#Butterfly Options Trading

[signode-blog]

Comprehensive Guide to Butterfly Options Trading Strategies

Butterfly options trading strategies are sophisticated approaches that combine multiple options contracts to create a single strategy aimed at achieving specific profit and risk objectives. These strategies can be particularly effective in various market conditions, including volatile markets, bull markets, bear markets, and markets in consolidation phases. This comprehensive guide will…

[whoskimii]

can we just take a minute to appreciate how cuddly megumi would be when he's sleepy :(

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > megumi x you. pure fluff!! he's so soft. tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

poor megumi would be so tired. like, hey ! it's not that easy to be a grade two jujutsu sorcerer and a student at the same time.

he needs some rest. and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to take little nappy naps in your arms. yeah, he's just that needy when he's exhausted.

"hey, where you goin'..." he mumbled into the pillow as you were about to leave the bed. "i'm thirsty, meg—" he cut you mid-sentence. "drink later."

of course, you obliged and laid back down. you didn't want to irritate your sleepy boyfriend. he already had too much weight on his shoulders, and adding some more wasn't the best option on the table.

he instantly nuzzled his face in your neck, eyelashes fluttering against your skin. "m'tired..." he mumbled. "i know you are." you replied quietly, caressing his dark hair.

sometimes, you forgot how needy he could be. but you didn't complain. never. maybe that's why megumi loved you so much. but the funny thing is that he'd always deny how clingy he was. he just didn't want to admit it because you always teased him. but deep down, he knew you were right.

he couldn't help himself. how could he ? you were just so soft, so warm. you felt like a dream. sometimes, he'd even say the most romantic, adorable, heart-wrenching thing before going to whatever thing he was doing. he was just so clueless. "y'know, being with you feels like home. i'm home." he said before going back to brushing his teeth.

but you wouldn't trade him for anything in the world <3

ahhUHHGH megumi is so cute i wanna eat him up

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[moonstruckme]

Are you going to continue the roomate James series? I’m actually in love with it😍

Yes! Thank you for reading <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 804 words

“Honey, I’m home!” 

A smile tugs at your lips, even as you roll your eyes to yourself. James has become more and more fond of these pet names, and of announcing his comings and goings like he’s worried you’ll miss him. (He’s never gone long enough for that, though you might actually miss him if he were.) If you don’t respond in some way or another, he’ll—

“Hey.” He pokes his head through your cracked door. “You alive in here?” 

You pause in folding your laundry to give him a deadpan look. “I could have been in my underwear.” 

He looks mildly horrified. “I’d hope if you were, you’d close the door all the way.” 

“You know, I did manage to stay alive even before you moved in.” 

James leans on your doorframe, giving you the sort of lazy grin you have to pretend doesn’t scare butterflies into flight in your stomach. You really hope that wears off soon. “See, but now I’m convinced if I don’t check on you, you really will die and it’ll be my fault.” 

“How would it be your fault?” 

“Classic case of roommate neglect. I smell the rotting coming from inside your room, the police come, they ask How did you not know your roommate was dead for a month? I reply, Well, officer, she said she could be galavanting in her underwear at any moment. They put me in handcuffs and I spend the next five to fifteen years having Sirius bring me cigarettes I don’t want so that I can trade them for ramen noodles in the yard.” 

You scoff, fighting a smile. “As if you would ever eat ramen.” 

“That’s what I’m saying, sweetheart. You’d be forcing me upon desperate times. But hey,” he raises his hands in a show of surrender, “I didn’t come in here to discuss prison currency. Would it be alright with you if I had friends over tonight?” 

“Of course,” you say, looking back down to match a pair of socks. “You don’t need to ask every time, it’s always alright.” 

“Thanks,” he says warmly, “but it makes me feel better to ask. What do you want on your pizza?” 

You blink. “Me?” 

“Yes, you.” He smiles. Butterflies all over again. “You don’t have to hang out with us to eat it—though we’d love to have you—but I’m not just going to order pizza to your own apartment without having any for you.” 

“It’s your apartment, too,” you remind him. “That’d be a very normal thing to do.” 

“Irregardless.” James waves you off. You wrinkle your nose at the word choice. “What do you want?” 

You swallow a sigh. There are some things, you’ve found, James is nearly impossible to argue with about. If you really dig your heels in, sometimes you can make him move first, but you don’t feel like it right now. 

You do the next best thing you can think of: choosing the least obtrusive option. “Cheese is good with me, thanks.” 

His eyes narrow like he knows what you’re doing, but he says, “Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s here.” 

“Thanks.” You turn your attention back to your laundry. James lingers in the doorway. 

A month ago, you would have kept ignoring him, working on the (unfounded) hope that he’d go away. Now, you look up. 

“Do you think you might come downstairs and hang out?” he asks. He has a strange look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. “You know you’re always invited.” 

You give James a terse sort of smile. He’s not stopped inviting you to do things since the day he moved in. Your open invitation has been made very clear, and you’ve been accepting it more often lately. James is someone who makes it easy to feel close to him. He tosses pet names at you like they’re nothing, comes to check on you when he gets home, pretends he needs to go grocery shopping just because you need a ride to the store. Last week, you’d sat down to watch a movie with him and woken up to a black screen, your cheek smushed into his shoulder and his head resting atop yours. 

Somehow, you’ve let him spill into your life without meaning to, and now you have these childish, crush-like reactions whenever he smiles a certain way or calls you pet names with that familiar bent to his voice. You know you just need time to sort these feelings out. It’d probably be ideal to keep yourself from spilling into his life as much as possible in the meantime. 

But it’s hard to deny James anything when he’s so sweet to you. And he’s nice. His friends seem nice. 

“I might,” you say. 

“I’ll take the win,” James replies, smiling. These butterflies are seriously inconvenient.

[bri-cheeses]

| May 12th | Prompt: Kiss | Word Count: 827 | @rosekillermicrofic |

“Barty,” Evan whined, stretching a hand up to where Barty was dangling Evan’s notebook over his head, “give it back!”

Barty grinned and raised the notebook higher. “Why d’you want it so much? Got something in here you don’t want me to see?”

The truth is, Evan did have something in there he didn’t want Barty to see—countless sketches of quick green eyes, a slim nose, a devilish grin, and beautiful brown hair. Which, of course, all came together to form drawings of the boy in front of him, who could open the notebook at any time and see those mortifying doodles.

So, he did one of the things he did best.

“No,” Evan lied. It came out only slightly unconvincing.

“You know what?” Barty’s thoughtful tone of voice caused Evan’s stomach to sink. “I think that you do have something in here you don’t want me to see.”

Evan sucked in a breath. “Barty.” His voice was low and dangerous. “I swear to Merlin, if you don’t give me that notebook right now—”

“Alright, alright, relax,” Barty laughed. Evan had always loved his laugh, but he wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t make him feel slightly nervous at this specific moment in time.

“I propose a trade,” continued Barty. “You give me something, and I’ll give the notebook back.”

Narrowing his eyes at him, Evan gave Barty an assessing look. It was very likely he was telling the truth and that he really would give Evan’s notebook back, but it was almost as equally likely that he wouldn’t. So Evan considered the risk, weighing both options in his head, then made his decision.

“What would I have to give you in return?” He asked.

Barty’s eyes gleamed.

“You’d have to give me…” he paused, ever the one for dramatics, “….a kiss.”

Evan felt his eyes widen, and he felt the need to check if his ears were working properly. “Sorry?”

“I said, you’d have to give me a kiss.”

“And—” Evan paused, “and why would you want me to give you a kiss?”

Barty’s expression grew more serious. The way he held eye contact with him made Evan blush, a rush of heat warming his face.

“I think you know why,” Barty said. His voice was intense and filled the space between them easily. Evan blushed harder.

“Then I suppose… that I would like that trade.” Evan winced at his words; he sounded like an idiot. But, after all, he was an idiot—just a love-struck one.

Barty’s grin returned and he swayed forward slightly, arm lowering the notebook. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Good question. What was Evan waiting for? Barty was here, right in front of him, and he wanted a kiss from Evan.

So Evan grabbed the collar of Barty’s shirt and tugged him forward, bringing his mouth down to his own.

Barty’s lips were soft and demanding as he stretched out his hands to grab Evan’s waist, then pulled his body towards his own. His strong grip caused an explosion of uninvited butterflies in Evan’s stomach.

Evan reached up a hand and threaded it through Barty’s hair, gasping against his lips. His eyes were closed, but he could feel Barty’s desire in the way that he kissed—hard, explorative, and all-consuming.

Evan could’ve stayed there for hours, but they inevitably broke apart from one another some time later.

But Evan didn’t open his eyes, instead choosing to lean his forehead against Barty’s for several seconds afterwards. He had the worst feeling that this would all turn out to be some cruel joke Barty had decided to play, just to see how things would turn out. Evan was afraid that if he opened his eyes, everything would simply slip away, the way dreams did after waking up in the morning.

“Evan,” Barty whispered. His mouth was still close enough to Evan’s that he could feel him speaking. “Look at me.”

Despite his apprehension, Evan lifted his head and opened his eyes shyly.

Barty’s beautiful face greeted him, his expression wrought with wonder. He looked slightly dazed, too, and Evan realized with no small amount of pleasure that Barty was still clinging to him tightly.

“Bee,” he breathed, looking into Barty’s eyes.

Barty seemed to share the unspoken sentiment and his mouth curved into a soft smile.

“I’ve been waiting ages to do that,” Barty confessed.

Evan mirrored his smile, an intense feeling of joy spreading out from his middle and to the tips of his fingers and toes.

“Me too,” he said. Then he added playfully, “We should do that more often.”

Barty huffed a small laugh and, using his convenient hand placement on Evan’s hips, tugged him forward until their chests were a hairbreadth from touching.

“I think,” he said lowly, lowering his mouth until he was murmuring against Evan’s lips, “that you are correct.”

And then he crashed their lips together once more, clearly eager to start testing Evan’s theory.

[pidgefudge]

this one doesnt have blood but it DOES have fantastic hair dye options so i will gladly make that trade

@falloutcoys @trans-arthur-lester @ghost-with-teeth @pyxxie-nyxxie @nyxfaei @arthurlestermalevolent @lemonsrlit @c-a-r-0-l-i-n-e @origami-butterfly @orangesideirrational @vespersbelladonnakiss @thecatspasta @crows-junk-pile woe picrew chain be upon ye

[aevumgames]

✦ | To light the darkest of paths.

Those Long Dead is a medieval fantasy interactive fiction story, with angelic imagery and themes worked in, and a focus on romance. It is rated 18+ for depictions of swearing, potential sexual themes, violence, and death. More warnings may be added as development goes on.

Three generations.

That's how long it's been since this kingdom was conquered. In a time of great upset, the First Queen led a rebellion against reviled rulers and oppressive laws. Waging war with unmatched cunning, she rallied many powerful soul mages, known as angels, to the cause. From that conflict, the kingdom of Calcherth was born, built on the bones of the old empire. The First Queen ruled with great compassion and wit, but not all sins are forgiven with time. For the deaths she had caused during the war, the First Queen was murdered by the very people she had endeavored to lead.

The loss of its ruler did not spell the end of Calcherth, however. The coup was quickly suppressed, and the First Queen's son took the throne in her place. Now, many years later, the scars on Calcherth's short history have faded, and advances in soul magic improve lives for many within its borders. However, those same advances are viewed as a threat by Calcherth's neighboring kingdom, and many fear war is on the horizon once more. To make matters even more dire, the Second King has suddenly passed away, leaving his youngest son to succeed the throne long before he is old enough.

The effects of these events are so far-reaching, that even you are beginning to feel them, far to the southwest in the remote town of Lest. You are the child of a retired knight of the kingdom, who traded in his sword for the deed to Lest's tavern. The Fool's March, your father has named it, and the humble, but beloved tavern has been the center point of your entire life. But now, with rumblings of war, your father plans to pick up a blade once again, heading to the capital to enlist and leaving you behind in your childhood home. With him no longer by your side, what will you do when a threat to the entire kingdom comes for you? What will you do when you find out you may be a soul mage, yourself?

Medieval Fantasy setting with angelic imagery and themes, and a focus on romance.

Adult characters, with the main cast being mid twenties to early thirties.

Customizable MC. Select your first name, last name, pronouns, appearance, orientation and manifestation of powers.

Five romance options of varying gender and personality, who you can interact with as you choose.

More to come as development continues!

Kaine Breckem (he/him) - The blacksmith's former apprentice, who your father took in and hired at the tavern a few years ago. A kind, but mischievous individual, Kaine cares about others a great deal, but that doesn't stop him from being full of snark. Kaine can be your closest childhood friend, or someone you unfortunately work with; the choice is yours to make. Regardless, he's rather protective of you... but who will protect him when he needs it?

Vermillion "Millie" Lousat (she/her) - A descendant of a noble family, Millie has extensive education and combat training... and is also quite the social butterfly. It doesn't matter if it's the docks or the Gilded District, if you want connections somewhere, Millie has them. She wears her heart on her sleeve and doesn't care about the consequences. Maybe you'll catch her eye, somewhere amidst the mass of other's trying for her affections?

Leon Calcherth (he/him) - Technically a prince, Leon is the standoffish older brother of the Young King, Caleb, but is no longer considered to be in line for the throne. He greatly regrets the situation this has put his younger brother in, as they're very close. Leon is not easy to get close to because of the way he acts, but maybe the prickly prince has a softer side underneath the thorns?

Milo Lance (they/them) - The commander of the Order of Light, and they absolutely live up to the position. Practically raised in Gilramore's guard barracks, Milo's personality tends to come across as stiff and business-like, but in actuality they simply enjoy being effective and to the point. A truly gentle soul in a warrior's suit of armor, if you can persuade them to let down their guard.

Clementene Fairwreight (she/her) - Celementene is a talented soul mage for the Order, but she is a researcher at her heart; field work isn't particularly for her. A slightly nervous disposition and bad eyesight really only add to her penchant to stay within Gilramore's white stone walls. Her surprisingly daring experiments with magic captivate most of her attention, but maybe she'll find something in you that can capture her focus as well?

Demo last updated 8/8/2024.

ITCH.IO PAGE | PATREON | DISCORD SERVER | PINTEREST

[dearsnow]

NO PROMISES

- just as you’re settling down, hobie takes you out for the night. (hobie brown x gn!reader, fluff)

word count: 1129

a/n - this is for my very good friend @literally-hobie as part of a trade we did :) go give them all my love!!

The night is a relaxing one. You have your music playing as you relax on your bed, inhaling the crisp midnight air. The gentle rhythm of your breathing matches the song’s saccharine melody and the plushies next to you smile kindly at your figure. You are completely embraced by your calm sheets, until a sudden noise causes you to shoot up.

It’s a fast rapping at your window, like knuckles covered in fabric. You move to open it, staring directly into the eyes of your official-but-not boyfriend.

“Hobie!” You hiss. “You can’t be here. My parents are asleep in the next room over, and I seriously can’t be caught with you at,” you check your phone, “12:32 AM.” Your voice is rapt with hushed concern. “What do you need?”

He tilts his head lazily, like sticking to your windowsill is the easiest thing in the world. “I jus’ thought it would be cool to have some fun tonight. Hidden concert and all that. It starts in like ten minutes, but we don’t gotta be early.” Oh, it is so like him to do this sort of thing. You bite the inside of your cheek as you weigh your options. Though it’s not the safest idea, there’s nothing that you and him can’t handle. You don’t really have anything better to do anyways, and despite the late hour, this could be the opportunity of a lifetime.

“...Alright, just don’t get me killed on the way over.” He grins, and the sight makes your heart skip a beat.

“I can’t promise you anything. Nothing is ever certain.” He says, eyes sparkling and motioning for you to follow him.

You climb out your window carefully, helped by Hobie’s rough hands and gentle touch. He keeps a secure hold on your waist, sending butterflies flitting through your stomach. He always manages to fluster you, no matter the situation. 

He pulls you up, slinging a web up to your roof and setting you down upon the shingles. The view atop the world is the sweetest thing you’ve seen in a long while- excluding Hobie, of course. Stars twinkle overhead, fully visible and bright. You take a deep breath, smelling the hints of wet leaves and a touch of smoke.

“Shall we?” Hobie asks. As you nod, he swiftly picks you up and swings away without even a hint of effort.

Your heart flutters at the sudden weightless feeling, causing you to release a breathy laugh. You’ll never get used to flying through the air, no matter how many times he takes you swinging. Utter exhilaration courses through your veins as Hobie takes you from building to building until you finally reach the concert venue.

It’s set in a run-down old building that looks like it hasn’t had a roof for centuries. It must’ve been an office building or something, judging by the size of the ground floor. The walls are blown through, with many entrances and exits for quick escapes. Dozens of people are milling around the area, and all of them look extremely pumped. There are zero security guards, just how Hobie likes it. 

As soon as he sets you down, right in front of the unstable looking makeshift stage, a drum beat starts. It’s followed by a guitar riff and the screaming of fans. Hobie slides an arm through yours and peers at your face, illuminated by the flashing stage lights. He’s never seen anything as amazing in his life.

The music gets your heart pumping as the band appears on stage, the melodies familiar yet nothing you have ever heard before. In every way, this night reminds you of Hobie.

“Like what you hear?” He all-but shouts into your ear, trying to be heard over the screams and rhythm. You smile wider than you’ve smiled in a long, long time as you nod. He seems satisfied as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

The music lasts about an hour, which is way too short in your opinion. Everyone else seems to agree, but it seems the band members have other places to be. Hobie pulls you aside as you walk out of the building, buzzing with excitement.

“Pretty nice, huh? I dig their commentary on the corruption of our current political system.” His voice is raspy as he stares at you. He always maintains eye contact, something you’ve noticed as you spend more time with him. He has a smile on his face, seeming to be genuinely happy. You’re so, so glad you went on this little adventure with him. Even if it was the worst experience of your life (which it definitely wasn’t), just seeing his smile would make everything worth it.

You smile back. “I loved it. You should take me out more often,” You tease, grabbing his arm. He lets out a quiet laugh, tipping his head back and staring the night dead in its eyes.

“We havta do this again. I follow the punk scene, so there’ll prolly be another show here in a few days. Would ya want to go with me?” His breath forms clouds in the cold night air, and you shiver a little bit.

“Of course, Hobie. Just warn me in advance.” You quip.

“Again, no promises.” He grins. “C’mon, there’s still night left. Let’s chill.”

He leads you away from the venue and down a street, making a game out of kicking pebbles and twigs. A laugh bubbles up from your chest as he kicks a rock so hard it dents an abandoned metal trash can. Damn, being Spider-Man really has its perks. When you finally reach the end of the road, you see a little set up of pillows and lights between two buildings and an overhang.

You take a step forward hesitantly. “Did you set this up?”

“Yeah, I figured it might be nice to have a place to ourselves.” He shrugs. There’s a sparkle of excitement flitting around in his eyes.

“Cool.” You breathe. He motions for you to sit down, and you comply.

Before you know it, he’s hanging from the overhand, face-to-face with you upside down. You laugh as his breath tickles your face. You know exactly what he’s asking for. 

Your touch ghosts over his face, and you press your lips to his. You’ve kissed him before, but this is something new and exciting, something straight out of a comic book. It feels electric. His lips are a brushstroke of warmth against a soft canvas.

When you finally pull away, he is breathless like he just finally figured out how to be alive.

“We should do that again.” Hobie smirks, eyes gently peering into yours. The string lights overhead shimmer with a newfound glory.

“I would love to,” You whisper, smiling, “but no promises.”

[kenziesimsblog]

SIMS 3 YOUTUBER LEGACY

SIMS 3 YOUTUBER LEGACY

FOR THIS LEGACY YOU CAN CHOOSE WHERE YOU LIVE BUT MUST BE A CITY CELEBRITY WORLD FOR GEN ONE PLEASE NOTE NOT ALL OF THIS INFORMATION OR TRAITS/GOALS FIT THE YOUTUBERS!

GEN 8 WAS A FILLER BECAUSE I COULDNT THINK OF ANYONE THEY HAPPENED TO POP UP ON MY RECOMMENED !

GENERATION 1- TARA YUMMY

you grew up in a rural town moving to the big city as soon as you got the chance , your confident with yourself and love to be social what does the city life hold for you?

STYLE PREFERENCE - Y2K

TRAITS - social butterfly, irresistible, party animal, dog lover and vegetarian

LIFETIME WISH- blog artist

GOALS

run a 5 star blog

get a partner have a few kids THEN BREAK UP no marriage yet

go clubbing every saturday night

adopt a dog -your a party animal throw birthday parties every weekend

throw parties for holidays sometimes -do not eat meat your a vegetarian

become a five star celebrity

when you reach 8 days before elder status get back with your ex and have a private wedding with your family

complete your lifetime wish then gen complete

OPTIONAL IF YOU HAVE THE MODELING MOD JOIN MODEL CAREER AND MASTER MODELING SKILL*

GENERATION 2- SAM AND COLBY

your parent was kinda of a party animal they never really grew up as soon as you reached young adult status you left.

STYLE PREFRENCE - DARK ACADEMIA

TRAITS- adventurous, night owl, rebellious, loves the outdoors and easily impressed

LIFETIME WISH- paranormal profiteer

GOALS

meet your best friend in high school and stay friends your whole life -pull pranks -when your first move out have atleast 2 roomies aside from your best friend

move out of roomie house with your best friend -join ghost hunting profession with bff

fall in love with co worker or bestie

get married fast

have as many kids as you want

must have triplets {can cheat this}

complete lifetime wish

GENERATION 3- STURNIOLO TRIPLETS

you and your triplets have always been close and its hard to move on

STYLE PREFERENCE - STREETWEAR

TRAITS (only give to main heir) - good sense of humor, friendly, schmoozer , excitable, and vehicle enthusiat

LIFETIME WISH- reach max influence with all social groups

CAREER- self employed

GOALS {follow with heir}

stay close to other triplets

you all move in together -you go to uni for fun ultimately dropping out

meet partner in uni

join any freelance career -only have one kid

be extremley close to child and partner

GENERATION 4- SIMPHORA (WRITTEN BY @simphoraa)

Name - Simphora °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𐦍༘⋆

Description - You like to call yourself the “Jack of All Trades”, and eh.. you may not be actually considered one. But, you have a lot of interests, passions, the undying urge to explore new things, and acquire more knowledge and skills. Go show the world what you’re truly capable of!

Aesthetic - Luxurious Baddie

Traits - Ambitious, Dramatic, Computer Whiz, Hopeless Romantic, Workaholic

Lifetime wish - Forensic Specialist: Dynamic DNA Profiler

Goals:

Enroll in University and major in Technology

Live off-Campus and have one roommate

Get the disliked relationship with your roommate, and then find a reason to kick them out

Earn the Technology Degree

Reach level 10 in the Law Enforcement Career (choose the forensic branch)

Master the Logic skill

Create a Online Dating Profile

Fall inlove quickly with someone from the Online Dating website

Play video games once a day

Become a streamer, and livestream every Friday night (this is optional because you need to download the streamer mod from ModtheSims)

Befriend some supporters

Have as many kids as you want

GENERATION 5 - FLORYDA (WRITTEN BY @florydaax)

your life was cozy you wanted it more!

TRAITS- bookworm, cat person , clumsy, loner and socially awkward

LIFETIME WISH- the cat herder

CAREER- Lawyer (custom career by missyhissy) or law enforcement

GOALS

Join the Ballet/Dance after school activity as a child

Get a parttime job at the supermarket as a teen -Go to university and get a degree

Have at least 2 cats -Get married to your first boyfriend/ partner

Have 2 kids

Buy and read books every week

Master the Social Networking and Writing skills -Complete the lifetime wish and reach the top of the career

GENERATION 6- MR BEAST

you had a good life and you want to make sure others do to even if yours goes downhill

STYLE PREFERENCE= COMFY/ CASUAL

TRAITS- good, lucky, nuturing, ambitious, and charismatic

LIFETIME WISH- leader of the free world

CAREER- political

GOALS

donate to a charirty every week -do any opportunity that earns money or relationships

you meet a partner in high school but they cheat on you

your single for a while, until you meet a single parent

become close to them and there child

adopt 2 strays

adopt a kid

play a lottery when you can

your partner suddenly dies take in there kid'

have atleast one kid with your partner before they die

never remarry

complete lifetime wish

never have a bad relationship or distant friends

GENERATION 7- CATALEAH

you love animals and want to save them all

STYLE PREFERENCE - COTTAGECORE

TRAITS- animal lover, eco friendly, loves the outdoors, socially awkward and green thumb

LIFETIME WISH- the ark builder

CAREER- horseman

GOALS

get your first animal as a gift from your parent

have two of each animal that lifetine wish says

farm animals optional

master gardening skill

have a "perfect" garden

go to equestrian lot

learn to ride horse

be close to every animal

meet another animal lover

be close to your kids you lost your parents

complete lifetime wish

GENERATION 8 - CARLO AND SARAH

you want the perfect love life

STYLE PREFERENCE- FANCY

TRAITS- hopeless romantic, family orenited ,artistic, friendly and neat

LIFETIME WISH - surronded by family

CAREER- FREELANCE ARTIST

GOALS

meet your best friend in high school

when you graduate go to france

find your partner there

they move to town you get married

have 5 kids

do a family activity every holiday

throw many parties

complete lifetime

DONE

TAG ME IN POST I WOULD LOVE TO SEE!

[raintailed]

Brand new refs for both the Trader and the Snake for Art Fight :]

Trader lives in the Southern Regions (near Fifth Act) and looks for scrap metal and other valuable materials to trade to scavengers.

The Snake, a strange creature with traits of both garbage worms and overseers, watches over and assists the Trader.

Notes transcripts under the cut!

Butterfly, "The Trader;" they/them, vi/vir, she/her

optional whiskers

green markings glow

has small patagia

short muzzle

ploofy mane

sticks scrap metal etc in tail fur

The Snake; it/its, she/her

tail gradient: #bcd4cd, #83a3a7

halo: #10121c hard light 80%

can have words or symbols above head

can hold objects too

(eyes turn red when angry)

body glows like an overseer: #bcd4cd

size comparison (Trader is 3'5")

[signode-blog]

Effective Trading Strategies Using Options

Options trading offers a variety of strategies that can be tailored to different market conditions, providing traders with flexibility and opportunities to manage risk. Here, we explore multiple options trading strategies, each designed to capitalize on specific market environments, including volatile markets, bull markets, bear markets, and consolidation phases. 1. Covered Call Overview A…

[davycoquette]

Another collaborative writing snippet turned into a post for the ol' Writeblr. Shiloh, the "you" in #coyotebackstabby, dons his rubber goat head to stomach bullying the man with whom he's hopelessly infatuated.

Shiloh did not think this was a tenable option, so he spun the freshly lubricated balisong into his grip and stood, then grabbed his Billy mask off the edge of the bed. He knocked his hat off with the back of his wrist, then yanked his big rubber goat mask down over his head.

It was an awful looking thing, with the lower teeth bared and the eyes pink and devilish. Big rubbery goat horns jutted off the top of its head, and a fray of nappy white hair stuck out like a mane from the neck. But it wasn’t so much terrifying as it was dopey, and Shiloh spent a few moments tucking it down into the neck of his commemorative t-shirt and raising the collar of his jacket up around it.

Then he said in his Billy Goat voice,

“Come on, Shay. Shy’s not so baaaaad. He blew a hitman’s brains out up in Canada, just for you! Staked out at Isla O’Rinn’s place, just for you!”

It was kinda hard to see out of this thing. He struggled a little awkwardly past Kincaid if he didn’t clear out of the way in time, then tilted Shay in his chair and stepped on the toilet seat in an effort to get behind him.

“You fuckin’ psychopath,” Shay Ferrick snarled, but of course he was belted to a chair and couldn’t do shit about it.

‘Billy’ grabbed Ferrick by the luscious black curls and yanked his head back, exposing plenty of neck to press the edge of the butterfly knife against.

“Laaaaanguange!” the coyote-turned-billygoat bleated, then pressed down enough to spring a little bloody leak in Shay’s neck so he’d know he meant business. “Now, you tell the sexy PI where you hid the money, or Billy’s gonna saw your head off and trade it to the mob to keep your kid alive.”

Ferrick did not know Billy to lie about these things. He also did not know Shiloh to consider himself and Billy the same entity, so the safety he enjoyed when it was Shiloh with his polite eyes seemed to be moot.

[multiplicationdivision]

How to accidentally share a body: a guide on improper usage of bodysuits

Jim hadn’t intended this result, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

It had been an attempted body snatch. A injection he’d gotten from a friend, who’d showcased its efficiency with reckless excited abandon as he shrugged on the hollowed husk of a passing gym bro. He’d seen firsthand how the concoction let one acquire a whole new persona, wearing another’s body and brain atop your own.

Jim just hadn’t known this was an option.

Tyler hadn’t been an easy mark. He wasn’t some easy-going brain-dead dude bro. He was a force of nature honestly, everything that Jim wished to god he was. Likeable, funny, extremely intelligent. An avid motorcyclist, probably just to make him hotter than he had any right to be. He was a social butterfly with enough wit to get a immediate sense of a person.

“You know I knew you wanted something from me dude, but I couldn’t guess it was this” Tyler said, preening at the mirror. He flexed his arms and Jim could feel the way their tightly combined muscle mass was packed beneath Tyler’s skin. Everything that Jim was sat beneath a shell of Tyler. He could almost still feel the divide, his skin rubbing against whatever the injection had made of Tyler’s insides.

Tyler gave him a happy self-satisfied smirk as Jim rolled his eyes at the guy’s blatant self-obsession. “Yeah I wasn’t really subtle, was I”, Jim sighed. Tyler laughed, before Jim’s side’s arm to traitorously mess up Jim hair to his protests. Jim couldn’t help but blush despite the annoyance, the vivid red of Tyler’s blush across his face. It was crazy how easily that face could make his heart flutter, a fact that Tyler clearly took pride in considering he could feel Jim’s heart in their chest judging but how the guy seemed to lavish in Jim’s little crush.

This would’ve been a lot less complicated if Jim had known what he was doing when he injected Tyler that distant feeling week ago. Jim had been a suspicious fucker and Tyler had known, but he’d been very vocal about how distracting Jim had been that week.

“Like a gay little goblin” Tyler said one night. “But a really adorable one, all anxious and shady”.

“I wasn’t even that attractive” Jim had argued, maybe a little of his miniscule ego worming its way into his voice.

“Attractive is subjective Jimmy” Tyler corrected, voice low and reassuring. Jim wondered if they had the same lungs and the reason he was always speechless was because of that. “You’re quite a sweet little weirdo once you get past the science fiction crime of it all.” Tyler said like the science fiction crime was so little.

Jim had injected the guy when they’d finally been alone. 3 hard fought invitations to the kinds of parties Tyler was a natural inhabitant of. 3 parties where Jim searched for an in, only to be surrounded by people as Tyler practically orbited him. Almost mocking in how warped it was to Jim’s expectations, having a hunk wrapped around his finger only to be stopped from his sinister plans by Tyler’s army of loyal friends.

It was only during their first outside of party hangout when Jim had done it.

“You know I thought we were going to have sex” Tyler thought out loud.

It wasn’t sex. But they both enjoyed it, considering the fond smile Tyler seemed to remember it by.

That wasn’t the mental effects of the injection talking either. Jim had fast learned Tyler was just as much of a freak as he was.

It was unfortunately very hot.

It had been the oddest feeling that night. The injection had acted so fast, turning Tyler from a person to an empty shell in the matter of moments. Just a loose warm husk of his body in his worn leather jacket and old jeans.

Jim had need to take off Tyler’s shirt and jacket before he could find the mysterious entry point, appearing exactly like a perfect straight scar between Tyler’s shoulder blades. It had needed only slight touch before it was opened, feeling somehow soft within.

Jim had stripped, before widening that elastic opening. He hadn’t known what he was doing and it had shown. Nearly had tried to pull his legs through sideways.

It was at first like sliding his leg through molasses. It was firm and unyielding, yet utterly impossible to move in. Every push into it was impossible to reverse, but the idea of backing out at that moment had been preposterous.

The velvety feeling subsided as the static of nerve ending connecting alit from the feet up. He’d just managed to worm the shell up to his shins when the static subsided in a perfect intoxicating moment. Tyler’s muscles anchoring to his own, letting Jim wiggle Tyler’s larger toes under Tyler’s socks. Seeing Tyler’s shitty ankle tattoo peak out from the old jeans like it was his own shitty tattoo.

Jim had happily taken to effortfully pull the rest of the shell up, bunching Tyler and Tyler’s jeans up his waist. The thighs had gone and then Jim had gotten to the struggle of trying to shove his hard cock into the tight fit, trying his best not to let the high stimulation of fondling his dick into Tyler’s push him over the edge. Jim honestly couldn’t guess how he stood out from release as the nerves aligned up his dick inside Tyler’s sizable sleeve.

Maybe the fact that he impossibly couldn’t cum in that moment was his first hint, as some other will tempered his excitement to not waist the rest of the experience.

“It was like sensory deprivation and full body sleep, I guess. Comfortable in a way, but every time you lined us up it was like electricity. Really fucking good electricity. Does that make sense? Didn’t want it to end” Tyler explained as they cooked breakfast. Jim ate a lot these days. Muscles took a lot of energy to maintain, especially with the amount of work needed to build them.

Jim could feel the strain on every exercise get easier with every day, his body at the core becoming stronger in its own right. Solid muscle now working in conjunction with Tyler’s own.

He had been pouring with sweat as Tyler’s torso was pulled slowly up his chest. He’d gotten it as far as it could go before he needed to push his scrawny arms in, like trying to push your hand through a solid layer of clay. It took all of his feeble strength but eventually he felt his hands glide into Tyler’s like a tight pair of gloves. It was numb and then it crackled with sensation, Tyler’s bigger hands twisting and turning at Jim’s whim. The sensation had travelled up to his shoulder, and suddenly Jim could feel the hair on Tyler’s arms and the weight of the layer of muscle tense and relax to Jim’s tune.

Well not exactly Jim’s tune. It was definitely the amount of mind-numbing pleasure of the experience that made Jim believe his hand was acting under his direction to powerfully shove Jim’s other hand into Tyler’s empty other arm. It was certainly what Jim had intended to do, although maybe not so impatiently.

“You get wrapped up in taking it slow babe. I’m a much more impatient person” later complained Tyler over their 5th hour of side quests in their shared hobby of shooter games. Coordination had been confusing, but gaming had helped their messy tangle of bodily controls. That and working out refined it all, convincing Jim’s body to relax into Tyler’s own powerful shell.

His arm had had a much quicker journey into the Tyler’s other arm with Tyler’s full force behind it, pushing and messaging the fingers into position and receiving that incredible sizzling feeling of every nerve singing. The man’s body wielded a lot of strength in its lithe form, not so muscular as to be a bodybuilder but still impressive and disproportionally unstoppable.

It was only when only Tyler’s head laid empty and waiting in front of Jim’s head that he had been able to understand the difference between him and the body in who was doing what.

“I was trying to be gentle”

It wasn’t gentle, as Jim’s hands in Tyler’s moved against his will to awkwardly push his face into the tight mask of Tyler.

“I thought I was going to suffocate Tyler” Jim would complain, only to receive Tyler’s constant protests always going something like “Play stupid games, get stupid prizes”. Inject a hot guy with a mystery drug and don’t complain when it doesn’t go great.

Jim hadn’t been able to breath through the tightness of Tyler’s neck and shoulder slowing his progression upwards. It was the finality of Jim’s singular mistake, that being the insulating lubricant he had neglected to add. It wasn’t so much Jim’s mistake, as it was Carlson’s. The now buff once nerd who was Jim’s supplier.

“Oh it was probably the lube that I definitely forgot to give you” Carlson had cringed, looking at a panicked Jim and a amused Tyler sat head by head in a stretched hoodie. He had reached back to his own back and shown the slit that marked the entry point of his own bodysuit. It was still elastic where the conjoined twins’ was rapidly disappearing. “Lube does stuff to the nerves I think, makes them communicate but not like bond with you.” Carlson said, nervously looking at Tyler who was quirking his eyebrow in clear judgment to what that meant. Basically, turning a person into a interchangeable suit and preventing an consciousness in the suit to be anything but a shell of a personality that could be worn by the innermost person. Tyler would’ve thought it was despicable if he was normal, but unfortunately, he just found it hot.

Carlson couldn’t explain how the two heads had happened, but he had been a good lay. Jim and Tyler’s first technical lay together, although Jim was privy to Tyler’s memories of every previous lay. So it had just felt comfortable, somehow as they traded kissing his longtime geeky friend who now inhabited the built body of a lumberjack-like man. Or the gym bro that Jim had watched be transformed. Or a stoner, a surfer or any of the other hundred suits Carlson had accumulated.

It was all so overwhelming.

He’d felt like he was suffocating. Then the pressure broke and the skin expanded, pushing outwards. It wasn’t the right path, but the biology hoodoo of it all was improvising. His face pressed into the expanded skin it settled onto his face, following the trends it was accustomed to. Shaping itself into the lips, eyes, facial hair that Jim had long since memorized. Jim’s sweaty hair pushing through the forming scalp only to get quickly transitioned into Tyler’s sweaty hair.

Jim had gasped for air and had opened his eyes. The vision was different and the colors a little duller. “I think you’re a little colorblind Tyler”, Jim would later say. “Oh, huh red and green do look pretty similar” was Tyler’s amazed reply. It undersold the absolute perspective shift that were Tyler’s eyes, alongside the invasion of literal perspective of Tyler that slowly filtered into Jim’s brain.

Tyler lived inside Jim as much as Jim lived inside Tyler. Tyler had gotten a taste of how true that fact was over their week together. It bordered on the horrors of complete privacy invasion, but Jim’s luck had just gotten a person who was far too into it.

“Name my first memory” Tyler had demanded, knowing that something like that was nearly impossible for anyone to accurately discern. Especially for a person who was dealing with the personality of a whole other man seeping into his own.

“Fire at the Dennys?” Jim guessed, genuinely disturbed by the visceral memories of flaming pancake mix and molten syrup. Tyler just looked awed and their dick certainly twitched in their joggers, the little response that Jim had gotten quicly acquainted too despite how little he could actually see of the man’s expressions. It was generally pretty hard to turn one’s head to see the head next to you. Gaped excitement was pretty obvious though. That and the quick arousal.

He'd felt the same exact reaction when he turned his head after that gasp of air, only to see the same old Tyler looking at him. Mouth wide open as the empty head rapidly regained mass, seeming to draw it from nowhere, yet the sensation of that other face still filtering through Jim’s brain.

The swallow of shock. The rush of adrenaline and fixation of pure need.

That awe had quickly fallen under the urgenecy that was the two of them in that moment. One of them had taken their dick in hand and the other had tempered the motions, leaving every stroke to cause Jim’s own dick to rub against the nerves of the one surrounding it. It was velvety friction and it was all either could think of, the poison of Tyler’s kinks being driven like a nail into Jim’s brain.

It was feeling close to another person, Jim could guess. That was what had become Tylers love for all this. Why Tyler had dove face first into each of Jim’s strange friends, trading favors and nights for all the little nick knacks that they could obtain.

The perception filter from one of them had been essential, making their status as a two-headed Tyler the norm. Not conjoined twins, but one person. The person that Jim’s brain was so convinced it was, being fed spoonfuls of Tyler every minute. Giving Jim’s little brain ever more material for his obsession with his now body mate.

Another had supplied sewing lessons, which was less obviously strange, but just as important. Store bought shirts were their regular enemy now and one that required some new skills to overcome, although Tyler’s motorcycle leathers still fit.

“Its good leather” Tyler said in victory, showing off the tight leather in the mirror. Jim could remember buying it, being the young Tyler who saved up to get the gear. All fresh faced from dropping out of college and enrolled in trade school.

Jim was as much Tyler as he pleased most days. More so when Tyler enjoyed it, all that restrained narcissism let loose between the two’s night’s alone to themselves. Other days, he was mostly just the weird goblin Jim under a Tyler patina and Tyler was just as fixated on that.

They’d ejaculated the cum of two men that first night before passing out in their own sweat on the bed. Introductions were made and that was life. They never had bothered to fix the situation in the slightest.

The entry point was nearly gone. Just a small opening in Tyler’s shell that shrunk by the day. They were happy to let it disappear. The sensation of Jim’s body beneath Tyler’s was always there, just rubbing against its cage in the right way to scratch an itch.

They would wake up every day, brush two pairs of teeth, share one cup of joe. Spend an agonizingly long time debating a morning jack off session after putting on their leathers, sometimes winning and sometimes losing the debate before shrugging on a pair of Tyler’s boots and heading to work. Often just jacking off at work if they hadn’t in the morning, possibly even fuck a customer if Jim’s burgeoning overconfidence was rearing its head that day. Spend the day working in the shop, two Tyler’s worth of attention and love on the same bikes and cars. Nothing but good reviews going forward

Evenings were spent in the merging of Jim and Tyler’s worlds. Strange men and women, Tyler’s own circle becoming just as strange as the worlds mingled. Trading morally grey concoctions and horny ethical dilemmas of identity. Dinner prepping as shapeshifters joke around their living room, trading stories and sexual encounters. Making many more sexual encounters with the men who were so many men, stacked inside each other.

It was a good chaotic tiring life and they were twice the man to take it on.

What a brilliant fluke of a result.

All thanks to fucking Carlson.

“You’re welcome by the way boys”

“Fuck off”

“Fuck off”

[greetingfromthedead]

Womanizer (Vash x F!Reader)

Plot: You've been traveling with Vash for a little while and with your current circumstances end up sharing a room. Turns out the confined space affects Vash in strange ways and he has turned on his charm to try and seduce you.

Series: Tempest Wind, but made to work as a oneshot

Pairing: Vash x F!Reader

Raiting: For everyone

Tags: Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Banter, Butterflies, I Have Never Been Good At Tagging Stuff

Word count: 2.3k

Author's Note: I said I would post this chapter for Valentine's Day or when I have my next mental breakdown. Well, it's not V-Day and while I do have a mental breakdown, this is different. I am vibrating with excitement as I can smell the finish line of Tempest Wind. There are only a few more chapters left to write, one rewrite and then a whole lot of editing. BUT I am nearly there and I can't wait to publish it for all to read! I will make the announcement for the release date soon! Follow me for more updates!

The bathroom door opens and you turn your gaze away from the window as you sit on the wide bed, your legs pulled against your chest. You see Vash exiting the small room, his hair still damp, but he wears a clean change of clothes. You see a pile of dirty laundry on the floor behind him. He looks a bit more cheered up from the refreshing shower.

"Okay, your turn. I'll deal with my laundry later. Hope you don't mind it being on the floor." he smiles awkwardly.

"Only under one condition... You have to do me a favor." you feel weird for what you're about to ask him.

"Anything," he assures with a neutral expression.

"Uhm. I... I need a change of clothes and I... I don't... well... you know... I don't want to go speak to people... on my own." you add the last part solely because you don't want to sound like a complete wimp.

"Oh, no problem!" he's like a cheerful puppy, "Well, one problem. I saw the place where they trade for clothes and the woman already closed shop. I was thinking that you might need some new stuff so I kept my eyes open."

"Oh well, guess I'll just be nude then while my clothes dry," you say quietly knowing what reaction this would get out of him. And you are completely right: he immediately goes red in the face.

"While I have nothing against it at all, I think I have a spare shirt in my bag I kept clean for emergencies." he mumbles out, too much of a goody two shoes to leave you in a situation where your options were to wear dirty and torn clothes or to be naked. He digs through his bag, throwing more dirty clothes into the bathroom and finally pulls out another black turtleneck. He gives it a sniff and then throws it at you. "No pants tho, not that they would fit you well anyway."

"Thank you." You catch the shirt and smile at him. You know his shirt is big and long enough for you to wear as a short dress. You keep it against your chest like a treasure when you get up and pick up the other stuff the hotel provides for your wash. As you pass Vash he gives you a gentle smile and you see it in his eyes too.

You lock the bathroom door and throw off your dirty clothes. The wounds in your stomach and chest are all healed up. You get into the shower and turn on the water. You let out a sigh and get to cleaning off the dirt and dried blood on your skin. It feels nice to be clean, your hair detangled and free of debris. You stand there for a little while, letting the water wash away the past. You wake from your daze and realize you're just wasting water so you get out and dry yourself off completely before pulling Vash's turtleneck on.

Everything is too big on you and it makes you chuckle. Vash doesn't look like a large person under his coat, but he has wide shoulders and a muscular physique, not to mention he is tall with long limbs. You roll up the sleeves to your elbows and pull down the shirt a bit more, it's halfway to your knees. You feel the thick fabric against your skin and smell the collar. It is clean, but has still a faint scent that you are used to smelling on Vash. 

You unlock the door and step out. The room is lit by the sunshine coming in from the window, the brightest spot being the table underneath it. Vash is sitting there and has taken apart his gun to give it a clean, his supplies scattered around. He turns to look at you when you step into the bedroom and lets out a whistle.

"I'd offered you my clothes a lot sooner had I realized how well they suit you." Vash's voice is joyous and almost too innocent. He stands up to come closer. You don't move and only look at him with curiosity. As he stands toe to toe with you he looks at you for a moment longer before taking off his sunglasses and turning them around to place them on your nose. "Great, you're only missing my coat and then you can go off and be Vash the Stampede."

"Funny man," you reply, voice neutral, "I'm missing a few key characteristics... like the desire to get shot."

"Your words sting, woman!" he says with a hurt expression and a condescending tone, but a smile lingers on the corner of his mouth.

"Even so, I'm sure "Vash the Stampede spotted running around with no pants on!" would be a catchy headline." you look at him through the orange glasses, he and the whole room seems sunnier, happier, filled with warmth.

"No, don't think so, it didn't turn many heads last time, but with you things might be different." he laughs, a genuine smile on his face and it makes your heart lighter. It makes you glad seeing him like this, every moment he seems happy makes you proud and you want to squeeze him tight as a sign of it. He hasn't told you much about his past and he doesn't need to, you know he has suffered a lot and still does, the pain of it painted on his face when he thinks you can't see.

"You are a ladies man, aren't you? A womanizer, a skirt chaser if you will." you say, looking up at him like you accuse him of something.

"What makes you say that? Are my charms working on you?" He seems almost too proud of it and you slowly shake your head with a sigh, a smile lingering on your lips, "What? Are you too embarrassed to admit I have game?"

"You are a tease. Probably the most un-serious person I've ever come across." you look him in the eyes, "And somehow, also the most serious, unshakable soul. You are an intriguing contradiction."

"Is it so hard to admit a simple truth?" he has a very playful expression on his face as he leans closer, you don't think you have seen him like this before.

"I'd rather get shot at than admit something like that." you joke, not shying away from him.

"Ouch."

Your arms yearn to reach out to him, to pull him closer, but instead you step around him, one of your arms nudging his as you pass and go to sit at the table to look at the weapon on it. You haven't seen it this close up before. You pick a piece of it up, you aren't even sure where it would go, never before have you held a gun in any form, they always made you feel uneasy, how they are able to take a life from afar.

"You call me unshakable? You're more stubborn than a tomas." Vash whispers right behind you, his breath moving your hair and sending a shiver up your back. He lets out a laugh as you turn around, one hand over the spot his air had tickled.

"You're so annoying." you blurt out, still looking at him through the orange glasses. His face is so close to yours even though you are leaning back a bit.

"Yet you still stick around." he laughs, a glimmer in him making your heart burst. "I'm not complaining, Sweet Pea."

"Insufferable. Do confined spaces always make you like this? I don't remember you acting up under the open desert sky. You were very civil." you say calmly, still teasing him.

"It's not the confined space that does me like this. No, no, it's probably you wearing my turtleneck that's slowly creeping up."

That comment makes you turn red, quickly you put the piece of the gun back onto the table and then both your hands pull the shirt down more and keep it down on your lap. You were still completely covered and you realize he only said it to rile you up. Guess he is just as good at teasing you as you are with him. He laughs and takes half a step back.

"Only joking, Sweet Pea, don't worry. Well, maybe part of what I said was true." he shrugs and reaches out over you to pick up pieces of his gun and starts to put it back together. You are blocked in and he doesn't look like he will let you get away.

What are these words coming out of his mouth? Vash is shocked, too stunned of his own brain. For the week he has been travelling with you after the incident in town he has wanted to pull you closer, give you a tight hug, hold you and take care of you the same way you seem to be taking care of him. All this time his aches and pains, both emotional and physical have found relief from you in one way or another. You have given him trust and comfort he hasn't felt in a long time. Vash thinks you might have been sent by a god perhaps. He is so grateful for you, but seeing like you keep some distance between the two of you, not shying away, but not coming closer either, makes him worried. He longs to be closer.

His head had been a mess of thoughts and ideas, but once he had seen you exit the bathroom everything was wiped clean. A million butterflies had taken over his stomach, filling his insides, his lungs, climbing up his throat. All he wanted was you by his side, no matter what. 

The words coming over his lips  were barely his, he blames the fluttering in his stomach, his head so wiped he might have even forgotten his name at that very moment. Everything he said to seduce you came from somewhere deep inside him, he felt so flustered he was surprised he could speak at all. He was worried he might have done it now, he had gone too far, been too weird, but you didn't shy away from him, not even a millimeter. Your face had been so close to his he had felt you exhale. He has gotten used to the rampaging insects to the point where he knows he won't be able to say anything close to as smooth again, not without stuttering at the very least. So he turns his attention back to his gun, leaving you just as flustered as he felt inside. He didn't want you to leave yet so he stood in your way so you had to keep sitting there, right next to him and he could steal a glance of you at any moment.

You look heavenly to him sitting in that ray of sunlight, his glasses still on your nose, painting your face with an orange light where the sun shines through the lenses. The oversized shirt makes you look so warm and cozy. You watched him assemble his gun, your eyes never leaving his hands, the way all of Vash's movements seem to have a purpose, the way his metal hand moves just like a flesh one. It is fascinating to you, the meticulous movements are like a performance, the way he flicks the gun, makes sure everything moves smoothly. After a bit your eyes stray out the window, you see the people moving in the streets, them going on their business, everything seems so peaceful like there's no violence in this world at all. You feel so normal, like you could fit in with them. The thought of you mingling among them, living a calm and local life brings a sad smile onto your face that you don't even notice until Vash's human fingers trace over your cheek.

"Don't look so sad," his hand goes to rest on the back of the chair. "Can I cheer you up somehow?"

You look up into his pretty blue eyes, they look like endless wells to you, they remind you of water, but not the kind you are used to on this planet. They recall a memory from a different life, one that you no longer remember.

"I'm fine, nothing to worry about. It was just my mind wandering off." you assure him, still looking into his eyes. You see his hand move off the chair again from the corner of your eye. It's as if he can't stop himself, he places his palm onto your cheek his thumb stroking your skin. He feels how soft and smooth it is, a painful reminder of the scars covering his body.

You look at him, his complexion seems golden through his sunglasses. His hand moves under your chin, the thumb trailing over it, your lips parting a little. His eyes are on your lips as he slowly leans closer. He yearns for you with his whole soul. His eyes find yours again, you look unshakable, like a constant that would never change. But he knows that if he's not careful he might lose you and it would be his fault. He hasn't even told you the truth yet, hasn't revealed his true nature. He can't be this selfish. So he stops and moves both hands up to take the glasses from you and put them back onto his own nose, tilting his head masterfully to the point where the light from the window would mirror back from the glasses and hide his eyes from you.

You look at him for a moment longer, frozen on that chair before turning away. How you had wanted to lose the gap, to pull him closer. But it's all too much, too fast. He says he trusts you, but you barely know anything about him, he guards his secrets closely. But you can't blame him for keeping his secrets, there's plenty you haven't told him either. Yet he fills your stomach with butterflies.

Read more Tempest Wind HERE.

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[thedo0zyslider]

Boy Troubles And Girl Help - 2k Words

Gem is woken up very early one morning by Oli, her neighbor having one request: to help him score a date with Pix. Gem, despite her grievances about being up so early, is determined not to fail him.

My third and final fic fot @mcyt-trick-or-treat!! For once again for Crystal_consumer!

When Princess Gem wakes up to a loud, banging knock on her door, she is not expecting Oli to be there. Especially since the sun hasn’t risen yet. She’s pretty sure he usually sleeps until noon on a good day. Oh, and also the sun hasn’t risen yet , meaning Gem should be getting some well needed sleep right now; not opening her front door for her stupid bard neighbor. She has no idea what he even needs at four thirty in the morning, or why he’s waking her specifically up. He knows how important skipping the night is to her! Gem personally can’t think of much that would be more important than that.

But, obviously, Oli does think something’s important enough to wake her up and risk her wrath. So she’s gonna get over the fact that it's four in the morning and help him anyways. Because what are neighbors for? (Even if she hates being awake at night because the darkness sucks…… but Oli needs help. And Oli does not suck, unlike the nighttime.)

“What is it?” She grumbles, still in her nightgown and arms crossed. Gem had rushed to the door so quickly, she hadn’t had time to stretch her wings out. So, while Oli is talking, she does just that; stretching each butterfly wing out behind her carefully. Her visitor pays the stretches no mind, too caught up in his mission to care.

“Well, you’re certainly happy to see me.” Oli remarks, looking unusually nervous. There’s a smile on his face, one that does a horrible job of hiding that. So does his body language, with the way he’s fidgeting. And Gem knows from experience a nervous Oli usually means he messed up and needs her help. Or he just died and can’t get his stuff back. That was a more common occurrence than him messing up, and would explain why he banged on her front door so loud. And why Oli is up at this hour.

“It’s four thirty in the morning, Oli.” Gem says, finishing her stretches. Good, that’s better. She can help Oli now that she doesn’t have to worry about her delicate wings not working as they should. If he did die somewhere, flying was probably gonna be the best way to find and get his stuff back. If he died at all. Gem is still kinda banking on her other option being true.

“But I’m your dearest chosen brother! And you’re my dearest chosen sister! Surely you must miss me!?” Oli almost whines the words out, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. Like her wounds had physically wounded him. Gem, well used to his theatrics, only rolls her eyes in amusement. Good to see he’s still got it at four AM.

“I saw you yesterday.” She points out, remembering the honeycomb and wool they had traded. Oli’s spare wool that was still sitting in her house, unused. The wool she’d planned to build with after she’d woken up this morning. A plan that clearly needed to be thrown out the window. “What did you do now?”

“I need help.” Oli admits, and does not elaborate further. Strange. That’s pretty strange. “I need help” is usually followed by some tale of woe, a tale of how Oli is just a poor boy who needs his amazing friends to help him. No tale is definitely weird by Oli standards. Very, very weird and out of character. Enough to get Gem a smidge worried about whatever happened.

“With what?” She prompts, raising an eyebrow. Gem expects to be told there’s somehow a warden at his base, or that his dragon egg actually hatched and that now he has a baby dragon. Maybe he let a wither lose somewhere in the world. Something big and absolutely disastrous that will take up the rest of her night and half of her day.

“....boys.” Oli mutters, quickly glancing away from her. His face is starting to heat up, indicted by the twinge of red starting to appear on his cheeks. Boys catch Gem off guard, and she blinks at him, processing. This is certainly a far cry from the hypothetical stray wither she’d been anticipating, and a lot less likely to kill her, to.

“Boys?” Gem perks up once she’s processed the word, forgetting her earlier grievances about the time. Boys and helping with boys were very important and valid reasons to wake somebody up at four in the morning. So were girls, helping with girls, and romance help with any other gender in between. Especially if it means Oli’s love life is actually real and not just a lie he made up. “Which boy?"

Oli’s looking at the ground now, his face as red as a tomato. It’s very fun seeing him so embarrassed! He never blushes like that over anything, even when the whole server teases him! She can’t believe a boy got him so flustered, and that he’s asking her for romance advice. Gem is so good at love advice— “uh…Pix.”

Gem blinks, surprised. “Really?” She exclaims, caught off guard. She was not expecting him to say Pix , of all people. Not that Pix is a bad guy, personality or looks wise. It’s just….she didn’t know he and Oli were so close. Honestly the archaeologist wasn’t even on her mental list she’d quickly made. She was even half expecting him to say fWhip instead. (Oli would absolutely fall for the guy he’s in debt to and enemies with. The idea being so painfully in character for him, Gem is surprised her loser brother wasn’t down bad already.)

“What’s so bad about Pix!?” Oli nearly yells at, looking her in the eyes again. His far has gotten redder, somehow, blushing all the way to his ears.

“Nothing, nothing!” She says, holding back a laugh. Oli must really be into Pix, if he’s getting that defensive that easily. “I was just expecting you to say Scott, or Sausage."

“They are both handsome.” Oli admits, sighing quite dramatically as he does. “But, neither of them have stolen my heart. Quite a shame for them.”

“If you say so.” Gem nods, wondering if Scott in particular would consider it a shame. Because Sausage definitely would, at least for a little bit. “Also, why do you need my help in talking to boys?”

“Because you have more experience!” Oli says, practically pouting as he talks. And he is right about that, Gem has plenty of experience with boys under her belt. She has plenty of experience with girls as well, if anyone else so desires any help with women. “Plus, according to Scott, Pix wouldn’t know a flirt or innuendo if it slapped him in the face!”

“Well, he’s right about that.” Gem hums, remembering a story Scott had told her once; where Pix had ignored his flirting multiple times, the archeologist thinking of nothing other than retrieving his stolen emeralds. (That Scott had totally not taken, by the way.) That man was not beating the asexual or the rock autism allegations, like at all. He was actually losing to them quite terribly. Gem didn’t know if it was more embarrassing or more impressive.

“Then you can help me!” Oli says, signature smile returning to his face. Good, he seemed to have gotten over his nervousness. Gem didn’t like seeing him so nervous and, for lack of a better term, un-theatrical. It was honestly a little bit unsettling to witness whenever she did. “Now let me inside, please? So we can talk boys?”

“I guess I can let you in.” Gem says, stepping out of the doorway. Oli scurries inside, hurrying like he hates the darkness as much as she does. Gem, amused by him again, closes the door behind them and leads him towards her bedroom. They were gonna have to get comfortable for this. Woo-ing Pix was not going to be an easy task, not in the slightest.

“Okay, how do you want me to help?” She says, sitting down on her bed. Gem crosses hers, getting comfortable like she intended, and pats the spot next to her. After a pause to take his instrument off, Gem having no idea why he felt the need to bring it, he takes the invitation and sits next to her. Good, now they’re both ready for romance talk.

“Do you think you could set us up on a date?” Oli asks, fiddling with the sheets. It seems his nerves are still there, then, just less intense than before. It only makes sense that he’s anxious, really. This is his crush they’re talking about! Most people get nervous when talking about the person they like, Gem included. She hopes Oli is less embarrassed by the nerves than she is when she has a crush.

“That might be hard.” Gem hums thoughtfully, grabbing for a pen and pad on her nightstand. She needs to start writing down date ideas, if this is the route they're going. And she needs to write down every embarrassing thing Oli says, so she can blackmail him with it later! He’s very gone for Pix and never living it down! “Pix barely leaves his empire.”

“We could have a date there.” Oli suggests, his fingers now drumming against the bed. Gem can’t tell if this is the first thought and he’s going with it, or if Oli’s extensively thought out first date ideas. Knowing him, the former option feels a lot more likely. “He could show me all his artifacts or something.”

“Maybe.” Gem thinks it over for a minute, mentally going over everything she knows about Pix and Oli in her head. She also writes down his date idea on her notepad, adding a small question mark next to it. “You wouldn’t be interested in that though, you’d just wanna stare at him. And you don’t wanna give the impression you don’t care.”

“That’s true…” Oli admits, frowning. He seems to be rethinking his one and only date idea, drumming against the sheets even harder. The bard clearly wants this to be a perfect first date, or as perfect as possible, if his nerves are anything to go by. And Gem’s determined to help him make it perfect! No sibling of hers would have a lackluster first date with anybody, not on her watch! Even if Pix being a bit of a recluse made it kinda hard.

“Maybe you could meet him on the Great Bridge for something? Or you could help him build?” Gem throws out two more ideas, writing them down as well. She writes down a few more, like gifting him emerald ore, and then scratches them out. The first date needs to be plausible. Getting a block of emerald ore is kind of a challenge. Plus, Pix probably had most of the nearby, easy to find ones already.

“But what if I mess up his castle or something?” Oli frets, daunted by the idea of helping with Pix’s research and restoration. Okay then, those idea’s won’t work, because if Oli is that nervous he will mess something up.. Gem scratches them out too, and tries to think of some better ones. She starts writing down basic date ideas, some she’s even tried before.

It is in that moment when she does that Oli’s dramatic streak kicks in again, funnily enough.Oli flops down dramatically, burying his face in her pillow.

“This is hopeless, Gem! I’m never gonna get a date!” He wails, words slightly muffled. It seems that, for now, her brother has chosen to wallow. She’ll have to encourage him to try the dating ideas later, then. Maybe they can come up with some better ones after they've rested and had a good breakfast!

“I’ll throw in a good word next time he visits the church, maybe that’ll peak his interest.” Gem says, giving the bard a few comforting pats on the shoulder. She returns her pen and notepad back to the nightstand, leaving it there for later.

“Oh, you're too good for me.” Oli mumbles, lifting his head slightly. He buries his face in the pillow again right after. He must’ve really stressed himself out about this, Gem thinks. Usually it takes like, an hour for him to give up this badly, not two less than great ideas. Oli was someone very used to stupid ideas failing on him, after all.

“I know I am.” Gem says, giving him a final shoulder pat. She wonders if she should start her morning routine, since Oli seems intent on staying for a bit. Gem isn’t quite sure how much time has passed, but the bees and sheep do have a schedule and do have to be attended to at their usual times. Oh, and the cows. Can’t forget about her little cows.

There’s a sudden buzz from a communicator, causing both of them to perk up. Gem looks towards her own, wondering who else is awake and would be messaging her at this time. Sausage maybe. Or Katherine needing a monster slaying buddy. It might be fWhip as well, considering he has no sense of time down in the caves. She has plenty of messages from him at ungodly hours to prove it, too.

“Gem he just messaged me!” Oli squeaks, turning her attention away from her own communicator. The bard has sat up in bed again, excitedly staring down at the device. There’s partially stars in his eyes as he reads over what Pix sent, hands vibrating with excitement. So much so Gem momentarily worries about him dropping the communicator.

“What’d he say!?” She asks, trying to peer over the screen. But Oli jerks the device closer to him as she does, frantically starting to type his response. From what she can see of the screen, Gem counts about five or six typos and accidental key smashes before he hits send, Oli’s face slowly turning beet red once more.

Oli practically squeals in excitement, whipping his head back towards her. He's adorable, acting like a teenager awkwardly talking to their first crush. “He wants to go to the festival with me, just the two of us! And I said yes!”

“Oli! You have a date!” Gem’s wings flare out behind her in glee, moving to tackle and hug him. The Festival of the Rift! Why hadn’t she thought of that! A festival was such a good, and adorable, first date spot! And Oli was hosting it! He couldn’t really mess anything up there! Oh Pix had such brilliant date ideas!

“I have a date!” Oli repeats, hugging her back. He makes sure not to drop the communicator. Hold onto the item like his life depends on it. And in his mind it probably does, since the only evidence of their date being real is in there. Gem won’t be surprised if he uses the messages to brag to a few of their friends, either.

Gem moves away with a smile, returning to her spot on the bed. She’s practically as excited as Oli is, and she doesn’t even have a date! He does! Her brother has a date!

“Wait, why is Pix up at five AM?” She asks, glancing at the clock. It had, somehow, only been about thirty minutes since Oli knocked on her door, and it was no lighter outside. Gem can’t say she’s surprised at Pix being up so early though, just curious. The archaeologist had a lot of weird habits, and doing mysterious things in the night was absolutely one of them.

“Because he sleeps even less than I do.” Oli says, eyes still glued to his communicator. He’s typing again, most likely sending a message to Pix. If the two of them aren’t at least flirting, Gem’s gonna be disappointed. And if they are flirting, she wants to see all their dumb pick up lines. And Oli’s bad, most likely very horrible attempts at being suave and a charmer. She definitely wants to see that.

“You already have two things in common then. Not sleeping and being weird.” Gem says. They really are perfect for each other then, if they’re both up so early. And, hey, maybe if they start dating, Oli will start bothering Pix with his four thirty in the morning problems, and finally let her get some sleep. That would be great.

“We’re a match made in heaven!” Oli giggles, and finally puts the communicator down. It seems the conversation has ended, but Oli’s excitement has not. He swings his legs off the bed, needing somewhere for all that extra energy to go. Gem can’t help but hold back a giggle as she watches him. He must really love Pix, to be so excited about this.

“Yeah, you are.” Gem agrees, and starts a new page in her notepad. One on how to be the best wing-woman the world has ever seen. Oli had wanted her boy advice, after all, and he’s gonna get the whole package.

[lean-mean-demon-genevieve]

More environmental virtue signaling from Gen today. She wants you to believe that 1.) magic fairies drop off these bags free of charge and evaporate your old sweaters into butterflies and 2.) that she actually gave away her designer jeans because she cares so much about saving the world.

Of course there’s a cost involved in these start-ups, this only makes sense. So you PAY for them to send you a bag to put your things into and then the return shipping is already paid for so long as it stays below a certain weight. There are several options but at minimum, one bag costs $14.50. A subscription option for 6 bags per year for $94 also exists. And that gets you access to their Rewards program.

But you won’t hear Gen mention any of that in her little ad or caption. Which is intentional.

While donating to your local charity shop is indeed free, there’s nothing saying that all or part of your donation doesn’t still end up in the trash. Especially if it’s rags already. They don’t pledge to resell, reuse, or recycle everything whereas Retold says this:

Clear as mud. Seriously, can someone translate that last sentence? Some of this sounds ok, but it also sounds like you’re paying them to use your textiles in their upcycling projects that they will continue to profit off of?

The Retold website also partners with several “sustainable” brands that you can purchase from their “Sustainable Store.” (Anyone else remember when Gen mentioned a storefront for the Towwn website?) And their rewards program goes something like this:

If you send them one scrap of cloth, they pledge to send you $15 in rewards but it doesn’t go back in your pocket like it says above. No, you get $15 worth of credit to spend on a bunch of brands you’ve never heard of. Here’s the link. I’ll wait for you to come back…

In case you’re not seeing it yet, the whole thing is a great big circle jerk of consumerism. It’s that image of the snake eating itself. Ain’t nothing for free. Especially not Gen and Towwn.

Here’s my point: Sustainability is a challenge. And I understand and appreciate anyone who wants to try to reduce their carbon footprint. But please stop treating this woman as if she is actually doing anything but patting herself on the back for profit.

If this bag still sounds like something you’d be willing to engage with, then that’s cool too. It’s not the worst trade off if you have the money to spare and if the textiles really do stay out of the landfill. I’m just here to be a good steward and to help you be an informed consumer. Per her branding for Towwn, Gen wouldn’t have it any other way. And whether you buy a bag or not, rest assured her check has already cleared.