#Bringing up stuff and such. I think maybe it's just 1 person?
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choptop-sawyer · 1 month ago
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Ik I'm not active anymore but I think I'm gonna have to turn off anon asks there's somebody being weird af. Sorry guizzz
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icewindandboringhorror · 4 months ago
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On average, what is the total MONTHLY amount that you spend on dining out*?
*(This doesn't only count going out to restaurants, but also stuff like picking up fast food to bring home, getting a coffee on the way to work, getting a premade sandwich from a grocery store deli during lunch, buying a quick snack from a convenience store or food cart whilst walking somewhere, ordering a pizza or any other food to be delivered to your home, etc.)
*(If you often dine out in groups/as a household: calculate and divide the costs so that you get a Per Person average. This is for YOU individually, NOT the total household/group costs)
(I'm sure polls similar to this have been made before (very common topic), I just haven't personally seen one that I can remember, so, I was curious to do my own! I was discussing this with a group of people today and it was very interesting to see how widely the number varied between individuals. :0c )
(Reblog for bigger sample size if you can, and feel free to explain your answer in tags if there's anything extra to add!)
#polls#tumblr polls#I'm mostly in the 0/1 - 25$ category. Maybe the rare month is a bit over $25 if there's something specific going on like birthday.#Which I'm NEVER eating in an actual restaurant (erm... covid... plus I just hate restaurant environments. i would rather pickup#the food and bring it home to a peaceful quiet environment that I control lol). But more typically like stopping by a grocery store deli#section or something. I don't have coffee that much. And I can't eat fast food much due to my health issues/diet restriction stuff#so if I'm out like coming back from an appointment and I start feeling really sick and weak. I know that a hamburger will just#blow up my system and cause nausea or something. So I try to pick the breadiest most#neutral looking turkey sandwich at the safeway deli to eat during the hour ride home or whatever lol#I actually kind of wish I could do stuff like get food more often vecause it would take the burden of cooking everything off of me#but.. alas... Money... and Health Things... T o T#I still wouldn't do it ALL the time but like... once a week instead of once a month or something.. or maybe turning into a coffee#person.. I do love drinks A LOT .. i am a drink person who will have 5 different drinks sipping on at all times#But i just have to make them all myself mostly lol#And I cant really have too much coffee since it will make me sick. so like.. teas and juice mostly#When I inevitably become a millionaire by never using social media never networking and only finishing one#sculpture every 5 months which I dont even post about or sell - then I shall... get more drinks..#I will somehow wean my body onto coffee and drink one a day solely for the ritual of it#Though even then... I would still probably just like.. buy the mateirals to make it at home or something#Like if you had a million dollars you could just buy a kitchen grade ice cream machine and other stuff to make your own milkshakes and#coffees and smoothies and bubble teas. Genuinely I think even if I were a BILLIONAIRE I would still look at playing likr $8 for a single#coffee and go .. uh.... I could just buy the equipment to make this and then save that money. PLUS. its in my house now so no need to#have to leave. I can make my own drinks in the comfort of home. .. ideal..#Like no matter how rich I ever got I would still have the lingering scroogey stinginess. like i am NOT paying for that. I will jus#make it myself. Especially if it was an Everyday thing. Anythign thats part of my routine I try to optimize and make as efficient as#possible... ANYWAY.. In an IDEAL world I would get treats. but probably not that much. as on a daily basis it would start to get#to me and I would just save up to buy kitchen machinery if I was rich lol
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running-in-the-dark · 1 year ago
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I'm finally almost done organising/putting away all the stupid shit I've bought recently - it's mostly all kinds of sewing supplies. I've got about a million buttons and zippers now. and lots of random fabric. a whole box full of sewing patterns. pretty much... everything you could ever need for sewing.
I've also not touched my (brand new) sewing machine since I tried it out in the couple of days after I got it. not once. because all the stuff that I bought made me feel so fucking anxious and guilty. and, well, I couldn't have used it anyway because there were boxes everywhere.
I've tried fixing the problem - I finally deleted the ebay app from my phone, for example. whenever I felt bad I'd just spend hours browsing ebay and bidding on stuff. I mean, the auction is gonna end in a week, that's not even real! I'm not buying things, I'm just saying hm well I'd pay this much for this, and then I might even win! winning is nice, it feels good! and I get a product, or even a box of products?! that also feels good!
except I bid on so. much. stuff. that the anxiety felt like it was killing me.
anyway. that part is fixed now. I did bid on a few barbies after that whole disaster, but that finally made me go, wait why am I doing this again after how shit it just made me feel?! so then I deleted the app.
but. I don't know. the real problems are still there and I don't know what to do about it.
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lettersiarrange · 5 months ago
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Since I just checked my ask box for the first time in a hot minute:
Just a note that tumblr doesn't tell me when I have new asks or messages and I rarely check my notifications. Helpful corrections of misinformation/any messages in good faith are appreciated (though it's possible I won't see them until weeks later, sorry), but if something I reblog angers you enough you feel the need to get hostile in my askbox on anon, I reccomend the unfollow button.
I'm also not comfortable posting asks asking for any sort of donations/directing people to your blog for donation purposes, sorry :// I just don't have time to vet asks like that
#feel like I've had more hostile asks than usual in the last year or so#(with the usual number being none and the recent number being more than none)#I'm not sure if it's like (1) person who hatefollowed and now just wants to be nitpicky about everything#or if the culture of the site changed when i wasn't paying attention and people are back to being hostile#my theory is that the fall of twitter means twitter users are coming back to tumblr and bringing their hostility with them#also i can't believe i have to say this AGAIN#but while what i reblog is generally in line with what i believe...#sometimes i reblog stuff bc it's interesting and makes points i haven't heard before#or i like the overall message even tho there's a few pieces I'm iffy about#or it's not how I'd say it or i feel like it's lacking in some nuance but still think the point is worth making#if you see a really consistent take on my blog with consistent framing then yeah safe to assume it's probably reflective of how i feel#but if you have problems with the phrasing or framing of a specific post maybe take that up with the OP??#i can find someone's speech worthy of dissemination without agreeing with every word#I'm not going to take responsibility for other ppl's phrasing esp if it's just the phrasing or framing in one post and not a theme 4 my blog#sometimes i just think things are an interesting conversation or worthy of talking abt even if not everyone is saying things 100% correctly#feel free to come for me for things i actually write. but I'm not gonna take responsibility for other people's phrasing#(AGAIN with the understanding that like. if I were constantly reblogging posts with slurs or something that would be different)#this just in humans are complex and do not agree 1000% with every post they've ever shared online#pls hold me accountable for things i actually say...#a good example of a VALID critique was when i was following a secret terf and i was accidentally reblogging things with terf OPs semi-often#there was concern i was a terf (i am not... just bad at spotting terf dogwhistles) bc there were a few of these like...#not explicitly terfy but like popular with terf posts on my blog#so thanks again to whoever let me know so i could hunt down the secret terf i was following and unfollow#and even tho it's not true that I'm a terf it was a valid concern bc of the consistency#if u think the phrasing or framing in (1) singular post i reblogged is sooooo horrible... pls take it up with the OP#again with obvious exceptions of like. hate speech. slurs. actual alt right talking points. content in the post that is directly harmful#but anons in my inbox have been Big Mad abt like. one line in one post. or one bad piece of framing#or one not quite nuanced enough take. or one framing where not every person in the world was considered#so pls take that shit up with the person who actually wrote the post and stop acting like i personally came to your house#and yelled the words of whatever post at your grandma and then was mean to your dog
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imtheworst-imsorry · 1 year ago
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Depersonalization fucking sucks, especially when you’ve spent most of your working memory of your life feeling like you got stuck inside someone else’s body and yours is just Different than this one. Sometimes i see a picture of someone and i get this feeling of “that’s what i’m Supposed to look like, not this” and it’s so fucked up
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ilydeku · 5 months ago
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izuku loves to talk about you during interviews
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- anything and every topic it will ALWAYS be about you
- the question won't even be remotely related to you and still izukus answer will revolve around "y/n, my wife!!" <3
- oh, the glint in his eyes, the peaking smile when he speaks about you, lover boyyy
- the media knows he LOVE LOVES you, they think it's funny for this big, confident, mighty hero to be reduced to sap when it comes to you
- it's like his whole personality is HIS WIFE
- the journalists lowkey get so SICK of him for this, they don't want to invite him anymore 😭
- but they kinda have to, due to to his status as #1
"Good evening everyone and welcome Hero Talk! Tonight we'll be staring someone you all know and love, single handedly the greatest hero of all time, Deku! Alright, Deku how are you tonight?"
"Feeling pretty good! This is one of my wife's favorite shows, so I'm even more grateful to be here. And how are you?"
"Oh, same old. Really, just living. Now, we wanted to ask you some fun questions. Let's start with this one. Why did you want to become a hero?"
"Wow, haha! That really brings be back to my youth. When I was kid, my biggest influence was All Might, and he miraculously became my mentor. He was a good hero, and a good man. I wanted to be just like him: fearless, persevering, saving people with I smile. I would beg my mom everyday to watch this video on the computer of him saving a bunch a people. I was really swayed by All Might. I wanted to become a hero to make an impact in the world. I wanted to save people with a smile too."
"That sounds really endearing, Deku. I remember All Might's reign. He wasn't number one on the top charts all those years for nothing. So, did you ever think you'd be standing as Japan's top hero?"
"Well, it was never really my goal to become number one. That was Kacchan's- Dynamight's. My dream was, like I said, to become a hero and save others. But I have to say, it really is a blessing. I'd like to thank my Mom, All Might, my friends, and especially my wife for who I've become. My Mom has really done a lot for me growing up: protecting, encourage, and just always caring for me. All Might has kinda been that father figure for me when my Dad was away. My friends have shown me what it's like to work together and really be part of a heart. And my wife? Haha...I can't thank her enough for all the times she's been right by my side, even before we were together. Nothing I can say or do will ever be enough to express how much she means to me."
"Mm. Quite the supportive group. Your wife sounds like quite the lady!"
"She is. She's wonderful."
"Moving on to the next question, do you use social media often?"
"Occasionally, yes?? My wife uses it regularly, posting about us when we go out and stuff. It's mostly for her family to see how she's doing. She handles most of my official accounts. She says it's to be more appealing to the public, and I guess to show that there's more to heroes on the inside?? I'm not really sure, but I trust her process. Although, I'd rather be appealing to her alone."
"The public will always interested in a hero's private life! Now, Deku, what is your ideal setting of relaxation?"
"My wife doesn't like places that are too crowded or noisy, so maybe a cozy day at the beach?- but early in the morning or in the evening when the crowds calm down. Maybe a movie theatre, but days after the movie is released so it's just us together. Actually, a lazy day at home together is great too! Cooking meals and watching a movie on the couch? Really, any place is relaxing if my wife is with me."
(am i questioning Deku's wife or Deku!?) "How scenic! Those sound very fitting for you!! How about any restaurants?"
"Not really. My wife really knows how to cook, it's amazing! I love her home-cooked meals, so there's no way I'd go out of my way to a restaurant. But if my wife is feeling it, I'll be sure to make reservations."
"(sigh)"
"(smiling warmly)"
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dilatorywriting · 7 months ago
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Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 4]
Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 7.2k
Summary: It is very, incredibly important not to get attached to someone who will no doubt be leaving you high and dry to die stranded on an island any day now—be they man or fish. And you are definitely, definitely following that rule. For sure.
🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Spice
[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]
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The next morning, there was a conch shell set beside the familiar offering of half-mauled fish.
The insides were a shining, pearlescent pink—smooth and sleek. You picked it up curiously and turned it over in your palms. You’d never seen such a complete one before. Normally they were at least a bit dinged, cracked here or there along the thin edges. But this one was practically perfect. It sat heavy and warm in your palm, and you brushed a finger along the rough ridges.
You looked up and the Siren was lounging at the shoreline, waiting expectantly.
“Thank you,” you said. “It’s really pretty.”
He preened, the fins along the side of his head fluttering wide and colorful. You huffed, amused, and set the shell neatly at the forefront of your slowly accumulating corner of Things. You’d rebuilt the little shanty shelter that he’d had his seagull minions pick apart into useless nonsense that first day together, and it wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep some of the sun off your shoulders at the height of the afternoon and would probably (maybe) hold up under a bit of rain. And that pleasantly cozy hovel of yours was where you’d been keeping your Stuff. The best sticks for poking at the fire, a rock that you’d found with a dip in the middle that made it sort of, almost a bowl if you squinted hard enough, bunches of drying beach grasses that you’d been tediously twining together into bits of rope and other nonsense. That sort of thing.
You placed the conch shell on the roof of it, prodding at it with the tips of your fingers until it sat just so. Like a figurehead on a ship. The crown jewel on your little mess of ferns and driftwood.
“What do you think?” you asked, turning back to the Siren. “Really brings the room together, huh?”
He puffed something under his breath and rolled those amethyst eyes of his, but there was a curl to his lips that looked far more amused than irritated.
You trudged back over and plopped beside him in the sand, the soft, low roll of the waves playing against your toes.
“Today feels like it’s going to be gross again,” you sighed, squinting up at the sun overhead in distaste. The big ball of glowing fire had barely crawled its way over the horizon and already it felt like the world was beginning to steam.
The Siren curled his claws around your ankle and tugged.
You arched a brow at him and he pushed his stupidly, perfectly shaped ones up right back. Like he was positive that he could out stink-face you with ease.
“It’s too early to swim,” you complained.
He tugged again.
“I can’t be in the water that long. You’re going to turn me into a prune.”
He said something back, mouth quirking in irritation, and you focused hard on the shape of it. His expression smoothed with that familiar, near-eerie perception of his and he was reaching forward to dig his free fingers into the sand at your hip.
‘Don’t know what that is.’
“It’s like a—” you frowned, waving your hand around your head. “Y’know. A fruit, that’s gone pruney. A prune.”
He looked at you like you were the dumbest human he’d ever met, and to be fair you very well could have been. You doubted it was an extensive list. And even if it was, you tended to have a proclivity for landing near the top of those illustrious sorts of rankings either way. At least that’s what your Captain saw fit to remind you ad nauseum.
So, like the very mature and intellectually competent person that you were, you kicked a mess of seawater right into his face. And then the Siren was screaming something silent and mad that had all the goosebumps on your arms popping up to say hello, and he was dragging you into the shallows ass first. You skidded along the wet sand and landed in the white surf with a laugh that you had to swallow real fast. Because if you drowned in three inches of water just because you couldn’t manage to not choke to death on a giggle fit, you’d never forgive yourself.
.
.
That night, you were lounging by the fire with a belly full of seared snapper and the Siren curled just as contentedly only a few feet away. His fins were splayed out across the damp sands, and you couldn’t help but compare them yet again to some of the finest, spun silks you’d ever seen. Even when they’d been pinched and shredded beneath the prickly teeth of your ropes, they’d still been lovely. But now that they were near-fully-healed, the spread of them was truly impressive.
And they were. Almost healed, that is. You could barely make out the trailing, scar-puckered lines of even the biggest tears anymore. Which was good! Great, even. Because that meant he’d be able to begin his journey home soon, didn’t it? And then at least one of you would manage to get away from this barren mess of rocks and sand.
There was a thump against your thighs that had you jolting back into focus, and you looked down to see a pair of familiar, gem-cut irises staring back in the dark.
The Siren was glaring up at you like there was a Purpose to his sudden loss of personal boundaries, and you blinked down at him in confusion. After a long moment of nothing but your silent gawking, his brow started to pinch and the skin around his eyes went tight with irritation. The fins along his ears rippled like a pissy cat raising its hackles in preparation to lunge, and you cautiously placed a hand against the edge of one. The grumpy fluttering stopped all at once, and if you were a touch more sun-poisoned you would say that those delicate, purple pins relaxed against your palm. Either way, you were clearly on the right track. So you let your fingers trail down towards his temples, and then to the salt-curled waves of his hair. His eyes slipped closed with a pleasant rumble that you could feel all along your skin, and you puffed in half-hearted irritation. Prickly, fussy, bastard man.
You weren’t really sure what he wanted, but for now the gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp seemed to do the trick. After a few cycles of lazy petting, you let your fingers catch in some of the softer, pale hair beneath his fins. It was a bit tangled—possibly from all that frilly posturing of his—and you carefully began picking apart the small knots there one by one. Once those were cleared away, you found yourself with little else to do but sit and play with the newly freed waves of lavender-tipped gold. You tucked one strand over the next, twisting the familiar pattern of a simple braid beneath your palms.
“Deuce grew his hair out at one point,” you chattered idly as you wove those silky locks together beneath your fingers. “That’s someone from my ship, by the way. Deuce. Anyways. He thought it’d make him look more rugged, or whatever. But he just ended up looking like some rogue, sea elf, and everyone was teasing him about how he’d gone for ‘windswept sailor’ and ended up with ‘foppish, little lordling.’ So he chopped it all off again.”
The Siren hummed, and you could feel it against the pads of your fingers.
“Which was a real shame,” you continued. “Because obviously I spent all that time learning to braid it, but also because it actually looked pretty nice—OUCH! What is your problem—"
You yanked your hand away from his sharp teeth and cradled your smarting fingers to your chest. Because the stupid fish had bitten you! Not hard, or anything. Just a little nip. But it’d still hurt. If less as a genuine injury and more as a sting to your pride.
The Siren spat something quick and harsh under his breath, turning up his nose like you’d been the one to err here, and not his wandering fangs.
“What?” you huffed, reaching out to flick at those purple fins in irritation. They twitched against the side of his head to smack at your fingers. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I not allowed to call anyone else pretty, your highness?”
The Siren rolled his eyes with a look that screamed ‘well, duh,’ and you forced your irritation to override the little, bursting bubble of fondness in your chest. So silly, so silly. This ridiculously primped fish of yours.
“Well, too bad,” you grouched, tugging at the end of that half-bound braid. “Just because you win ‘most attractive specimen on the island’ doesn’t mean you get to tell me to pretend I’m blind on top of being deaf. Let me have something, you prick.” And it wasn’t like it was much of a competition—seeing as the entrants were you, him, and the octopus (if you were being generous). Less of a contest and more of a merciful slaughter, perhaps. A kindness that you were even allowed to share the same stage at all.
The Siren muttered something low and amused under his breath, the amethyst in his irises twinkling with the crackling, orange light of the embers beside you. He reached up to twist his claws along your palm and snatch the hand he’d so viciously nipped—bringing it down to eyelevel to observe it more closely in the dim glow of the fire. There was a steady trickle of blood bubbling up along your thumb. Honestly, not much worse than a papercut. Nevertheless, his brow quirked at the soft trail of red and his gaze jumped up to yours with a pointed sort of curiosity.
“What were you expecting to happen? Humans are fragile,” you huffed. “At least more than you are. It’s not like I have scales or things to keep me safe.”
His mouth tucked down on a frown, and his tail swept irritably back and forth through the sand.
“What? It’s not like you didn’t know that,” you tried, awkward. Because he ate stupid, little flesh bags like you for breakfast. Surely he ought to be well aware that there wasn’t much there. Just skin, and muscle, and all the gory, gooey bits beneath. Just like how you knew what it felt like to bite into a piece of bread, or the crunch of an apple. Solid enough to survive in its own right, but something that would give beneath your teeth easily enough that calling it anything other than ‘delicate’ would have been a gross exaggeration.
He turned your palm this way and that, brow pinching down more and more with each fresh prick of crimson. His tail beat against the sand and his talons curled up and away from your skin—like he was worried just touching your fragile, little, egg-shell of an exterior would burst it.
“It’s fine,” you blurted out, still far too confuddled over his progressive panic. You pulled your hand away from his claws and popped your finger in your mouth. “See?” you garbled around the faint taste of copper. And then pulled it out with a pop to show him the slowing trickle. “Totally fine. Just a scratch.”
The Siren watched that little bubble of red with all the vigilance of a hawk eyeing its super, and then he was snatching your wrist back between his talons and dragging your hand down towards his own mouth. And oh my God, this was it. He’d finally decided to eat you after all. What was it? Had your oh-so-breakable human foibles finally pushed him over the edge? Or was it the blood? Were Sirens like sharks? Driven to hungry frenzy by the very scent of your—
There was a gentle, wet warmth along your skin and you blinked through your hysteric descent into adrenaline-manic-mania to see the Siren carefully cleaning the blood along your cut, just as you had only moments before—his tongue running smooth lines along the teeny wound until the sore skin was tingling and spotless. Granted, his endeavors were carried out with a great deal more delicacy than your earlier example of just shoving your whole finger into your mouth like a gremlin, but…
“Uhm—” you spluttered, too gobsmacked to come up with much else. “You—ah—you don’t have to—uh—"
The Siren grumped something at you that you could feel the shape of against your palm, and then returned to diligently wiping away each new drop as it appeared. It was a strange sort of sensation. Not bristly like a cat’s tongue, but certainly not all human. There was a sting to it—something hot and prickly. Poison, maybe? Or… something. Whatever it was, it had the hair on the back of your neck rising to attention and a shiver working along your shoulders. He kept at, silent and meticulous, until finally—finally—the bleeding slowed to a stop. He hummed and turned your palm this way and that, looking over the drying nick in your skin like an artist admiring their work.
Once he was content with whatever it was he’d been searching for, he tucked your hand back along the fins at the side of his head and butted up against your palm in as blatant of a ‘get back to work’ as you’d ever seen.
You swallowed the weird mess of something that had clawed its way up to tangle your tongue and dug your nails back against his scalp just to give yourself something to do other than—than—
“I hope you don’t expect me to do that for you,” you babbled, still far too out of your head with What In The Fuck Was That to do much but gawk like an absolute imbecile at the fact that he’d actually, factually, just—
The Siren rolled his eyes and reached over to drag the point of his talon along the sand at your hip.
‘No need. Already healed.’
You barked out a startled laugh and tugged at the ends of his hair. Your fingers caught at the edge of the braid you’d been weaving, loosening one of the twining sections, and he was hissing and swatting your hands back into place—poking around with his dark claws at the little end you’d fussed with until it was exactly how it had been. And then was dragging your hands back to the half-woven bulk of it with a pointed snarl that was clearly an order to finish what you started, human. Or else.
“Okay, okay, jeesh. I’m on it.”
The Siren trilled low and rumbling under his breath, and beneath the weight of your palm it almost felt like the steady drone of a cat’s purr. Warm, and pleasant, and comfortable in a way you couldn’t quite place. The thin strands of chain-twined-rope you’d woven to make his necklace pressed into your thighs with a scratchy tickle, and the pretty piece of sea glass at its end reflected the low light of the fire in a kaleidoscope of purples. His fins flicked against your fingers in a steady tempo, and when you gave in and pinched one he was rolling onto his side to shove the full weight of himself into your lap. You whined, and bitched, and complained about suffocation, and the stupid bastard of a fish just smacked his tail indignantly against the wet sand and draped over you even more.
Seven, he was such a nightmare. And you were going to miss him so, so much.
.
.
The next day passed in much the same way as the one before, and the day after that, and the day after that. And as pleasant as it was, you couldn’t help but feel like the headsman's axe was hanging over your neck. Always there—just a breadth away from falling.
You were fixing your Siren’s hair—redoing that braid of his that he insisted you tuck into his golden locks each and every morning—and normally he was quite responsive to your prattling. Flicking you with his fins and curling his tail along your ankles as you rambled. A silent, steady way of expressing his interest when you couldn’t hear his own responses in return. But today he was… distant. Amethyst eyes locked on the grand expanse of the ocean before you with a forlorn sort of expression on his face. The water was still and quiet today, with sunlight bouncing off the low, rolling waves in a pretty glimmer like the glow off his own, shining scales.
You trailed off, fingers falling from his finished braid to twist in your lap. And he just kept staring. Fins half-pricked along the side of his head and gaze heavy with focus.
You swallowed around the tightness in your chest and forced a smile. You hopped to your feet with a merry, little bounce and reached down to pat him on the shoulder.
“It seems like a nice day for a swim,” you said, and ignored how you could feel your nerves eating through the words. The wobble of them in your throat.
The Siren startled, as much as someone as grandly majestic as he could really do such a thing, and turned your way with a fondly exacerbated huff. He held up a hand, like he was expecting to drag you along with him into the lulling tide, and you shooed away his fingers. His brow pinched and his mouth turned down at the corners.
“For you, I mean,” you clarified. Like your blatant stepping away from the water’s edge wasn’t an obvious rejection in its own right. You turned back out towards the ocean beyond your little cove. “Your fins are doing a lot better, aren’t they? You could probably stretch them a bit, right? With how smooth the waters are today.”
He hummed, considerate, gaze skirting out to track your own. You swallowed around another ball of prickling ice in your throat and kept your grin buoyant and encouraging.
And then he turned back and offered you his hand again.
You frowned, confused. “I can’t follow you out there.”
He rolled his eyes and leaned forward to dig his talons into the damp sand.
‘I will swim with you.’
A pause, where he reached out to poke at your ankle with a pointed jab, jab, jab before finishing off with a—
‘Like always. Stupid.’
“Oh, yeah? Well, I won’t be so stupid when you ditch me halfway out and I drown in the riptide,” you harrumphed and his eyes narrowed grumpily.
He dragged his claws through the sand in short, angry jerks.
‘Won’t leave.’
“Uh-huh,” you drawled, swallowing stiffly again when that curl of awful something tightened behind your ribs. Hoping you could manage to choke it down. It sat heavy and unpleasant on the back of your tongue, like food gone off.
He underlined the ‘won’t’ with hard, pissy strokes.
“How about this,” you tried, because man oh man, you couldn’t do this. It was going to turn you into a ridiculously weepy, clingy mess if he kept talking (writing?) like this. “Prove that your fins work well enough to keep you up and alive before I risk it. And then we can go from there.”
The Siren huffed, sending the longer ends of his hair flipping out to the sides. But those gem-cut eyes of his kept flicking out to sea, and you could see the tip of his tail twitching back and forth—like he was itching to just leap forward and swim. The fins along his ears pricked up again, and then he was turning his nose up at you with some petulant comment under his breath and diving forward into the surf. He smacked his tail down with a splash!, drenching you in a mess of salt and seafoam. You spat, and hacked, and scrubbed the water from your eyes.
“Great way to prove you won’t try and drown me!” you called, hands cupped over your mouth and still spluttering around lingering saltwater. He reared up quick enough to swipe another wave your way before slipping back under, and you laughed through the spray of mist.
You settled yourself back in the sand, ankles crossed and chin pillowed in your knees, and watched the shadow of him dance just beneath the surface—starting in his familiar, looping circles before slowly venturing towards the mouth of the cove. He paced along the breakwater, pectoral fins cresting above the waves to glint bright and sleek in the light of the morning. And then he was darting forward with a great beat of his tail, spraying salt behind him as he dove towards the depths. You waited, anxious, as one moment faded to the next, and then—finally—there was a burst of frothing bubbles as he broke the surface with a great, curling leap—fins flared wide like the wings of a great bird and scales shining like jewels. It was nearly effortless, how he crested over the water. Diving back down in a mess of spitting mists with a flick of those long, trailing fins. He leapt up again, twisting in the air to crash down on his back and it almost looked like he was dancing. You could see the white flash of his grin even from all the way where you were sat. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so happy. Truly, a sight worthy of every grand tale you’d heard of the Sirens of the Sea.
He circled the mouth of the bay at least a dozen times more—fast, and wild, and breaching the waves in a burst of seafoam like he was trying to give every pod of dolphins out there a run for their money. Gradually, he began to lose steam, and those grand leaps melted into soft curls of his tail in the tide. And honestly, this was the part where you expected him to sink beneath the surface and glide off into the sunset. You braced yourself for it—for the moment that golden head of his would vanish beneath the water and never pop back up again—but instead he bobbed closer.
The Siren rolled in with the waves, panting, and flushed, and looking like someone coming off of a marathon. The muscles all along his torso were jittery with the strain of it, and he looked positively exhausted. Ecstatic beyond compare, but exhausted. He slipped up the damp shore with wobbly arms and came to a stop at your side before very gracelessly and rudely flopping the entirety of his sopping wet bulk onto your person and squashing you into the muck.
You squawked, rightfully indignant, and he just puffed against your neck and let his tail smack harder against your flailing legs.
“You’re going to crush me!” you wailed, shoving at his shoulder.
He rolled his eyes and curled his fins along your hips—spreading himself out in the sands like your complaints held no merit whatsoever. You could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against yours, and the rabbit-fast thump-thump-thump of his heart. His skin was so warm. You could even feel the heat of it off his scales, which you hadn’t even thought was possible. Weren’t all fishy, scaly things supposed to be cold? Slimy, and gross, and like poking a wet blob of some unmentionable gunk scraped off the hull of a ship? Instead it was just… smooth. Glass-polish sleek and all warm muscle twined along your much, much smaller self.
You cleared your throat and turned to blow a frustrated raspberry against the sand.
“You do realize if you break all my bones that there isn’t going to be anyone to cook your stupid fish for you anymore.”
The Siren grumbled something against your shoulder that almost felt like the breathy puff of a laugh, and then he was collapsing all over again with a sigh that ruffled all the soft, short hairs at the nape of your neck. He scrubbed his cheek against the curve of your throat and you froze. Because it almost felt like—was he purring?
A deep, low, tremulous thing that you could feel rumbling against your skin. Like laying a hand against a mast strung too tight in a storm. Or maybe more like that one time you’d found a stray cat lounging in the sun by the docks—the sweet, old thing chirping softly beneath your palm in a lulling drone that tickled all the way up your arm.  
The Siren’s purr wasn’t quite like either of those things, but perhaps a mix of the two. Dangerous but warm, powerful but cosseted. More predator than pet, and, well, that’s what he was, wasn’t he? And honestly, it was pretty nice. A language you could feel rather than hear, something just for you.
So you let yourself relax beneath the weight of his scaly bulk with a sigh that wasn’t quite as aggrieved as you would have liked, and his tail twisted another loop around your calves. His fins spread around the pair of you like a roll of fine silks, and while the texture wasn’t exactly soft, they were delicate enough not to feel suffocating or coarse either. Sleek and cool to the touch, and maybe the thickness of canvas. And there were just so many of them. Long, and trailing, and ruffled along the edges like the folds of a fine-boned fan. Your weird, purple blanket. If Riddle ever found out you’d been using a Siren as bed linens, he’d probably have an aneurism and scrub you in one of the scullery buckets for a week straight.
It was stupidly easy to fall asleep like that—wrapped up in lavender and plum, with the thrum of his heart next to yours. You napped all through the afternoon, and only woke up once the sun had set over the horizon.
You blinked awake to stars in the sky and a strange, scratchy sensation at your hip.
The Siren had apparently finished up whatever little bout of insanity that had made him think you’d be the perfect impromptu pillow. He hadn’t gone far—or even anywhere at all really—but he was propped up at the hip now instead of crushing you into the shore. His hand was resting just beneath the hem of your shirt, right over the origin of that bizarre, ticklish feeling. You blinked again to clear the salt and sleep-grit from your eyes, and realized it was his talons. Not ripping, or tearing, or rending. Just very, very carefully tracing a set of shapes into your skin. The same three symbols, over and over. Up, and down, and up, and curled.
He traced those shapes again, and again, and again. It was almost—you’d think it was letters, if not for the strange, swirling pop of them. Almost like the words he’d written in his own language all those days ago. His claw dragged along the skin there in the faintest prickle, leaving slowly growing streaks of red in their wake with each repetition. You opened your mouth, ready to ask him what exactly he was so painstakingly etching into your hip, and paused.
You’d realized over the past however many weeks you’d been marooned on this little crescent of sand and stone that maybe Sirens weren’t all you’d thought them to be. And that maybe you really didn’t know much about them at all. Something about the slow, cautious way that his claws were tracking along your skin made you think that this was another of those things that you just didn’t get. And going by how quiet he was, how stalwart and careful he was being not to let the knife-sharp curves of those talons dig too deep or do anything other than trace back and forth, and back and forth, it might be something… Something important. Or at the very least something that you had no business bothering him about.
Least of all if he’d be leaving any day now.
So you tossed your head back on a very loud, very dramatic yawn and used the ensuing stretch to gently swat his hands away.
He didn’t look put out by your ridiculous show of flopping around and scooching out of his grip, so that was good at least. You sat up and rubbed at your eyes, and he just kept staring. Kept to his place in the soft, wet sand not a foot away and eyes sharp in the lowlight of the evening.
“Well,” you chuffed on another yawn. “I’m starving. Dinner?”
The Siren rolled his eyes and dipped his chin in what could perhaps generously be classified as a nod. He reached up to flick at the mused braid in his hair with a pointed scowl—twisted and tangled from the salt of the sea and his earlier rambunctious tomfoolery. You sighed, overly put upon, and hefted your way to your feet.
“Yes, yes. And I’ll fix your stupid hair.”
Another nod, this one far more pleased, and the Siren settled himself neatly back into the low roll of the waves to watch you work.
.
.
The next morning when you clawed your way back into consciousness, the Siren was already awake and staring off into the distance.
The fins along his head were pricked in that same, focused way from before that made you think of a hound dog catching a scent. There was a strange sort of energy about him—not quite nervous, but certainly not anything comfortably at ease either. Unsettled. Jittery. The end of his tail flicked against the sand, and the fins along his spine curled and arched to an unsung tempo.
You followed the path of his leer and didn’t see much of anything yourself. Just an endless stretch of blue in all directions with the occasional white crack of a wave breaking along its surface.
His tail smacked at the muck again and you felt something tight and stupidly, stupidly selfish curl in your stomach.
You swallowed it down, just like you’d said you would. Because you’d meant it when you’d told him he deserved his happy ending, and you weren’t going to let the rotten, nervous thing growing in your guts stop him from having that. Not that you could even if you wanted to, but it was the principle.
“…are you going to swim again today?” you asked, and one of those fins swiveled in your direction. You came to stand at his side and curled your toes in the sand to keep yourself steady. “You should, you know. To make sure everything is really all fixed.”
The Siren tore his gaze away from the sea to cant his head at you with a sharp, suspicious narrowing of his eyes.
You held your hands up in defense. “I’m just saying. You want to be able to go home, don’t you? Back to your pod?”
He frowned, tight, but his glare flickered back out to the mouth of the bay like he couldn’t help himself.
After a long, long moment, he reached out and dug his claws into the sand.
‘Not safe yet.’
You arched a brow. “Oh, come on. I’m sure it’s fine. If anyone could make it back, it’d be you.”
He turned back your way and arched a brow, looking entirely unconvinced.
You huffed and crossed your arms. “Don’t get all modest now. You’re the most obnoxiously proud person I’ve ever met—fish or otherwise. I’m sure you can do anything you set your mind to.”
His brow pinched again, and there was something almost like worry sparking in those amethyst eyes of his.
“Look—” you said, reaching out to plant a palm against his shoulder. “If it doesn’t work out, you can always just come right back here, okay? It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
You weren’t going to think about how nice that sounded, and how absolutely, bitterly selfish it was to hope that he’d turn right back around and head back. You weren’t.
The Siren’s brow pinched and he turned back to the open water, fins rippling against his sides and mouth twisted down at the corners.
You tugged at the braid in his hair.
“Don’t make me tie you back up again just so I can drag you out.”
He scoffed and spat something at you that looked like it was properly bitchy, and it had your lips quirking on a smirk. But prissiness or no, he’d started to let himself slip down against the surf, to lull deeper into the shallows and flare his fins at his sides for balance rather than a show of irritation.
You swallowed the last, lingering bite of dread at the back of your throat and offered him a winning smile.
The Siren huffed, and right before he sunk all the way into the water, he set his talons by your feet and scribbled—
‘Do not do anything stupid.’
“Yeah, yeah,” you waved off. “Sure.”
He underlined the ‘do not’ with a harsh sneer that could have made paint curl and the fiercest of generals quake in their boots, and you burst into peals of too-fond laughter.
“Okay, okay. I promise. Swear.”
He nodded, firm, and finally—finally—sunk beneath the surface with a grand, sweeping beat of his tail.
He circled the whole of the bay once, twice, thrice, and then set out past the breakwater with another of those bounding leaps that looked like something straight out of a painting.
You sat and watched the rolling waves until the sun was high in the sky, and then long after it had begun its creeping descent. Fat and sluggish over the horizon, dripping gold along the water like the strokes of a paintbrush. Until there were no shadows in the tide, no purple fins popping up from beneath the surface to smack at your ankles. There hadn’t been for hours now. The glint of his tail had slowly grown further and further away, and you’d been staring out at nothing for longer than not.
You stood with a sigh, legs wobbly and prickling with static as you stretched out of your scrunched up crouch.
You moved towards your little shanty hut and carefully readjusted the conch at its helm so that it sat just so. You stepped back with a soft nod and began your familiar trek towards the other side of the island, dutifully ignoring the stutter in your steps and that tight, miserable something twisting in your guts that you refused to name.
It was fine. He’d be home soon, surely. With his pod—his family. Which was what you’d wanted. And now… well, you had to go catch some dinner for you and your octopus. And there was no use waiting around.
.
.
You fucking sucked at fishing.
Which was a lesson learned with miserable, sopping wet consequences. You sat in front of your stupid fire, ringing out your stupid, soaked shirt, and sneezing in the chill of the night air. You’d never been responsible for hauling in food on The Rose Queen, and the Siren had basically been feeding your stranded ass from day one (whether intentional or otherwise). And so now here you were. Fishless, friendless, and freezing.
You sighed, miserable, and carefully made your way back to the familiar, little tidepool in the crags. You knelt down by the teeny pool of water there and the octopus inside was immediately scurrying for cover. When no tasty treats rained down overhead like the gift of some benevolent god, it slowly creeped its way out from beneath the stones with a trudging sort of paddling you wanted to call pouty.
“Sorry, little guy,” you huffed. “I don’t have anything for you today.”
You reached forward and the octopus panicked—trying to flee so fast that the poor thing wound up twisting itself in knots. Its stubby tentacles curled and flailed uselessly in its puddle, and you tutted in sympathy. You scooped the blob into your palms and immediately four sets of tentacles were curling around your fingers like a lifeline. Its little suckers pulled at your skin with sticky smacks as it tried to burrow away into your skin. And Sevens—OW! What the Hell!
“Chill, chill!” you squawked, trying to wrangle the thing more securely into your hands and stop it from pinching the flesh clear off your bones. “I’m just—would you—look, I don’t want to drop you, okay? So would you just—"
The octopus screamed, and you didn’t even think that was possible. You could feel the sharp, yowling vibrations of it all along your fingers and a few of the gulls nesting along the rocks took off into the air with a harried flurry of feathers and scrabbling claws. Their wings thwacked the back of your head and you swatted them away with a shrill scream of your own. Why did everything on this stupid island have to be a no good, dramatic, serenading, piece of shi—
“Fine!” you shrieked, feeling your molars ache with it. “Begone!”
And hurled the thing as far as you could over the edge of the rocky shore. It landed in the water with a lackluster plop of fat bubbles and immediately darted away like a prisoner fleeing captivity. And not, you know, the benevolent hand of the very lovely pirate who had been feeding and caring for it all these weeks.
You kicked angrily at a mess of pebbles, and then swore loud and furious when all it did was scuff up your toes and prick bruises into your heels.
You trudged back to your stupid, little hovel and collapsed miserably into the sand.
Here you were, trying to be noble, and kind, and give all of these ridiculous sea creatures the second chance at life that you would never have. And what did you get for it? An empty stomach, an aching heart, and gravel in your fucking feet—
“Well,” you chattered to yourself. Pleasantly poisonous and tendons jumping in your jaw, “I suppose at least it can’t get much worse.”
Which should have been the universe’s signal to do something truly petty. The skies opening overhead in a torrential downpour. Your little, stick home collapsing under the sheer weight of your patheticness. A crab scuttling up from the depths just to pinch your toes. Something like that.   
Instead, there was a gentle breeze that tickled your cheeks and coaxed you into looking out over the horizon.
There was something there—something in the distance that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were curled up suffering in the sand. You sniffled past angry tears and scrubbed the back of your hand over your nose, and then let that touch of wind guide you forward on wobbly legs.  You had to climb all the way up the salt-slick rocks to get a good look at it. But there it was. Not too far at all actually.
A ship.
Large, and wooden, and cresting through the low rolling waves with all the ease of the monstrous vessel it looked to be. There was a silver insignia emblazoned on its side, but it was still too far away to make out the particulars. But you didn’t care, because it was a ship. An actual, factual ship.
You waved your hands high over your head and shouted at the top of your lungs.
And holy shit, holy shit—maybe the universe didn’t actually hate your poor guts. Maybe there’d be a happy ending to this whole thing after all.
You watched in the distance as an anchor dropped, and you had to stop yourself from tumbling off your rocky perch in your excitement. One of the small dinghies was lowered into the water and a gaggle of crew climbed down to man it. Slowly but surely, that little boat grew closer, and you sprinted down to the shoreline to meet it.
A man with short, dark hair climbed over the side and met you halfway. His eyes were soft, and brown, and kind, and he offered you a warm smile when you nearly tumbled straight into him in your haste—catching a hand around your arms and helping keep you upright.
He said something polite that you assumed was the usual sort of greeting and intrigue into how exactly you’d managed to find yourself in this state of affairs, and you hastily made to explain your situation as you always did.
‘Thank you—I can’t hear, but I can write and read—And I—’
Your train of thought cut off sharply, and your rambling explanations with it. The brunette was already nodding your way in sympathy and rattling off instructions to his crew. They were all decked out in slightly differing variations of the same, white and navy uniform. With golden buttons and sashes glinting in the low light and silver pendants pinned to their breast pockets. Your doe-eyed savior turned back your way and offered you his arm with another of those sap sweet smiles that lit his cheeks in a merry, rosy pink.
You hesitated, throat bobbing around something tight and cold that curdled along the back of your tongue.
Twining songbirds, wings frozen in flight as they soared up towards an endless sky.
The intricate, little emblem stared back at you proudly from its place on his chest, and you couldn’t help but think of the Siren who’d only just left your cove a few hours before.
‘Not safe,’ he’d demanded, dragging you away from the wreck so frantically you’d nearly drowned from it. ‘Not safe.’
The brunette’s smile wavered at your hesitance, and he wrapped his hand around yours to tug you into the boat.
You climbed in on wobbly legs, because—what else were you supposed to do? Stay stranded on this little patch of sand and stone until you starved to death or went mad from loneliness? Run? From sailors with swords on their belts as long as your arm? To hide on an island that you could traverse in its entirety in a half hour or less? You were always one to happily snatch up the weird and wonderful opportunities life could present to you and run them into the ground, but now… What else was there?
You were settled against one of the small, wooden benches and the brunette shucked off his jacket to drape over your shoulders and the silver songbirds glinted in the low light. He offered you another of those warm, warm smiles before turning to call an order to his crew.
You sighed, miserable, and slouched against the siding—fingers dangling down to brush along the surface of the water.
‘Do not do anything stupid,’ your Siren had said.
And you’d really been hoping to last more than twenty-four-freaking-hours before inevitably breaking that promise, but it seemed the universe really was out to get you after all.
.
.
.
[TAG LIST - CLOSED]
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chaoticwriting · 27 days ago
Text
Danny X Cass part 1
The tension is high in the Watchtower currently. It is bad enough that the JL get news that Darkseid plans to invade Earth a few weeks ago when suddenly the Teen Titans contacted the JL that Trigon might actually invade Earth soon too.
Currently all the heroes are discussing possible scenarios and plans to counter the attack when suddenly a shadow moves behind Batman and pocks his sides.
Batman turns and sees his daughter, Cassandra, looking at him. She starts making hand signs and confused Batman momentarily.
'Call Friend. Might help.'
"Who's your friend? Is there anyone else that can help that isn't here?"
To that question, Cass stalls for a moment. She seems fidgety like she is nervous about something.
'Old friend. Also hero.'
Batman thinks for a moment and decides to give in. He might have a way to fend of the invasion of Darkseid and Trigon at the same time but not without heavy casualties. That plan is only for the worst case scenario.
Giving a nod to her daughter, Cass immediately beamed and goes to a far corner of the meeting room. Batman looks at her daughter that looks almost giddy for once. He doesn't know who she is calling but if she trust the other person, then he is also willing to try to trust whoever she is calling.
Cass sits in a corner where there is no one else near her and pulls out an old cell phone. A green light shines from the phone as Cass turns it on and a text is received just as she about to message the person.
Danny 🥰❤️🥰
Danny: Hey Cass, would you be free for a date? I wanna show you something cool I just get.
Cass: Can't go. Trigon and Darkseid are invading Earth. Very busy. Dad is stressed. Can you help?
Danny: Sure. I can go beat up Trigon and I'm sure Dan would gladly go and beat up Darkseid. He's been complaining about not being able to have a good fight since I have become too powerful for him. 😎😎
Cass: Come in Phantom. Introduce you to everyone.
Danny: Ok now you are making me nervous. Should I bring your dad gifts? Should I wear a formal wear or casual wear? Oh no! What if your dad doesn't like me? 😱😰😨
Cass: Don't worry. Dad will like you. Dad is paranoid. But he loves me.
Danny: Maybe I should gifts him an ecto-weapon? I heard he likes to make contingency plans. Surely he would like me more if I give him stuff to fund his hobby.
Cass: Hobby?
Danny: Y'know. Making contingency plan. I think that is his hobby. Like I understand if he has 1 or 2 contingency plans for each heroes but doesn't he have like 50 for each heroes?
Cass: 😂💕. No bringing ecto-weapon. Might hurts you.
Danny: It's fine. I will give it to him if he asks. Anyway, where should I meet you?
Cass: Watchtower.
Danny:Alright. See you in a minute. Bye 👋👋
Cass: 👋👋
Cass puts down her phone and is startled when a purple hoodie peeks from above her shoulders.
"Ooooo, is that your boyfriend? No wonder you are so protective of that phone. How dare you not tell me you have a boyfriend? Does our friendship means nothing to you?"
The figure clad in purple says dramatically. Cass push her away and stares at her angrily. Even though she is in full costume the purple still knows when she is mad.
"Steph. Bad peeking."
"Sorry, Sorry. I can't help it seeing you so secretive like that. I promise I will not do it again."
Lies. Both of them knows Steph is lying.
"Anyway, who is that? You know you shouldn't tell our situation to outsiders right? B might be mad if he knows."
"B says ok."
"Oh what? I never get permission to tell people stuff. This is blatant favoritism."
Cass looks at her smugly. Of course she knows she is the favorite. That's why she knows Batman will approve of Danny no matter what.
A commotion rises suddenly from the center of the room and Cass and Steph turn towards it ready for battle. They can see the members of JLD panicking about something when suddenly a green portal opens right in the middle of the room.
From the portal, a tall figure steps out with powerful presence emitting from him. His silver white hair falls down to his neck and his black and white hazmat suit gives of the feeling of awe whenever someone looks at him.
All the heroes in the room get into a fighting stance except a select few.
"Hello everyone. I am Phantom and I am here to help."
The figure's voice is not loud but everyone can hear it like it is spoken right besides them.
Before anyone could say anything a figure bypasses everyone and sprints towards Phantom. Unfazed, Phantom spreads his arm and the figure flies into his arm. Phantom gives the figure a hug and she replies with a tighter hug.
"I miss you." Cass says silently.
"I miss you too." Danny whispers and sends the voice to her only.
While everyone is still confused and stunned on what is going on, Constantine curses and brings everyone's attention back.
"Fucking hell. Whatcha doing here kid? I never call you did I."
The figure looks up and stares at Constantine. Everyone starts to become nervous and thought the figure is going to attack them when he just smirks.
"Of course it is not you. You only call me if you need my help to deal with your ex or something. You should really stop dating all these interdimensional demons y'know. There are only so many times I can save you."
Phantom's rebuttal gets a few snickers and gasps from the crowd.
"Fuck you, kid. What are you even doing here? And why are you holding one of the bats?"
"Do you hit your head somewhere in hell, Constantine? What does this looks like? I'm going to eat her?"
That comment makes a few figures in the crowd tense for a moment before Constantine next word baffles them more.
"No fucking way. You're dating one of the bats. Fucking hell. I don't want to be part of this shit anymore. Y'all can go fuck yourself."
Constantine then picks up his flask and opens a portal to return to House of Mystery. Just as he's about to step into the portal, Superman speaks up.
"Wait, Constantine. We still need your help in dealing with Trigon and Darkseid."
John stops in his tracks and looks at Danny. He chugs down all the remaining alcohol in his flask before replying.
"If that kid can't handle this problem, then we might as well just lay down and wait for our demise."
He then steps into the portal and disappears. Everyone looks at Danny that is still holding Cass in a hug and the awkwardness can be felt in the air.
Danny releases Cass that releases a whimper that is picked up by a few figures primarily the big bat.
"So, hello. I am Phantom and as I say, I am here to help."
Part 2
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vivwritesfics · 9 months ago
Text
Max Verstappen Shirt
The fans and fellow wags don't like it when she wears the same out fit to a Grand Prix. She doesn't much care
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There were quite a few things Max liked about dating an ordinary girl. 1) she had no idea who he was. 2) she had no idea who his friends were. 3) she didn't expect anything from him.
Max could get takeout for them while they watched a movie and she would be happy. He didn't have to take her out to fancy, overpriced restaurants. He didn't have to take her out shopping for a new outfit every time they left the apartment.
Now, Max would have done all if this I'd she asked. But she didn’t ask. She appreciated him the way he was.
It was a little while into their relationship before Max took her to her first Grand Prix. Her outfit was cute and extremely weather appropriate. A cute top and a cute pair of jeans. Max walked her through the paddock with his hand on the small of her back.
When Max won, he ran over to his team, jumping into their arms. And then he was taking his helmet off, replaced it with his hat and walked over to her, kissing her slowly. (It was captured on video, and circulated the Internet for weeks. Every time it came across her feed, she couldn't stop herself from sending it to Max).
At the next Grand Prix she dressed as well as she could. The jeans were the same, but the top was different. Her outfit was both complimented and criticised online.
Not that she saw the criticism. No, all she saw was the video of Max kissing her after his win. Of her wrapping her arms so tight around him as she peppered kisses all over his face beforing giving him maybe the most memorable kiss of his life.
She knew Max had money. She was aware of it every time she flew in his private jet. Every time she stayed in his Monaco apartment. Every time he drove her in his cars. She knew he had money, but she didn't want him buying her stuff.
No, that wasn't the reason she was with him. She wasn't there because he was an F1 driver, because he could buy her everything she ever wanted. She was there because he was a cute, slightly dorky guy that she wanted to spend every waking minute with.
She remembered the first time she wore the same thing twice to a Grand Prix. The outfit was so cute, but it didn't matter how cute it was.
So far, all of the other wags had been so lovely to her. They were kind, but she hadn't been around long enough to really be friends with any of them.
It was Daniels girlfriend that pulled her to one side before the race. The two had spent the most time together out of any of the wags she had met so far (aided by Maxs friendship with Daniel).
"Hey Love," she said, wearing a charming smile as she wrapped her arms around her. "I love the top. Have I seen it before?" Daniels girlfriend asked.
Y/N couldn't help but grin as she looked down at her top. "Thanks!" She grinned. "Found it really cheap, wore it to Monaco," she said.
Daniels girlfriend sucked in a breath. "Well, as a general rule, Wags don't wear the same outfit to two grand prix," she said, her hand on her shoulder. "Not unless they really have to."
The way she said it, she was clearly implying something. But she wasn't the only person thinking it. There were people online saying the same thing.
"Well, nice catching up," Daniels girlfriend said and walked away, leaving her alone.
She couldn't bring herself to look dejected as she walked back to the Red Bull garage. Unlike other Wags, she didn't have the funds for a new outfit every race. Max would have been only too happy to buy her a new outfit for every Grand Prix if she asked.
But she wouldn't ask.
"What's up?" Asked Max as she walked towards him with an unintentional pout on her lips.
She quickly replaced the pout with when she looked up at him. "Nothing," she said. "Just hold me."
Doubt and all kinds of negative feelings consumed her. But she was a fighter and she needed to do something about it.
There are incredible things you can find on Etsy, like This Shirt Right Here. She bought herself one. No, she bought herself five. The first time she turned up wearing one, it was iconic. The second time she went to a Grand Prix wearing one, it was still iconic.
If the wags and the fans had a problem with her wearing the same thing to each Grand Prix, they could suck her dick.
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salemrph · 2 months ago
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"A Hunter's Christmas Hustle" Sylus x MC
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Summary: With Christmas around the corner, you’re on a mission to find the perfect gift for everyone, that's included Sylus, a famously tricky person to shop for. You asked for help but can the twins really help you? Sometimes the effort is the best part of the holiday magic.
Character: MC x Sylus
Genre: holiday comedy, slice-of-life, fluff | Pet names : Kitten, Sweetie, Miss Hunter.
| Word count: 3.916 | Reading Time: 16 min |
A/N: Since this is the first Christmas of Love and Deepspace, at least for me, I'm looking forward for a special Event and have a cute moment between Sylus and MC.
Second part🌲: A Hunter's Christmas Hustle: X-mas morning
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You lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It still feels a bit strange staying at Sylus’ place on your days off. Well, it was mostly his doing— he’d insist or come up with some random excuse or side mission to make you stay. So, at the end you agree to come visit him without needing to drag you in dirty business. It's cozy here, even if you’re not quite used to it yet.
Like always you scroll through your phone, noticing you getting a lot of Christmas ads. You squint at the screen, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the holiday promotions. Suddenly, you glance at the date on your phone. Fuck! Christmas is in 1 week. And you haven’t prepared anything. Weren’t there also a Party coming up with the team? No, no, no! You go trough the calendar. There is it: 24 of December. Christmas Party with Team.
You need to go shopping, ordering stuff now would only arrive too late. 
“Okay, okay,” you mutter, trying to make a mental checklist. “I need a present for Tera, flowers for Grandma’s and Clab’s graves...” You pause, feeling a bit emotional at that thought. You take a deep breath and continue, making a list out loud.
“Then there’s Zayne, Xavier, and Rafayel…” Your head starts spinning as you realize just how much you have to do. 
How could you forget? Have you really been that busy lately? It’s not like the whole city isn’t decked out in lights, giant Christmas ads, and festive music playing in every store. 
You realize with a sigh that maybe you’ve been spending way too much time in the N109 Zone, far from the holiday cheer.
“What can I get for the twins...?” you mumble to yourself. Luke and Kieran can be annoying sometimes, but you do like them. Why not bring them a small gift? Then again, you hesitate. If you get something for the twins, Sylus will definitely bother you about it until the end of your days, asking why he didn’t get anything. You're starting to sweat. Maybe he locks you up again in the basement, just for fun. Or worse, he could show up at the Hunters' Association and declare that you are his lover or something. A shiver runs down your spine. This man can be terrifying. 
You know very well how to please your friends and colleagues but Sylus… What do you bring to the man that has everything? 
“Why is he even so fucking rich?” you mutter under your breath, looking around the guest room. The guest room of course has the style of the rest of the mansion. Black. You roll your eyes, feeling a mix of annoyance and admiration. You flop back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it holds the answers. You need something unique, something meaningful... but what could that be? 
You scroll through your phone frantically, searching for bundles, deals, and last-minute gift ideas. In just an hour, you’ve managed to check off most of your list.
Tera: A relaxing spa voucher—she could use a break.
Zayne: A pack of his favorite macarons, winter edition—he’ll love them.
Xavier: A cozy new sweater—you’ve told him a million times not to fall asleep everywhere. You sigh, picturing him dozing off on some random spot.
Rafayel: A unique shell you found on a mission weeks ago. You haven’t had a chance to give it to him yet, but now’s the perfect time.
Flowers: Ordered, check.
You tap your phone, thinking about the twins, Luke and Kieran. What would they like? You decide on some kind of gadget or toy—they’re like two overgrown kids sometimes, and they’ll appreciate anything they can mess around with.
Another hour passes, and you’re still glued to your phone, opening and closing tabs like a mad person. Your brain is starting to fog up from the overload of gift ideas.
“No... no... lame... oh god, definitely not.” You swipe through a blog about gifts for wealthy people and somehow end up on a page titled “Top 10 Gifts for Your Rich Boyfriend.” Your cheeks go bright red as you skim the list: sexy underwear, romantic getaways, candlelit dinners...
“NO!” You throw your phone onto the bed like it’s on fire, covering your face with your hands. What am I even doing?
You take a deep breath, trying to calm down. Maybe you could ask Luke and Kieran for help. They’re close to Sylus and probably know more about his preferences than you do. Plus, he did say you could “use” them whenever you wanted. Why not use them as counselors and pack mules?
Since you don`t want Sylus sniffing around you, you think about a small lie. Or maybe just ask without giving information. The same way he always does 
...
"I need Luke & Kieran for an important mission, can you borrow me them?"
Sylus looks up from his desk, his red eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. He leans back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he regards you. 
"Mission? What are you planning, kitten?" Sylus raises an eyebrow at your words.
"Nothing… jus- they will come back in one piece."
He studies you for a moment, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. He seems to be enjoying your vague and cryptic request, and he's clearly intrigued by what you might be up to. 
"…Alright. You can take them for whatever this 'important mission' is. But they better come back in one piece, or I'm holding you responsible, sweetie. And you don't want to pay the price...“ he snaps his fingers. Both appear immediately. As if they had been hiding in the office. 
"Luke, Kieran, the kitten needs you for a... mission. Do as they say. I expect impeccable work."
"Yes, boss!“ They say in unison.
"Let’s go, guys." I lead them out of the office. "See you, Sylus!"
That was easy. Maybe to easy.
He laughs after the door closes. Wondering how you're going to surprise him this time. He's learned to just go with the flow even though he might have the answer to your little secrets. He just smiled, turning back to focus on his paperwork.
“What are we going to do, miss?” Luke asks with a mischievous grin.
You roll your eyes. “I told you, just call me by my name.”
“Are we blowing something up?” Kieran blurts out, making an exaggerated explosion noise with his mouth.
“Or… cleaning up a messy murder scene?” Luke chimes in, smirking.
“Maybe torture someone!” Kieran’s eyes light up, clearly getting way too excited at the thought.
You sigh, regretting this decision already. They’re like two hyperactive hamsters—deadly, but still hamsters.
“No, no, and no!” you say firmly, waving your hands for emphasis.
“Uuuhhh...” They groan in unison, visibly disappointed.
“We have a better mission,” you declare, crossing your arms. “Change into something decent. We’re heading back to Lincoln City.”
Finally, you’ve arrived in the city. It’s strange seeing them without their usual uniforms and masks. Dressed in casual clothes, they look more like model college boys than the deadly assassins they actually are. Most of the girls passing by can’t help but glance their way, clearly debating whether they should approach the handsome twin brothers.
You snort to yourself. Probably they would’ve attracted less attention in their usual assassin gear.
You’re standing in the middle of the bustling shopping district, the holiday decorations casting a festive glow around you. Luke and Kieran are busy taking in the sights, clearly amused by the sudden change of scenery. You clear your throat to get their attention.
“Alright, listen up,” you say, trying to sound authoritative. “The mission is...” They lean in, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Shopping” you declare.
“Shopping?” they repeat in unison, voices filled with disbelief.
Luke looks like he’s trying not to laugh, while Kieran’s expression twists into mock horror.
“Wait, wait,” Kieran says, holding up a hand. “You dragged us all the way out here... for shopping?”
“Yes, and you’re going to help me,” you reply.
Luke smirks, giving you a playful nudge. “You sure this isn’t just an excuse to spend time with us, Miss?”
You shoot him a glare. “Call me by my name, Luke.”
“Right, right,” he says, grinning.
“I actually need your help for...” you trail off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. You look away, rubbing the back of your neck. “Christmas is around the corner, and I wanted to buy Sylus something. I’m not sure what it should be, so...” 
Before you can finish, Luke and Kieran burst into giggle. They exchange a quick, knowing glance, clearly delighted by your admission.
“Oh, so you want to buy our boss a present, huh? That’s pretty cute” Luke teases, smirking.
Kieran nudges him with his elbow, grinning from ear to ear. “And you’re asking us for help? Luke, maybe she does have a soft spot for boss after all.”
You feel your cheeks flush, but you roll your eyes to cover it. “Are you two going to help me or not?”
Luke straightens up, placing a hand on his chest with a mock-serious expression. “If you’re serious about buying a gift for the boss, then you’ve definitely come to the right place. We don’t call ourselves his right-hand men for nothing.”
You exhale, feeling a bit relieved now that they seem genuinely eager to help. “I want something special. Something he wouldn’t expect, but that he’d actually like.”
Kieran tilts his head, pretending to think deeply. “Something unexpected, huh? Well, that’s tricky. Sylus pretty much has everything.”
“Yeah, exactly,” you say, feeling a bit helpless. “I was thinking about getting him some records, but he already has so many...”
Luke and Kieran nod in agreement, their expressions thoughtful. 
“It’s a good start. He does love his music. But you don’t want to give him something he already has, right?” Luke asked. 
“How about something more personal?” Kieran suggests, tapping his chin. “Something that shows you put a lot of thought into it. A gift only you could give him.”
You bite your lip, considering it. “Personal... but how?”
“Well, it doesn’t have to be anything fancy,” Luke says, shrugging. “The boss isn’t as complicated as he looks. He’d appreciate anything that comes from you.”
Kieran gives a playful smirk. “You could just wrap yourself up with a bow, and he’d be over the moon.”
“Kieran!” you gasp, your cheeks turning red as you lightly smack his arm. He laughs, dodging away with a wink. 
Luke chuckles but gives you a more genuine smile. “He’s joking—mostly. But seriously, boss isn’t the kind of guy who cares about expensive gifts. He’d value something that reminds him of you, or a shared memory.”
You pause, mulling it over.
Kieran nudges Luke, a sudden spark lighting up his eyes. “Hey, what about that old record shop on the Avenue? They’ve got vintage records you can’t find anywhere else. You could look for a rare one, maybe something with a story behind it.”
Luke nods, his eyes brightening as well. “Yeah, and you could pair it with a handwritten note. Tell him why you picked it. He’d love that.”
You smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. “That’s... actually a great idea. Thanks, you two.”
Kieran gives you a thumbs-up. “No problem, but you owe us for this.”
Luke grins. “Yeah, and don’t forget to give us the credit when he’s showering you with kisses later.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Fine, fine. Now let’s go before I change my mind.”
The twins laugh, and the three of you set off down the busy shopping street, feeling a new wave of excitement. Maybe this gift hunt wasn’t going to be so impossible after all.
In the end, you managed to buy everything for your friends—even for Captain Jenna, who isn’t exactly easy to shop for. But as you wandered through the record store, flipping through album after album, nothing stood out. Everything felt generic, impersonal. And you know Sylus well enough to realize that giving him something half-hearted would just fuel his endless teasing for weeks. 
By the end of the day, the twins delivered you at home after treating them for dinner. You're tired and leave all your bags in the living room of your apartment. You throw yourself down on the couch and take out your phone. Maybe you were overthinking this. A nice accessory or a bottle of whiskey could work—he has a taste for the finer things, after all. It wouldn’t be anything cheap, either; you can afford something like that with your Hunter salary.
The day passes, only 2 days for Christmas and you still have nothing. 
Desperate for ideas, you even tried bringing it up with Tera over lunch. That turned into a chaotic disaster, though. It was exhausting dodging her barrage of questions:
“Who’s the gift for? Why are you even so worried? Wait, do you have a new boyfriend? I demand to meet him!”
You had to laugh it off, making up half-baked excuses until she finally dropped it—though you could tell she didn’t believe you.
And then there was Sylus himself. Yesterday, he sent you an invitation to a Christmas dinner. You wanted to say yes, but you had already committed to the Hunters’ Association Christmas party that same night. You tried to decline, but after some back-and-forth, you reluctantly agreed to meet him afterward.
Now, sitting alone on the couch, you can’t help but replay that conversation in your mind. The way his voice softened when you said you couldn’t make it, the slight pause before he insisted on seeing you later anyway—it made your chest tighten. He sounded almost... disappointed. And that’s what makes you want to find something truly meaningful, something that will show him how much he means to you without you having to say it out loud.
You look at your reflection in the darkened screen of your phone, feeling a mix of frustration and anticipation. You’re running out of time. If you’re going to surprise him with something from the heart, you need to figure it out now.
With a new sense of determination, you push yourself off the couch and grab your coat. Maybe you won’t find the perfect gift sitting around here. It’s time to get back out there and keep looking, because if there’s one person you want to make smile this Christmas, it’s Sylus. But be honest, you´re not going to admit that. Not yet. 
...
It’s Christmas! The party with your unit is small but cozy. The space is filled with the warm glow of twinkling lights, the scent of spiced wine, and the sound of laughter echoing off the walls. You drink, you eat, and you feel a rare sense of contentment as you watch everyone enjoying the night. It’s moments like these that remind you why you love this chaotic, ragtag team.
The gifts you bought last minute seem to have gone over well. Captain Jenna grinned when she unwrapped the sleek new knife you picked out for her—a practical gift, just like she’d like it. Xavier looked genuinely pleased with the soft, oversized sweater you chose, already pulling it on and joking about how he wouldn’t fall asleep everywhere now. Tera hugged you tight, eyes sparkling as she held up the spa voucher. “You really do know me,” she said with a teasing smile.
Earlier in the morning, you made a quick stop by the hospital to drop off the bag of special winter-edition macarons for Zayne. And you place the flower on the graveyard. Pray for them and wishing that you could spent one more day with them.
You glance at your watch. It’s getting late, and you promised Sylus you’d meet him after this. You take a deep breath, excusing yourself quietly from the party. Tera shoots you a knowing look as you head for the door, but she doesn’t say anything—just gives you a little wave, as if to say, good luck. 
You pull your coat tighter around yourself, clutching the gift in your hand as you start walking. There’s a mixture of excitement and fear bubbling up inside you.
Suddenly your watch vibrates urgently and flashes a warning: MetaFlux Fluctuation Detected. Your heart skips a beat. A Wanderer? Now?! You glance around, scanning the quiet street for any signs of danger. The distant sound of a woman’s scream breaks the silence, and without hesitation, you sprint in the direction of the noise, already reaching for your weapon. 
The first Wanderer lunges out from the shadows, its distorted form shifting and writhing in the dim light. You don’t waste a second. One precise shot, and it disintegrates into a cloud of shimmering dust.
„My child! Where is he?“ the woman cries out, panic in her voice. You look around fast, this is not over. 
„Mom!! Help!“ You hear the voice of the kid nearby and run over. You bolt towards the sound, pushing your legs harder. You reach the boy just in time, shielding him with your body as another Wanderer lunges forward. The creature’s claws slice through the air, narrowly missing you. You fire three quick shots, each one hitting its mark. The Wanderer lets out a guttural screech before it vanishes into thin air, dissolving into the night.
"Are you okay?“ you ask, your voice softer now, concerned. The boy nodded. His mother rushes over, wrapping her arms around him and thanking you over and over, her voice thick with emotion.
The mother and child thank you from the bottom of their hearts before leaving. You tell them to please stop by the hospital, just in case. You wave goodbye to the boy. Sigh. What a night!
"Where's my bag?" you mutter, scanning the area. You spot it lying on the ground, right where you dropped it before sprinting into action. Relief floods through you—until you notice the dark, wet stain spreading across the fabric. 
"No, no, no! Please no," you whisper, crouching down and unzipping the bag with trembling hands. The bottle of whiskey you were hunting down the last two days. Is shattered in thousand pieces.
Your heart sinks. This wasn’t just any whiskey—it was a rare, vintage bottle from a small distillery he’d mentioned once, in passing, when he thought you weren’t listening.
„Fuck!" 
You stand up, clutching the soaked bag, and check the time on your watch.
22:30.
You’re supposed to meet Sylus in half an hour, and you’re still a good fifteen minutes away from his place. Panic bubbles up inside you. Maybe you can find a late-night shop that carries something similar. Maybe there’s still a chance to fix this.
"I can make it," you say aloud, more to convince yourself than anything.
You finally arrive at the meeting point—a lookout near the water. It’s the same place where you spent last winter with him, watching the fireworks together.
“Kitten, you told me you were at a party, not a battlefield. What happened?”
“Eh?”
You’ve been running around for the last 30 minutes trying to find that stupid bottle and make it on time to meet Sylus. A little embarrassed, you attempt to fix your clothes and smooth your hair. Your cheeks are flushed from the effort. Sylus stands there in his black coat, looking amazing as always. Your heart beats hard in your chest. He watches you, trying to piece together what happened, and then a smile tugs at his lips.
“Even on days like this, you don’t get a break, Miss Hunter?” He runs his hand gently across your face. You flinch slightly, wincing in pain. “You’ve got a small cut. So... are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Nothing, just a Wanderer. It will heal,” you say with a shrug. He sighs softly.
“Careless as usual.” He pulls a small band-aid from his pocket. “Stay still.”
“Why do you have something like that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“It so happens that I have a kitten who never pays attention to their injuries,” he teases.
You make an exaggerated offended grimace, but inside, it feels like a small gesture of affection. He places the band-aid gently over the cut.
“I’ll consider this your Christmas gift,” you joke.
He laughs. “Oh no, sweetie, that wouldn’t be enough. But I’m impressed with your minimalist idea of happiness.” He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an envelope.
“You didn’t have...”
“Open it up. And thank me later.”
You take the envelope cautiously, slowly peeling it open. Could it explode? You shake your head at the silly thought. When you finally look inside, your eyes widen, and you let out a soft squeal of excitement.
“Are you for real? This tickets has been sold out for months. How did you…?”
“I have my ways, sweetie,” he replies with a smug smile.
“Thank you,” you whisper, genuinely touched.
“It’s always a pleasure making you happy.”
But your excitement fades quickly as the realization sinks in. He’s managed to make you immensely happy again, while you stand here empty-handed. You have been looking for the perfect gift and you have screwed up at the last minute. On top, you haven't found a replacement for the bottle. 
"I wanted to give you something too for Christmas...“ you started. Closing the envelope and putting it in your pocket. "but... it broke while I was protecting a kid from a Wanderer.“ You look down at your feet, feeling small and pathetic, your shoulders slumping under the weight of disappointment.
There’s a beat of silence, and then Sylus gently lifts your chin with a finger, guiding your gaze back to him. He smiles, that soft, understanding smile that always makes you feel seen. Without a word, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a warm embrace. The chill of winter seems to disappear in his hold, replaced by the comforting heat of his body.
“The best gift is having you by my side, kitten.” he whispers into your ear, his voice low and sincere.
You feel your heart beating faster.
"Actions speak louder than words"
You agree with Sylus that both would be more honest with each other. Maybe now is the time to show him just how important he is to you. You spent so much time looking for something to buy that you forgot that the simplest gifts are often the most meaningful, especially when they come straight from the heart.
"Sylus… I actually have something else."
"Oh, is that so?“ 
„Can... I borrow your face?" He loosens his grip slightly and steps back, taking your hands in his, warming them up. He looks at you, amused and curious, and leans down.
"Close your eyes..." you whisper. He doesn’t say anything but does as you ask, his smile softening as he relaxes his face. You take a deep breath, feeling your heart race, each beat echoing louder in your chest.
The world falls silent for a moment—it's just the two of you, suspended in time. The anticipation tingles through you as you lean closer, closing the distance between you.
You press your lips gently against his cheek, and the warmth of his skin against your lips is electric. It’s a simple kiss, but it carries all the unspoken words you couldn’t say out loud. A silent confession. You linger there for just a heartbeat longer, feeling him inhale sharply, as if caught off guard by the intimacy of it. As you pull back, the first snowflakes begin to fall, drifting slowly from the sky. The soft touch of snow melts against your skin, but Sylus holds you close, not letting the moment slip away.
„Now... that’s a present only you could have given me." He gives you the most tender smile. "Thank you."
He looks like he wants to say something else but remains silent. Instead, he pulls you into a deeper embrace, burying his face in your hair as the snow continues to fall softly around you. You’re more than fine with that. No, you’re happy—grateful for this sweet moment.
You realize you’re a step closer to falling for him completely, accepting that the connection between you two is stronger than you ever imagined.
“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”
He smiles, his eyes crinkling with genuine joy.
“Merry Christmas, kitten.”
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Second part🌲: A Hunter's Christmas Hustle: X-mas morning
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icewindandboringhorror · 9 months ago
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Misc. photos from the past year or so ~
#image commentary in tags once again since they don't allow captions anymore and I feel weird using the alt text for that --#1. napping bapy boye sneeping on his own foot as if it were a pillow#2. The little primrose that I have seems to bloom sporadically all year around as long as I bring it inside and don't let it freeze#in the winter. This was a flower that came up randomly like mid november lol#3. Rainbow where you can see a little bit of a second rainbow near the bottom of it :0#4. CHILDREN.... love to see them.....#5. Halloween Candy ranking tierlist. not important enough to post on it's own. so throwing it in with one of these I guess lol#I am also not really a candy person at all and prefer bready stuff like cakes rather than chocolate bars (if I even have to have sweets#at ALL which usually I prefer savory food). I suspect the apple is controversial but.. I do love apples .... huzzah#actually am having applle and peanut butter snack right now as I'm writing this lol#6. Various bowls/cups/etc. that I got from a store at COMPLETELY different times like.. years apart from each other#yet at some point realized that they all mostly match in paint color and seem to be part of the same pattern#But I totally didnt make that connection until a few years ago when I was putting up dishes. I just bought them all invidually because it's#like 'oh cool! a cat' *1 year later* 'oh cool! a cat!' etc. lol.. I guess it must be a popular design if it's been around being sold that#long.#7. carne asada burrito and matcha bubble tea... oughhgh.... again one of my very rare meals where I actually go and get something..#probably my favorite meal currently. Something about the Chronic Anemia makes me crave beef burritos madly despite only having one#maybe twice a year or so ghjbhj.. plus the beans.... onions.... many of my Diet Forbidden foods... Also of course the little aishas#are there.... somehow they shall split the meal together even though it's like 10x bigger than their bodies.. they are also hungry#and vastly anemic... huzzah to them...#8. I've had this shirt for a long time but it fits very weird so I can never find a way to use it in outfits?? But I recently had#an appointment where a doctor needed to be able to look at my back and it's one of the only actual Shirts that I have (mostly i just own#long robes or tunics or jumper dress type of things that would be hard to lift up or etc. like... I dont even own a single normal 't-shirt'#or anyting aside from one giant tshirt that I sleep in in the summer lol.) So I wore this there.. I forget how much I love the pictures on#it.. how pleasant... little hummingbird... AND I think one of the flowers is supposed to be columbine ... !#photo diary
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jupitermoontarot24 · 3 months ago
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🍒What Lures People Into You? 🏎️
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HI guys!!! welcome back missed you!!!
FOR MORE EXCLUSIVE CONTENT CATCH ME ON PATREON WEEKLY WITH NEW UPLOADS!!!!
Piles 1-5
Pile 1 🍒
hiya.  I feel like you lure people very easily .Almost like making a dog come up to you, it's not hard especially if you have something that they want. so for you I don't even feel like you lure these people in by doing anything I think they just naturally are attracted to you. yeah almost like it's your Birthright to be alluring. so these specific people that I'm talking about could be your soulmates people you supposed to be connected to. like I said before celebrities their true supporters/fans  are their soulmates. I'm trying to figure out how to verbalize this but for you it's like you don't have to try because they're there. it's like you don't really have to try hard to get a dog because they practically are given if you know what I mean. So you could be born to be in some type of authority figure. so it's your Birthright to have people who want to follow you and want to protect what you have to say. so for you lovers and suitors are natural even if you dont feel like this it's true. you can have seventh house placements major. yeah but these people are meant to be in love with you they're meant to be alert to you. Honestly what lures people into you is you're a diplomatic nature. You come on very trustworthy you can have Libra placements because you give justice, you give peace you give authority. You allure people into you because they know that you're a good leader that you would be a good leader, that you would balance and protect your people.  right now you might be at a place where you're still growing into yourself and because of that it draws people to you even more because they want to be around you before you get too big because they want to be on this journey with you. so you might notice a lot of people riding for you having your back, especially new people because they want to make sure they're here when it pays off. and not even on some Clout chasing stuff. yeah people just see you as a really good figure. Yeah the picture and the Channelled song are both Libra women (kim k in pic) so honestly you're just likeable. You can also have a really nice body and your style is timeless and also nostalgic at the same time so that's what draws people in. like people want to be tied to you they want to be associated with you. People also feel like you would pour back into them, pour back into community and it would be very spiritual. people are drawn to you because they know you're a divine person. I just heard they know that you can control their mind but not even that. I think you just can bring peace to a lot of people's life especially to their upper chakras. 
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Pile 2 🥵
 what lures people to you is your face. you have a really beautiful face, nice lips, your face or structure is really nice. you can be conventionally attractive, even if your features are maybe not conventional you're still conventionally attractive. because I'm getting your features wouldn't look good on other people and it's not because they're not good features they just look really good on you. so your  features are unique to your face. you could be mixed or look mixed and that's what draws people in, people might not know your ethnicity. if you take pictures in black and white that could draw people in maybe a specific pic you have. Your hair lures people in. also your style people think you dress really nice. you could wear a lot of black for some people but either way they like your style. the way you dance, the way you sway  draws people in. What lures people in is that they don't know what's going on in your brain. people want to know they want to find out like what do you think about. because on the outside you could be so beautiful and your face could always look poised or you come off that way but they know that it's something deeper. like you might be sitting there looking very angelic but they know that you're thinking about something so it's like what is pile two really thinking about. but you play it so well you have a really good Poker Face. you have good posture and pose very well. I feel like your energy might be very big but your physical self is small as in your classy. like you don't scream for attention your body language doesn't scream for attention you don't spread yourself out to be bigger. that's a power move when people open their legs and they stretch their arms up is to attract attention and seem bigger, you don't have to do that. That can make people nervous is what I heard. People might have to leave the room when you are there because you get so much love and if they can't handle that they leave. But that's what also lures  people into you is that you could mix people up inside. like some people love that you make them insecure. if you know what I'm saying like you make them insecure but they still love you, they still want to be around you, they still like you because you're a good person and you're alluring. I guess for some people you Shine the Light on where they lack and maybe they  thought they weren't lacking anywhere so they want to continue to be around you so you can show them where they need to level up. which is not your job at all but that's what alures some people. you're very peaceful your energy is very calming. you're very nice to look at and a lot of people could think you're their soulmate because of that. People can see you as being the one for them. You got people that's okay with being the sidepiece as long as they get to be around you/ please you. Yeah you strike people when you meet them. you make people realize where they still have Karma to burn off. Also if people have been to your house or they see glimpses of your house in pictures or whatever they really like that Draws them in. 
Stefflon Don x Victony - Deadly (Official Music Video)
Jada Kingdom - TOP TIER #Twinkle #TopTier
Pile 3 👀
What lures people into you is that you have so many different sides to you. I feel like a lot of people have different sides of them but they don't express these because they're afraid of being judged or people being weirded out.  I think you're very open and expressive about that. so what lures people in is that there's a different version of you for every single person. it's like you got doubles of you that run different niches. like you have a stoner personality, a nerd, a hot head, a nurse, a race car driver. And a thing about it is it's very peaceful at the same time it's not overwhelming or crazy. if anything it gives Barbie. The number seven could be significant as well. you make a lot of money because of this?  a lot of money because you 'll have your hands in so many different pots you can do a lot of things and you don't mind trying either. so people think that these different versions of you make you a lot of money. so that's what lures people in. people definitely see you as the jackpot. Neptune in 2nd? if people know that you aren't the richest they probably still think you have a lot of money but if they know you aren't a millionaire billionaire they feel like you're rich in love/spirit so it doesn't matter. so it's like pile three could easily get somebody who would pay their bills or give them money because they have options. or people could feel like a lot of people give you money and because of that you really are super abundant. also if you post daily or you post weekly on social media that draws people in.Yeah you're really healing to people's inner child and that's what lures them in. it's like if they get a daily dose of you they'll be all right. You can also be a really good muse so people are lured  to you because they want to write about you, they want to write songs about you you're that person that gets a song writing about them. You inspire people to make music poetry love letters. 
CAN YOU FEEL IT - Carib feat. Kerwin Du Bois & Shenseea
Pile 4 🧚🏽
Whats alluring  about you is that you can be kind of scary sometimes, but it's so sexy!  it's like I don't know if I should be scared or turned on is what I heard. yeah you can be like the picture. one of those sexy villains that you low key root for because they're so fine like shego from kim possible. You could be drawn to another pile. yes like people are attracted to this dark side of you so that's alluring to them. What lures them in is some people will be okay with the third party because they don't even expect you to commit? It's lures ppl in when you are aggressive and you just say what you want. so you can't scare people off with your aggression  it's sexy to them. because you're in your power! people don't like weak people. yeah if anything it makes you seem like more of a good marriage partner. yeah you could come in guns blazing and people will still be so turned on. they know that you're about that life that's what the people want lol. that's not to say that you like to be in this energy but you can be. I'm laughing cuz why do you being aggressive makes people fall even harder. yeah the only thing I can really compare to the best is shego. it's like yeah you're supposed to be rooting for Kim Possible but who didnt have a crush on shego. so it's like even if you weren't fair with the situation people still are okay with that. It lures them that sometimes you can be Domineering. it makes people want to give you money so you could lure in cash cows or pay pigs.But whats alluring about you is that people like that sometimes you can be the bad guy even if you're really not. Maybe you just stand up for what you believe in you don't take no mess. You give ride or die energy. 
Shenseea - Die For You (Official Music Video)
Shenseea - Neva Neva (Official Music Video)
Pile 5 ⭐
What lures people into you is your instagram!/social media Okay periodddd lol you could look younger, you could be younger that's what lures people in.  Not in a weird way but you just might be in your early to mid twenties for some people.  you could look like that or what lures ppl in is they don't know your age. your Instagram could be very aesthetically pleasing, like it could give venusian energy. so people can fall in love with you just off your instagram. yes like your Instagram doesn't give too much but doesn't give too little. it gives just enough. but your Instagram does make you look very attractive. this doesn't have to be IG it's going to be any social media that you have by the way. There could be a lot of fantasizing around your social media, so people can look at your pictures and fantasize about being with you. especially you selfies are very cute. The music you post lures people in. you can look expensive, you can smell expensive people assume you do. yeah your Instagram is so fire!!! wherever you post pictures it just comes together so well. if you have a picture that's black and white specifically they could like that. people could actually post like you or want to get  their Instagram feed to look like yours. People think you have really good sex that's what lures them in. not they getting horny off your pics lol. even if you only post a couple pictures or selfies they are all hitters people love them. I don't want to say this but people could think that you lady/men part that is very tight/big, they can think that because you might be on the younger side or they just think you don't have a lot of bodies. and like when I say young I mean an adult still!!!! but basically you have little mileage is what lures people in. you have so many people that like you and they got money too. people sitting up there imagining you to be there spouse, what it would be like to live in a house with you, to have kids with you. this could be Tiktok, Twitter, Instagram but whatever people can get a glimpse of your face or your personality. it lures people in. your face is really pretty when you have your eyes closed people really are drawn in by that. this could give people the clue of what your sex face looks like or you're resting face. Yeah you might have your eyes closed in one picture and people are like that's what pile five probably looks like while they moan or are asleep. ;) Your social media could make ppl feel like their watching a goddess
Verse Simmonds ft Jada Kingdom ~ Bedroom Bully (Official Video)
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brunchable · 3 months ago
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This is your boyfriend, Mom? PT. 2
《 Lucas takes Bucky to bring-your-dad-to-school. 》
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Pairings: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Single Mom reader. Themes: Comedy. Fluff with Lucas <3 Also Bucky getting cockblocked at the end. Summary: Lucas has an upcoming bring your dad to school day, and he chose to being Bucky with him. A/N: Bucky x Lucas is starting to grow on me help🥲 Parts : 1 and 1.5
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Lucas had been suspiciously quiet during dinner. Normally, you’d be hearing about how his day went, including stories about how he managed to outwit his teacher with some clever quip. But tonight, he was pushing his food around his plate like it had personally offended him.
You and Bucky exchange a glance. Something’s up.
“What’s wrong, Lucky?” you ask gently, leaning forward. “You’ve barely touched your mashed potatoes, and you love those.”
Lucas sighs dramatically, not even looking up. “It’s bring-your-dad-to-school day tomorrow.”
Bucky pauses mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air. “And?”
“And… nothing,” Lucas mutters, eyes fixed on his plate.
You tilt your head, trying to decipher the sudden gloom. “Well, that sounds fun. Maybe you should bring your dad. I’m sure he’d—”
Lucas immediately cuts you off with a loud groan, throwing his head back in frustration. “Ughhh, Mom! No! Dad's so boring. He works in finance. All he does is talk about spreadsheets and stocks. None of the kids will care!”
You can’t help but laugh softly. “He’s not that bad, Lucas. He could probably teach your classmates a lot about—”
“Boring stuff,” Lucas finishes for you, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout. “Last time he tried to explain stocks to me, I fell asleep with my eyes open.”
Bucky nearly chokes on his water, trying to stifle a laugh. “You fell asleep with your eyes open?”
Lucas nods seriously, “Mid-sentence, too. I think I went into some kind of boredom coma.”
You smirk, brushing a hand through Lucas’s hair. “Come on, he’s your dad. He’d probably love to come.”
Lucas gives you an exasperated look, then glances over at Bucky, who’s watching the exchange with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
“Well,” Lucas says, avoiding eye contact, “I was kinda thinking… maybe Bucky could come instead.”
Bucky looks surprised, his eyebrows shooting up. “Me?”
Lucas shrugs, his eyes fixed on the table. “Yeah, I mean, you’ve got a metal arm and you work with the Avengers. You’re way cooler than someone who talks about dividends all day.”
You stifle a chuckle, giving Lucas a gentle nudge. “You’re sure? I mean, it’s bring-your-dad-to-school day, not bring-your-mom’s-boyfriend-to-school day.”
Lucas huffs and folds his arms over his chest. “Well, it should be. Besides, Bucky’s basically, like, half-superhero, half-robot, and a little bit grumpy old man.”
Bucky raises an eyebrow. “A little grumpy?”
“Only sometimes,” Lucas adds quickly. “But the metal arm makes up for it.”
You shoot Bucky a look, stifling a laugh, while Bucky grins down at Lucas. “So, you want me to come, huh? Even though I’m just ‘kinda’ cool?”
Lucas rolls his eyes but can’t hide the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, well, you’re cooler than spreadsheets.”
Bucky snorts and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “High praise.”
× × × × 
The Next Day: Bring Your Dad to School Day
Lucas had been jittery all morning, and you weren’t sure whether it was nerves or excitement. He kept fixing his hair and adjusting his backpack, sneaking glances at Bucky as if checking to see if he’d changed his mind about coming.
When you finally arrive at the school, Lucas shifts uncomfortably, standing close to you and Bucky with a mixture of anxiety and hope in his eyes. “You’ll come inside, right?”
Bucky crouches slightly to meet Lucas at eye level, offering him a reassuring smile. “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it, buddy. Besides, I’ve gotta make sure I look cool enough for your friends, right?”
Lucas lets out a breath and nods, though he tries to play it off cool. “Just… don’t embarrass me, okay?”
Bucky raises his hands in surrender. “No embarrassment. Got it.”
As you enter the classroom, the air is buzzing with excitement. Kids are introducing their dads, proudly sharing what they do for work—doctors, engineers, even a dad who runs a bakery, much to everyone’s delight.
When it’s Lucas’s turn, the room grows quiet, and he shuffles nervously to the front of the class. He glances back at Bucky, his hands fidgeting at his sides, and when he starts speaking, his voice is barely above a whisper.
“Um… this is Bucky. He’s not my dad, but he’s my mom’s boyfriend.” He pauses, his eyes scanning the room nervously before flicking back to Bucky, who gives him an encouraging nod.
At first, Lucas stammers, his voice soft and unsure. “He… um… he’s an Avenger.”
The entire class gasps, but Lucas doesn't look up. He shuffles a bit, glancing at the floor. “And, uh… he’s kinda cool.”
Bucky smiles warmly, but Lucas’s words grow more confident as he goes on, his voice gaining strength as he talks about Bucky.
“He helps me with my homework, even though he pretends like he doesn’t understand math… but he does. And… uh, he taught me how to ride a bike.”
Bucky’s eyebrows lift in surprise, and you feel a lump forming in your throat as Lucas continues, his confidence building with every word.
“And… one time, when I was scared to sleep because of a thunderstorm, he sat with me until I fell asleep. He didn’t even get mad when I drooled on him.” A few kids giggle, and Lucas grins, glancing at Bucky. “He says his metal arm doesn’t feel anything, but I think he just says that so I don’t worry when I hold onto it too tight.”
Bucky’s expression softens, and your eyes start to well up with tears, your heart swelling as you hear the affection in Lucas’s voice.
“He helps me with stuff that’s hard for me, like when I don’t get something right away, and he never makes me feel bad about it. And… he told me that even superheroes need help sometimes, so it’s okay if I ask for help too.”
The classroom is silent, except for the occasional sniffle from you, tears pooling in your eyes as Lucas keeps talking, his confidence shining through.
“So yeah,” Lucas finishes, smiling now, “Bucky’s not my real dad, but he’s kinda like a superhero at home too. He doesn’t fly or have a shield, but… he’s the best.”
Bucky looks completely stunned, blinking back emotion as he stares at Lucas. The classroom erupts in applause, the kids clearly in awe of everything they just heard. You wipe a tear from your cheek, trying not to let anyone see how much Lucas’s words touched you.
As Lucas walks back to his seat, Bucky watches him with a mix of pride and disbelief. When Lucas sits down, the teacher looks at Bucky expectantly.
“Well, Mr. Barnes, it seems Lucas has given you quite the introduction,” she says warmly. “Would you like to say a few words about Lucas?”
Bucky clears his throat, standing a little taller as he glances over at Lucas, who’s avoiding eye contact, clearly a bit shy after all that. “Uh, sure,” Bucky says, his voice soft but steady.
He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then smiles gently as he looks at Lucas.
“Lucas… he’s, uh, he’s kind of a big deal, y’know?” Bucky starts, his voice tender. “He’s got this heart that’s… I don’t even know how to describe it. Bigger than anything I’ve ever seen. And he cares about people in ways that… well, I guess you don’t really expect from a kid his age.”
Bucky shifts, his eyes softening as he continues. “He’s tough. And not just the way he talks tough—which he definitely does, let me tell you. But he’s got this kind of strength that’s rare. The kind that makes him want to help other people, even when he’s having a rough day.”
He pauses, glancing at Lucas, who is trying to hide a small smile, his cheeks pink.
“I never expected to be the guy teaching a kid how to ride a bike or helping with homework. But with Lucas… I dunno, it’s different. It’s like he teaches me more than I could ever teach him. He’s patient with me when I mess up—‘cause, believe me, I mess up a lot.”
The class is quiet, listening intently as Bucky’s voice softens even more. “He makes me want to be better. And he never has to say that; it’s just the way he is. I didn’t think I’d be good at this kind of thing, being there for someone like him. But Lucas? He makes it easy. And… well, I’m just lucky I get to be part of his life.”
Bucky glances back at you for a moment, a flicker of emotion in his eyes before he looks at Lucas, smiling warmly. “I’m proud of him. More than I can put into words.”
The room is silent for a moment, the emotion in Bucky’s words hanging in the air, and you have to quickly wipe away a tear before anyone notices.
The teacher smiles, clearly touched. “That was beautiful, Mr. Barnes. Thank you for sharing.” She looks at the class. “Does anyone have any questions for Bucky?”
Dozens of hands shoot up, and Bucky laughs softly, still a little overwhelmed by the moment.
“Alright,” Bucky says, grinning. “Who’s first?”
A kid at the front waves his hand excitedly. “Is your metal arm, like, super strong? Can you crush stuff with it?”
Bucky chuckles and flexes his metal arm playfully. “It’s pretty strong. I’ve crushed a few things with it, but I try not to do that too often.”
Another kid raises their hand. “Do you know Captain America?”
Bucky grins. “Yeah, I know him. He’s my best friend.”
Lucas perks up at that, unable to resist adding, “He beat Captain America once. But that’s only because Steve tripped over his own shield.”
The class erupts into giggles, and Bucky shoots Lucas a mock glare. “Hey, I told you to keep that between us.”
The questions continue, with kids asking everything from how Bucky became an Avenger to whether he can fly. Every time Bucky answers, Lucas watches him with this quiet admiration, a look you hadn’t seen before.
Eventually, the teacher wraps up the session, thanking Bucky for his time. As you head out of the classroom, Lucas lingers by Bucky’s side, still a little shy but clearly proud of the whole experience.
“You didn’t embarrass me,” Lucas says softly, glancing up at Bucky as you walk outside.
Bucky smiles, ruffling Lucas’s hair gently. “And you made me look pretty good in front of your friends, kid. Thanks.”
Lucas shrugs, but you can see the small grin on his face. “Yeah, well… it wasn’t that hard.”
× × × ×
The house was quiet, the kind of calm that comes after a long, eventful day. You’d just finished tucking Lucas into bed, though his excitement from earlier had kept him talking longer than usual. His eyes had sparkled as he recounted every detail of the day, especially how cool his friends thought Bucky was.
Now, you found yourself standing at the doorway of Lucas’s room, watching him sleep peacefully, his small face nestled into his pillow, breathing steady.
Bucky’s footsteps were soft as he approached from behind, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his chin gently on your shoulder. 
“He’s out like a light,” Bucky murmured, his voice low.
You nod, leaning back into him with a content sigh. “He had a big day.”
Bucky’s hold on you tightened slightly, and after a beat of silence, he asked, “Was it… okay? I mean, I didn’t mess anything up, did I?”
You turn in his arms, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Mess it up? Bucky, you were amazing. You saw how happy he was.” You pause, your voice growing more tender. “And how proud he was to bring you.”
Bucky’s eyes flickered, his usually stoic expression faltering for a moment as he glanced back at Lucas’s sleeping form. “I wasn’t sure… you know, about this whole ‘being a dad figure’ thing. I didn’t want to… I don’t know, overstep.”
You reached up, cupping his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing lightly against the roughness of his stubble. “You didn’t overstep, Bucky. You’ve been exactly what he needs.”
Bucky looked down at you, his blue eyes reflecting a vulnerability he rarely let surface. “I didn’t think I’d be good at this,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t think I could be.”
You shook your head gently. “You are, though. Lucas looks up to you. He trusts you.” You could feel your throat tighten, remembering the words Lucas had spoken earlier in the classroom, how he’d talked about Bucky with such affection and pride. “He loves you, Bucky.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched slightly, and for a moment, he looked away, as if the weight of your words was too much to take in. But then, after a long breath, he whispered, “Yeah. I think I love him too.”
There was a softness in his voice, a kind of admission that felt raw and real. You blinked away the tears that welled up again, pulling him into a tight embrace. 
“He’s lucky to have you,” you murmured into his chest.
Bucky wrapped both arms around you, holding you close as if grounding himself in the warmth of the moment. 
“I’m the lucky one,” he whispered into your hair.
After a few quiet moments, you pull away slightly, looking up at him with a teasing smile. “You know, you didn’t embarrass him today, but you both did make me cry in the back of the classroom.”
Bucky chuckled softly, his hand gently brushing a stray hair from your face. 
“Yeah, I noticed that.” His smile turned warm, and he kissed your forehead softly. “Didn’t mean to make you cry, but I guess we’re all getting soft, huh?”
You laugh quietly, wiping the last of your tears. “Maybe just a little.”
Just then, there’s a small rustle from the bed, and Lucas’s sleepy voice drifts over to you both. 
“Mom… Bucky?”
You both turn, finding Lucas sitting up slightly, rubbing his eyes with one small fist. 
“Why are you guys whispering?” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.
Bucky grins, stepping over to the bed and sitting on the edge. “Just talking about how cool your day was, buddy.”
Lucas yawns, his eyes half-closed as he leans back into his pillow. 
“You were cool today too,” he mutters sleepily, his words slurring a little. “Even if your hair still looks like it’s trying to run away.”
Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. “Thanks, kid.”
Lucas is quiet for a second before he adds, even softer now, “I’m glad you’re here, Bucky.”
Bucky’s expression softens. He reaches out, ruffling Lucas’s hair gently. “Me too, kid. Get some sleep.”
Lucas smiles faintly, his eyes already closing again as he settles back into sleep.
Bucky stands up, and the two of you tiptoe out of the room, closing the door gently behind you. Once in the hallway, Bucky exhales softly, as if letting go of something he hadn’t even realised he was holding on to.
You slip your hand into his, giving it a squeeze. “You’re doing great,” you whisper.
Bucky looks down at your intertwined hands and nods, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. 
“Yeah,” he whispers back, pulling you closer. “I think we all are.”
× × × × 
Lucas was sound asleep in his room, and you and Bucky finally had the house to yourselves. The TV flickered softly in the background, but you couldn’t care less about what was on. Bucky had already pulled you into his lap, his hands roaming under your shirt, his lips pressing hot kisses against your neck.
You let out a breathy laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “I’ve missed this.”
Bucky smirked, his voice low and dripping with desire.
“You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about this,” he growled, his hands gripping your waist. “I’m gonna take you upstairs, throw you on that bed, spread you out so wide—"
“Why would you do that to her?”
Both of you froze, and your heads whipped around in sync to see Lucas standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes and holding his stuffed dinosaur.
Bucky blinked, his entire body going rigid as his face flushed a deep shade of red. "L-Lucas?" he choked out.
You quickly scrambled off Bucky’s lap, yanking your shirt back down while trying to hide your laughter.
“Lucky, what are you doing up? I thought you were asleep.”
Bucky's entire face flushed beet red, and he looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. "I didn't mean-what I said was-uh..." His brain was clearly not firing on all cylinders. 
You bit your lip, trying not to burst into laughter as Bucky squirmed, knowing full well he had no idea how to recover. 
"Why would you throw her? Then spread her out." Lucas asked again, his little face scrunched up in confusion. "She's not a ball or a sandwich.”
You stifled a giggle, watching Bucky flounder. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to string together some explanation. 
"It's, uh... it's just an expression, buddy. You know, like when people say 'hit the hay' but they're not actually hitting anything?" 
Lucas blinked, unconvinced. "But you said you were gonna throw her and make her spread open. What does that mean?" 
Bucky's eyes widened in horror, and you couldn't hold it back anymore-you let out a loud snort, which quickly turned into full-blown laughter. Bucky glared at you like this is your fault, but you were too busy wiping tears from your eyes to care.
Bucky’s face was buried in his hands now. He muttered something unintelligible into his palms, and you could tell he was dying inside.
“It’s… just an expression,” he groaned, finally looking up, but clearly at a loss.
Lucas blinked, still not understanding. “I don’t get it. Do adults spread each other out when they’re tired?”
You were doubled over in laughter now, barely able to catch your breath. “Oh my God, this is the best thing that’s ever happened.”
Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he was considering moving to another planet. He let out the world’s longest sigh before saying, “No, Lucas, adults don’t… spread each other out when they’re tired.”
Lucas squinted, still confused. “Then why would you say that?”
"I'LL EXPLAIN TOMORROW," Bucky blurted out, clearly desperate to end the conversation.
“Okay. But it sounds weird. Like, why wouldn’t you just say you’re gonna tuck her in? That’s nicer than throwing her and spreading her out.” Lucas nodded, though it was clear he still didn’t get it.
Bucky muttered something under his breath, staring at the ceiling like he was silently asking the universe for strength. 
“You’re right, Lucas. Tucking her in is a much better way to say it.”
Lucas gave him a satisfied nod, as if he’d just solved the world’s biggest mystery. “Yeah. So next time, just say you’re gonna tuck her in.”
Bucky shot you a look that was half I hate you and half I’m going to die. “Sure thing, champ. Next time, I’ll… tuck her in.”
“Good,” Lucas said, completely oblivious to the awkwardness. “Can I sleep in your room tonight? I don’t wanna go back to mine.”
Bucky’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want, buddy.”
Lucas turned to head back toward the hallway but stopped just before he left. “And Bucky?”
Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, dreading whatever was coming next. “Yeah, Lucas?”
“Next time you should say ‘I’m gonna tuck you in real tight.’ That sounds better than spreading her out.”
Bucky didn't even try to respond, but then, after a brief pause, a mischievous grin spread across his face. 
“Alright, Mr. Tuck Expert,” he said, standing up quickly. “You’re gonna get tucked in first!”
Before Lucas could react, Bucky scooped him up like a sack of potatoes, tossing him over his shoulder. Lucas squealed in surprise, kicking his legs in the air as Bucky made his way to the stairs.
“Bucky! What are you doing?!”
Bucky laughed, giving Lucas a playful bounce. “I’m tucking you in, but I’m gonna do it real tight just like you said!”
Lucas giggled uncontrollably as Bucky carried him toward the stairs. “Not like that! That’s too tight!”
Bucky threw you a playful grin over his shoulder. “See you upstairs, doll,” he said smoothly. “Looks like we’re gonna have company in the middle tonight.”
Lucas kept giggling the whole way as Bucky disappeared up the stairs, bouncing him lightly like a sack of potatoes. You shook your head, still laughing, knowing full well that once Lucas was settled in the middle of your bed, Bucky would come back down for some unfinished business.
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mysteryshoptls · 3 months ago
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SSR Jack Howl - Room Relaxation Voice Lines
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Back home, I'd have my family to celebrate with, but here... I wonder what kind of birthday tomorrow will bring.
Summon: Doesn't matter to me if it's my birthday or not. I'll just do what I gotta do.
Groovification: Today's a special day. I'll make sure to put special care into styling my hair today so it doesn't end up lookin' lame!
Home: I gotta put my homework away.
Swap Looks: What type of protein should I go with...?
Home Transition 1: I'd always just be wearing a shirt and cardigan back home, too. It's much easier to regulate my temperature if I'm wearing a jacket or something.
Home Transition 2: The nightcap that Rook-senpai gave me is nice that it even covers my ears, but... It kinda weirds me out that it fits me perfectly.
Home Transition 3: My room itself is pretty small, but I'd say the reason why I can't do my stretches here is because of all of my roommates' stuff scattered everywhere.
Home Transition - Login: I'll make sure to do my daily studying and training routines as usual. Birthdays aren't an excuse to slack.
Home Transition - Groovy: I really like Riddle-senpai's way of giving encouragement... It kind of pumps me up even more. Makes me happier hearin' that than just being told to rest 'cause it's my birthday.
Home Tap 1: My roommates keep throwing their dirty clothes all over my personal space. Maybe I should just finally throw them all away.
Home Tap 2: The body composition monitor that that Ortho gave me is pretty useful. Just knowing how much muscle I have really helps me determine what training I should do.
Home Tap 3: I've tried styling gel before, but my hair got way too stiff... I've only used wax since then.
Home Tap 4: I can't tell if Lilia-senpai is trying to celebrate or surprise me... I couldn't help but square up when he let off a party popper from his perch in a tree.
Home Tap 5: What's the knitted pattern on my cardigan called? Actually, I don't really know. It's something I see in my hometown a lot, so I've never really thought about it.
Home Tap - Groovy: Didja forget I've got a real good nose for things? I can tell just by smell there's food and cake prepared. So sorry that it couldn't be a surprise.
Duo: [JACK]: Riddle-senpai, I'll make this my most productive year yet! [RIDDLE]: That's a good mindset, Jack.
Birthday Login Message: Oh, hey, it's you. What am I carrying? Just some sports drinks that Deuce gave me for my birthday. He gave me a whole case full so I'm just carrying it to my room. Man, he just had to give me something so big... Heh, now where am I gonna find the place to put this? By the way, what do you have there? ...Huh? A present for me? And it's more sports drinks!? ...N-Nah, I'm not saying I don't need them. I drink 'em every day, so it's good to have a ton. Right then, I'll take them off your hands. What, you don't think I can carry two cases by myself? It's no big deal. So, yeah, uh... Thanks.
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Requested by @farfalla049.
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bekolxeram · 7 months ago
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I'm late to the party I know, but I need to learn how to make gifs first. I actually find the Bucktommy dinner scene a bit awkward, but not because they "lack chemistry" or the "flirting is problematic". It's not supposed to be just a cute bonus scene, it's engineered to stuff as much information as possible into mere 55 seconds. Here is my read on it:
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The good old always at the hospital joke, probably just Tommy trying to lighten the mood after such a hectic day for the 118, but mainly a set up for the next part.
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Buck does not see the humor in it, he seems upset.
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Tommy has apparently gotten to know Buck enough at the stage to immediately clock it, and under all the dark humor and sarcasm, he does actually care about Buck's feelings.
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The scene of Buck and Eddie in the hospital room with Bobby ends up on the cutting room floor, we've only got that one shot of teary eyed Buck when he breaks the news to Eddie at his house, so this is the first time in the episode Buck gets to express his fear of losing Bobby, his father figure.
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And here we are, controversial moment number 1. There isn't much context attached to this line, so viewers interpret it differently. I'm in the minority camp that thinks Tommy is being serious here, Lou's delivery makes it seem like Tommy says this out of concern. I believe it's a call back to this line from the medal ceremony:
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Here Buck is talking about Phillip the same way Tommy and Chimney (possibly Hen too) talk about Gerrard: like he's dead. Tommy is probably wondering if Phillip is another Gerrard situation, and he invites Buck to talk about it if he wishes to.
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Buck gives a humorous but one word answer, so Tommy gets that he doesn't want to get too deep into it.
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From this line on, it's a set up for the Gerrard reign of terror in S8. Tommy reiterates the jealousy he mentioned in 7x04, that he wants to become a part of the 118 family, which he only had a little taste of before he left to become a pilot.
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Tommy backstory crumb. Buck and Phillip at least see each other at family functions, Tommy doesn't have a relationship with his dad at all. Judging by the medal ceremony, he doesn't seem to have any family left.
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It confirms Gerrard as the anti-Christ anti-Bobby. Buck becomes the person he is because of Bobby, while Tommy behaved the way he did in the 3 begin episodes because of Gerrard. It acknowledges Tommy's toxic ways back in the days, but as we can see by the time Bobby became captain of the 118, Tommy was already on friendly terms with Chimney and Hen, we might have a chance to see the transformation in between next season. I've heard that season 7 is supposed to be a soft relaunch of the entire series, so maybe Gerrard is a good plot device to make new viewers understand the positive influence Bobby has on the firefam.
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Classic deadpan humor from Tommy, Buck gets the message that he wants to keep the conversation lighthearted.
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Now Buck has the power to decide which direction he's leading the conversation into, and he gives us controversial moment number 2, he brings up daddy issues and makes it horny. Look at his smirky face, he's definitely not trying to have a serious chat about father complex. He's the one who starts flirting, not Tommy, and it shows us unlike the nervous fumbling at the beginning of their relationship, Buck is now comfortable enough to initiate flirting.
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Tommy can't say no to that face, so he flirts back, but it can also be interpreted as him being in denial of his obvious daddy issues. More conflict and angst for S8?
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More flirting. Boy's got rizz towards all genders. He basically admits he might have "daddy issues" in a sexual connotation.
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Now comes THE controversial moment of the scene, if not the episode. I've seen people online bashing Tommy for "making it sexual" (Buck did), "interrupting a meaningful conversation to satisfy his daddy kink" (no one is actually talking about any kink), or even "exploiting Buck's trauma to put him in an inferior role in a dom/sub relationship" (What? That's not what d/s is about).
I raise you the point that the word "daddy" is no longer some kind of kink exclusive lingo. This word has entered the popular zeitgeist the last couple years, and now it basically just means a sexy older man. I bet the daddy kink thing doesn't even cross the mind of most of the GA, they just take it as Tommy hoping Buck find this older man sexy. I think we might have collectively read too many smutty fanfics, that's why we all immediately jumped to the very extreme of the kinkiness spectrum when it comes to this scene.
Conclusion, the dialog in this scene may not sound natural, but that's not the point. This scene is in fact, an infodump. Kudos to the actors for making it cute.
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zzencat · 7 months ago
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Their Sexual Tendencies + Traits? (NSFW) - Timeless ⏳
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Simply choose from left to right.
(Minors DNI) Nice and simple. What would happen if you got involved? Their tendencies in bed? Intimate behavior? Maybe it’s the one you’ve been ignoring. How about the one you’re with? A future partner? What goes on in their head at night when you’re all they can think about? And if more unfolds? Very TMI. Includes sexual, graphic descriptions and toxic traits.
Must do before you choose: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. You may now begin.
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Pile 1. “I was a bad girl. I did some bad things.” - Jojo Siwa (lmfaooo)
•right of the bat, “karma” from Jojo siwa played
•I get brat vibes from this pile…are you a brat? lmfao cuz your person’s gonna like that for sure
•or maybe you try to hard to be a brat or appear/act like one? Your person loves it regardless
•this person loves dominating, but they can get just as enthusiastic as a sub. The instant switch and role change is actually pretty impressive, since they do it effortlessly
• I get the vibe they do or will do most of the topping work tho. They can have their lazy days, sure, but they like moving
•dare I say this person is the kinkiest out of the three piles
•^^ we’re talking bondage, role play, slapping(? Damn), everything and all over the above—receiving or giving, they can do it all. Fast raw sex and quickies are hot to them esp
• if you’re poly, this person is okay with that. If you’re not, they’re also okay. they just wanna have sex, end of story 🧌
• is down to literally do it anywhere and everywhere
• if this relationship started off as some kind of fwb or anything with benefits, I wouldn’t be surprised
• if you guys are both in a committed relationship, make sure you try to match their energy in bringing new things to the bedroom
• these people are shower masturbators—the sex drive is actually crazy like- slow your horse for just a second damn
•^^ they don’t even have time to masturbate if you’re with each other all the time. I got the image of a couple going on a trip and they’re in a hotel…yk what comes next. If you live together, cue some jungkook music. There’s no makin it out
• if you’re not together due to long distance stuff, a lot of cam/phone sex. It happens so much that you think they’re jobless (and they could be tbh. Tell em to get a job!!!)
• this person gives me the vibe that they’re not really in an occupation that demands much. It feels like a very lax, low demand and energy job OR they’re a model for something and they make money through content like that
• this person is reallllly good looking tho. It’s how they can get away with a lot of things
• their maturity level is kinda questionable I wont lie…I think you need to teach them some boundaries
• they could take a while to see their faults? Maybe they don’t wanna see or they’re too oooh la la in the sky
• can come off as quite careless. Can even be clingy
• also very prone to peer pressure or self-sabotaging behavior
•avoids conflict like the plague
• open to all body types as long as your face is cute. I think they likely prefer people who don’t look like they’re freaks in the sheets ykwim? The duality is prob what gets em going. But then again, I think anything gets them going. This person is a true horndog of nature
• (I, personally, as Teddy, the reader, feel like I should include why they’re like this—craving physical intimacy so much, but there’s this brushing off/dismissive energy like “forget it they don’t need to know- let’s just have fun and shiii”)
•^^ (if I rephrase what I wanted to include, it might be better. They prob grew up with a lot of siblings/other kids, and not enough love to go around, so they were overlooked, OR no-to-low amount of siblings but not enough physical and emotional intimacy and connection from parents/guardians, so they looked towards external sources.)
• doesn’t have too many expectations tbh (idk if that’s a bad or a good thing, but the root of it is that they don’t wanna pressure people to stay with them or force people into commitment)
• ^^if they fall in love with you and yall date, and you leave one day, it’ll hurt so much that they’ll revert back to the thinking of why commitment didn’t always work for them
•childhood couldn’t show them what true commitment was so if you actually express that you want to be with them exclusively, they’ll be so shocked, to say the least. Like “me? Why me? I’m not anything special, lmfao” . They’re laughing it off and will feel nervous so they’ll cover it up by drinking smth (water or anything), but they’re so used to the sentiment of being “nothing special” that they’re numb to it
• ^^ but if they end up falling in love with you (beware of their nonstop horse sex drive), they’ll be a lot more reserved and laid back than before
• they’ll prob be lazier tho ngl. They’ll take days off work just to have sex with you all day
• they make up for this uselessness feeling through sexual activities
• they think like “why touch yourself alone when I’m right here?”
• when they do masturbate tho, they think about you and your body shifting back and forth against the bed. They’re pretty quick tho when it comes to masturbation—I’m guessing bc of impatience and not being able to hold back. They only last long when it comes to sex with a partner
• the body worship is real nice
• most of the sexual activities have one thing in common though, and that’s the closeness of both of your skins. This person kisses your skin so much during sex, and really anytime, feel you up whenever they can. The touchiness is all the time and it’s sweet, but it can always lead to something else
• in this pile, lies a very rare breed. a handful, and really not a lot, will encounter the rare breed partner that also has this high of a sex drive, is confident, has a regular day job, prob tall and slim, is responsible and committed only to you, and will be on board 100% if you ever want to engage in exhibitionist/voyeur activities—extreme (like streaming your intimate moments or camming together)
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Pile 2. *Growling noises.*
• the thing is…you’re just existing 😭
• you don’t do much to piss this person off (most of the time). Some light jokes and messing around here and there but you’re pretty much chillin. (ESPECIALLY when you’re not dating, this bullet point and the previous be the vibe.)
• this person wants you like a predator wants prey, basically. It feels weird to say it ngl, but it’s a very obviously fire energy? Like Leo smth…or a very capable and sadistic Scorpio? They have this dark and mysterious look. Very intimidating, but you prob don’t give this person your time of day—either you don’t care, think it’s weird, or maybe you’re just playing a little hard to get
•^^whatever this person thinks you’re doing, purposely or not, they find it intriguing and you have to be theirs
• this person tho? pile 1 has nothing on this person. My bad, not person—beast.
• very dominant person and very much shows it if you’re exclusively dating each other or in a higher relationship
• they could use some work on their control issues tho. IMPORTANT!!!: this person would NEVER put their hands on you to hurt you out of anger or violent means. No abuse in their household, no, no. (In bed, it’s different but only if you consent)
•^^ regarding the control issues, make sure they’re not obsessed with you bc you’re hard to control. At your highest energy, this pile has a very independent, do-what-I-want energy. You don’t give two shits abt what others think- you dress, look, and act the way you want. You stand up to them when no one has the balls to do it
• very much BDSM. It could get a little tiring—not the person!! The person has hella games and tricks up their sleeve when it comes to bdsm and freaky shit. Tiring in the sense that it just stays in the BDSM realm like dude…break out of it cmon. It’s time to experiment with different menus, not recipes.
• commander type. also choking. this person likes choking. Choking you AND being choked, but they wouldn’t bring up the latter if you never mention it.
• has a LOT of self control…until they don’t. But I think this person loses it very easily bc of their partner—like you needa be punished asap type feel.
• getting off is normal for them, but when they have a partner, most of the time they save it until sex. but if not and you’re not around, they’re gonna go at it, thinking how you should be there, imagining how good you look with your mouth on their parts while you look up at them, praising you about how good you’re doing.
• this person isn’t really simple with masturbation either. If they simply lay down and or sit on their bed and touch themselves, it wouldn’t be as satisfying so they have to go again, preferably touching themselves in a different place—depends on what mood they’re in, they’ll choose a risky, likely-to-get-caught kinda place or a place outside their room, but private.
• wow, verrrry possessive person. Marking you up 😫 In the morning, if you need to go somewhere, they’ll be like “Don’t try to cover it up.”
• This person could be some sort of player? Regardless of who they are, they just have a lot of pent up energy they need to get out of. They def have experience
•honestly, pile 2, this person can get really damn intense. If you can’t handle their heat, it’s okay to get outta the kitchen cuz they’re the ones turning it up and have also broken the ac 😭 the sex is crazy good, but it will take this person a bit of time to actually fall in love with you. Cuz you’re so different from everyone they’ve seen so they’re unsure…weirded out…interested.
• if you somehow get in bed with this person, you’re in for a ride (literally.) after this experience, this person will deadass replay it everywhere, every day, all the time. It becomes an obsession with them (which may or may not be a good thing for you.)
• this person is going to be in your life for a whiiiiile. You might even roll your eyes and be like “whyyy”
• this is the most obvious enemies to lovers trope pile, but it starts smth like that OR you just get annoyed that everyone wants this person and to you, they’re just hot and nothing much.
• it gets wilder— this person WILL try to make you jealous. Shamelessly. (Ick)
• they’d like to receive some mouth-work from you if ya get my vibe. (Which is unfair bc they’re kinda selfish when it comes to receiving pleasure.) if they give it, they give it THEIR way
• ^ you have to put them in their place and show them you’re not someone to be fucked with. The worst thing you could do is leave their life entirely. Even pissing you off gives them something.
• if you’re sick of their shit, they might even let you have a chance of taking it out on them and having your way for once (BUT just so you know, if you do, they’ll take it as you surrendering to them. Like you finally have a weakness or manipulation point.)
• HOWEVER, this person, although very fucking stubborn, is willing to make any and all changes for you. IT WILL TAKE TIME. And only if you’re in love with each other. Maybe they were trying to find someone that was worth their time and more than just looks.
• I will say tho, if you get into an actual committed relationship with this person, the upbringing of this relationship looks pretty toxic. Like the crazy need for control and the unwarranted possessiveness (on their side), especially at points when you’re not dating each other. If you don’t set their shit straight, you’ll fall into the trap and could get a broken heart out of it
• ^^ on the bright side, this encounter/relationship with them will bring you so much personal growth. If you make it out of this relationship in one piece, you’re actually indestructible. And if they’re really willing to change—I suggest noting down their BIG, grandiose sacrifices for you that puts them at some risk—then there’s also a big chance you could have a harmonious and balanced connection
• ^^ why? Bc they know that you’re not superficial and you have substance to you, and they want that. Be wary tho, this person isn’t stupid and knows what strings to pull
• this person could have a tan tint to their skin or brown hair
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Pile 3. “Please let me in...”
• this pile’s energy seems a little closed off. not from your person but from you. I’m feeling indifference, constant wariness, but regardless, there’s always a wall
• you’re prob an introvert and has gotten hurt in the past really, REALLY badly, so you’ve been closing your heart off. There’s a piece of you that still wants to find love, hence your presence here, but you act like you don’t or you don’t show that you are interested in wanting it.
• if you’re an extrovert, however? You may not be TOO keen on sharing things about your life. Open to it, sure…but still somewhat selective
• you would sacrifice everything for the person you love, not that you would willingly admit this verbally. If you have, good for you!! You’re the muse baby
• your person is more likely an extrovert and has tried or IS planning to try to get closer to you/get to know you more. They KNOW you are more than what you show on the surface. They’re the only ones who can see the gems behind the rockiness you show
• they’re a virgin or inexperienced
•^^ I don’t think most of the people who chose this pile mind too much, honestly. There’s a bit of a corruption kink rearing its head in here…not super apparent but it be lurkin in da shadows
• oh they’re a switch hahaha. You can just push em on the bed and they’ll let you do whatever you want to them. They’re not complaining at all tho—just lock in on your target and DESTROYYYY 😈😈
• almost a puppy like energy to them—ALMOST. Almost. Bc they have leader vibes but a nice leader. Maybe not respectable by all…but most. Like one who seeks the best for the team but bc they’re not “alpha” or aggressive enough, it can be tough to get people to take things seriously. But eventually people do. Maybe even out of pity.
• I get the feeling this person had to be very in tune with their parents’/guardians’ feelings (I’m getting anxiety or just freaking out over messes and stuff) — maybe they’ve also grown with grandparents? Or have had the presence of their grandparents be very significant in their lives?
•^ bc of this they will most likely be vanilla in bed. I don’t even think they’ll lust after you for a while man I mean, outta respect yk? And also bc it doesn’t feel right to them. It’s not the first thing or one of the first things that come into their mind when they think about you
• ^^ you basically have to tell them what to do, what they can and cannot do too. They’ve had to be so involved in taking care of everybody with an undying kindness to them that they don’t really know where boundaries begin. They’d never wanna break your boundaries
• ok this does not mean that your person is a nice white male, btw!! I keep seeing a salesman, wearing a baby blue button up and khakis, brown hair…this person seems so average? — this could mean that they’re doing everything they can to make others happy and totally not paying attention to their own. I’m not sure if you’ll ever see this person cry in public, but if you make them cry in bed? Hey, go for it muahahah
• it will prob take a while to get them to be comfortable with thinking about you sexually. If they have to relieve themselves, they try to channel this energy into workouts or something physical that gets their mind off of you in that way. Inevitably, the idea of you in bed will pop up, but they’ll shake it off. It’s not even holding back—they just don’t wanna “disrespect” you and see you as an object (but like I said, if you want them to treat you like one in bed or smth, you have to let them know and say it with a lot of conviction. This person is very mentally bullheaded so it’s hard to break into them like that)
•I think they let a lot of things happen bc they’re that empathetic, or they just don’t have the energy for the chase. Like think little kid stealing from a shop, they’ll prob be like “hey kid- ah…” *sighs and scratches back of head as they watch the kid run away with said items*
• if you’re not interested in this person or blatantly ignoring them, they’ll really try to get you (but in a nonstalker-ish way) which is good!! They just want your attention really. They’re pretty much awestruck by you, ESPECIALLY if you ever go to an event and they see you all cleaned up and dressed, they’ll check you out and zone out mid convo I swear. You actually render them speechless.
• (now…we get to some of the graphics.) This person is not a serial masturbator, I will say. Once a day, max. If you’ll allow them, they would do more. They could honestly go all day if you made them. If this person works in an office and you make them soooooo desperate, they would hide somewhere, perhaps an empty room and just start finding heaven. Very quickly too. Quickly and (trying to be) quiet. They’re pretty on top of things and responsible, but if you just tell em what to do, it will be done. They even clean after their mess too (if they do it in public? Cleaning up fast due to freaking out). Like “oh god, what have I done…” They’re super fucking clumsy too and don’t have too good of a recovery in public tho. For example, if they run into someone they know, RIGHT after coming out of the restroom? Red, hot face, sweat all over their neck. Stuttering and shit when they try to say hi to the said acquaintance. When they touch themselves, they don’t use toys (which is very sad. You gotta spice up their lives. They’re open to it. If you’re not the one with spice, they’re also okay with it. And if you’re both okay with vanilla sex every time, feel free!) This person just uses their hands, but LIES DOWN. They like to relax, face the ceiling, close their eyes, and think slow vanilla things…
•might be tmi, but when they touch themselves, it’s kind of inhibited…and not as fast as people do when they’re abt to cross the finish line, yk? Like either long edging sessions or never letting themselves climax sometimes, or rubbing/pressing very hard and still but not fast(?) when they cum…if you know what I mean? Idk if they’re doing it on purpose or if they’re not too experienced, or if they think they don’t deserve it? Scared maybe?
•no kidding, you could actually do anything to this person. cnc/dubious consent would be hot for them—though, they prob wouldn’t know what the kink is called lolll (you have to make sure tho. Establish boundaries and a safe word) bc they wanna be like “nooooo, don’t do that~~” while you’re all over them. BEFORE or IF you guys ever step into that stage tho, they’ll think about simple things if you do allow them to think about you sexually. Like you on top of them, slow grinding, soft touches, helping them out, mutual masturbation. there’s a little part that is innocent and doesn’t know how to step out of that or where to start when it comes to the more kinky stuff.
• it’s funny bc even tho this person has had a lot of experience outside, within a team or jobs, or clubs, etc., they’re so…malleable?? LMFAO 😂 crazy ass word to use but YES. you can throw them around like a damn doll and have them do this and that. A bit of hesitancy, but they know their main purpose in life is to serve :)
• but like I said, they’re a switch, so not only can they think abt you taking control (softdom energy), but if they think abt being on top, they think about slow, loving sex yk? Like slow grinding- oooh, yeah. that really gets them. They’re the type to milk themselves till the last drop too btw. Til. The. Last. Drop.
• also, most of the partners are not a loud moaner. They’re quiet, likely bc they’ve had to force themselves to be quiet in the household they’ve grown in. If your person is a loud moaner, they’ve grown unashamed of their sexual needs and have developed a healthy relationship with that aspect. If you’re with a person who’s like this and moans loud, congratulations!! They have become comfortable in their skin and you have made it so 🙂‍↕️👏👏 If they’re still quiet, def some insecurity bc of growing up with limiting beliefs or having to live with a lot of people in childhood. If you want them loud, you have to encourage it out of them. They’ll be pretty fuckin shy about it though. You realllly have to pull it out of them.
• bonus: if they’re loud, they’re a slut 😂😂 like a secret slut, yk? (this might be a bit darker so don’t read if you don’t want to—this really only applies to a small portion of people here—but chances are they get off…on being ashamed and self-degradation? A big example is being ashamed for engaging in sex/sexual activities? Like a masochist, “this is so dirty, I shouldn’t be doing this…” but proceeds to do it anyway bc they can’t help themselves?? And they likely degrade themselves while getting off. These people may secretly be content creators for this type of thing but appear angelic in real life OR they have potential to. Like them faceless whimper creators lmfaoo. Listen, hey…if you get with one of these people, you a winner winner chicken dinner
•there’s a big chance most people in this pile or the pile’s person feels ashamed or very guilty about the whole sex thing and masturbation; if you’re looking to improve your relationship with sex or relationship with this person, you have to help each other overcome this fear. It doesn’t matter who asserts themselves to the task. It requires the both of you at the end of the day. And boyyy is it gonna be hard- (…anxiety makes it hard for you to get aroused/stay aroused/reach orgasm tho 😮‍💨 the more you know…). No man, it’s gonna be so awkward—palms-sweatingly awkward. Breaking news, you might have to be the assertive one here. Your impatience could get the best of you and in that case, you’ll guide them. There are so many things that could go wrong in this situation of awkward pre-sex, but if this person has shown their worth to you and you actually trust them, a lot of it is salvageable by your own hand.
• however, if this situation goes south (and not the south we want…) then, this person will start to feel bad or insecure that they’ve hurt or done something wrong towards you, even though they’re a clumsy dummy who doesn’t intend to hurt people and tries hard to do everything right
• ^^ should you ever try to initiate it and try to sex em up again, you’d have to put a bit of work in to convince them, bc they were really open that one time and it was honestly…kinda the first time they’ve gotten so close to doing something THAT vulnerable and revealing. It would feel like they stripped and you didn’t like what you saw, and it was so apparent on your face that it broke them. That kind of vibe. A very sensitive person at heart.
• they get really anxious if something goes wrong. It’s probably a trait they picked up from parents/guardians being like that.
• they have SOOO much potential, seriously. But a lot of what-ifs on their mind so they’re playing it safe. Be confident, and maybe even borderline bossy, with them and gradually they’ll open out of their shell. This person is like hot liquid gold, waiting to be molded into your likings 😇
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**Teddy Note: Hi guys!! This is a super long post, but I hope you’ve gotten something out of it. My sexual tarot deck just came in and I’m pretty much obsessed with it already hahaha. Thank you for reading today’s post!! If you haven’t heard, I’d just opened up paid readings, and there is a sexual reading in there that is pretty much like this one, but more individualized towards you and pretty detailed (if you do decide to purchase, that is.) That’s all I gotta say. It’s been pretty intense doing these readings and the partners in these piles are all wildin in their own way 😅 Thank you again! Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t! Peace outtt :))
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