted from the shower, noisily hitting the tile and glass opposite it, steam billowing to the ceiling, your fingers snatching the panties before you can think about the repercussions, your left hand slipping between your thighs to furiously fuck yourself, your garbled moans and pants muffled by your right hand, holding her panties over your nose and lips like a depraved version of a mask.

each and every single day since had been no different. you and maki crossing paths, her hair still damp, droplets trailing down the skin of her neck, and you, refusing to meet her eye, hurrying into the bathroom after her, needing to huff and suck and lick at her underwear while they still tasted like your oneesan.

wetting your dry lips, you pass the microphone along to the next, family members rushing to pass along their well wishes to the happy couple, you only hope your new family doesn’t notice the way your eyes glaze over, meeting maki’s across the room. your (now official) step-sister stares over the top of the round frames of her glasses, tawny eyes studying you like she’s watching the memory replaying in your mind, too, hearing the wanton call of her name.

with a polite smile to a cousin who’s name escapes you, you slip from the banquet room, ducking your head past ornate decor, white, gold and a muted emerald green to match the bridesmaid dresses, the train of your own billowing after you as you rush toward the end of the hallway, near sprinting by the time you reach the door.

swinging the door open, your chest heaves, lungs tightening each time you try to catch your breath, too preoccupied with hiking the length of your dress up to focus on your breathing, too impatient to even hold your underwear aside when you press your fingertips to your aching clit, only just managing to slam the stall door shut before you breathe out an airy sigh.

the bathroom door swings open, the hinges creaking, a noise that should send your heart to your throat. instead, you only feel a frustrated scream build in your oesophagus, willing your unwanted guest to take care of themselves quickly, to let you take care of your issue.

their steps echo ominously toward your stall, each click in time with your erratic pulse before stopping outside your door, their shoes eerily similar to the heels maki adorned for the event.

“you're pathetic.” the familiar, bored voice rings from the opposite side of the stall, icy blood rushing in your ears nearly deafening you, “what’s it been, hm? not even an entire day without stuffing yourself full?”

your cunt aches at her tone, disappointment laced through every syllable, disappointed in your weakness, about to lecture you on self-control.

when you don’t answer her, she knocks sharply against the door, demanding your attention with the jarring note, “come here. now.”

reluctantly, you obey, a painful jolt shooting through your spine to your neglected clit when you drag your hand away, clenching your fists between your thighs, trying not to release a petulant groan, willing yourself not to whine and cry to your step-sister about your addiction, your debauched habit, the wail catching in your throat before it can be free. easing the door open, you attempt to steel your features, letting your dress fall back into place, hiding the slick on your thighs when you meet maki’s wolfish gaze.

“look at you,” she sneers, tilting her head to take in your dishevelled appearance — your dress creased at your hips, the angry marks your nails left in your palms, your swollen, bitten lips, “can you even get off without your nose stuffed in my underwear?”

your stomach drops at her words, eyes darting around the confined space, trying to find something to look at other than her face. feeble excuses tumble past chapped lips, stuttering over every word that comes to mind, finally landing on a complete sentence, “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

picking nervously at the bed of your nails, painted to match hers for the special day, you still avoid her sharp eyes, your gaze landing on her lips as she laughs at you.

“perverted and an actor,” crowding into the already cramped space, she’s sure to slide the lock into place behind her before she continues, “you really thought i wouldn’t notice your little habit?”

cowering under the heat of her stare, maki easily backs you against the wall, the tension thick enough even the dullest blade would slice through it; a heat blossoming anywhere she touches you, one hand at your shoulder, the other your waist, her hips pressing into yours to trap you beneath her patronising sneer.

“how long?” her slender fingers move to grasp your jaw, calloused fingertips squishing the fat of your cheeks, pressing them together until your lips parted dumbly, tilting your head to look into her shining eyes. the glass atop her nose flashes, a fierceness reflected back at you.

although, the longer you stare, the sooner you realise it’s her pupils swimming with the wickedness.

“what?”

“how long did you think you could get away with it?” pressing herself harder to you, she studies every minute reaction: the flutter of your eyelashes, the pucker of your lips, the whine in your throat, the wiggle of your hips, chasing the euphoria she was willing to give you with every adjustment of her hips.

“using me to get off like that,” leaning closer like she’s going to kiss you, she continues clicking her tongue at you, her voice dripping in vitriol, “stealing my underwear, getting yourself off to the smell of me like some pervert, and all i get is a selfish little sister and stained underwear.”

digging her fingertips into your side to halt your wiggling, you bite back a moan, a small part of you worried you’re going to stain her dress with your slick.

“christ, and you’re getting off on this, too?” looking down her nose at you, there’s a pang of humiliation blooming at the nape of your neck until she grins, as evil as the glint in her eye, “you fucking freak.”

“i’m not a freak.”

maki laughs, no, snicker at your weak voice, sounding more like a frightened child trying to stand up to its playground bully, 'sensei said you're not allowed to snatch,', dropping her hand from your waist, she slips it between your thighs, allowing you to wiggle and grind into her hand, your body still screaming to cum, here, like this, with your sister’s fingers inspecting the slick drooling from your pussy, the voice in your head screaming at you to leave growing quieter and quieter, silenced for good when she swipes her thumb over your clit.

“you have a different word for getting this wet for me?”

heat rushes to your face, stammering like a poor little victim again as she strokes your dripping slit painstakingly slowly, “you know what i think?”

you only whine in acknowledgement, reaching for her wrist in an attempt to get closer, to feel her weight pinning you, her heat, for more.

tightening her grip on your jaw, she sadistically draws her fingers away from you, “when your oneesan asks you a question, freak, you answer.”

“w-what do you think, maki?”

“show some respect,” she goads, “what do you moan when your fingers are stuffing your greedy cunt? say it.”

“what do you think… oneesan,” you sound pathetic moaning the honorific, the taste of it on your tongue enough to make your cunt pulse and gush, your empty hole clenching around nothing when maki rewards you with her thumb stroking circles on your clit.

a predatory smile graces her lips, still glossy with makeup, her feminine features twisting as she taunts you, “i think you owe me.”

it doesn’t take much for maki to get you to your knees, pushing at your limbs until you’re fumbling to kneel on the frigid tiled floor beneath her, your face level with her crotch. even maki’s hands tangling in your hair can’t stop you from pressing your face between her thighs, the dull pain of her tug at your scalp nothing compared to the ache in your stomach, a hearth burning and smouldering with each prod, pinch and spit from your step-sister. the scent of her like gasoline, your kindled hearth quickly growing into an uncontrollable flame.

she was right, you can’t get off without this anymore, without the taboo, the scent of her, the taste of her on the cotton.

your eyelids flutter, dazed when you dip your head beneath the hem of her dress, sucking in a deep breath with your face pressed to her cunt, already addicted to how much better it is like this – the heat of her muscular thighs around your head, the strength of her smell, the way you can trace the shape of her cunt while sucking her taste from the material, more and more of her cum starting to drool from her cunt the more you tried to lap it up, greedily drinking everything in.

hot blood rushes in your ears, into your cunt, pressing your face harder into her cunt, bruising your nose against her pubic bone while mouthing desperately at her pussy. as if remembering yourself, you bring your hands up to join your ravenous mouth beneath her dress, a whimper torn from your throat when she snatches you away from her soaked underwear.

“still so greedy, aren’t you?” maki’s eyes match yours, a debauched need burning in the depths of her dark eyes, “use your manners. ask for a taste.”

“oneesan,” you don’t hesitate like you did moments ago, too caught up with the desperation to taste her firsthand, instead of your face buried in her panties trying to taste the minute amount of her through the material, too caught up in your sister’s gravity to bring yourself to care about the humiliating position she had you in. with a broken voice, you plead, “please, let me taste you, oneesan.”

hazel eyes flash at your eagerness, hardly moving an inch in a nod before you're pouncing on her — pawing at her underwear like a woman starved, tugging the material down enough to curl your tongue around the string connecting her to the fabric before you abandoned them in place of spreading her thighs apart, conscious of every precious second that could be spent with your nose bumping against her clit.

if you thought you were addicted before, tasting maki like this had you hooked, euphoria swimming in your veins when your tongue connected with her flesh. you didn't think you could sink any lower than suckling your step-sisters underwear clean in the shared bathroom, but stuffed and kneeling in a bathroom stall at your parents wedding, you realised you had miles left to sink for her. moaning against her skin, you press forward, crawling on your hands and knees to impatiently suck at her skin even as she stumbled into the stall door.

saliva slips down your throat, your lips wet with it when you keen, curling and swirling your tongue over every inch of her cunt you can possibly reach like this, desperately pawing at her thighs to get more, taste more, touch more, just more.

“god,” crossed eyes meet hers, expecting her to look even half as debased as you do, instead eye to eye with her glare, one dark brow quirked, there's only disinterest reflecting back in her pupils, “i finally let you eat my cunt, and this is the best you can do?”

gripping the hair at the base of your skull, she steps over you until you’re stretching awkwardly to keep your head comfortably in her grip, one of your hands holding her ass to stay upright while she positions herself to fuck your mouth, “maybe you should just stick to licking my cum off my underwear. seems that’s all you’re good at.”

tightening her hold on your hair, maki manoeuvres you beneath her, tugging your hair — and subsequently your head — where she wants you. she's slow, deliberate, at first, tortuously so, your tongue tracing sensuously along her slit, dipping into her cunt to taste the cum beginning to drip from her, before she’d drag you backward to her clit.

while pushing and pulling you, her hips grind in a perfect rhythm to soak her pussy, working herself  closer and closer, using your tongue like some toy; grinding harder on your face when she wants to let you have a taste, tugging you back by the hair when she wants to watch the way your lips are connected to her cunt with a silky white string, studying how your eyes roll into your skull, hazy with lust when it snaps back onto your bottom lip.

“so lucky your oneesan is here to teach you how to eat pussy, hm?” her cheeks are flush, the only sign of your affect on her other than the cum sticking to her thighs, to your lips like her perverted take on lip gloss. licking her cum from your mouth, you nod, your eyes darting back to her cunt in a silent plead for her to let you continue, to taste her cum as her thighs shake around your head.

she obliges your taboo request, a hiss echoing in the small stall when you dig your nails into the fat of her ass, burying your face in her once more — gently lapping at her pussy while your nose rubbed against her clit, the scent of her cunt driving you insane, her smell embedded in the hair just above her clit making you dizzy, grateful for your kneeling position, taking everything in you to be patient, to go slow, to follow her movements as she strings you along.

sucking and swirling your tongue around her clit until she cants her hips, slurping and flattening your tongue to drink in much of her as you could, mouthing along her slit when she'd cradle the back of your skull to hold you close to her.

you think she's close, her clit pulsing like yours did beneath your fingers when you'd nearly suffocate yourself with her panties to your nose, her pussy clenching around your tongue, her hips jumping erratically. her moan wavers as her hold on your skull tightens, dull nails scratching angry marks into your scalp as she holds you with both hands, using your face, spreading her cum all around your nose, lips and jaw, your tongue stuck out dumbly as she takes what she needs from you, holding your face deep into her cunt when she cums with an airy, drawn out hum — silky cream drooling straight onto your tongue while you hungrily lapped at her skin, licking her cunt and thighs clean of the precious liquid, ears perking at each of your sister's sharp inhales.

like an over excitable puppy, maki has to pull you away from her again, “you were alright.” she pants, catching her breath as you stare up at her with clouded eyes, “try harder tonight you can keep the panties to jerk off with, pervert."

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[shycroissanti]

THE WOLF (or better known as the Kishin vs Kosuke comic) PART I

I'll warn you that this comic is a bit messy because I started it back in September and only picked it up to continue recently (o´ω｀)

Forgive me for my writing mistakes, I hope it's not too bad (T▽T)

✨️Ok, a little context to start!!!✨️

This comic takes place at the beginning of the story

Irina and Kishin haven't met all the Midnights yet, and Takahiro is still the main villain here.

This is happening at night, Kishin couldn't sleep, so he lay down in the middle of the backyard and just thought about everything that was happening:

What does Kosuke mean by the marks on Kishin's wrists: On all the Sunlights' uniforms there are these two stripes, so Kishin could very well be considered a member of the Sunlight Force by other demons (but this was never intentional, Kishin has these marks by pure coincidence xD)

Other considerations that I forgot to present in a better way:

- Kishin has the ability to sense the presence of other demons around him

- Kosuke is incredibly fast

- Kosuke's main function is to hunt under Takahiro's orders, that is, if Takahiro orders Kosuke to hunt any member of the Sunlight Force, Kosuke will do it without hesitation

I'll post part two soon!!✨️

Forgive me if this is too bad, it's been a while since I've written a comic this long (´ﾉω；`)

Let me know what you think💖

Consider helping me by reblogging this!! And if you liked it, check out my other blog - @shycroissanti-comics there you can find all my drawings and comics :D🥐✨️

Le tags💕✨️

@matthew-knyshait @pulim-v @floofgryph @artsycervidae @larz-barz

[awsugar]

tin hat fully on, completely convinced there's gonna be an album. that announcement was too extra to just be for ten tour dates. esp with the inclusion of the secretary character from the last tour. also i still just really don't think a band that made a song with the meaning of foundations would let that be their last ever song. either way so hyped the tour is coming.

im a little hesitant to say for sure i think there's an album because we've been through this before! foundations was over 2 years ago. when it. some out i was sure there would be an album. i've always been skeptical of new music but that sounds like the first song of an album like it HAS to lead into something else. but now the time for that has passed. i even thought that when the tour started and the swarm merch came out like surely one day we'll understand what all of this means! we still don't. and this clearly is something different. if this video was really reminiscent of the black parade concept or the caption wasn't like super. new lore that i don't really think has anything to do with tbp. i mean clearly it DOES. but it's obviously after. and i don't think it has anything to do with the patient obviously. that's just a completely separate part of the story. this black parade is clearly not like a death procession. it's a military band. same name different story. but i know that gerard has definitely connected the dots.

but anyway like before. there was a lot of stuff involved in the promotion of the last tour and nothing ever came of any of it. but it was at least some familiar imagery? like all of the teasing before the tour announcement that used an established witches alphabet. we're familiar with reapers and skeletons being associated with the band. and there was no explanation for any of the swarm stuff. a summoning was a huge thing but it made sense to announce their big us reunion tour. and it called back to their history.

but now! they've created their own alphabet. there are clear characters. characters, might i add, that gerard has clearly been working on for a while considering his outfits in the 2023 final leg being tests for this. and the outfit he wore at the last 2023 wwwy show being military. AND the whole caption that obviously has deep lore and stuff that we must be getting context for at some point if they went to all the trouble to do this and write it out and create this new concept. like what is MOAT what is DRAAG , who is the secretary character, did the 9/11 themed drum heads that went along with the outfits he wore tie into this? why is "long live" in quotations? is it because it's a new album title by the black parade? remember how canonically the black parade were an italian band? there are so many more questions created with this than there were with the things that went unanswered before. i can't even conceive of this now happening and us not getting answers. and i can tell it's not simply a black parade anniversary tour cut and dry and it will likely be SO different from wwwy. that was a tribute. this is different. this is a departure. a reimagining. i believe it.

[loveparqdise]

Summary: chris is a drug dealer and y/n’s a ballerina. you’re not happy with they way he does drugs and kills himself by doing so.

Warning: angst, cursing, drugs? yeah i think that’s all. no smut.

A/N: this is my first fan fic i don’t know if it’s nice or not but it took me a while. it’s based on the song “you by chase atlantic” (it’s a really good song) and there is a bot also on my cai acc based on this, this fic is more detailed tho. (cai is same as my username on here jf you wanna check it out.) feedback is always appreciated and tell me if you want me to do more in the future! also if you wanna be added to my tag list please comment on this post! 🤍

chris was a pretty fucked up dealer, tbh. he would sell drugs, take them, party and that was — until he met you. you changed his life. you were a ballerina, you were usually quiet and reserved. he met you at one of your shows, the show nick literally dragged him too.

despite him being a dealer, who does drugs, you couldn’t help but fall in love. you both started dating, around a few months ago. you guys were like a normal couple, if you weren’t comfortable with something, he wouldn’t force you — no, not at all. he would respect your boundaries.

you’d just wish he stopped doing drugs. he was literally killing himself, every single day and he knew that. and still he would do it. one day, you finally thought you’d break up with him, so you told him to come to the spot you and chris always went too. he arrived and saw you sitting there. he approached you and sat next to you, giving a small kiss on your cheek. “hey, ma. why’d you call me here all of a sudden?” his fingers intertwined with yours as he gently caressed your hand with his thumb.

“chris, i don’t think this is working, i mean, i really really love you but you’re killing yourself everyday because of these drugs, and i hate seeing you like this, i’m giving you time to work on yourself. we can be together after some time, chris i promise.”

he felt as if a ton of bricks hit him at once. were you really breaking up with him? he couldn’t stand this, he wanted to cry, he wanted to scream at you, “are you serious? really y/n? after all we’ve been through you’re throwing it all away just because i do drugs?” anger and frustration were clear in his voice, he just couldn’t get it.

“chris, try to understand please, i do love you but i want you to work on yourself and stop doing drugs, please.” he scoffed, he couldn’t believe your words. he got up, “whatever.” he left, on the outside, it looked like he didn’t care but on the inside he was breaking, he felt as if a dagger had hit his heart.

the next few months, chris worked everyday, to be a better person for you. he didn’t deal as much as he used to. he stopped taking drugs and going to parties. instead, he found his new hobby, writing songs. He wrote songs about you, about how deep in love he was with you.

he wouldn’t release it until you forgave him, he wanted you to be there with him throughout this journey. he finally thought it was time to talk to you, tell you that he’s improving. he reached your house & knocked on your door. his heart was beating fast. what if you found another guy? what if you had a boyfriend who was way better than him? what if— his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by hearing the door open.

there you were, wearing a simple outfit but gosh you looked absolutely stunning. he handed you the flowers he bought you, your expression softened. “Hey.” he was clearly nervous, you returned a smile and told him to come in.

you both sat on the couch as he handed you a book, it was full of his songs that he wrote for you. “I wrote this song for you, I put down the drugs for you, I’m so in love with you, A thousand apologies couldn’t make up for the time that I’ve wasted. I've improved. Please give me another chance, let me show you how much I love you.”

“chris, these songs they’re—” you started off but suddenly cut off by chris’s voice, “yeah i know they’re horrible.” he chuckled, looking down and fidgeting with his fingers. “chris what? they’re literally amazing, there’s so much emotion and feelings in these lyrics, i’m so proud of you.” you held his hand, he finally looked up to see your face, you had a soft smile on your face, love was clear on your face. “you really think so?” he looked at you, “i know so.”

you smiled and cupped his face, “i think i’m ready to be together with you. i love you so much.” chris’s eyes widened, he wasn’t expecting you to forgive him so easily, he couldn’t help but just jump on you and kiss the fuck out of you. “i love you.” he said and after that he fucked you on the couch and showed you who you belong too.

tysm for reading! i hoped you liked it, it was my first one so it’s probably horrible😭 if you could reblong it would be really kind tysm <3

divided by @enchanthings

[merakiui]

I have arrived for..

HAPPY MERA DAYYYYY!! 🎉✨

I might be a bit early for you though but in our place it's 11/11!! Happy birthday to our dear Mera and may all the gacha lords give her the card that she had been yearning for and for you to have fun on your very special day!

... may tako (ಠ⁠ಗ⁠ಠ).. OR ANY OF YOUR FAVES COME HOME TO YOU~~

My gift to you is a brainworm for your birthday! As the queendom has said there is only one birthday for 366 days (it's a leap year) so happy birthday to you~

Skully J. Graves have kicked Tako out of your top fave (GOOD FOR YOU!) and so here is a brainworm for dear skully.

Skully is the King of Halloween and it is just befitting for him to have a queen just like how Jack has Sally. Many fans of him states here that skully would like a step sister or how he'll like you wearing something in the victorian era (or his era). I've got this idea out of your fic with Riddle with his father-in-law as a toy maker so, what if that's how skully met you? as a porcelain doll that he wouldn't have thought existed.

(I haven't been up to date much with his character but I'll try!) His mother who remarried a doll maker, from clay to wax to cloth he could make any tips but for Skully he has a favorite one, the human sized porcelain doll that his dear step father has made. So pretty, so calm.. surely it was made for him

Skullys been practicing wooing and courting someone with you, you wouldn't judge his shy self, just taking it with a soft smile that he thinks that deep down you were smiling at him, softly laughing as you think he's quite adorable with how he fumbles and stutters, he knew you'd accept him as how he is

But one day he heard that the doll is finally being delivered to the person who has commissioned the doll and he is desperate, what do you mean his doll is being taken away?? he couldn't just take it and hide it in his room and make his dear father who makes his mother happy pay for his mistakes so he volunteers to come with to deliver the doll, giving it a promise that he'd be back to take what's his..

and when they finally arrive at the manor, he stops. he stops and stares at the moving doll beside their customer that mysteriously looks too much like his doll who's in the box.

you were made just for him, weren't you?

hahaha I'm not that good with writing my thoughts out but I hope this at least got the brainworm through! happy Mera day once again~~ 🎁

PS. I love any name Mera gives to me hihi

-mafia tako/mera day anon

AAAAA DEAREST MAFIA TAKO ANON, THANK YOU!!!!! :D I feel like it would be much too egotistical if I gave you an anon name after myself (^^;;;), so I hope mafia tako anon is just as lovely a name!!! <3 now as for this delicious brain worm......... >:D

Ooooo I just love the idea of Skully falling head over heels for a doll, only to have his entire world shaken when it turns out there's a real person this doll is based on!!! >w< it could only be the work of fate that brought him to you!! And while he still treasures the doll very much, he quite likes the sound of your voice and the animated ways in which you move and exist. Stalking admiring you when you go out into town to do your shopping or when you're out on dates with your beloved (who shouldn't even be in the picture if you ask Skully >:( he wants to be your lover and he will,,, one day).

Skully who is so certain you'll love him in the same way he loves you. After all, he practiced kissing with you (the doll) and even professed his love dozens of times, and you accepted it with a wordless smile!!! So he's not sure why you (the real, living, moving you) is so frightened when he breaks into your home. He's sorry for being so rude and inviting himself in, but you just haven't been replying to his letters and he just wants to finally introduce himself in person... please don't be scared!! >_< waaa so delusional,,,

[johanna-swann]

The annoying thing about the break up is that it would have made so much more sense if they'd had Tommy break it off because of any of the multiple things Buck says in that conversation that are kind of weird. The vibe that Buck also kind of wants to be Tommy, which isn't helped by him replacing Tommy twice over. The fact that it's been six months of Tommy apparently being open about the kind of work he had to do on himself to get to this point but Buck still hasn't really taken Tommy off the pedestal. Asking someone who probably has a house to move in to a loft. Springing a mention of a possible future marriage on him when it doesn't seem like it's come up before. The writing in this episode was so bad but they still managed to unintentionally give Tommy actual reasons to decide he was done.

I'm not sure what Buck "replacing Tommy" is referring to here, but a lot of the other stuff I agree with. Even upon first glance that break-up made so little sense to me that I immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was merely one of the "hurdles" we were promised and they'd get back together in season 8b.

It was always a possibility that Tommy wouldn't be Buck's "forever love", but the way they broke up was... strange, to say the least.

First of all the Abby thing makes zero sense. It doesn't fit with the way Abby talked about her ex. Even if she didn't want to talk to Buck about being engaged before, she would've at least mentioned to Carla that the terrible break-up she had to relive over and over again came from her fiancé, not just a boyfriend. It doesn't make sense that Tommy never mentioned her to the 118 either. She was basically his beard, right? Isn't the point of those relationships that you can pretend to be straight in front of others? And then Tommy actively hid his relationship with her instead?

This only served as a conversation starter though, it wasn't the reason they broke up. In his conversation with Josh Buck didn't feel comfortable using the l-word, but he did admit seeing and wanting a future with Tommy. Which he later also said to Tommy himself.

Then the very moment Buck said the words "move in" I immediately went "not a-fucking-gain!!" Because this rushed, overcorrecting clinging - throwing ideas of marriage and so on around without even having exchanged "I love you"s yet - is such a Buck 2.0 thing to do. He didn't even take into consideration that Tommy lives in an entire ass house. You promised us Buck would get off the Hamster wheel Tim! He has been more grounded than I've ever seen him in a relationship, but then suddenly, nope. Character growth who?

And lastly Tommy's answer. Maybe he just got cold feet, but. Why did he even give Buck a second chance in the first place when he already thought this wasn't going to go anywhere. If he thought what Buck needed were more casual queer experiences, then why did he stay with Buck for six months? And if he liked Buck enough to be afraid of getting his heart broken, wouldn't he have left that relationship earlier?

I mean. They ended up breaking things off over liking each other too much, essentially. Find the sense in that.

And maybe while Tommy was too pessimistic and scared, Buck was still viewing the relationship too much through rose-tinted glasses. But that's when you say: "Hey, we kind of want the same thing here, but I think we still have a lot to talk about and to figure out about each other. Maybe let's just date a little longer and come back to this conversation in two or three months."

(Though I think Tommy struggling and working on himself is one of the very things Buck so admires about him. It's not that Buck is (love-) blind to this information, it's part of what makes Tommy's confidence so attractive to Buck.)