#Fortune two sure predictions

[mycryptosuite]

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[court-jobi]

Meal Prep

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's works or the lovely art found here))

Pairing: Bakugo x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)

Words: 5k

Rating: M | 18+ (begone, minor extras- it's too spicy for you, Kacchan says so)

Warnings: hand-holding sexy times, first time!Bakugou/reader, food and commitment as a love language, FEELINGS, accidental quirk use, pet names, piv smut, established relationship, wrap it up, this is fantasy

Summary:

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together.  And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

A/N: It's spice, yall. Someone needs to rein their quirk in, and I'm not naming names (Katsuki Bakugou)

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

When Bakugou turned to his side -feeling the hand at his lower back- and went to lift you up on the counter for some kisses, something just... came over you. 

Your moves were tame at first- rubbing his chest and shoulders at the moment’s reprieve. Just giving yourself sweetly into it. Now with his hands on you, he got really hard really fast, and made some quip about you getting fresh between shared ravishments of love. 

Sure, you were biting at his lips longer than usual. Sure, you were hanging onto him in a manner far more codependent than you'd ever claim to be. By the look in his eye, he wasn't ever gonna be caught complaining, though. You’ve  been stared at and longed after across any room you're in just as wantonly, and he's the first to second your opinion when it matters. He calls you every night he's away for missions, and stays his need to sleep just to be able talk to you while your time zones are flip-flopped. 

Although, it was rather hungry of you to be so enamored by him today: where even the simplest conversation about the prices of strawberries going up made you fall slack into him. 

He asks what brought this on~ 

"Just love having you here,” you surmised, “I– like not doing these things alone." 

You’d made the economical offer to cook together and split the bills. Since your diets were fairly similar anyway, you might as well buy in bulk. He was in an indulgent headspace tonight, since he’d been laying on the pet names thick all day; this, his rare day off. Yours is tomorrow, but you were fortunate enough to get off at a decent hour to get the grocery shopping done early- with him. 

– only Bakugou enforced a strict habit of insisting on taking care of the receipt at the store, but never letting you settle up your half. The ‘slip of the mind’ he suffered from the first time was no longer an accident, but a routine.

Now, two stacks of four portioned meals each lay side by side prepped in the fridge. Some additional protein packs top your stash to keep on hand between long night drives; small and compact, they help fuel you mid-mission so you don’t have another repeat of a blood sugar drop while enroute with a squad of heavyweight heroes making a cross-city trek. Bakugou preferred to pick out treats as a surprise in those meal kits. Trivial as gift giving goes, but it offers some enrichment to your otherwise predictable menu. You haven’t seen what he’d snuck in the cart underneath that bag of string beans this time, and just saw their packed away presence in the fridge, teasing you.

But back at the sink where he’d begun to wash up, you ignored their mystery. Now, you just wanted to show him how much he was appreciated.

Yes, something switched in your brain: making meals together, sharing cleanup duties, counting these little moments as blessings and feeling like life’s weight wasn't all just on you put you in a mood. You both might not have necessarily gotten too fresh before today, but this wasn’t simply a domestic dance with lust.

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s sharp and fast to stop you from doing something stupid, and was the loudest voice in the room when your top 20 ranking was announced across the agency conference table. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together. 

And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you.

He wanted to show you he loved you; down to the grind of meal prepping on a Sunday night. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

Your adoring man nuzzles and talks to your neck, "Gettin' sappy again, angel."

He is down bad for you: no matter how sassy he makes the observation sound– that scratchy, rumble tone doesn’t help with your dizzying brain at all.

You offer up your neck a little, scratching along the base of his spine for full, soothing effect.

"Whass’wrong with that?" 

Bakugou simply purrs back happily.

"Cuz if you start saying shit like that, I'mma start sayin' shit. Shit I won't be able to stop spewing once I start."

"Maybe I don't want you to stop."

He senses your heart peeking through your words. Your eyes carry the message loud and clear, too, though they’re having a hard time staying open from the headrush. 

Lifting his heavy head, Bakugou studies you thoughtfully, before stepping into this soft side of yours.

"You don't want me to stop." 

Of course you don’t, so you shake your head.

"You want me to stay." 

Through a smile, you give your shy agreement. 

Even more vulnerable, Bakugou’s rare touch of a smile makes its appearance,

"You want me to stay forever? Make sure my lady's fed and happy?”

"Yes," you sink into him, happier than ever. 

"Looks like I'm staying then. Already made you dinner. Whaddya want me to do next?" 

"Hmm– kiss me?" 

Bakugou leans in to grant you your simple wish- but fully laps at your mouth instead. He means to entice, draw things out, make you want him that much more while giving himself nothing but torture at the same time. He’s used to making himself sweat; at least this was the fun simmer that didn’t burn.

The blonde moans low in his chest when you brush his cheek’s scar with your thumb. 

"Whaddya want, pretty girl,” Bakugou scoops you in close, memorizing this hot look of need you’re having right in the middle of chores, “What, y’want me to kiss you forever too?" 

Fixed on his lips -currently teased between his teeth- you give a rare curse that contrasted your sugar sweet demeanor, 

“Hell yes--" 

Kisses smash between you as sloppily as you want while he pulls you off the counter, over to the couch, and plops you on his lap, where you adjust to a squat over him and followed his persistent pull for you to sit. 

Pink lovemarks all over your neck, Bakugou’s rough attentions drive his hands to go just about anywhere he wants in a need-driven frenzy. Whether to warm you up or keep himself from perspiring too much? Who's to say.

Suddenly as he growled out his pleasure at your hips fitting up upon his lap, Bakugou fisted your  shirt in each palm– he tugs you deliciously tight as you kiss the daylights out of him.

Through his satisfied chuckles, he thought all was good until he started feeling some pops muffling in his hands. 

Bakugou knows what's coming– it's the speed of this onset that freaks him out-

His senses shout at him lightning quick, so it's a miracle that Bakugou immediately threw his hands out, shooting off hot sparks with palms out towards the coffee table- spooking you into a yelp. 

The panic settled just as soon as it came– you stared at each other after the round of pops stopped. 

Somehow, you were never afraid he’d ever sweat to the point of harming you, so you rolled with it as if he didn’t just almost blow you to bits. Must just be excited. 

Cheeky, you  thumbed to your bedroom before mimicking a Dynamight-style ‘stressball’ in your palm.

"Need your gloves?"

Bakugou rolled his eyes, "Fuck.... Fine."

As if a little coverage on his hands was going to be the end of the world. 

"I could make a condom joke instead, so be grateful!~" 

A pruned hand smacked your thigh in protest. “Har. Har.”

As you dismounted him (since you knew he was just gonna be pouty and sulk until he could touch you again), you pulled him up by his neckline so that he followed hungrily behind you and didn't cause a stink over it. In your room, you dug in his designated helmet for his gloves, which he roughly handled and donned while you rounded his strong set of shoulders and kissed him through it across the bits of skin you could reach.

"Can't believe I gotta put these fuckin’- things on- every time I get hot and fuckin' bothered-” 

"We'll figure that out, honey. Hey,” you pull him up to your sightline, “You still got me?”

Gloved but no less handsome as ever, Bakugou looks far too dazed to try his hand at driving your bike. Better he crash here, with you. He grabs you close; his answer.

“-- then there’s no complaints here. It’ll work; for now."

He moans kind of high and happy into your kisses on his mouth again. The sound ripples in you, coaxing more love out from your needy fingers and gentle kneading and soft layers that he’s mad he couldn't reciprocate anymore. He voiced this displeasure when he tugged up on your thighs and tipped you onto the bed. Setting a knee between your thighs and capturing a hand in his to pin you, Bakugou firmed up his brows, 

"Well, maybe I wanna feel you BACK, huh?"

"I get that, Katsu-honey~ we'll-- work on it. Learning curve." 

One thing the Hero World would be fast to assume about Katsuki Bakugou is that he'd take whatever he wanted from someone making eyes at him; that he'd be dominant and mean and addictive and that one might regret pushing his buttons in the bedroom, because it would be far too much. ‘Better not test him, he’d be too rough.’ But you hardly think this way, as you have him here:

Here, you look up to him, lovesick and shy, pulling him down because he feels too far away. And tempered as he is when he's in deep, Bakugou reads you and quickly responds in kind. He does kneel over and meets your lips, but freezes like steel as he tries to figure out how to be close but not crush you, despite your yanking for it.

"Katsuki~~"

"I'm not dropping ninety-five kilos a’ dead weight on you, dummy,” he chortled, “Not gonna happen."

"But I want you~~"

"Oh, you want me, huh? Needy girl..." Pets caressing down your cheek, you cup your Katsuki’s arm instead as it trails gingerly down the neck, stopping at your collar, until you force it down its path more towards your chest, and lower. 

His touch carries very little pressure. Rather, you see him just watching his own movements in a haze- "Pretty, pretty girl."

A thought crosses your mind and you feel confident; if you voice it, he’ll answer you honestly. 

"Have you never dated anyone before, ‘Dynamight’?"

Without an immediate defense, you're happy to see he’s still letting you guide his hand to slide under your shirt collar and sift along your bra line. 

Unphased, he answers a gentle -but surprising- ‘no’.

"No high school crushes?" you press, flattered.

"Tch, I went to UA. When would I have had time for that?" Bakugou slides your strap and shirt more to the side as he explores, then kisses the shoulder.

Breathy, you challenge after your happy hums. “Kirishima did..."

He only gave a bemused scoff.

“And look where that got him. Is he anywhere close to being #1?" asks the #5 ranked Pro Hero.

"No,"

Bakugou’s gloved palms have successfully reached your breasts, pulling the rest up and off with confidence now, eyeing over your skin deliciously. 

"Guess who is?"

"Y-you~"

"Damn right." Bakugou licks and teases around the space your nipple would lie under the cup, "And y’know how I did it?"

Sights locked onto him, pulling other side down to sift your underclothes up to his gloved hand's touch.

"I'm a fast learner. That's how you get to be the best. Learn fast, do it right. Gets you results at the top of the board. I'm damn good at learning something I want; 'specially when that something's you."

You can’t keep quiet now. Not at this, your forever favorite Pro Hero undressing you with eyes and hands, 

"Ugh God..."

His hands pawed at every bit of you.

"Name's Katsuki, Angel Eyes. But I'll answer to that if you want~"

Your sexy laugh turned to a moan as he sucked hard at your neck to please you, then worked on getting himself fully topless to match. Once laid back with a delightful little jiggle of everything wonderful, Bakugo's sight lay fixed on you, hands running everywhere he could reach now. 

For once, he looked a little scattered, unsure what to do next besides pet you and breathe.

You teased a leg up his, and tried prying his hard shell open again, "There's no wrong way to play, y'know~"

"Heh?"

"You look like you're working-" you rubbed your own tits, a handful each, "-trying to figure out your next move. But really, there's no bad option. It's just me."

Understanding, he nodded, but still looked conflicted.

"And I don't bite, promise~" you tried for levity, finally making him chuckle a little and bring life to his smirk.

"Y'might as well, looking at me like that."

"What, this?" you kneaded and pushed your tits together.

"Fuck, me..."

"S'what I'm saying."

Then in a sweet move, Bakugou pulls you up to cradle you by your jawline and kisses you lovingly, then holds your foreheads in place while he takes a couple practiced inhales. 

Beneath you, you see how excited he is, but also how tense his core has become. It ever so barely trembles.

A muted string of a confession leaves him, 

"I talk big shit... but... never done this part." –this part being sex, you now gather- "Sue me if I'm tryna do right by you. I- feels like my heart's literally goin’ a mile a minute here, what the hell..."

"Mine too~" you run a soothing drag of your nails up his arms before smoothing up and over to his waist, "You are doing right by me, though~ just go with what feels right. I just want you, Kats."

"Yeah?"

"I want you,” you assure him with charged-up love and desire for him, “-so bad."

That was seemingly all he needed to clear his head because he fell right down to you, crawling beside you and scooping you up into his arms where he could trail his hand all up the expanse of your back. Somewhere in there, he slipped off your pants and took the chance to feel all up and down your legs with greedy chuckles.

He'd moan what a gorgeous sight and gentle thing you were, his mouth leaving no limb untouched or unpraised. He's also high on the attention you gave him right back, especially when you tipped him onto his back and kissed along the lines of his chest. Bruises and dips mark up his otherwise perfect skin, but you're pleased to have your Katsuki enjoying this if his sighs are any indication of his arousal. 

Bakugou quirks a brow as he settles back, preparing for you to mount and have your way with him. Consent is king and he doesn't wanna force you to be in a position you don't want.

“Y’want me here?” he asks with hands supporting your waist. “Show me how it's done?”

The sight below you has you ready to pass out on the spot. He’s handsome and horny and all yours.

"Ready when you are~" 

The line between Dynamight and the man behind the title is blurred as he settles into a cocky smirk. He's proud and never one to shy away from attention- not even this, so it seems. 

Bakugou chips his chin up at you with his full support. 

"Atta girl~" 

You whimper when you grind on top of him at first: not simply at how hot the first pass is for you after so long, but how wrecked Bakugou looks as he exhales with force. It's an effort to will himself still, and you love the look of it on him. 

Pride surges in you as you sway yourself over him, checking him over and making sure he's comfortable. 

“You got me?”

His sights open again, to you in all your glory. Any edge he carries in his waking hours is gone as he's let comfort and ease take the wheel over his nervous system. 

Bakugou is pretty damn adorable this way, but you'd only ever say so when he's fully confident- not out on a limb trying something this new with you for the first time. Here, you'd build up his confidence and see how he rises to the challenge. But you’ll go slow, above all else.

Fingers find renewed life as he squeezes you,

“I got you,” he says in wonder, getting there, “I gotcha." 

But right before you lifted up to let him shove his waistline down, he stopped you from sitting with a hard hand at your tummy. In a quick switch, he's cursing nervously about needing to wrap it up. 

Before he could toss you off, you brought his face back to you with a tender hand, keeping him from getting up altogether and bolting for his bag slung somewhere in the kitchen. 

"I'm covered on that front, hon,” you stifle any laughing at his earnest pursuit, “Planned a bit ahead- got in with the nurse a few months back."

Bakugou stills, but then his confusion and concern give way to something deeper. He’s looking at you, awed. 

"You're on it-?"

"Mhm. I'm all set, baby. There's no one else, just– just you. I won't stop ya if you'd feel better with one on, just wanted you to know. " 

Fondness for the hero-turned-friend-turned-lover made you rake your fingers through that mess of blond hair you daydream of petting and bringing out a groan from him all by yourself, 

"However you want me: inside or out~"

Recognition heats him up more, "You sexy, fuckin' girl..."

Catching you back in his arms, Bakugou falls in love all over again. He’s sinking into you sideways, hiking your leg up and over his hip and just holding you close– your man is all in for this the moment he's submerged in you.

"FUUUUUuuuuuck yehehehess…”

You're overwhelmed and giddy and full, and find that it's not just you who's laughing by the time you make eye contact. It's thrilling and perfect that you're here -doing it- and you’re obsessed with how close you two are in this moment that it makes your relief palpable and light-hearted. 

After heated kisses to get him to actually start moving, you're turning every laugh into a love-filled moan: a sound that Bakugo chases with everything in him. 

Eventually the momentum is like a run, fueling him with the more he hears, and is soon tipping you back to settle on top himself-- in charge and letting you take backseat. By how you gawk up at the show of strength, it’s more than alright with you~

"Oh my God, yes sir!!" you squeal seeing him in charge.

"Yeah? Like this, pretty girl?” Bakugou is in his element, despite having just joined the party moments ago, “Y’like your ‘Backpack’ on top, makin sure you don't move a fuckin’ muscle?"

Each huff and moan he makes glues your sights to the spot- head dipping to where you are slamming together, which only makes him ramp it up even more to give you a show.

‘Yeah yeah yeah-- oh FUCK, why haven't I gotten my head out of my ass sooner, you are FUCKING incredible!--’

The sounds Bakugou’s making are passionate and raw, even more so as you're close and you tell him so through near tears. You’re about to cum, embarrassingly fast for you- but then why wouldn't you when the sight of the love of your life is rocking your world off its hinges and sending you into the best headspin?

"Do it baby, do it do it do it~" he growls the freedom deliciously to you– so you will your hand to let go of the comforter and start rubbing your clit wildly to get you over the edge, till you're bucking up and siezing through relieved sobs. 

Bakugou almost damn near chokes on his own shock at the feel, yet only slows a little bit while he holds you down, holds you through it. Once you’re reaching up for his shoulders again -your cue that you're ok and settled - he dives down to your level for some hard kisses as a reward.

Somehow he breaks from the haze of you deliriously giggling for him soon enough, gasping out  desperate lines that nearly made your heart explode– all while going right back to fighting like mad to go over the edge like you did.

“Fuck, I love you.. fuck, I love you, fuck fuck fuck–”

The closer he gets, the hand pinning yours to the bed starts to burn– which takes your attention.

From watching him fuck you to check your joined wrists is more urgent: Bakugou’s forearm is trembling and visibly sweating all down to the cuff absorbing the rest.

Pretty much sobered you right up by the incoming pain, you're surprised, but you fake it in your bliss and rush him along anyway, until he cries out and shudders into your neck as he finishes– kissing it lightly in thanks muttering all sorts of nonsense you couldn't make out once he sinks onto you- spent.

“Fun, right baby?”

Bakugou’s grunting at every little move of his body.

“S’... M’dizzy,” he rasps, “S’it always dizzy?”

Under a spell yourself, unearth some spare sass n’ sweetness from your back pocket, 

“When it's good,” you give your valid opinion, your free hand making your mark along his arm to settle him down, “when they listen to what you need, n’ when they can provide- even before any clothes come off. I find it best that way, that is…”

Bakugou’s head lolls to the side, pressing a kiss to the tender space just in front of your ear.

“That it is…”

Your palm is pulsing. Hot. But still, you let him find rest, wondering more if he was ok since he was never EVER this gushy, but as his release turned into relieved laughs, Bakugou bridged over you to blow your hair back with a playful gust of his lips and gave you some more indulgent kisses. Sweet as ever, you kissed him back and pressed into his thumb working over your still joined hands.

"You like me~" you taunted.

"huh?~~”

"Y’said you loved me..."

Katsuki giggled, "Shuddup, dummy."

This prompted your tug to free your hand again, hissing when he released and revealed your palm: tinged with an onset of a blister, splotchy with heat–

"THE FUCK??!!” Bakugou noticed the damage himself, “DAMMIT, why didn't you SAY I was cooking you alive??" 

At his apology ridden eyes, you didn't want this hiccup to stall the moment you'd just shared. Flexing each of your hands easily, you shook off any look of pain and beamed up at him instead. 

"You weren't! It just got a lil hot~" he looked at your face again, confused as to why you're not upset at his repeat offense, "BBQ, amiright?" 

Your no-longer sweetheart growls down at you, textbook Bakugou BiteTM.  "NOT. funny." 

You laughed at the nature of it all. 

"I'm ok, baby. Whew... Oh my God~"

Your relief is something fuzzy and delighted to you, but knowing how your darling Katsuki gets in his own head about how fiery his quirk can be, you give him a little wink to quell any fears. 

It works, as your assurances always do. He admires your sated bones and lays another sloppy smooch on you. A silent promise; he’ll take a look at your hand in a bit. 

In moving up your body to reach his shirt to wipe himself with, he slipped out, still hot and heavy (given that he came already) and undeniably turned on- even in this state. You cringed at the mess hitting the cooler air. Hearing your complaint, Bakugou pecked your cheek and nuzzled you back adoringly. 

"Love you, angel.”

"I love you too~" your easy reply passes your lips wistfully.

A dry ache in his chest, he made to rise and see about getting you two a little more comfortable, feeling that same wetness too and grumbled about washing his damn hands, but you stopped him with a little whine.

"Stay~~" 

Crimson eyes softening to yours, the boyish charm returns to Bakugou’s otherwise stoic demeanor. It's a sign he’s clearly plagued in an afterglow buzz.

"Cmon, lemme clean us up. I need the fan on." 

Even colder? Darn his body temp. "Nnng.." 

He gets up anyway, but promises his return with a chip to your chin, "I'll stay, gorgeous. Told you so. I'll stay as long as you want tonight." 

When he came back with the wet washcloth, he coaxed you to stand on your own and go take care of yourself, too. The top sheet is changed and re-tucked in before you got back– mismatched from what remained on the bed before, but you didn't really care. 

He’s made himself comfortable in the bed, only slipping on his boxers you can barely catch the edge of from the sheet in his lap. It’s only made you fold all over again- proof that your boyfriend knows where you keep your spare sheets in the first place. 

You slipped on a fresh pair of panties in your pit stop, but went hunting for your loose shirt again, not bothering with anything under. This got Bakugo's attention seems,

"What, you cold?"

"Little bit~"

"M’over here, then," he patted his chest, you joined him, only to have him sneak his arm under your shirt and tease your tits again, "Don't see why you need this shitty thing while I'm around, just gettin' in my way.."

Giggling and sinking into him, you couldn't fault him. He did have to stay gloved for so long earlier. You laid a kiss straight on his cheek while he had his fill of you.

"Happy girl?" he sings down to you.

Happy girl indeed. "Mhm~ Happy Murder God?"

"Heh-yeah,” Bakugou schooled his breaths to sync to you, “I could get used to this."

"We'll figure out the glove thing."

"...M'sorry for almost toasting you.”

“Eh- I can handle a little snap-crackle-pop.”

Bakugou snorts, tapping out the jingle beat for ‘rice crispies’ on your shoulder. All's forgiven on that front. 

“Really shoulda thrown those in the washer," he grimaced above you, looking over at the door where he set them back with his riding gear. 

"We'll get it later," You snuggled down in his arms, happy to take his leftover heat. “Washer’s all yours~”

"Yeah. Yours is better than mine anyway,” Bakugou leans his head fully back onto your propped up pillows. A contented sigh forces the rest of his muscles to lax. “--piece of crap rattles like it's about to blow up. Yer dishwasher’s better too.”

As he chatters away, he played with the ends of your hair absently. 

“I thought you were my dishwasher?”

Bakugou pauses his twirls, “Oi, I never said I was signing up for that! I was bein’ nice.”

“Yes, you were~” you kissed his neck to force his rising growl down. Works every time. You're back to snuggling in his arms with a contented sigh. “I’ll do them next time.”

“If you’re fast enough, slowpoke, then sure.”

You can barely make out your washer thrumming in the next room as well as the even more distant smooth jazz channel streaming from the living room, but remembered your earlier mindset and just hugged him tighter.

This, you'd certainly miss when he went home tonight. Feeling this close, this warm together, having shared something really special and intimate that you couldn't take back for the life of you. It might make things even worse when it comes to your attachment to him– you two are pushing it at the agency with minimal touches unless there's something really scary that forces his walls down in order to comfort you- or vice versa. After all, your affinity for one another is no one’s business but your own… but you typically are satisfied by his more public ties to you in all the ways that matter- mostly to others in your circle and strangers who he threatens to kick if they keep starin’ at you.

But here, Katsuki holding you is second nature. His true nature. He tells you he cares with every returned text, knowing look, and tender touch he keeps limited in shared company- with you as the sole recipient. 

You can only wish this could be your life everyday. Where you can maybe even start your own agency down the line somewhere; Japan’s first true power couple who can take names like none other. Launch yourselves higher and higher, work yourselves out of a job, and take a retirement in whatever way looks best for you–

When you get quiet in your thoughts, he even knows your 'hiding' tell. Your pillow tilts down to try and get your attention, finally demanding your eyes with a question laced with clear thinking,

"You meant stay stay,” Bakugou asked gently, “-didn't you. Not just- for the night.” 

You softened… nodding ever so much. Leaving room, in case he didn't agree.

What you wouldn't give for him to be your meal prep partner till you both retire from hero work- and then some.

Either nothing went through his mind, or one singular anthem bounced around in there, because all Bakugou did to your little melting expression was kiss you softly, turning you back into the bed, and flopping solidly on top of your chest.

"...gimme 30 minutes. Then let's go get my shit. I call the front room work table."

You're over the moon, and your jaw drops on its own. He’s so ready- barely even thought it through! Or maybe… he was always thinking of it, and was waiting on you.

With that excitement flooding you, you peppered his hair full of kisses until he groaned for you to stop– only after the first ten...

[icyg4l]

PAC: June 2024 Predictions

Hello beautiful people! Continuing on with my summer 2024, I am kicking off this upcoming June with predictions! I look forward to posting more content relating to this topic and many others. I also want to say that tomorrow, I will be having a Five Dollar Friday Sale so if you would like to receive a reading for a lower price, tomorrow is the day to do so! Without further ado, please choose the image that resonates with you!

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile One: This pile is definitely geared towards femmes of the African diaspora. I feel like you will be more knowledgeable about your culture. You will take more pride in your identity this month. Happy Juneteenth in advance <3! I also feel like this month will be perfect for you to brush up on skills like crocheting, quilt making, jewelry making or sewing. I see that you’re a versatile person who has many sides so do not be afraid to show them. I feel like this month you will be rewarded with recognition due to your connections with women. If you are someone who struggles when it comes to intimacy with women, do not fear what can work for you. This month is crucial for you. I feel like you need to be paying close attention to cameras. People will be videoing you and taking pictures of you heavy this month. You might even go viral. People will also be more generous towards you this month. You may even notice people being more flirtatious with you, offering to pay for your drinks/food, etc. Some of you are going to be traveling down South, specifically Mississippi, Alabama and Georgia. If you have a sexual partner, you will get into an argument with them about something trivial. It will be blown out of proportion but I will say this. There is a reason why you feel the way you feel about them right now. Your gut never lies, love. And lastly, you may get invited to a surplus of dinner dates, picnic dates and family friendly places like Top Golf, Dave N Busters, etc. And be sure to keep your spiritual protection up!

Cards Used: Wheel of Fortune, 7 of Cups, 6 of Cups, 8 of Wands (RX), 5 of Wands, The Star, The Empress, Judgment, King of Wands.

extras: buying hair picks. reaching a fruit tree. jamaican flag. acorns. nature lover. egyptian goddess. play for keeps. buckaroos. monkey island.

Pile Two: Who lit a fire under your ass, Pile Two? I feel like this month will be about spoiling yourself and letting people know that you are not to be played with. It feels like you are finally standing up for yourself after being punked for so long. Think of this time as charging up and gaining your power. This is the era of reclaiming your power. You are going to be realizing your worth and it will feel so good. A lot of you guys are newly single and now you feel spiritually lighter. The weight of your past relationship turned you into someone you weren’t. Healing is not a linear journey so you need to be as patient with yourself as possible. Some of you will be taking up a pottery class, will start pole dancing or start gardening to help you cope with your situation. You are more in control of your situation than you think. It’s time to want better for yourself and to do better for yourself. Out with the old, in with the new is what I heard. If you’ve been talking about starting up a business or starting up a podcast, then get on it! Type up that business plan and brainstorm some topics to talk about (preferably some unrelenting to splitting the bill or the criteria of being a feminine). This month, you could also do some traveling. It could be in the Northern parts of the U.S. or even in the Caribbean. I feel like your main focus will definitely be getting rid of the dead weight though. Clearing up your face, cleaning up your diet, physically cleaning your room, all of that. Just do it!

Cards Used: 5 of Discs, King of Swords, Queen of Swords, Knight of Discs, 6 of Swords, Temperance, 9 of Discs, The Fool

extras: revenge body. health nut. being more strict. podcast listener. kendrick lamar fan. maracas. greece. puerto rico. haitian. fixing insecurities.

Pile Three: You guys are definitely under 5’4”, lol. I feel like you could be an aspiring model or dancer. You could even be an aspiring rapper. I feel like you guys have a resting bitch face and because of it a lot of people accuse you of being mean when you really aren’t. This month, you could find yourself trying to overcompensate for that, lol! You may find yourself doing yard work for your neighbors, putting up flyers for someone’s local business, taking out someone’s trash, moving someone’s car for them, picking up your s/o’s sibling/mother up from work/school. I also see you guys purchasing a new wig with color in it or a pair of Lady Gaga-esque heels from Poshmark or Depop. You guys have a gothic sense of style. During the month of June, you will definitely be partying with the gays (probably only on the weekends though depending on your schedule). Happy Pride Month <3! I think that you guys will be doing things that will get you out of your comfort zone, specifically going out at night. The nightlife will be calling your name, dear. You will be bombarded with attention when this does happen. You are socially awkward but it’s okay, they won’t bite. The environments where you’ll be at will be filled with welcoming characters that make you feel safe. I feel like some of you will be trading services with another business owner (i.e., hairstyle for nail set, reading for reading, etc). Lastly, you guys need to go to karaoke bars, gay bars, go bar diving! Your self-esteem will go up, lol!

Cards Used: The Hermit, King of Cups, 7 of Cups, The Star, 2 of Swords (RX), Strength, 6 of Wands, The Tower.

extras: studded heels. drunk selfies. smoked out eyeliner. dragged. tea. money-hungry. marge simpson. katniss everdeen. facts about the royal kingdom.

Pile Four: This month will mark a special meeting between you and another person. A lot of you guys will be attending a wedding ceremony during this month, if you’re not already getting married. If you are getting married, just know that the stress is worth it dear. The ceremony will go great. But for the single folks, I feel like guys have been having a bad streak when it comes to dating/love. This will change at the wedding reception/ceremony. You will either meet someone who is exactly your type or you will catch the bouquet. I see that this person is tall, bright-eyed and very charming. This person will change your perspective on life. Outside of love, I feel like you guys will be working at some type of charity event. If you work somewhere with children involved, you will be assigned as the leader for the big task. You will handle it well. You could be in your 9H profection year or you could just be looking for your purpose in life. I feel like you will expand on your beliefs. You will visit different places of faith, travel to different neighborhoods and try new foods just to get a new perspective. I also think you will listen to music of different genres more often, specifically music with an island feel to it. If you have a science test coming up, you will pass it. And lastly, I feel like by the end of the month you will be on vacation. Whatever is going on at work will make you want to take a break. I see someone drinking RedBull to get through the day. I am also channeling the movie ‘The Last Holiday’. You should watch it! There is more to life than just working. You have some exploring to do, friend.

Cards Used: 9 of Wands, Temperance, 3 of Wands, The Hierophant, Queen of Cups, 3 of Discs.

extras: moonwalk. euphoria. small fry. tupperware. black lives matter. sagittarius placements. jupiter heavy. buoyancy. shameless (2011).

[koiiiji]

lookism x teaching them your language

author’s note ; someone here is specially for @imtomiee 💋 also correct me if i used some words wrong way!!

tw ; swearing words on different languages! fluff

GOO KIM — RUSSIAN

evening air was cool, but the vibe in the room was anything but. you were lounging on the couch with Goo, your legs tangled together in a comfortable mess, a playful banter going back and forth as it often did when the two of you were together. Goo, ever the curious one, had recently taken an interest in learning a few words from your native language—russian.

of course, knowing Goo, it wasn’t the polite phrases he wanted to learn.

“so, what’s the next one?” Goo asked, his signature smirk plastered on his face as he leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. you raised an eyebrow, thinking for a moment before deciding to go all in. “alright - alright, how about this one — poshel nahui.”

Goo’s eyes widened slightly, intrigued by the sound of the words. he tried repeating it, stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables. “po…poshel nahui?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt. “gosh, babe, you’re doing such a great job,” you teased, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “you sure you don’t know russian? or maybe in a previous life been russian?”

Goo’s grin widened, clearly pleased with your praise. “really? what does it mean?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. you tilted your head, giving him a sly smile. “it’s like… sending someone on the dick.”

Goo’s eyes lit up with amusement, and he laughed, the sound rich and warm in the small space. “but i don’t want anyone else except you on my dick!” he declared, his tone both playful and his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. you rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him away, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “it’s not necessarily yours, hun,” you quipped, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “you can send them on Gun’s dick.”

the smirk that spread across Goo’s face was devilish, and he let out a low chuckle, clearly entertained by the idea. “oh, i’m definitely using that one,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in to capture your lips in a brief, but heated kiss.

PARK JUNGUN — ARABIC

you and Jungun were lounging on the couch, both scrolling through delivery apps, the familiar debate simmering just below the surface.

“how about we order Italian tonight?” you suggested, your mouth watering at the thought of creamy risotto and cheesy pizza. Jungun’s eyebrows shot up, and he leaned back with a sly grin. “italian? seriously? we just had that last week. i want sushi,” he declared, his tone dripping with playful arrogance.

you crossed your arms, feeling a familiar annoyance bubble up. “but sushi is so… predictable! italian has variety, flavor, and soul! plus, you can’t deny that a good lasagna is perfect comfort food.”

he chuckled, shaking his head dismissively. “comfort food? you mean your heavy, cheesy dishes that weigh you down? sushi is light and refreshing. it’s an experience, not just a meal.”

“an experience that costs a fortune! at least with Italian, you get value for your money. you can’t tell me sushi is worth the price when half of it is just rice!” you could feel your cheeks flush, but you refused to back down. “rice is the foundation of life! and sushi is an art form — i can’t believe you’re comparing it to some pasta dish,” he shot back, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “you’re just being stubborn because you can’t appreciate the finer things.”

“finer things? like overpriced fish that’s raw? you’re just being defensive because you’re japanese!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “admit it, you’re biased!”

“bias? me? i just have better taste!” he retorted, a smirk plastered on his face. “you’ll come around one day; i’ll make sure of it.”

“yeah, right! you’re impossible!” you rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. “you’re like a child throwing a tantrum over his favorite toy.”

“child? at least i know what i want, unlike you, who can’t make up her mind!” he shot back, leaning closer, his arrogance palpable.“make up my mind? this is about you being stubborn! you’ll never admit when you’re wrong!” you felt your heart race, both from the argument and the undeniable chemistry between you. he leaned back, arms crossed, a smug look on his face. “and you’ll be the one begging for sushi sooner or later. just wait.”

“okay, how about a compromise?” you proposed, trying to mediate the escalating tension. “let’s do Italian tonight, and sushi tomorrow. you’ll still get your fix!”

for a moment Gun pretended to ponder. “hmm, let me think… nope! i’m not settling for anything less than sushi tonight.” you sighed dramatically, an amused smile creeping onto your lips. “you’re the absolute worst, you know that?”

“stubborn? no, i’m just determined,” Gun replied, his arrogance unwavering. after a few more rounds of playful banter, you finally relented, knowing how stubborn he could be. “fine! we’ll have sushi tonight, but only because i can’t deal with your arrogance any longer.”

“yeah, that’s right” he exclaimed triumphantly, pulling out his phone to place the order.

as the two of you settled back on the couch, the tension dissolved, and a comfortable silence fell between you, you found yourself leaning against him, his warmth comforting. you felt a rush of affection and couldn’t help but murmur into his shoulder, “ya5rab baito sho habito” Jungun pulled back slightly, a confused look on his face. “bitch, tf you just said?”

with a calm smile, you leaned your head against his shoulder and whispered, “literal translation: may your house get ruined i love you.”

he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re impossible!” but he tightened his embrace around you, pulling you closer.

“sometimes, you can be so stubborn,” you teased, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eye.

“and yet, you love me for it,” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. “of course i do,” you shot back, your heart full as you nestled deeper into his warmth.

JIN HOBIN — GERMAN

it was just another chaotic day at school, the halls buzzing with the usual chatter of students. Hobin strode through the corridors, his presence commanding attention. he was used to the whispers and glances, but today, something else caught his eye.

in a quiet corner, you sat on a bench, phone pressed to your ear, animatedly talking to a friend. as you hung up, Hobin approached, curiosity piqued. “hey, what were you talking about?”

you looked up, slightly flustered. “just my friend. nothing important.” he smirked, leaning against the wall. “you speak german, huh?”

“yeah,” you replied, trying to downplay it.

“cool. can you teach me some swear words?” he asked, his tone teasing. you shrugged, playing along. “sure. like ‘Verdammtes Miststück.’” [fair-DAM-tes MIST-shtook]

Hobin raised an eyebrow. “what does that mean?”

“it means ‘damn jerk,’” you explained, a small smile creeping onto your face. “damn, that’s spicy,” he laughed. “i might have to start using that.”

just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. you stood up, ready to head to class. but as you walked away, something clicked in Hobin’s mind. he suddenly remembered that phrase — that phrase. the memories flooded back, taking him by surprise.

“wait!” he yelled, sprinting after you. “bitch, you called ME that name??” you turned around, feigning innocence. “what? i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“don’t play dumb! you always called me that when we were enemies!” his voice was a mix of disbelief and playful frustration. “you used it all the time!”

you shrugged, trying to suppress a grin. “i really don’t remember.”

“seriously?” he exclaimed, a smirk forming on his lips. “you were always throwing that word around at me! you can’t just forget that!”

“maybe i just didn’t like you,” you shot back, trying to keep a straight face.

“come on! admit it!” Hobin insisted, laughter bubbling up despite himself. “admit what?” you teased, enjoying the banter. “that i cursed at my rival? sounds a bit dramatic.”

“dramatic? you were practically a german swearing machine!” he laughed, shaking his head. “i can’t believe i’m just now connecting the dots.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his animated reaction, feeling a thrill at the memories of your rivalry. “well, maybe i did. but you know what? it’s not like I’m going to do it again.”

Hobin stepped closer, his expression playful yet intense. “oh, I’m counting on it. you’re just too fun to mess with.”

with that, he gave you a wink and turned to leave, a confident swagger in his step. you watched him go, heart racing. it was strange how easily the tension from those rivalry days transformed into something more intriguing, something that hinted at new beginnings. as you walked to class, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this playful back-and-forth was just the start of something.

RYOHEI KURODA — ENGLISH

you were curled up on the couch, engrossed in your book, when your adorably clueless boyfriend, flopped down beside you with a dramatic sigh.

“y/n! teach me english!” he whined, resting his head on your shoulder. you sighed, trying to focus on your reading. “Ryohei, we’ve been at this for hours. you need to practice more!”

“but i want to learn from you! you’re the best teacher!” he clung to your arm, his eyes wide and pleading.

after 5 minutes of him being annoying you finally, you gave in, exasperated but amused. “alright, fine! but i’m teaching you something cool.” you leaned closer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “say ‘bastard.’ it’s a fun word!”

“bas-tard,” he repeated like a child who just reached to something that was once forbidden, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“good! just don’t overdo it, okay?” you warned, chuckling.

later that day, Ryohei strolled into work, his confidence soaring. he spotted Eugene, who was busy with paperwork. with playful boldness, Ryohei called out, “hey, you bastard!”

Eugene blinked, stunned, while Ryohei burst into laughter, clearly unfazed by the shocked expression on his boss's face.

you could only imagine the chaos that would ensue. mortified yet secretly amused, you buried your face in your hands. Ryohei might be a handful, but he sure knew how to make life interesting — and you loved him for it.

bonus ; later that day Ryohei was feeling bold again. he spotted Kenta and, with a playful grin, shouted, “bastard!”

Kenta’s expression dropped, and he looked genuinely upset. “Ryohei, that’s not cool,” he said quietly. Ryohei’s smile faded as he felt a pang of guilt, especially since Kenta was usually so quiet. Ryohei took a deep breath and approached him.

“Magami, what’s wrong?” he asked, his tone sincere.

Kenta shrugged, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just... i know english better than you, and it was disrespectful.”

Ryohei’s heart sank at his words. “brooo wdym im really sorry. i didn’t mean to upset you,” he whined, shaking Kenta’s shoulder.you stepped in, sensing the tension. “how about we all go get milkshakes? it’ll be on me..”

SEO SEONGEUN — POLISH

smooth purr of Seongeun’s Rolls-Royce filled the quiet atmosphere as he drove through the city, one hand casually resting on the steering wheel while the other hung over the gear shift. you sat beside him, gazing out the window, trying to keep yourself occupied while Seongeun focused on the road. you had been living in Korea for a while now, and while your korean was pretty good, there were still moments where your native polish slipped out, especially when you were irritated or frustrated.

however, it had been one of those days, and your mood was already on edge. the final straw was when your phone buzzed with an annoying notification about the broken coffee machine back at home. you groaned, rubbing your temples in frustration as the stream of oolish curses tumbled from your lips.

“ja pierdolę...” you muttered, trying not to dwell on your frustration.

without taking his eyes off the road, Seongeun raised an eyebrow, his tone casual but curious. “what do you mean babe?”

you blinked, glancing over at him. “what?”

he briefly glanced at you with a smirk before focusing back on the road. “the stuff you always mumble when you're annoyed. you’ve been doing it for weeks, and I don’t get it.”

you flushed a little, realizing he’d been picking up on your muttered polish rants this whole time. “oh! that... yeah, i tend to mutter in polish when i’m emotional. it’s like a habit.”

Seongeun’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, but there was an amused glint in his eye. “and what exactly are you saying?” a small smile tugged at your lips. “you wanna learn some polish, babe?” you teased, poking his arm. he scoffed lightly but couldn’t hide his smirk. “i’m just curious. what do you say when you’re pissed?”

you hesitated, suddenly feeling shy about explaining. “well... i usually say ‘ja pierdolę’ or ‘kurwa mać.’” your cheeks flushed deeper as you tried to explain. “the first one means ‘fuck it,’ like when something goes wrong. and the second one… um... direct translation means... uh... ‘fuck your mother.’” you winced slightly, knowing how it sounded out of context.

Seongeun let out a low laugh, shaking his head “yeah, fuck that bitch. so what about the translation?”

you chuckled softly, your hand covering your mouth as you tried to find the words. “baby, i just told you! it doesn’t mean that literally. it’s more like saying ‘FUCK IT!!’ but with extra aggression.”

Seongeun laughed again, his deep voice rumbling through the car as he reached over to squeeze your knee affectionately. “gotcha, babe. polish frustrations... i get it.”

just as you relaxed, a mischievous glint appeared in Seongeun’s eyes. “so, what’s the deal with that beaver stuff? do you guys have beef with beavers or something? how do you say it? bo-bober? bober kurva?”

you stared at him for a moment, utterly blindsided by his sudden question. then, it hit you, and you couldn’t help but let out a snicker. your heart swelled with pride at his attempt.

“babe...” You blinked dramatically, pretending to wipe away proud slavic tear. “you’re trying to get it right. i’m so proud of you!”

he smirked, his gaze still fixed on the road, though you could see the amusement dancing in his eyes. “whatever makes you happy, baby. but seriously, tell me more about this beaver meme.”

[cosmerelists]

Travel Games that Kaladin and Szeth Should Play on their Big Field Trip

Very serious predictions for Wind and Truth. >.>

1. "I Spy"

In this game, one person tries to guess something that the other person can see based only on its color.

Kaladin: I spy, with my little eye...something white. Szeth: Is it the sheep? Kaladin: Oh, is that what the hairy axehound things are? No. Szeth: Is it...the clouds? Kaladin: No. Szeth: Is it the white part of your collar? Kaladin: No, but it IS something on one of us. Szeth: ... Szeth: Is it my bald head? Kaladin: Yes, good job! Szeth: ... Kaladin: What?

2. "Rock, Rockbud, Chasmfiend"

It's like our "Rock, Paper, Scissors." Rockbud can crack rock, Chasmfiend can eat rockbud, and rock can kill chasmfiend. I'm pretty sure I got the ecology correct.

Szeth: One, two, three...chasmfiend! Kaladin: Storms! I chose rockbud. Szeth: One, two, three...rockbud! Kaladin: Storms! I chose rock. Szeth: One, two, three...rockbud! Kaladin: Gah! I tried rock again! Kaladin: How are you so freakishly good at this?? Szeth: I am a master of human psychology. Kaladin: ...you are? Szeth: [shrugs]

3. "Never Have I Ever"

A game in which you name things you have not done, and the other person must admit if they have.

Kaladin: Never have I ever accepted a Shardblade that's been offered to me. Szeth: I have. Nightblood: Yeah! Me! Szeth: Never have I ever learned the name of my spren. Kaladin: I...have. You don't know your spren's name? Szeth: He is shy.

4. Twenty Questions

A game in which you have to figure out what person, place, or thing the other person has in mind using only 20 yes/no questions.

Szeth: I am thinking of a person. Kaladin: Is it Dalinar? Szeth: ... Szeth: How did you know? Kaladin: I get the vibe that you are thinking about Dalinar 120% of the time. Szeth: You too are a master of human psychology. Kaladin: Sure, let's go with that.

5. "Two Truths and a Lie"

In this game, you say three statements about yourself, two of them true and one of them false. The other person has to guess the lie.

Szeth: I am very good at ice skating, I used to have a pet sheep named Sweep, and I have killed kings at dinner parties more than once. Kaladin: Please tell me the sheep thing is true. Szeth: You are required to guess. Kaladin: Uh...is it a lie that you are good at ice skating? Szeth: No. I am good at ice skating. I did not, however, have a pet sheep named Sweep. Kaladin (muttering): I should have known you lacked whimsy. Szeth: It is your turn. Kaladin: Okay, uh...I once lost Wit's flute, when I told you the Radiants had returned I was talking about of my ass because I had no idea, and I have killed TWO chasmfiends. Szeth: ...I truly hope the second one is the lie because you saying that sent me into a terrible darkness from which I had to laboriously claw my way to the light, causing cracks in my psyche that have never truly healed. Kaladin: ... Kaladin: A-Actually, I've only killed one chasmfiend! Szeth: ... Kaladin: Y-Your turn?

6. "The Alphabet Game"

A game in which you try to name an object for reach letter of the alphabet.

Kaladin: I can't read. Szeth: Well, we tried.

7. "Fortunately / Unfortunately"

A game in which people trade off naming something fortunate or unfortunate about the situation they are jointly creating.

Kaladin: Oh no! A highstorm is coming and we are outside! Szeth: Fortunately, we can both simply fly above the storm. Kaladin: Unfortunately, we just went food shopping and we can't carry all of our purchases with us. Szeth: Fortunately, we can simply lash the groceries into the sky where they will be safe. Kaladin: Unfortunately, the sky eels are hungry and they are eating all of our sky groceries. Szeth: Fortunately, sky eels do not like spicy food so they will not eat much before they give up. Kaladin: Unfortunately, sky eel slobber is gross, and now it's on our food. Szeth: Fortunately, you and I are warriors and Radiants and we will not be put off by something so minor as sky eel slobber. Kaladin: Man, this game is great! I love being pessimistic! Szeth: Let us trade roles next time. I too would enjoy finding the worst in every situation. Kaladin: Maybe we can be friends after all.

[leovenuslatina]

kiss and tell 💋

⋆♱✮♱⋆

what your future spouse says about you to their friends and families

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆

psa - tarot readings are not set in stone

take what resonates leave what doesn’t

you’re fully in control of YOUR own life

⋆♱✮♱⋆

take a deep cleansing breathe

pick a pile that calls to you

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

{pile one - ace paper swords, five of pentacles, page of cups}

~

your person brags about you for sure!! they tell their friends and family how accomplished you are and how successful and beautiful you are!! they are the type to blush and smile so hard whenever you name comes up.they tell their friends and family how strong you are and how they feel like to two if you are meant to be. they may tell their family that you’ve been through a lot in you life and that you’ve gotten through some pretty rough things and how they really admire how incredible you are. they feel as though they have to praise you whatever chance they get not in a bad way but just because they want you to know that they feel so fortunate to be with you. they tell their parents about how they want to marry you and have kids with you all the milestone of their life they want you there!!

-

^extra messages^

_ playfullness

_ innocence

_ romance

_inner child

_chemistry

_ magnetic attraction

_self love/self care

_you deserve love

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

{pile two - knight of wands, queen of swords , king of swords}

~

so much . literally don’t get them started when i was shuffling the card a bunch just bursted out at once 😭which tells me that they can’t stop talking about you like whether people ask about you or not. they are the type to see a color or a random object and just go off on a rant about how that reminds them of you or one of you favorite things. when your fs talks about you they say you’re a determined person you do whatever you set you mind on you have hella focus and discipline. you fs says you’re energetic and passionate. they will say you’re a charming person who knows what your worth is. your fs tells everyone how self confident you are and how sure of yourself you can be. pile 2 when your fs talks about you they glow ! they say how you’re a quick witted thinker you’re organized and perceptive. your fs always says that you’re clever and highly skilled mentally. overall pile 2 your fs can’t stop sharing about you to no matter who will listen.

~

^extra messages^

_ supportive

_ encouraging

_ truthful

_ logical

_self discipline

_lawful

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

{pile three - 2 of swords, high priestess}

~

pile 3 what your future spouse will tell their friends and family is how much power you hold over them you’re a power house and you’re not even trying. you’re high maintenance and hard to please but they like that. they tell their friends and family about how hard to get you are and how hard you make them work for your attention and they love it!!! they say you’re magical and mystical and shit lmao like you say stuff that they were thinking and you can predicted things just before they happen. they are absolutely in awe of you fr!! they think you’re mysterious pile 3 everyday they learn something new about you and they fall more in love youre like a gift that just keeps on giving. pile 3 any time anyone asks your fs about you they just list off things they love about you like that you’re understanding and nurturing you’re kind and nonjudgmental.

~

^extra messages^

_intuition

_purples and blues

_insightful

_ manifesting a soulmate

_wisdom

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

{pile four - 4 of cups, the artist, 6 of cups}

~

what your FS says to their friends and family is you’re a a very creative person and you have so much passion about everything you bring into the world. you’re the type of person that’s constantly reinventing themselves. they tell their family that you live learning and exploring and that your mind is constantly growing and working and moving at a million miles an hour. they are very impressed with you. they also tell their families that you’re a generous person. you may make a lot of money or come from a home that is very wealthy but you don’t act as though you’re better than anyone and you help others in need. they say you’re a very helpful person and you’re always there whenever anyone needs a friend.

~

^extra messages^

+boredom

+interpreter

+learning

+prosperity

+favor

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

[mostlysignssomeportents]

When prophecy fails, election polling edition

In Canto 20 of Inferno, Dante confronts a pit where the sinners have had their heads twisted around backwards; they trudge, naked and weeping, through puddles of cooling tears. Virgil informs him that these are the fortunetellers, who tried to look forwards in life and now must look backwards forever.

In a completely unrelated subject, how about those election pollsters, huh?

Writing for The American Prospect, historian Rick Perlstein takes a hard look at characteristic failure modes of election polling and ponders their meaning:

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-09-25-polling-imperilment/

Apart from the pre-election polling chaos we're living through today, Perlstein's main inspiration is W Joseph Campbell 2024 University of California Press book, Lost in a Gallup: Polling Failure in US Presidential Elections:

https://www.ucpress.edu/books/lost-in-a-gallup/paper

In Campbell's telling, US election polling follows a century-old pattern: pollsters discover a new technique that works spookily well..for a while. While the new polling technique works, the pollster is hailed a supernaturally insightful fortune-teller.

In 1932, the Raleigh News and Observer was so impressed with polling by The Literary Digest that they proposed replacing elections with Digest's poll. The Digest's innovation was sending out 20,000,000 postcards advertising subscriptions and asking about presidential preferences. This worked perfectly for three elections – 1924, 1928, and 1932. But in 1936, the Digest blew it, calling the election for Alf Landon over FDR.

The Digest was dethroned, and new soothsayers were appointed: George Gallup, Elmo Roper and Archibald Crossler, who replaced the Digest's high-volume polling with a new kind of poll, one that sought out a representative slice of the population (as Perlstein says, this seems "so obvious in retrospect, you wonder how nobody thought of it before").

Representative polling worked so well that, three elections later, the pollsters declared that they could predict the election so well from early on that there was no reason to keep polling voters. They'd just declare the winner after the early polls were in and take the rest of the election off.

That was in 1948 – you know, 1948, the "Dewey Defeats Truman" election?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dewey_Defeats_Truman

If this sounds familiar, perhaps you – like Perlstein – are reminded of the 2016 election, where Fivethirtyeight and Nate Silver called the election for Hillary Clinton, and we took them at their word because they'd developed a new, incredibly accurate polling technique that had aced the previous two elections.

Silver's innovation? Aggregating state polls, weighting them by accuracy, and then producing a kind of meta-poll that combined their conclusions.

When Silver's prophecy failed in 2016, he offered the same excuse that Gallup gave in 1948: when voters are truly undecided, you can't predict how they'll vote, because they don't know how they'll vote.

Which, you know, okay, sure, that's right. But if you know that the election can't be called, if you know that undecided voters are feeding noise into the system whenever you poll them, then why report the polls at all? If all the polling fluctuation is undecided voters flopping around, not making up their mind, then the fact that candidate X is up 5 points with undecided means nothing.

As the finance industry disclaimer has it, "past performance is no guarantee of future results." But, as Perlstein says, "past performance is all a pollster has to go on." When Nate Silver weights his model in favor of a given poll, it's based on that poll's historical accuracy, not its future accuracy, because its future accuracy can't be determined until it's in the past. Like Dante's fortune-tellers, pollsters have to look backwards even as they march forwards.

Of course, it doesn't help that in some cases, Silver was just bad at assessing polls for accuracy, like when he put polls from the far-right "shock pollster" Trafalgar Group into the highly reliable bucket. Since 2016, Trafalgar has specialized in releasing garbage polls that announce that MAGA weirdos are way ahead, and because they always say that, they were far more accurate than the Clinton-predicting competition in 2016 when they proclaimed that Trump had it in the bag. For Silver, this warranted an "A-" on reliability, and that is partially to blame for how bad Silver's 2020 predictions were, when Republicans got pasted, but Trafalgar continued to predict a Democratic wipeout. Silver's methodology has a huge flaw: because Trafalgar's prediction history began in 2016, that single data-point made them look pretty darned reliable, even though their method was to just keep saying the same thing, over and over:

https://www.ettingermentum.news/p/the-art-of-losing-a-fivethirtyeight

Pollsters who get lucky with a temporarily reliable methodology inevitably get cocky and start cutting corners. After all, polling is expensive, so discontinuing the polls once you think you have an answer is a way to increase the enterprise's profitability. But, of course, pollsters can only make money so long as they're somewhat reliable, which leads to a whole subindustry of excuse-making when this cost-cutting bites them in the ass. In 1948, George Gallup blamed his failures on the audience, who failed to grasp the "difference between forecasting an election and picking the winner of a horse race." In 2016, Silver declared that he'd been right because he'd given Trump at 28.6% chance of winning.

This isn't an entirely worthless excuse. If you predict that Clinton's victory is 71.4% in the bag, you are saying that Trump might win. But pollsters want to eat their cake and have it, too: when they're right, they trumpet their predictive accuracy, without any of the caveats they are so insistent upon when they blow it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1jDlo7YfUxc

There's always some excuse when it comes to the polls: in 1952, George Gallup called the election a tossup, but it went for Eisenhower in a landslide. He took out a full-page NYT ad, trumpeting that he was right, actually, because he wasn't accounting for undecided voters.

Polling is ultimately a form of empiricism-washing. The pollster may be counting up poll responses, but that doesn't make the prediction any less qualitative. Sure, the pollster counts responses, but who they ask, and what they do with those responses, is purely subjective. They're making guesses (or wishes) about which people are likely to vote, and what it means when someone tells you they're undecided. This is at least as much an ideological project as it is a scientific one:

https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2024-09-23-polling-whiplash/

But for all that polling is ideological, it's a very thin ideology. When it comes to serious political deliberation, questions like "who is likely to vote" and "what does 'undecided' mean" are a lot less important than, "what are the candidates promising to do?" and "what are the candidates likely to do?"

But – as Perlstein writes – the only kind of election journalism that is consistently, adequately funded is poll coverage. As a 1949 critic put it, this isn't the "pulse of democracy," it's "its baby talk."

Today, Tor Books publishes VIGILANT, a new, free LITTLE BROTHER story about creepy surveillance in distance education. It follows SPILL, another new, free LITTLE BROTHER novella about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/26/dewey-beats-truman/#past-performance-is-no-guarantee-of-future-results

[lorelune]

aventurine with a reader who is his handler. your primary job? risk analysis. you were an intelligentsia guild member-- once, before your talent for mental statistical computations were fully discovered. being quietly brilliant was much easier than being loudly so. where you could once toil away on private research on the ipc's dime, you now trail behind aventurine, attempting to mitigate all the damage that ripples around him.

(this is particularly difficult as aventurine is a man cursed with luck so good that it's a statistical anomaly. prediction is useless. calculations must be made on the fly and you must pray you are accurate, lest the strategic investment department end up in some amount of personal of fiscal debt themselves.)

aventurine had assured you initially that you didn't need to keep such a close eye on him. and at first, you'd believed him. he is one of the ten stonehearts, and well-regarded despite the rumors and brand on his neck. it's-- it's not your business anyway. to pry. you trust him.

and truthfully, he does keep a good handle on himself. he gets out of all of his gambles in one-- piece. sort of. he either skirts disaster with no room to spare or he takes on the disaster with his own two hands and grit and fucking wins.

and truthfully, if that was the only thing you had to analyze about aventurine, your job would be quite easy. he's lucky. he wins.

however-- there's just so much more to it than that. factors and variables that aren't affected by aventurine's uniquely good fortune. there always is. but what is and what isn't is hard to suss out. it-- it all constantly changes and hence you have to be in aventurine's shadow and hope that your mind is fast enough to deduce and calculate at the speed that aventurine cuts typical odds down to aventurine odds.

which is to say, that exhaustion follows in your shadow.

aventurine isn't a horrible boss. as much as you're his handler, he's yours. there's a semi-silent, mutual duty you both carry. aventurine makes sure you stay in his shadow, just out of sight and out of danger (so, he can position himself in front of any bullets, stray or otherwise. because they will never hit him.) and you make sure that he does not inadvertently cause a firestorm half a galaxy away.

it works. it's tenuous, most of the time. because aventurine thinks getting close to you is his greatest gamble (one cannot use luck to mend a broken heart). and because you recognize that, for all of your risk analysis and statistical understanding of the universe at large, at some point, you will be in aventurine's wake at the wrong time. and your luck, in conjunction to his endless luck, will run out.

it's a statistical inevitability.

[a-dogboys-sweet-lovers]

neuvie cuddles? fem!reader pls :)

Whoops, I got carried away and this is a bit long! (?) Anyways, general tags: sfw - cuddles - f!reader - established relationship - Neuv is being a workaholic again - Neuv calls reader "princess" and "love" - half dragon form Neuv (I am but a weak man)

It's nearing midnight; you've been quietly reading a book alongside your perpetually-busy Iudex, who, predictably, is still working on reviewing some cases. You frown slightly: immortal primordial being or not, Neuvillette, too, needs a rest. Unfortunately, there aren't many people that he would listen to regarding this matter; fortunately, you, being his lover and confidante, are one of them. Still, you decide to choose an indirect approach.

-Neuvilette, love? - you call out quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He leans into your touch much like a cat, rubbing his cheek on your hand.

-What is it that my princess desires?

This is where you put on a bit of a show.

-I'm feeling so lonely... I know you're right here, but you're so busy all the time!

It's not entirely untrue; while you enjoy just exsisting alongside Neuvilette, quietly going around your day even if you two don't interact, you do miss the rare occasions when his attention is entirely on you and you only. Besides, he does need a rest, and as do you.

Neuvilette makes an apologetic face.

-I'm sorry, love, I know I've been paying less attention to you lately... What do you want us to do?

-May we cuddle for a while?

He plants a kiss on your hand and gets up, suddenly lifting you up into a princess carry, smiling slightly. You giggle, not quite expecting him to have done that. His rather impressive height and inhuman strength mean you practically weigh nothing to him, and he does carry you around a lot because of that, but somehow he still manages to surprise you every time he does.

-Do you want us to lay down, or...?

-Yes! To the bedroom, please, - you ask him in a mock-commanding tone, pointing towards your shared bedroom in a spoiled princess impression. That makes him smile wider. He carefully maneuvres you around all the doorframes and finally places you gently onto the big, soft canopy bed, taking time to shed some outer layers of his complicated outfit to enter a more relaxed state. Meanwhile, you fluff the pillows, making some sorts of a nest for you two. With an exhausted, but still somewhat content sigh Neuvilette plops onto the bed next to you and immediately throws his arms around you. In this position his head is on your chest, and you really want to pet him like an oversized affectionate cat. When you give in to your desires, you hear a purr - right. Dragons, it turns out, purr. Because Neuvilette sure wasn't perfect before. You smile, looking at your adorable lover, who under your hands on his scalp has relaxed into a semi-conscious state... Oh, wait, what's -

You feel something slithering against your leg, waiting to circle it. It feels strange,and at first you get startled - but then you realize: Neuvilette's tail. Your lover became so deeply relaxed in your presence, his human form shifted into a more natural semi-draconic form. And his tail wants cuddles, too. You giggle quietly, planting a kiss on top of your lover's head; your legs become entangled with Neuvilette's tail, and, fast asleep, he mumbles something resembling "my love", before his body goes completely slack against yours.

Well, you definitely don't mind cuddling him throughout the night, then.

[cottonlemonade]

How You Met (and other stuff)

word count: 1430 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Daichi x chubby!Reader

genre: angst, a dash of fluff, smut - it has it all, happy ending I’d say (or very happy ending ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

warnings: mdni, nsfw, getting stabbed (no actual description, just… it’s happening quite casually)

> so how you met was a bit wild

> Daichi had a blind date

> a friend from work had talked him into it and Daichi made the grave mistake of telling his mom about it when she called demanding her weekly update on his life

> upon hearing her only son had a date she immediately made an appointment with her fortune teller and was delighted to tell Daichi that it was predicted he would meet his wife on the day of his date

> Daichi highly doubted that that would be the case but humored his mom

> after the blind date he met his friend for a drink, very sure that while the set up had been nice enough, she seemed more interested in his looks and badge than his personality

> as he brainstormed with his friend how he would let his mom know that she would have to wait a bit longer for her grandkids he heard someone shout “Watch out!” and got pushed out of the way

> a young woman around his age had shoved him off his stool

> confused he looked you up and down then noticed the knife sticking out of your thigh and his eyes widened

> a man dressed in black hurried out of the bar and Daichi was torn between staying with you or running after him, but his friend was already in pursuit, calling for backup

> “Don’t move.”, Daichi said, offering his steady hand to your shaking one

> What were you thinking!? Guilt washed over him that a civilian got hurt because someone tried to harm him

> while you waited for an ambulance he tried to distract you

> apparently you had also just been on a blind date tonight but the guy, upon seeing that you weren’t slim and leggy, had just turned around and left without even saying Hello

> somehow that just made Daichi even angrier because when he the adrenaline had subsided a little he had not been able to stop staring at you

> not only were you brave and selfless by protecting a complete stranger (although he was saving a severe scolding followed by a long lecture on self-preservation for later) but you were also - in his opinion - just absolutely stunning and joking around mere minutes after literally being stabbed in your … very plush thigh (Daichi shook his head to keep his thoughts straight)

> using strong liquor the bartender kindly provided he poured some over the wound, making sure to leave the knife in, marveling once again at your strength that you hardly even winced

> Daichi joined you in the back of the ambulance and actually visited you every day until your release, bringing you flowers and good food, every time staying just a little bit longer so he could talk to you

> when you were allowed to go home he offered to drive you and as you said Goodbye at your door, he finally worked up the courage to ask you out

_________________

Two Months Later

When you had first suggested it, Daichi was all for the idea. The incident at the bar still lay heavily on his mind and whenever he closed his eyes he could still feel your blood running through his hands where he had used napkins to stop the bleeding.

As far as he could tell, you carried nothing but a scar on your upper thigh from it. You still limped on occasion when you two took a longer walk in the park or when you came home from work, having had to run to catch your bus, but besides that you seemed perfectly fine. Although once or twice shortly afterwards, you had bolted up in the middle of night drenched in sweat, calling his name. In those nights he wanted to cry or break something for you having been in danger in the first place.

And then he would hold you tight until the morning and tell you that you were safe, that he would protect you.

So, saying that you wanted to learn to defend yourself properly sent a rush through his body. Of course he immediately agreed and booked the studio he usually trained at for his next evening off.

“So the first thing you need to know is how to stand.”, Daichi said, taking position next to you.

You nodded.

“Since you are right handed, you would keep your left foot forward, and your right foot would be at an angle. - Just like that, perfect.” He put his hand on your shoulder, guiding you a little forward. “Don’t stand too straight, you gotta slouch a bit. - Exactly, you’re a natural.” He kissed your cheek and went on, “Now, you lead with your right, so you will want to jab with your left, keeping your right for your power punch.”

He demonstrated and lightly punched the air, watching as you followed his example.

As the night went on, you eventually switched to training with pads. He had you punch his hands in alternating patterns, correcting your stance, encouraging you, reminding you to move. Sweat was running down your back and your arms were glistening, you were getting tired.

You started to pant and the throbbing in your thigh was killing you, but you didn’t want to stop.

Daichi straightened himself when he saw your leg shaking.

“Stop.”, he told you, “You are in pain.” It wasn’t a question and he looked at you disapprovingly.

“No, I’m fine, let’s keep going.”, you said, raising your hands for another set of jabs.

“y/n.”, Daichi’s tone was stern, “When did it start hurting?”

“I don’t know.”, you said truthfully. You had been wrapped up too much in the training to pay attention.

Your boyfriend shook his head and took off the pads, nodding towards a bench in the corner.

With pursed lips to conceal a groan you sat down and stretched your leg. Daichi knelt in front of you and carefully took off your gym shorts to have a look at the scar.

“You need to be more careful.”, he scolded, gently massaging your leg with his warm hands, having you close your eyes in sweet relief.

After a while he asked quietly: “Have you been lying to me…?”

Your eyes shot open in shock. “What do you mean?”

“I haven’t been able to sleep over this past week. Are you sleeping well?”

“Of course I am.”

“Then why your sudden interest in kickboxing?”

You avoided his eyes. For what seemed like an eternity, none of you said a word, both trying to focus on anything but the tension his implication had left behind.

Letting out a deep breath, he leaned his forehead against yours. “I am so sorry.”

“There is no reason for you to be sorry…” Tears began to fill your eyes.

“I should have seen him coming, I should have been the one protecting you, that’s my job, I shouldn’t have-”

You cut him off with a kiss, cupping his cheeks to pull him closer. He breathed heavily, kneeling between your legs, running his hands up your thighs, closing the gap between your bodies.

Guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist, he lifted you up like it was nothing, keeping his lips firmly pressed against yours. The cold concrete of the wall against your back made you gasp, letting him deepen the kiss.

You felt him hard against the thin fabric of your panties and held tight to his hair.

The only sound for a long time in the empty studio was your heavy breathing.

“Hold on.”, he whispered against you and you tightened your arms and legs around him.

Supporting you with one hand on your ass, he pulled your panties to the side and relieved his now painfully hard cock from his sweat pants.

His thrusts were slow at first. Deep and sensual. He kissed your neck and breasts, getting rougher by the second.

He felt hungrier now, increasing the pace, leaving you grabbing his shoulders in sensitive pleasure.

All the anger, all the fear, frustration and hatred he had felt since the attack were breaking free and the powerlessness that controlled his thoughts was washed away.

You called out his name over and over, letting it echo through the studio.

His kisses at your neck had become bites, alternating between teeth and lips.

For a while he held you there, pressed against the wall, twitching in his arms, tears running down your cheeks from the intense climax.

“You are my everything.”, he said softly in your ear, kissing your jaw, then cheek, then finally your lips.

✨ @briokayama ✨

[mycryptosuite]

Fortune Thursday Confirmed Two Sure For 15/06/2023

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[bridenore]

HD longer fics recs : 90k to 100k words

Here are a few recs for fics ranging between 90k and 100k words.

You can see my recs for fics that have more than 200k here, between 150k and 200k here, between 125k and 150k here and between 100k and 125k here.

Allegiance and Sedition by SilentAuror [98k]

The war is in its fifth year, and Harry finds himself caught up in the confusion of friend versus enemy, spy versus traitor.

At Your Service by @faith2wood [95k]

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There’s only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

Balance, Imperfect by @bixgirl1 [91k]

When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.

A Case of You by @epitomereally [97k]

Draco was doing just fine working as an Unspeakable in Paris, hanging out with his living and ghostly pals, inventing new spells, and definitely not thinking about Potter. Then, Lucius just had to break out of prison and turn his world upside down. Now, Draco has to return to England, where he is forced to confront how family ties bind us—and one infuriatingly fit Harry Potter.

Chasing Dragons by @the-sinking-ship [98k]

Draco can think of only one way to outclass his pleat-front-khaki-wearing politician ex, and that’s by making headlines with an obvious upgrade. And who better to upstage the cheating bastard than the Saviour of the World, Harry Potter himself? Sure, Potter is a little rough around the edges in ripped jeans, a rumpled tartan shirt, and a permanent scowl. Draco reckons a haircut and a shave wouldn’t hurt, either. But Potter is also in need of a Healer willing to keep his secrets, and Draco is just the man for the job. It’s a perfectly reasonable exchange. They need only attend a couple parties arm-in-arm, smile nicely for the paparazzi, and tolerate each other long enough to convince everyone they’re smitten. In return, Draco will keep Potter alive and in one piece. But it isn’t long before Draco realises he might be in over his head, because Potter is ten tonnes of trouble packed into a leather jacket, and seems keen on hurtling himself towards death on the back of a flying motorbike. And that says nothing of Potter’s penchant for fire-breathing beasts and things that bite. Ah well, at least they’ll have some fun while it lasts. After all, Draco always did like a bit of danger.

Firebond by Oakstone730 / @i-didnt-wanna-do-it​ [94k]

Draco is forced to tutor Harry in potions. A slight problem occurs.

Helix by Saras_Girl [92k]

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again. [2014 advent fic]

Hermione Granger’s Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by @waspabi [93k]

‘You’re a wizard, Harry’ is easier to hear from a half-giant when you’re eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you’re seventeen and late for work.

How I Met Your Father by @dracogotgame [95k]

Harry sits his kids down and tells them a story. A very long story. 

How To Train Your Malfoy by @fencer-x [93k]

Good manners dictate that, when one’s best friend Apparates onto one’s doorstep holding the unconscious, haggard body of the schoolyard bully and begging for sanctuary, one ought to invite the two of them in for a cup of tea. Harry Potter sometimes wishes he weren’t so polite.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di [93k]

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he’s a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography. An invitation to the Hogwarts class of 1998’s 15th reunion isn’t welcomed by either of them, but neither could predict how the night, and their reunion, will upend their lives.

Light up the Night by Saras_Girl [98k]

This year, despite his better judgement, Harry’s love life is going off with a bang. Advent fic 2019.

Season of the Spirit by Saras_Girl [95k]

It starts with a swan. What happens after that is a bit of a mystery. 2018 advent story.

The Silent World Within You by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [95k]

Harry only wanted Malfoy for one night, one birthday. It wasn’t meant to be anything more.

Tempus Fugit by Poison Pen [90k+]

A monumental cock-up in Potions means that Harry and Draco have more to contend with than mutual enmity. A journey of discovery, self-reflection and love.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid [99k]

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry’s justice is his ticket back to everything he’s lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy’s world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong?

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[silkjade-archived]

maybe we're a forest fire

Featuring— alhaitham x reader ⤀ warnings: gn!reader, hurt/comfort fic, reader has a pyro vision, slightly suggestive at the end if you squint ⤀ summary: when a love divination claims your relationship is doomed to fail, alhaitham is there to soothe your overthinking | w.c. 1k+ ⤀ a/n: alhaitham strikes me as someone who's intelligent but doesn't overthink, so as an overthinker, this is a bit self indulgent

“You’re overthinking things again,” al-haitham states matter of factly. He continues to read despite the soft thudding of your footsteps as you pace the room.

“I’m not.” You argue, stopping in your tracks. “It makes sense. I just think… what if we…” your words trail off as you hesitate, biting your lip, wondering if you should continue your train of thought. 

“...what if we… end things now. Before things get worse…” you falter, wringing your hands, your voice as small as you feel under the watchful eyes of the heavens. Al-haitham’s shoulders visibly stiffen, pausing for just a moment to look up from his book, before slamming it shut in his hand.

“And where’s all this coming from?” he inquires, a quizzical brow arched in skepticism. Your boyfriend leans back in his seat, arms crossed, waiting for an explanation; you weren’t one to make rash decisions like this.

“Where’s this coming from… al-haitham were you even listening to me?” you throw your hands up in frustration and continue pacing the room. The two of you had taken a stroll this afternoon through sumeru city and you had thought it a good idea to have your fortunes read; your colleague at the akademiya, setaria, had sworn by nabiya and the accuracy of her readings, claiming that this relationship you had with the scribe should undergo the young fortune teller’s divination before proceeding foward: “Lest you waste your time on a doomed love prospect,” your friend had warned. Besides, it wasn’t that you necessarily believed in divination, but it didn’t hurt to have a little bit of fun… right? How wrong you were.

As you once again begin to pace to and fro, you miss the way al-haitham rolls his eyes from across you. “Don’t tell me this is all because of what that fortune teller said. You know they’re almost never accurate right? And you’re telling me you want to end things because… her cats recommended it?” Nabiya had read that your relationship would burn up, like a dying star, that it’d be better to save the trouble before everything went up in flames.

“No,” you continue, ignoring him, “she said the gods spoke through her. But anyways, I’ve been thinking ever since and I mean… just looking at our visions should be proof enough that maybe we shouldn’t be together at all.” 

“And pray tell, what do our visions have to do with our relationship? If anything, I’d say it’s a good omen that our elements react so well together.” Ever the rational insight. Usually, al-haitham quite enjoyed listening to your theories, but this was getting absurd, making him wonder if perhaps, there was more troubling you beneath the surface than you let on. Because even he couldn’t predict the tangent you were about to go on when your pyro and his dendro vision worked wonders together, especially when encountering enemies during your investigations in the forest and beyond. 

“Yes, they do react well don’t they,” you chuckle, cynical. “Burning. In our forest nation.”

“Well actually only half forest,” he interjects, as a poor attempt at lightening the mood. In his quiet observation, al-haitham hears the slight shift in your tone, hears you struggling to choke back your true feelings in your tirade. And yet the more you processed your own reasoning, the more it made sense. Your lover is rational if nothing else, so he’s sure to see your point. The nails of your clenched fists dig into the flesh of your palms, your heart starts beating faster, the voices of a hundred different thoughts swirling in your head. Here in the knowledge driven nation of sumeru, it was a rare occasion that the head would agree with the heart, so when it came down to it, most chose to follow their head. You were no exception.

“Al-haitham I’m being serious.” As if your large, pleading eyes weren’t already enough to break his cool persona, your next words do. You turn around, unable to face him as you begin to speak.

“Pyro is destructive. When it spreads, it burns everything in its path, and what if I burn you. Maybe not literally but I’m sure you know the sages aren’t exactly happy their scribe is getting distracted lately. And the grand sage is rtawahist— he’s bound to connect the dots and say the same… I don’t want to be a liability to you al-haitham, or cost you-” 

Ah. There it was. Dating the infamous grand scribe had thrown both you and your relationship into the public eye, and the scrutiny of the akademiya itself was no exception. You felt the air escape from your lungs before you could continue any further. Al-haitham had all but jumped out of his seat, tackling your person and enveloping you from behind, in a rare embrace.

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay. We’re going to be okay,” he murmurs, “having a pyro vision doesn’t make you the fire itself. And the sages have no say in my personal life, so even if you do ever burn me, well, forests need fire to renew and regrow.” He turns your body around to face him, fingers lifting up your chin so he could look into your eyes.

“I don’t care about any sort of destiny the gods or stars want to show me. I-”

“-plan to discredit the entire rtawahist darshan?” Al-haitham ignores your interruption and continues,

“And? I’d go against celestia as well if they think the element of our visions is enough of a reason to seperate us. You know I’m no zealot.” When the only response he gets from you is the fact that you shift your eyes away from his, he opts to pull you into himself, a hand on your back, the other behind your head. At this proximity, you’re able to pick up the steady sounds of his heartbeat. It was calming; it settled the rapid pace of your own heart to match his. Slowly, you bring your arms to wrap around his waist and press a soft smile into his chiseled chest.

“I fight for what I believe in, and I believe in us. It’s going to take more than just some fortune teller to change my mind, so let’s not discuss this anymore… unless you’d like other ways to keep your thoughts at bay?”

“You know… despite the robot allegations, you’re actually quite romantic,” you tease, looking up. 

“And you’re strangely impulsive for an overthinker.”

“...shut up.”

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[miasmaghoul]

Ooh, I have an idea! Dewther or perhaps even Dew/Aeon human au...but Aether/Aeon is a bona fide psychic and Dew is a hard ass skeptic. Pretty please. -🔔

(Literally none of these are three sentences so far, what is wrong with me. No warnings for this one, aside from some mild language.)

"Bullshit," Dew scoffs, leaning his chair back to balance on two legs. "You don't really expect me to believe this crap, do you?"

Beside him, Aether rolls his eyes.

"Ye of little faith," he chuckles, nudging Dew's knee with his own. "I'm telling you, Dew, he's never wrong."

Across the small table, in a haze of incense smoke, sits a young man whom Dew would be hitting on in any other situation. He's handsome in a boyish way, with dark, shaggy hair and sparkling eyes in a color Dew can't quite parse. Something between blue and gray, he thinks. He has a few facial piercings - his lip, his septum, his left eyebrow - and Dew can see the edges of tattoos peeking out from the sleeves and collar of his hoodie. He hasn't stopped smiling since they entered his shop, and Dew is pretty sure the kid hasn't stopped looking at him the entire time.

"Whatever," he says with a dismissive wave. "He's probably about as accurate as that fortune cookie I got last week."

Across the table, their supposed psychic chuckles. He scoots closer and leans on his elbows, cupping his own face in both hands, and something about the look in his eye makes Dew straighten up in his chair.

"What're you so scared of?" He nods at the table, a slew of tarot cards laid out before the three of them. "That I might be right?"

Dew barks out a loud ha, shaking his head and slinking out of his chair.

"About what?" He doesn't even try to keep the incredulity from his voice, and Aether stares at the carpet. "You say I'm gonna 'run into someone unexpected'," he mocks (complete with air quotes), pointing at a card most definitely not associated with that particular prediction. "That it'll 'help to open my eyes'." Another scoff. "I got news for you, kid - I can see just fine."

He shrugs on his leather jacket, tossing his hair over his shoulder. He looks down his nose at the reader, and his disarming grin sets Dew's teeth on edge.

"C'mon, Aeth," he grumbles, tugging on his shirtsleeve and nodding towards the door. "Let's get outta here. I'm getting metaphysical cooties."

Aether rolls his eyes and offers the reader an apologetic smile. He doesn't seem put out in the slightest though, unfolding himself from his own chair and sauntering back behind the counter. Dew doesn't spare him so much as a second glance as he heads towards the door.

"I'll be right out," Aether calls, and Dew waves over his shoulder when he shoves the door open.

The crisp autumn air fills his nose, chasing away the sickly scent of incense as he sucks down a lungful. He fishes a crumpled packet of cigarettes from his pocket as the door creaks shut, and a sudden breeze makes him turn to his right in an effort to cover the flame of his lighter.

"Behind you," a cheery voice calls just as the door slips shut, and Dew's shoulders go tight. He spins on his heel with every intention of storming back inside and -

"Fuck!"

Dewdrop slams directly into the only other person on the street - a stern looking older woman, in a black pencil skirt and matching blazer - stumbling backward as he feels something cold soak into his shirt. His back hits the shop window and he stares down, blinking at the dark brown stain now marring the fabric of his tee. The one day he wears white.

"Watch where you're going," the woman scolds him, grimacing at her now mostly empty coffee cup. "What a waste," she huffs, tossing it into a nearby trash can. With one last withering state she struts off down the sidewalk, heels clicking against the cobblestone path, and Dew feels himself getting redder by the second.

He slips back into the reader's shop, wincing when the chime rings out. At the counter, the pair of them are staring at him - Aether's eyes sit wide, darting between Dew's ruined shirt and flushed face. The reader still wears that same smile, and he gives Dew a little finger wave.

"Guess you should've kept your eyes open," he teases, and Dew stares daggers at him.

Aether doesn't make a sound as he finishes checking out, silently paying for the reading and a couple of crystals that had caught his eye. Dew doesn't stick around to see what the damage is, storming out once more and heading to the car.

This time, he looks both ways when he leaves, and the little chuckle he hears from behind the counter makes him feel like an absolute fool.

He only sits in the car for a few minutes before Aether appears, fruitlessly attempting to daub the coffee from his shirt with a handful of takeout napkins. He grumbles under his breath when Aether gets behind the wheel, and holds up a hand when he opens his mouth.

"Not. A. Word."

Aether holds up both hands in concession, sticking his bag in the back seat and turning over the ignition. He pauses for a moment with his hand on the gearshift, and with a sigh pulls out his wallet.

"Here," he says, offering Dew a small white rectangle. "Just in case."

Dew eyeballs the little piece of cardstock like it'll burn him on contact. With a heavy sigh he abandons his attempt at cleaning up, grabbing the card from Aether's hand and really fighting the urge to huck it out the window. In the back of his mind, though, the rest of the reader's so-called predictions repeat themselves, and Dewdrop sighs as he looks at the business card.

On the front, in simple block lettering, it reads:

Aeon, Psychic for Hire

Dew blinks. One name? Who was this kid? There isn't even a business name or phone number, nothing. He flips the card over, incredulous, and finds one more line of text:

Don't worry, I'll call you.

The moment he finishes reading, his phone chirps, and Dew jolts so hard he drops the card. Aether snorts beside him and Dew throws a coffee-damp napkin at his face. He fishes out his phone with a scowl - he knows it's another coincidence, just like the woman with the coffee must have been. He's going to look at his phone and see a text from Rain or Swiss, or maybe just some notification he doesn't give a shit about.

Or he could see a single line of text from an unknown number, staring back at him like some kind of cruel joke.

A clean tie attracts the soup of the day. :)

"What the fuck..."

"Hmm?" Aether looks over as he shifts into drive, pulling out into the quiet street. "What's up?"

Dew stares at the screen until it goes dark, and then shoves his phone back in his pocket. He slouches in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and staring out the window while Aether talks about the crystals he picked up.

Dew doesn't hear a word of it. He can only think about the fortune cookie he got last week, the little slip of paper still stuck to his fridge because it made him laugh until he cried:

"A clean tie attracts the soup of the day."

His phone chimes again, and Dew does not look at it.

[billdenbrough]

did a flash fic challenge today & the character i received from the spin2win was kevin. @merceyca prompted “plexiglass” & immediately after that, @vykio prompted “haunted house”, because they love to make life easy for me LMFAO. predictably with this setup, this is kevaaron. so.

kevaaron + haunted house, plexiglass

“This was a terrible idea,” Kevin mutters.

Andrew obviously hears him, but predictably ignores him, instead choosing to poke experimentally at the cleaver hanging from the ceiling. Renee, at his side, gently lowers his arm.

Matt is sandwiched between Dan and Neil, a bit ahead of Andrew. Allison and Nicky seem to be competing to find the ‘hottest corpse’.

Aaron, bringing up the rear with Kevin, slants him a sidelong glance. “Because those two are three seconds from being sent to a sexual harassment seminar or because you’re worried Andrew will try steal a machete from one of the actors?” he asks dryly.

“They’re not sharp enough,” Andrew says blandly. Renee shoots Kevin an apologetic look over her shoulder—he’s not really sure why; or rather, the only answer that comes to mind is at risk of making him flush, so he beats it back with a stick—and loops her arm with Andrew’s, leading him further out of earshot. Andrew allows it.

When Kevin looks back at Aaron, he’s tilting his head.

“Or something else?” Aaron asks.

Kevin weighs up his options. Discovering no good ones, he grumbles, “I think I saw a clown chasing a toddler with a flamethrower.”

Aaron snorts. “The great Kevin Day,” he says. His tone is mocking, but like – in that Aaron way. Kevin doesn’t really know how to explain it. There’s mocking when Aaron means it, how he used to talk to Neil and the scathing tone he turns on the especially annoying freshmen on the line-up, and then there’s like this: that natural tilt to his voice, something blunt and sarcastic, but no force behind it.

Kevin’s seen what it looks like, after all, when Aaron puts his strength into it.

He’s about to huff—something waspish about haunted houses and horror films and the Foxes’ inexplicable idea of what constitutes ‘fun’—when Aaron shifts closer, the sudden flush of body heat emanating off him stealing the words from Kevin’s mouth.

Aaron doesn’t seem concerned with saying anything, so Kevin doesn’t either, just shifts his weight on his next step to move closer to Aaron, now that he’s allowed. Their shoulders brush. Kevin thinks again about Renee’s apologetic expression, and almost bites off his own tongue.

It’s two rooms later—after Matt had to pull Nicky back from peering into a coffin before a guillotine descended on him, and Dan swore loudly at a fortune-teller who appeared suddenly at her side and kept ominously intoning her name while Allison told Neil, yeah, so that’s why you never say anyone’s name in one of these things—that Kevin finally says, “It’s dark.”

Aaron opens his mouth. Pauses. Shuts it. Hums.

Kevin thinks he’s going to have to say more. Explain himself. Talk about claustrophobic spaces, stuck in the dark, threats of violence.

Then Aaron takes his hand, holding it tight, and it’s like the air goes out of Kevin’s lungs.

He thinks about the car ride over, when Aaron and Nicky debated which horror movie to watch later that night. Nicky had been texting the other car at the time, chiming in with suggestions from the upperclassmen, most of which Aaron had shot down. His knee had kept bouncing, the way it did when he was animated, or irritated, or annoyed, or over-tired, or restless, or a thousand other things that Aaron sometimes was, that Kevin sometimes noticed. He’d wanted to reach out and still Aaron’s leg. He hadn’t.

He thinks about a week ago at Eden’s, downing seven shots as he sat at the table, ignoring whatever the fuck Neil and Andrew were doing as he watched Aaron—fucking wasted—tilt his head back on the dance floor, the lights illuminating the line of his throat. He thinks about an hour before they left for Eden’s that same night, arguing with Aaron about something that didn’t really matter, until it did, and he was pressing Aaron against the plexiglass of the court walls, snapping at him, and then kissing him, and kissing him, and kissing him. He thinks about Aaron—pinned halfway up the wall, Kevin raising him up for a better angle, Aaron’s hand leaving an imprint on the plexiglass—kissing him back.

He thinks about a month before that, on the bus on their way back from a game against Belmonte, Aaron sitting beside him and—with a long-suffering sigh—offering one of his earbuds to Kevin. It hadn’t been music Kevin knew, which Kevin had said, to which Aaron had scoffed, and said, You don’t know anything that came out after the 1800s, which was rude, but possibly fair. Still, Kevin had argued the point, and Aaron had objected to each of his statements, and somehow they’d ended up spending the entire journey going through Aaron’s playlists while they tried to—in Aaron’s words—find ‘an actual music taste’ for Kevin.

Kevin thinks about all of these things, and about Renee’s apology, and about Aaron’s hand in his, and about Aaron shifting closer, and Aaron’s sidelong glance, and he swallows.

A clown could try murder him right now, he thinks, and he might not even notice.

Slowly, he squeezes Aaron’s hand: smaller than his, but firm, unwavering.

After a moment, Aaron squeezes back.

[lil-oreo-crumbles]

“You’re a Disappointment,” An Analysis

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Seven years. Seven. Years. And it only just now finally hit me what Toffee truly meant when he called Marco a disappointment in Storm the Castle, and I feel pretty silly for not realizing it before.

Before Storm the Castle, Toffee has only seen Marco on two significant (canonical) occasions, Fortune Cookies and Mewnipendance Day. (As you may remember, Marco was MIA during Marco Grows a Beard, considering he was… physically trapped in that bathroom as his beard overwhelmed the house)

Fortune Cookies:

The entire plot of the episode, besides the ever enjoyable introduction to our favorite lizard, is Star once again being amazed by another Earth oddity: fortune cookies. She believes that the fortunes are genuine predictions of the future and are infallible and to be relied on for all of her future decisions (not helped by Marco who did influence this misconception by messing with her). This immediately establishes in Toffee’s mind— after learning from Buff Frog that she believes the messages in the messages in her cookies are fortunes— that she’s naive, impulsive, easy to stray, and immature. Of course, he very quickly learns about her impulsivity, fighting prowess, and stubborn will, but her naivety is what sticks out to him in this moment, and it’s what he takes full advantage of. (Note: I don’t think he actually looks down on her for these traits alone and expects her to be mature at all, I think he sees those traits going hand and hand with her age. She’s only 14, after all. Nevertheless, they are still traits he can use to his advantage to further his goals.)

This is something that Star has in common with the monsters Toffee has found himself within the company of. The only difference here? These are grown adults who he expects to have a bit more dignity under their belt, ESPECIALLY Ludo. While I’m sure he’s grateful that Ludo was naive enough to hire him with clever wordplay alone— overall assisting to further his goals— he can’t help but feel annoyed by the plain stupid amount of immaturity he possesses.

I think this is less so with Ludo’s army. Even if they share very similar traits, he knows they’ve been living under Ludo’s childish tyranny, and probably has a bit more faith that they can be molded into proper soldiers. Though, his patience is still worn extremely thin by their shenanigans.

Toffee takes advantage of this by planting a fortune in her bag, “Love is Always the Answer.” While I personally believe there’s a deeper meaning, it’s not relevant right now. But anywho, the core purpose is to let Star’s guard down enough so Ludo can gain ownership of the wand.

While Star believes the message hook, line, and sinker, Marco immediately sees past the ridiculousness of the fortune in such a dire situation. “What? Not in this case! Fighting is!”

“Really? Now??”

He immediately sees past the fortune, relying on logic to reason that such a simple trick is just that: a trick. Clearly Star’s pacifism isn’t working, and they need to make the rational decision to fight. He’s immediately proves himself to be the level headed one of the duo, the one who keeps his head on straight and is clearly the maturer of the two.

Marco saw right through the trap and displayed common sense and logic. And he was later vindicated when it was revealed to Star that the fortune cookie was a trap.

And I can guarantee you Toffee noticed this, and it was only further cemented in the next time Toffee sees him again.

Mewnipendance Day:

In this episode, Star is celebrating what she knows as “Mewnipendance Day”, also known as the Great Monster Massacre, where the first Queen of Mewni attempted to wipe out monsters from the face of the planet, an attempted genocide of innocent people who lived on the land she stole from them.

Star explains the entire story from the Mewman’s propagandized perspective, going through a pop-up storybook to demonstrate the beginning and the end of the massacre. She gives an explanation of the beginnings, skips past the actual genocide and fighting itself, and ends with “And the Mewmans won!”

And guess who’s the only person who notices and brings attention to it? Marco Diaz himself.

“Wait, but you just blew past all the important stuff.”

Once again, Marco is the one who’s calling out important things, looking deeper and more critically at the situation, opposed to everyone else who just goes along with it. He shows very clear and obvious signs that he’s more mature than his peers.

And let’s not forget, Ludo and Toffee are watching all of this through the surveillance device (the “all seeing eye”). Sure, Toffee is a tad distracted by the book he’s reading, but with how intelligent he is I’m almost positive that he’s multitasking here.

And Marco only proceeds to exceed expectations, actually going through the book and starting to see, at least in part, the true reality of the situation, calling it out and bringing it to Star’s attention.

“Star, I know the monsters are bad and all, but this seems… unfair.”

Marco demonstrates that he is willing to see past biases and to see reason. He sees past the blatant propaganda and revisionist history, at least in part.

Overall, he is actively more mature than the others with common sense that aids in critical thinking skills and nuance beyond what’d Toffee would expect at his age, especially contrasted against Star. And I think taking off rose colored glasses and seeing the monster massacre for what it really is (again at least in part) really helps with Toffee’s perception of Marco as some levity amongst the childish people he’s been surrounded with.

That is, until their third interaction in Storm the Castle.

Storm the Castle:

Toffee clearly sees Marco as a competent fighter, considering the double imprisonment with not only the chair that confines him but the crystal box prison too. He knows Marco is more competent and mature than most people in his vicinity

At least. He did.

During Storm the Castle while Marco is imprisoned, he takes on the traits seen with Ludo, his soldiers, and Star. He’s acting immature, he’s being impulsive, and he’s talking back with what he assumes is witty dialogue. He’s trying to act all tough guy, which clearly doesn’t work with Toffee. Toffee humors him a little bit during the sandwich dialogue, releasing him from the chair, and Marco immediately takes an impulsive swing at him, leaving him to punch the crystal and immediately writhe in pain at the impact. Marco then immediately throws away Toffee’s genuine attempt at offering him a meal. Toffee is a monster, and being a monster in Mewni means that food, especially good food, is invaluable, because it’s so hard to come by. Seeing Marco waste and make a mess of it without a second thought is probably the nail in the coffin.

Marco isn’t the slightly more mature young boy Toffee assumed he was. He had witnessed from afar Marco’s knack for nuance and critical thinking, a breath of fresh air amongst incompetence.

But as soon as they get one on one all of that is immediately washed away.

Marco is acting like everyone else he’s come across lately, openly defying the nuanced maturity Toffee had witnessed previously. He’s just like the others. He’s being childish. He isn’t special.

“You’re a disappointment”

It’s not some profound statement, there’s no weight behind it. Toffee had no expectations for Marco and wasn’t planning on using him for his goals. Marco just genuinely was not who Toffee assumed he was by his previous actions. Toffee was mildly genuinely disappointed to learn just how kiddish Marco really is. He really expected better.

I also think this explains why Toffee didn’t bother to put him back in the chair restraints. He really didn’t need to go that far with trapping him in the first place.

I don’t think Toffee is surprised, or even phased by it, Marco is a 14 year old child after all. I don’t even think Toffee’s expectations for his maturity were big, period, just the slightest bit of relief that Marco was a breath of fresh air amongst the sea of incompetence. But no. He wasn’t, as far as Toffee concludes at least. This one interaction completely killed any hope Toffee might have carried, and he would just roll his eyes for even allowing himself to put even a little faith in someone.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. Anyways…”

I know there were tons of theories on this, but the actual answer, as far as I’ve figured, is incredibly simple lol. And now that I’ve finally realized what that line really meant, I think it’s important to share.