#Minister of Juice

[suguann]

OH, DARLING—ASTARION

✎. he’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky, and you have the sneaking suspicion he's upset with you. | wc. 1.3K+

tags. fem!reader, established relationship, jealousy, slight dirty talk, pet names [18+ only]

masterlist

Eighteen days. That’s how long it takes between the Shadowlands and reaching Wyrm’s Crossing. Longer still since you’ve interacted with anyone other than bandits, lost refugees, cult-crazed lunatics, and your merry band of weirdos (Gale’s words, not yours). 

For once, you’re not picking berries off bushes to offset hunger until you make camp or plucking bramble from your pants when the occasional trail turns out to be safer than the King’s Road. You can finally sit at a bartop and order wine instead of choking down the contents of an ancient bottle of Ithbank you snatched from a cellar in some decrepit village.

That was at least the most tolerable thing you experienced outside the gates, as far as roughing it in the wilds goes.

And it might be your newfound appreciation for city life, of finding an escape from what’s become your current normal—sneaking past goblin-infested camps, waterlogged boots, and haystacks for beds (an upgrade from sleeping on the cold, hard dirt, you suppose)—that lures the Drow twins over to your party walking down from the top floor of the Sharess’ Caress.

“You must be curious after keeping such…” Nym glances over Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach, hovering behind you, threatening with blood stains on their clothes and out of place in an establishment full of nobles and wealthy ministers. “Interesting company.”

It’s safe to say you’re uninterested in the twins, but that doesn’t stop your curiosity from piquing when Nym demonstrates her talents with a peach she snatches from a fruit bowl off the nearest table. By the end of it—an obscene display that catches the eye of a few patrons walking by and sends your imagination reeling—you wonder how often she does this to gain clientele. If it’s always so…hands-on.

“So what do you think?” 

You don’t know what to think, oddly confused like that first time Astarion had to spell out for you that he wanted to have sex—you’re going to be so fun to break, pet—a girl who’s every bit the product and trappings of a sheltered fool. 

“Are you interested?”

The mutilated peach in Nym’s hand drips clear fruit juice down her wrist in thin rivulets, collecting at her elbow. You start to shake your head—

Astarion scoffs. “She already has her hands full without your sticky fingers and whatever the hells you’re doing to that innocent peach.” 

Nym’s mouth curls up into a coy smile before her gaze sweeps over to Astarion. “Her lover, I presume?”

“As in, I already tasted said peach while you’re still trying to get your mouth on it; well then, yes. Very much so.”

You slap his chest, your face somehow getting hotter. “Astarion!”

“Darling, we’re in a whorehouse. I assure you they’ve heard worse.”

Nym makes a wordless, amused sound. “Well, if you ever find yourself curious or—” she gives Astarion one last scrutinizing once over and looks at you again “—unsatisfied, you know where to find me and my brother.”

Before you can politely decline, Astarion chips in on your behalf, “Trust me, she’s not.”

He steers you toward the door—I’m never going to look at a silly piece of fruit the same after this—and you don’t miss how he sends the twins a withering stare right before he joins you on the street.

He’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky. 

You stare at the back of his head as he walks in front of you, bulky pack slung over his shoulder with the books and scrolls you bought earlier, deciding whether you should join him or leave him to his thoughts.

Karlach nudges your shoulder. “Trouble in paradise, soldier?”

“Not really.” You bite your lip. “Should there be?”

Her gaze follows yours to Astarion, and she hums in understanding.

“If you stare at his back any longer, you might burn a hole through it." Heat crawls up your neck, and you try to give her a shove when Astarion looks at both of you over his shoulder, but she doesn't move an inch and laughs instead. "He’s probably upset over finding another pebble in his boot again. Don’t sweat it.”

An unreasonable suggestion, for you know it’s more than another pebble.

He doesn’t say anything once you all reach camp, nor does he give you even the slightest acknowledgment when you walk by his tent on your way to bed or look up from his book—no hello, my sweet readily waiting on his tongue—when you slip a little note under his nose. 

It’s starting to give you the sneaking suspicion he’s upset with you—though you hardly have the faintest idea why.

You’re pulled awake by the quiet, careful shifting of your blanket as someone slips into your bedroll behind you. You stare blearily at the barn's wall, trying to blink away the disorienting feeling still clinging to you like dew on a humid summer day. 

It’s the first brush of sharp incisors against your throat that erases the last vestiges of sleep altogether.

Ah, so he read your note.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you whisper, aware enough to remember the other two people sleeping in the barn with you.

“Have I?”

“You know what I mean.” You tighten your grip on your blanket. “You’re upset, aren’t you?”

He kisses the tender spot below your ear. “I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”

“But you’re unhappy.”

Your breath hitches when his tongue flicks out to taste your skin. 

“Yes, I’m unhappy.”

“Was it because of what that drow said?”

“Hm, be more specific.”

“When she—with the peach.” You squirm a little, a mouse blessedly caught by the tail. “You know.”

His chuckle is soft, faintly mocking.

“Oh, darling. You think I’m jealous?” He runs a thumb over the fluttering pulse in your neck. “How cute.” 

And right before he applies the smallest amount of pressure—

“Well, you would be correct.”

When Astarion works at the laces of your pants, loosening them just enough to slip his hand underneath, you jump at the first cool brush of his fingers tracing across your heated skin. Your muscles jump, jump, jump under his touch, goosebumps prickling along your arms when his hand fits suddenly between your legs. Two soft pats that make you gasp.

“Drippy,” he murmurs. You don’t think your face can get any hotter.

Then he’s hooking two—fuck, three—fingers into you, splitting you open, curling up toward your belly; you can’t bite back the moan that breaks free.

“Hush, pet.”

Nipping at your neck, he scissors his fingers, smiling at your choked, stuttered gasp.

“Do you think I’d let anyone see how you fall apart with a few quick strokes of the fingers? How you sound? How you taste?” 

The questions are followed by his thumb pressing into the achy spot at the apex between your legs, and you don’t mention that he’s doing this with two other people sleeping soundly on the other side of the room. 

“This—” his fingers curl inside you, pressing until he finds soft flesh that makes your legs jerk. “This is all for me—mine—wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod slowly, hand clamped over your mouth to trap the sounds that keep escaping.

“Good, so we understand each other then.”

Your thighs tremble around his wrist. His fangs drag across the thin, breakable column throat, almost like a warning, catching at two identical scars that haven’t fully healed since you’ve let a feral, lost little vampire into your camp before he gives in and bites.

Digging in—messy—you imagine the dribble of red down his pale chin, how he sometimes leaves it there to savor later.

You’re limp and floating in a matter of seconds, your mind blissfully quiet for the first time in days.

“Remember that, darling, the next time someone starts giving you ideas.” After a moment, he whispers: "But I'm also happy you said no."

And he slips out of your bedroll without so much of a creak in the floorboards and out of the barn as if he was never there.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND?!

Pairings: George Weasley x Fem!reader Summary: you and George found Ron jerking off to you Warning: mention of jerking off. Note: requested by @lillisummers BASED IN OOTP

you sat between Fred and George at dinner as George poured you a cup of juice, he sat down and kissed your head before taking a sip of your cup

"ay, use your own cup" you whispered, trying to be quiet as the room fell silent

he smiled and looked forward, at harry, who's now holding the daily prophet

"he's been attacking dumbledore as well...fudge is using all his power, including his influence of the daily prophet to..smear anyone who claims the dark lord has returned" Sirius stated

your hold George's hand at the mention of the dark lord by instinct.

"why?" Harry asked

"the minister thinks dumbledore is after his job" Remus interjected, sitting in front of Harry

"but that's insane, no one in their right mind could believe that would of..." Harry began, being cut off by Remus

"exactly the point! fudge isn't in his right mind, it's been twisted and warped by fear" Remus nodded "now fear makes people do terrible things, Harry, the last time voldemort gained power, he almost destroyed everything we hold most dear..."

you looked over and George smiled sadly as he gave your hand a squeeze

you leaned into his side and closed your eyes, feeling his warmth

"now he's returned, and i'm afraid the minister will do almost everything to avoid facing that terrifying truth" Remus trailed off

"we think voldemort wants to build up his army again..fourteen years ago we had huge numbers at his command, and not just witches and wizards, but all manner of dark creatures. he's been recruiting heavily and we've been attempting to do the same, but gathering followers isn't the only thing interested in" Sirius explains

mad eye clears his throat, trying to make sirius stop talking, to which he doesn't

"we believe.." Sirius starts again, making Molly stop cutting the vegetables at the end of the table. you opened your eyes, feeling goosebumps form on your arms, having a chilling feeling

"voldemort may be after something" the long haired man said

"sirius" mad eye warned

"something he didn't have last time"

"you mean..like a weapon?" Harry questioned

Sirius opens his mouth to say more but Molly buts it

"no. that's enough, he's just a boy!" she exclaims, coming over to harry, taking the prophet away "say more and you might as well induct him into the oder straight away"

"good! i want to join. if voldemort's raising an army, then i want to fight!" Harry fought, making sirius clap his hands and lean back in his chair

"no, no, you've encouraged this sirius! it's not safe for him!" Molly scolded the Black

"is it just me or are you hungry too?" George whispered, taking your attention away from the adults

you looked at him and smiled "starving, what about you Fred? you hungry?" you looked over at Fred, who snickered

"why did mum bring us down for dinner when it wasn't even ready?" he wondered

"i was thinking the exact same thing" George huffed with a smile, throwing his arm over your shoulder before starting a conversation.

you looked at Fred but noticed Ron, sitting on the other side of him, staring at you.

though he didn't seem to notice you saw, as his eyes were focused a little lower. looking down at your chest.

you wouldn't say you were wearing a revealing shirt, but it did show a bit of cleavage

you raised your eyebrows at the boy as he finally looked up at your face

his eyes went wide as he realised you caught him and looked away, his face beet red

you shook your head and lifted the shirt up ever so slightly

Molly got fed up with Sirius and walked back to the food, ignoring him before angrily chopping the vegetables

"what did the broccoli do to her?" Fred joked quietly, making you and George snicker

George picked up your cup of juice and drank from it again making you sigh before slapping his chest

"drink from your own cup!" you sighed before leaning over taking his cup that has been left untouched but filled with juice and drinking from his cup

"oi don't drink from my cup" he huffed, trying to take it off you

"no, shove off, that's yours now, this is mine" you smile, moving the cup away, leaning away from him

"Fred get the juice off her" George pled, making Fred shake his head

"i'm not getting involved in your juice stealing" Fred leaned away

"ha!" you stuck your tongue out at George

"oh yeah? how about i pour the juice on you" he raised his eyebrow

you gasped and glared at him "you wouldn't!"

he smirked "i would"

he teasingly tipped his cup slightly, making you squeal

"shove off!" you giggled, leaning away, now leaning on Fred

"Fred help me!" you begged

"i'm not getting involved, but please don't get the juice on me" he chuckled

George leaned forward and teasingly tipped it again, messing with you "George, i swear to Merlin if you pour that on me" you squirmed as he wrapped his arm around you

"oh? what would you do?" he grinned

"i'll leave you" you stared at him warningy, but he didn't buy it one bit

"no you won't, you love me" he smiled innocently

"i do, but not right now" you whined

George gasped, faking hurt "wow"

"George, don't pour juice on her" Ron interjected

George leaned away from you and looked at his younger brother, sitting 3 down from him "aw, how sweet Y/n. ronikins here is looking out for you, he's on your side" George pouted at his brother, teasing him

you looked back at ron and found him staring at you again, making you feel weird, his eyes said something that made you feel a little..gross

--

you walked up the stairs hand in hand with George to talk to Harry, who had left the dinner table with Hermione ten minutes ago, probably to find Ron, who had left the dinner table well before them

"i think we just need to warn him s'all" George shrugged

"George, i think he already knows how dangerous it is, he's faced him before" you sighed, feeling sorry for Harry

"i know but he's still a kid" George huffed, walking to the first door to the left, Harry and Ron's room

"so are we" you tilted your head, not understanding his point

"but we're older, wiser" he smiled down at you

"oh you are anything but wise, George" you rolled your eyes, amused

"you're the best girlfriend, aren't you?"

"i like to think so" you grinned happily

George shook his head and opened the door, still holding your hand.

you looked up as George go ready to greet Harry- although, Harry wasn't there at all.

instead of the Potter boy, the youngest Weasley boy was sat on his bed, pants down to the knees as he pumped his cock at a fast pace, moaning as his head was thrown back in pleasure, clearly not noticing your presence

you quickly let go of George's hand and covered your eyes, turning around, trying to leave the room

"o-oh Y/n.." you heard Ron grunt, the sound of squelching getting louder

"what the hell?" George cursed in shock as you walked in to a wall on your way out, trying to get the image of a half naked Ron, jerking off

you heard Ron scream and shuffling of the covers

"what the hell! get out!?" ron yelled

you groaned in pain from headbutting a wall and turned around, reaching one hand for George, eyes still closed

George saw you reaching out and grabbed onto your waist, pulling you close to him

"were you seriously just jerking off to Y/n?" George asked, just as shocked as you were

"n-no" Ron stuttered

you peeked, seeing Ron fully covered by his blankets, his face as red as his hair

"We clearly heard you say her name" George frowned

"Whatever! Just leave!" Ron begged.

"You were wanking off to my girlfriend! That's your future sister in law dude! That's disgusting!" George exclaimed. Still in horror

Ron stayed silent. Feeling beyond embarrassed

"I mean come on. That's my girlfriend!" George scoffed

"I'm sorry!" Ron cried out.

You stood there in George's arms, Feeling a little uncomfortable

"Don't say sorry to me. Say sorry to her!"

Ron looked down. Not wanting to make eye contact with you

"I'm sorry" he sighed

"Now you're going to treat her with respect and if I catch you even looking at her the wrong way. Out come the spiders. Everywhere. I'm talking in your draws. Bed. Trunk, and on your face" George said sternly, making Ron nod vigorously. Still looking down

"Good" George scoffed before letting you go and taking you hand

"C'mon babe" he walks towards the door. Leading you out of the room

Once he shut the door. You looked at him and raised an eyebrow

"Future sister in law? What are you insinuating there, Weasley?" You smirked

"I think you know" he grins

"Oh yeah? It sounds like someone is planning on marrying me" you hugged him

"Oh shush. Now. Do you wanna go bleach your eyes?" He asked

"Oh yes please" you nodded happily

‐‐---------------------------------------------------------

[mew-ya]

hello everyone! i'm proud to share my halloween-themed fic for raven's (@swampstew) event, where writers all incorporated a costume + a character into a fic! at the end of the month on October 29th, there will be a vote to see who wins the costume contest! check out the other fics and get ready to vote when the time comes!

character: Charlotte Katakuri

warnings/notes: no warnings (SFW fic), so fluffy it hurts, non-gendered reader, gender neutral reader, reader is average human sized

length: 4,016 words

summary: Your employer, Charlotte Cracker, Minister of Biscuits, gives you a last-minute invite to the Charlotte family's yearly Halloween party. As a newer resident of Totto Land, you'd not yet been to one of the Charlotte family's reputed parties, so your curiosity led you to the foot of Whole Cake Island on the night of Halloween.

You’d heard the Charlotte family threw a party for every occasion. And based on your arrival at the foot of the great Whole Cake Island, Halloween was certainly no exception. Hosted by Big Mom herself, every candied and frosted structure was painstakingly decorated by Streusen and his team of chefs. The cakes lining the horizon were decorated in the colors black, orange, red. Creepily smiling bats, balloons in deep red, and cotton candy clouds of a deep blue filled the darkening sky, contrasted brightly against the orange sunset. Fake blood oozed from the frosted fences lining the cracker-laden paths that led you to the delicious town of Sweet City. The singing, dancing homies you’d grown accustomed to seeing were eerily silent, silence a rare and disturbing thing in the archipelago you’d come to reside in. You spotted a few homies who took the shape of gravestones, attracted by the only sound in the whole area beyond the plodding footsteps of other partygoers. The gravestone homies sang a dark dirge as they sullenly watched a shovel homie dig up a fresh grave. Even the juice river had been dyed red to look like blood, deep red reflecting on the horrible grins of the trees peering from the edge of the Seducing Woods.

Having once glimpsed the true darkness of Totto Land, you couldn’t help but wonder if its morbid, Halloween-themed makeover was the truest reflection of its nature. Memories flashed back to your initial arrival to the archipelago. You watched the man in front of you die as Big Mom’s Incarnation swiped the final months of his life as payment for his residency. Vivid memories of him collapsing to the floor with a final breath danced in your brain, followed by the hollow smile of the creature with its white glowing eyes. The creature you’d come to pay twice a year for your ability to live here.

You shuddered at the thought, shaking away the uncomfortable memories. You’d lived here for about 3 months, happily, but saw the hints of darkness creeping behind the picturesque frame of the candy-encrusted landscape…

--

Inside Whole Cake Chateau, the highest of extravagance was on full display. The smell as you stepped inside the massive cake building was perhaps the most memorable—powerful, luscious notes of candy corn, lollipops, gumdrops, marshmallow, chocolate all tickled your nose in unison yet each distinct. The large buffet table to your right was a mountain of confections modeled after zombie parts, skeletons, bat wings. The serving dishes were massive and well-stocked, an army of chefs and rook knights replacing every calorie taken from the table with finesse and speed. To your center, a red velvet chocolate fountain so large that it rivaled an Olympic swimming pool. Guests dotted every corner of the ballroom to your left, dressed from head-to-toe in expensive costumes of classic horror creatures, characters from the latest trends, jokes, and other displays of amazement and fantasy.

You recognized some of the partygoers, primarily from your work as a baker in the cracker bakery housed on Biscuits Island. Visitors from across the entire archipelago came to your workplace to place orders for customized cracker flooring—the area’s edible replacement for tile flooring. While most often you’d seen the Charlotte family’s aides and assistants placing orders at your workplace, some of them preferred to complete the work themselves. Charlotte Katakuri was one of them—an ominous figure he painted against the colorful showroom, tall, dark and quiet. But his attention to detail and patience with ordering the perfect set of cracker floors for each of his projects made you come to realize that there was more than meets the eye with him. He was a figure that intrigued you more than you’d care to admit, but you’d only ever seen him in a work setting. He was a person that you looked forward to seeing, though you held your feelings about him deep within—he seemed too perfect, too unobtainable.

Until today. The most extravagantly dressed you recognized as members of the Charlotte family, who were both the children of the land’s queen as well as its appointed politicians. Charlotte Smoothie stood out immediately, tall as ever, effervescent in a red and blue princely outfit, epaulets encrusted with rhinestones and a beautifully detailed sword laying at her hip, her hair in a low ponytail like a fairytale prince. Charlotte Compote was next to her in a vampiress costume, signature bowl hat filled with a deep red liquid like blood, hair adorned in a slick black wig, fangs poking from red lips, and a beautiful blood red gown, and they appeared to be discussing the décor in detail. Young children in a rainbow assortment of costumes swarmed around their feet, and given their appearances, you could only assume those were younger Charlotte children as they ran in circles at Compote’s feet. From a distance, you spotted a tall figure dressed as Frankenstein’s Monster chatting with a woman dressed as the Bride of Frankenstein, though most of their outfits were obscured by the crowd.

As you approached Compote, another regular of your cracker establishment, you heard Smoothie call out: “Katakuri!” and the Frankenstein’s Monster turned his head. You immediately saw that Katakuri’s skin was painted a pale green that made his pink hair, irises, and tattoo pop in contrast. Steel bolts were attached to each side of his head, and his mouth was covered, as usual, by a scarf, although this one was tattered and worn to fit the outfit. Before she could say anymore, Katakuri was there, crouching down and saying something to the children with a gentle, yet stern look in the eyes peering above his tattered scarf. The way they stopped and listened to him so intently was telling of their respect for him—could these be his own children? Ah, well. After he spoke to them, they became quiet and orderly, walking single file towards the pink candy spiral staircase leading up to the second floor. The woman dressed as his bride showed up behind him, cooing, “Oh Katakuri—you’re always so good with them.” With a nod of acknowledgement, he stood back up silently, and noticed you standing 15 feet from them, staring directly at him. He looked at you up and down, and blinked.

“You’re the one from Cracker’s bakery,” he uttered at you with the gentlest hint of a furrow in his brow. The woman dressed as Frankenstein’s Bride next to him grimaced, the wrinkles in her face scrunching to her brow as she failed to hide her frustration. You felt an ounce of hostility from her, and wondered if she had somehow noticed your fascination with Katakuri…

You nodded coyly in response and approached the group of large individuals, but before you could try to politely continue the conversation, you felt a smack on the flat of your back. A large figure leaned in next to you, grin penetrating a hole in the side of your face. “You made it! I’m so glad,” Cracker exclaimed a little too loudly in your ear.

Smoothie groaned, “speak of the devil…” and Cracker gave her a smirk as he acknowledged his siblings standing before him in a circle on the ballroom floor. You noticed Cracker wore a bordering childish lion costume with a mane created from craft paper. Compared to the other costumes, it didn’t make sense to you until you saw him later on in the evening next to the rest of the Wizard of Oz cast…Mont-d’Or in a scarecrow costume, Moscato in a tin man costume, and Poire in an adorable and well-crafted Dorothy costume. You had learned their names because they all stood together in a line to be judged at the costume contest you watched later in the evening.

The siblings bantered around you, discussing each others’ outfits, nearly forgetting you standing there, small in stature and already quiet to begin with. You craned your neck to follow the conversation going on in the air above you.

It struck you as a bit odd that Cracker invited you, one of many employees of his, to this party. There was no one else from your workplace you recognized. On top of that, the Charlotte family all in a single room was a party entirely on its own, without any need for additional guests. This party appeared to be much the same, thick with Charlotte blood, common folk mostly appearing in (Halloween-themed) serving garb, some friends and in-laws dotted between the unusual shapes and sizes of the Charlottes.

--

You mostly enjoyed yourself throughout the party, learning everyone’s names and becoming more familiar with Cracker’s close siblings. The woman Katakuri was with was named Brulee, though you spent most of the night averting your eyes from them, feeling awkward for having ever had a crush on him. Of course he had a wife, or a girlfriend, or whoever she was.

Instead, you paid attention to the costume contest put on by Perosperos and Charlotte Linlin. The contest’s comically large scroll full of rules that’d been penned throughout the years of their lives together as siblings was read through at the very beginning like a very boring educational speech. Poire explained to you that it basically boiled down to: “make your costume yourself, don’t use devil fruits, and anyone discovered cheating on either of those rules would be banned from participating in the costume contest forever.” After learning that, your eyes opened to the absolute craftsmanship of this family’s dedicated costumers. Even the worst costumes such as Cracker’s childish lion seemed less bad after considering the amount of work he had spent at a craft table, hot gluing whiskers to his hand-sewn furry hood.

You had come wearing a mummy costume, but it was store bought and nothing special. Just something cobbled together last minute in preparation for the party, so you had no reason to enter the contest.

There was no real prize beyond the ability to brag—but bragging rights were an incredibly important prize to the Charlottes, and doubly so when a party was involved. Even a cool woman such as Smoothie was swayed by its power, giving her all to craft the most beautifully detailed prince costume this year in the hopes of winning. A teenaged girl named Flampe was swarmed with chess knights all dressed up in the theme of her costume: a musician with all of her adoring fans. You weren’t really sure what popstar she was supposed to be—her skin was painted like a skeleton, hair curled densely, a large crown upon her head, heart shaped sunglasses resting on her head with an orange feather boa around her shoulders. She held a green guitar shaped like a shark that she never actually tried to play. Given how nearly everyone in the room watched her entrance and participation on the stage, you guessed it was someone famous.

Later on in the event, you noted that Katakuri and Brulee joined as a team with their matching Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein outfits. You wouldn’t have pegged Katakuri as the type to want bragging rights for anything, but the crowd’s response to them was incredible—for Katakuri in particular. Oven noticed your surprise. He leaned down to you and explained, “he’s been voted the most popular brother, after all. He’s cool, perfect, and utterly undefeated in battle.”

In the end, the costume contest voting boiled down into a popularity contest, as things so often do within the family’s politics. Charlotte Linlin, dressed in the most expensive and extravagant Queen costume, sat at the large chair behind the judge’s table and laughed her signature “mama-mama” when she counted the results. Flampe’s skeleton musician-themed group was the winner and she accepted the honor with the smallest amount of grace, followed by Katakuri and Brulee’s Frankenstein pair in second.

--

The party came to a close, its music dying down, the youngest children all retired to bed or gone home. You’d been invited upstairs into one of the many candy-rococo rooms in the upper echelons of the Whole Cake Chateau by Cracker, and sat on the floor with a grouping of older Charlottes and friends sitting in a circle, all laughing and chatting. Katakuri and the woman he was with were there.

You’d chosen dare. A bottle was spun in the middle of the group. Whoever it landed on would be the second player of 7 Minutes in Heaven—a game typically played by hormone-ridden teens looking to make out in a closet. But you were adults, joking around. You’d been recruited as the first player in a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven, which made you feel a bit uncomfortable—this was a party your boss invited you to, after all. You weren't usually a dare person either, but you’d never gotten to play spin the bottle growing up, so you figured why not. The gentle haze of an alcoholic beverage helped, too.

The bottle stopped. Of all the people in the circle, it pointed at Charlotte Katakuri. Brulee looked uncomfortable, but didn’t say anything—why would a married couple play this game? You thought to yourself. But in the single night you knew him, Perosperos was the one making up the rules, and he was a stickler for those.  You decided not to protest. Maybe you’d stand silently in the closet for 7 minutes with the perfectly terrifying Katakuri as he gazed down upon you in the darkness.

Words were exchanged, and you were both sent to the closet for 7 minutes of heaven.

You entered the dark closet, shuffling in and out of a multitude of large dresses belonging to Charlotte Linlin, the fabric nearly engulfing you. The door shut behind you both, and a voice rang out, “timer starts now! Don’t get too naughty, you two!” followed by Brulee’s audible groan.

You heard Katakuri audibly gulp above you. The feelings of shock and nervousness had blinded you to his expressions, so now that you were smashed together in the dark, you had absolutely no read on him whatsoever.

So you quietly asked, “Katakuri…?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Why did you—aren’t you married? Isn’t this weird?” but you were interrupted by a large gloved hand on your shoulder, sending a wave of nervousness in a whirlwind through your body.

“I am not married,” he responded, simply.

You gulped, biting your lip.

“But, Brulee…?” you responded in your head, but the words didn’t come out. Somehow, he heard you anyway.

“Brulee is my sister. She likes scary movies a lot, so we dressed up for the contest.” He changed the subject. “I think your costume is nice,” he gestured, withdrawing his hand on your shoulder to touch the fabric with a respectful tap of his finger, unable to point in the darkness.

“Wait, then whose kids were—well...Okay. Thank you,” and you laughed a little as you went along with him. “If you’re wondering, I didn’t make it. The mummy wraps came pre-stained.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t know you guys had all these rules. Hell, I didn’t even know there was a contest. I just grabbed something from one of the shops last minute. You did such a great job on your costume, I feel embarrassed for you to even have to look at me! Cracker didn’t even tell me about this party until the day before.”

Katakuri sighed. “Sorry.”

“What’re you apologizing for?”

“He invited you because of me.”

You didn’t understand what he meant. Katakuri continued.

“I…mentioned you once...” That revelation piqued your interest. He talked about you? Why?

Katakuri shifted his weight from one foot to another, causing some of the dresses around you to move. “Because I thought you were…cute.” The words choked out of him, you could almost feel the heat of his blushing cheeks radiating from above you as he spoke. He cleared his throat.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

An awkward silence filled the closet—he’d stunned you twice in a row, first with the truth about his relationship status, and second, that he’d requited your attraction. What to do?

Katakuri cleared his throat again, uncomfortable and trapped in a closet with his head nearly touching the ceiling, stuffed awkwardly against the shelf with the person he’d just admitted he liked. You wanted to respect his request to drop the subject, so you didn’t push it.

Following his earlier lead, you offered a compliment. “I like your costume too.” You lightly touched the thick canvas fabric of his baggy pants where they tucked into his heavy platform boots, outlining a patch stitched with wide embroidery thread. “You really made all this yourself?”

The leg under your hand shifted in its pants as Katakuri kneeled before you, pushing Big Mom’s hanging clothes surrounding you out of the way by sheer size of his frame. A protective arm rested on the floor next to you, and he uttered, “Yes. The rules are very explicit. You can incorporate basic, store-bought items such as shirts, pants, but they must be modified in some tangible way.”

“Is it okay if I touch?” you asked, not wanting to be too presumptuous. You continued, “I didn’t have much of a chance to look at your costume too closely, but it must be good if you won second place.”

“I worked hard on it, but I am not sure it was deserving of second place. You’re welcome to touch it.” The air felt less thick between you as the awkwardness simmered into a cool comfort.

You explored the details of his costume in the darkness, your hands small against the 16’ man’s frame. The large arm resting on the ground next to you was adorned in the sleeve of a thick blazer, artificially weathered by his own hands, its threads exposed and rough with rips and tears near the seams. Thickly woven patches were sewn into his entire suit using embroidery thread. The blazer was opened at the center to reveal his shirtless chest, and although you couldn’t feel it, you remembered how his skin had been carefully painted green around the pink tattoos, and how the juxtaposition of those two colors created such a bright and engaging contrast on his skin.

“Did you sew the patches with a machine? The detailing feels so even,” you asked as you felt the perfectly squared stitching, betraying the imperfect nature of the Frankenstein Monster.

“I sewed all of the modifications by hand, though the jacket and pants were something I had already owned. Have a couple of injuries on my fingers to prove it.” Katakuri replied as he twisted his wrist, opening his palm next to you.

“You? Injuries? One of your brothers told me you were undefeated. To think you’d been bested by a needle and thread…” Reaching down to his hand, you ran yours against his palm to the ends of his fingertips. He let out the lightest flinch when your hand pressed against a small needle injury at the end of his pointer finger.

“How the mighty fall,” he answered with a spark of amusement.

Resolving not to waste this private moment, he made a move.

Katakuri wrapped his hand around yours, and with the softest motion, pulled you in towards his body as he leaned his head down. You were close enough to him to feel the warmth radiating from his core. You swore you smelled a hint of fried dough. The ruggedly tattered scarf wrapped around his lower face tickled your skin as electricity grew between you and the seconds stretched into what felt like minutes. You were so close that you felt his breath on your nose, but the scarf stayed put as a barrier between you. You looked into the eyes you couldn’t see in the darkness, and yearned for the touch of his lips against yours.

Both yourself and Katakuri imagined the feel of each others’ lips pressed against skin, the taste, the touch, the smell—although you had no idea what his mouth looked like. He always covered it, so your imagination ran wild in the dark. You kissed the scarred and torn lips of the face you imagined in your head, then you kissed a mouth with sharp teeth so pointed that your own lips were cut in the process. Maybe he had big cute buck teeth under there that stuck through a pair of swollen lips. You kissed that too. Your imagination ran through the possibilities like a rolodex, and each was good, wonderous, and electric.

Meanwhile, Katakuri’s rolodex of imagined scenarios was not so idyllic. He imagined the multitude of ways in which you’d reject him, how you’d take his scarf from him and embarrass him, how you’d reveal the secret of his mouth to the entire world, painting a target on the backs of all his siblings. He remembered all of his past relationship failures, and most of all, he remembered the great bloody wound across his sister Brulee’s face as he stood there powerlessly. He froze.

The hesitation began to hang thick in the air like a fog, and you were nearly able to feel the discomfort circulating from his body. You weren’t sure what changed. Time had been dilating and you wondered how much longer the 7 minutes would last.

You took your chance.

You grasped his hand which held yours so gently but stiffly, and pulled it close enough to plant a sweet kiss upon the top of his painted knuckle. Underneath your lips, his body notably relaxed. The gesture brought him back to reality.

Katakuri’s eyes glinted with the color of the future, where he saw the moment the door opened to light, just moments away. In a flash, he pulled your hand through his scarf to his lips and returned the kiss so quickly that you could hardly process what might be under there by feel. He then stood straight up and gave you both a once over that lasted no more than a single second, any hair or mummy wrapping out of place put in its proper configuration by the quickest swipe of his finger. As if nothing had happened.

The door opened.

His siblings joked, poked, prodded, and laughed at what they thought may or may not had happened between the two of you. He spent the rest of the night avoiding your eyes, as if nothing had happened. Eventually, his siblings dropped the subject. Deep down, they were rooting for Katakuri—most of the older Charlotte children had already been married, through virtue (or iniquity) of arranged marriage. But perhaps the strongest and most perfect Charlotte, intentionally held from the world of political marriage, would be allowed to pick his own partner.

The party moved on. Other games were played, other topics broached, other siblings bullied and jested and the family was having a great time. Katakuri thought he’d gotten away with keeping up his perfect illusion that he’d kept his distance during the closet game, but sometime later, his eyes widened at you like plates, face turning red under his scarf, burning through the green face paint. He observed his hand and saw a hardly noticeable kiss mark on his knuckle. It’s already too late, he thought to himself.

Seconds later, Cracker’s burst of laughter turned the entire room to your face.

“Hold on, hold on! Your lips are GREEN!”

“GREEN?!”

“What did those two get up to…?”

“Katakuri! You DOG!”

Brulee looked concerned and attempted to play interference by standing between you and Katakuri to block the line of sight. She’d grown to be very protective of him, knowing that his hidden heart was kind and undeserving of the expectations those had thrust upon him. While she knew he was truly not the perfect being the world had decided him to be, she would do anything to help him protect that because it is what he had chose.

Despite Brulee getting in the center of it, the chatter raged on, the rumors spread, and you gained some kind of reputation. Your eyes met Katakuri’s as he leaned over Brulee to look at you. You furrowed your brows at each other.

The start of a beautiful relationship…

[arabaka]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ gojo satoru x fem! reader. CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ !!! sex in his office. creampie. slight belly bulge. cum eating. 1 use of princess. WORD COUNT: 1.08k PSD CREDIT !!! MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI or YOU WILL BE SENT TO THE SHADOW REALM !!!!!!!!! （ ꐦꉺωꉺ)つ

*₊˚💬୧ this is actually an oldish piece i found in my docs that i wanted to reformat aha... >__> mixed feelings abt it but FUCK IT WE BALL !!!!!

“I’m going to be late for class, you know.”

His warning falls on deaf ears as you remain seated on his lap, continuing to minister loving, desperate gyrations with him deep inside you. “I don’t remember asking.” You breathe hotly in his ear, nibbling his lobe just as you drop your hips back down his throbbing member. His laugh becomes shaky with every bounce, guttural moans quick to take their place as your tight walls hug his thick cock, your juices trickling down the underside and dripping onto his slacks. 

Despite his frequent (and dangerous) trips being a constant in your relationship since Day 1, you consistently met him with the same carnal, needy nature. And each time, he melted in your touch, feeling high just from how badly you missed him.

"Fuck– Toru…" Ecstasy ricochets throughout your body when Gojo's hands clamp down on your hips, fingers boring themselves into your skin but he follows your rhythm– he doesn't want to end your rendezvous so soon. Classes be damned.  

Gojo smiles proudly as he watches you throw your head back, eyelashes fluttering together tightly while you busy your middle finger, tracing circles around your clit. "You look so fucking good." He just can't tear his gaze away from you, wanting to sear every inch of your body in his memory.  Craving more of you, he peppers your jawline with plenty of kisses while whispering against your skin, “Think about you all the time while I’m gone. Miss you, miss being inside you.” The last part comes off as a growl, a sign he’s losing restraint.

With every pump, you’re jerking his foreskin up and down his shaft and treating his tip to the rich depths of your treasured pussy and it’s driving him insane. 

“Ah, ah– Toru!” The next thing you know, he’s got both hands tightly gripping your ass while he rises to stand. He gets a few ragged thrusts in, already intoxicated by the delicious way your tits bob up and down with every push, before abruptly lowering you to his desk. The clatter of miscellaneous office items fill the room but the mess doesn't even come close to covering the sounds of wet skin slapping skin and your hungry pants.

He’s pushing your knees to your chest, wanting to see his cock mercilessly fuck your pretty little cunt. The smell of your sex is singed on his nostrils, driving him to only want more and more and more. And you’re begging for more, because of course the lover of the famous Gojo Satoru would be able to handle all of him and then some. He’s beating every please, every moan into you, cock pulsing within your taut walls with raw, intense power. He sloppily runs a hand away from your knees and to your cheek, forcing it to squish against your eyes. He wants you to cry more. 

Gojo grunts, ramming deep, hard, and rough into your sopping wet cunt, moaning again when you whine at volumes that would surely raise eyebrows. He rubs his face into your outstretched palms while you sputter some sort of languished prayer, "Pl– Please Satoru… Take it off…" His blindfold slides off him almost too naturally as he glides toward you, planting his lips on yours after you so graciously part your legs for him. 

Your kiss is sloppy, spit dribbling down the sides of your mouth as he pushes his tongue inward all while continuing to stuff your pussy. Your hands drift down to his arms, grabbing him with fiery intensity. You interlock your legs behind Gojo's back, toes curling involuntarily as the head of his shaft continues to plunge deep into your cunt right where your most sensitive nerves were. You’re whining into his mouth, shaking like you’ve been left out in the rain and this is your first foray into heat. He can feel you pulling him closer, deeper until he's up against your cervix. Your eyes pop wide open although you swear he's fucking you blind as you can't even begin to focus on anything but his member desecrating you from the inside. 

"Gonna fill you up to the brim," He mumbles between husky groans, "Need to see you with my cum." To this, you nod quickly and your eyes follow his hand as he draws a line down your chest until pressing his palm on your lower abdomen to feel the faint outline of his cock running down your hot, clenching walls. 

"S-Satoru! Please, I need– need to cum!" Your pleading is met with a smug smirk on Gojo's part as he cooly responds, "Are you asking me or telling me?" 

He gets his answer, though not with words. In record time, you cage him with your thighs as your pent up release washes down his shaft and drips onto the desk's cherry oak surface. His name rolls off your tongue repeatedly while waves of pleasure rock your entire body, your back attempting to arch under Gojo's firm hold.

"Fuck– okay, fine." Now it's on; disregarding the status of your twitching cunt, he rocks deep and fast into your ever tightening walls. "Gonna fill you up, princess." His pace becomes ragged and sloppy, like a trapped animal finally tasting freedom. You’re just a vessel of lewd and wet heat and after cramming himself against your cervix for several more pumps, he feels his balls shake and tighten right before shooting his reserved, hot cum inside you. His chest drops in a heavy exhale, the sorcerer feeling the relief instantaneously. Even just the twitch of his cock while he empties his load has you seeing heaven, your oversensitive clit throbbing at the sensation. 

He has a hand at the base of his shaft when he pulls out and he smacks remnants of his cum on your tummy, licking his lips at the delicious sight. But the real delicacy was watching his seed pool at your entrance, even your folds quivering at the moisture. He wipes a finger up your cunt, feeding his cum to you and you oblige eagerly, supple lips wrapping around his digit and sucking with salacious thirst.

"Good girl." He praises you earnestly before popping a kiss to your mouth, brain buzzing at the taste of him on your tongue.

His azure gaze flickers to the clock hanging above his office door and he clicks his tongue in mock disappointment, "Aahh, 5 minutes late." 

He's immediately looking back at you, lustful flames in his eyes when you comment, "What's another 5?”

[therealvinelle]

I can't justify it, but I feel like you have at least one really good recipes for soup!

My recipe is: Sautee half an onion, diced, in a pot with a tablespoon of butter and a tablespoon or so of thinly sliced celery until it all starts to sweat. Add three large peeled and diced potatoes. Cover with water and boil until the potatoes are soft and then smash with a big spoon or a potato smasher. Add salt and pepper to taste, reduce heat to a medium, chop in some kind of white fish (halibut is best but so pricey), and wait until fish is falling apart and fully cooked (about 20 minutes). Garnish with whatever you'd like, but heavy cream and little bits of bacon can both kick this up a notch. This is anon's fish chowder recipe!

Oh I have many, it depends on what you want.

How about, to celebrate Norway's Minister of Health and Care Services being found guilty of plaguarism a few minutes ago (I'm STOKED), we do a celebratory recipe.

Minor warnings for awkward language as I rarely read English cooking recipes and am not familiar with the linguistic conventions.

Mussels in saffron soup

You need:

2 kg mussels

2 dl dry white wine/apple juice

1 finely chopped clove of garlic

1 finely chopped shallot

Saffron

Parsley (optional)

Thyme

3 dl cream (the creamy kind! Not sure what product that would be in English. The kind you whip to get whipped cream.)

2 tbsp finely chopped chives (for decor)

All the quantities are optional, consider them guidelines.

Wash and scrub the shells. Steam them in white wine, remove from heat once they open. Keep the broth, and let simmer with the garlic, shallot, parsley, and thyme. Add cream, then saffron. Let thicken.

For the sake of not driving your guests to sticky fingered homicide: separate the mussels from their shells (if the shell is closed, very broken, or the flesh is so yielding it feels uncooked, discard the shell. White or pale color is completely fine, as are very small or very large mussels) and serve in a bowl with the soup, keeping a few empty shells for decoration and scatter the chives across the top for a finish. You then print a photo of Ingvild Kjerkol standing outside her house saying "It's not plaguarism, it's text similarities! That's what happens when you use similar methodology." to the entire country, and love life.

God appetitt!

[missadangel]

Little Bird in a Cage (Javier Peña x Reader)

Part 16: Pregnant

Gifs by jdmorganz - icegif

----------- All episodes here --------------

It was late evening when your father called.

He chose a very bad time, you'd just had after-dinner sex with Javi and it was amazing, you were still in bed, covered in sweat, cum, satisfaction, waiting for your breathing to settle.

To answer the phone, you sat on the bed, and had the longest phone call with him ever.

Javi slipped out of bed when he heard his voice on the phone, standing in front of the window with his back turned, lit a cigarette, yes, he had started smoking again recently, facing the truth that there really was such a thing as premarital stress.

Actually it wasn't the idea of marriage, you were both happy with to become husband and wife, to live together, but your father insisted that things should be a bit more his way.

Perhaps because he was a four-star minister and loves to give orders.

‘No, dad, of course that's not gonna happen!’ Javi turned his head and snickered at you, who looks and sounds like a little girl right now.

You frowned.

Getting married in Colombia wasn't an option and he didn't want it to be, the city you used to live in was still not safe, thanks to the drug cartels that still working tirelessly.

So you wanted to get married in Texas in a small wedding, but your father was angry that you didn't want a big ceremony. He also wanted it to be a cultural wedding, he wanted you to do all the Colombian customs, which made you angry, but it was very difficult to convince him.

When the phone call ended you hung up the receiver and sighed, did it really have to be so hard?

‘Dad's got me cornered,’ you said as you got out of bed and approached Javi.

He put out his cigarette and turned towards you. ‘Don't worry baby, he'll come round eventually.’

‘You think? He wants a big church wedding, plus with all the Colombian traditions,’ you sighed, “that's a lot of stress and I don't even want to think about the media, they'll want to cover a day like this,” you buried your head in his bare chest.

He wrapped his arms around you, ‘If that's what he wants,’ he murmured as he played with your hair. “Maybe we should do this.”

You lifted your head to look at him. ‘Would you really do that? Doesn't it bother you?’

He smiled, ‘Why should your traditions bother me? After all, you're going to be my wife at the end of the day, aren't you? Mrs. Peña?’ his lips rubbing your ear.

You giggled, it was so nice to hear that word from him. You raised your hand to check the diamond ring you wearing on your left finger. “Yes, I am.”

-----

Fortunately, Mexico and Colombia were very similar culturally. The language, the food, the dance, the wedding customs, and apparently even the fathers. As a Mexican-American, Chucho insisted on following Mexican customs, as did your father.

So you tried to convince them to have a bicultural wedding. Your father coming to Texas tomorrow to discuss the details and to meet your future father-in-law.

You had been feeling very tense and tired lately, and the wedding had been on your mind a lot. You had almost forgotten what day it was, so you were surprised after breakfast when Chucho changed the calendar page on the wall to the May.

Javi has been back from Washington for over two weeks. That meant your period should have started a week ago. And you'd never been this late before. Javi leaned across the table to you as you froze, fork in hand.

'What's wrong, why aren't you eating?

You smiled at him, 'Nothing, just,' avoiding eye contact, you looked down at your plate to eat the rest of your food. ‘Please don't worry anymore cariño, we'll talk about it together when your father comes.’

‘I know, Javi, can we go into town today?’

He finished his orange juice, got up from the table and came over and kissed the top of your head.

‘Of course we can, we have to do shopping anyway, Chucho is going to visit Andre today.’

Andre was in state care and Chucho wanted to adopt him, but the procedures taking time. Suddenly you felt excited thinking what a good grandad Chucho would be, but you didn't want to think about it until you were sure.

So you had to go to the pharmacy in town to buy a pregnancy test, you weren't sure how to do it without Javi noticing.

But it was impossible, he never wanted to leave you alone after what happened last time.

‘Every time I leave you alone something happens to you, wherever you're going, we’ll go together,’ he said as he parking the car.

That's why you decided to tell him, but it was a pain in the ass, the possibility of you being pregnant before the wedding and God forbid, your father finding that out. And the feeling that you were definitely not ready to be a mother yet.

Why is everything so complicated.

You stopped in front of the pharmacy, ‘Javi I'm -’

Just then, Javi's tía Sophia was approaching from down the street.

You both panicked, not only she has been bombarding you with questions since she heard about your engagement, but it would have been a disaster for her to see you with a pregnancy test in your hand.

‘Javi...’

He grabbed your hand. 'Fuck, let's run, baby,' he pulled you around the corner.

As you ran together, you looked at each other and laughed mischievously. After a short distance, Javi pulled you into the back of a store and you leaned against the wall to catch your breath. Standing right in front of you, he looked at the direction you ran from, panting.

'I think we're safe,' he smirked.

You gasped in relief, he put his hand on the wall next to your head, kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, you couldn't help it, it had become a habit to do that every time he kisses you.

But this was the middle of the street, people were walking by, looking at you and laughing, Javi pulled back, a mischievous look on his face.

'Now that we've given the town another rumor mill, shall we go home?'

You chuckled, "We're moving soon anyway, so fuck it.'

Javi laughed out loud, he couldn't help laughing every time you used foul language.

While the two of you were walking down the street, someone called your name and you turned around. It was Juan, he must have seen you passing by the shop.

'Oh hello, how are you? Javi, this is Juan,' you looked at him allusively.

Javi raised his eyebrows, then looked at him closely, this time frowning.

'How you doin?' they shook hands. You could tell right away that Javi didn't like him by the way he looked at him with a pursed lip.

'Nice to meet you," then he turned to you. "You left one of the paints you bought last time in the shop, I wanted to give it to you.' 

'Thank you,' you said with a smile. I haven't even started yet, it's been a busy week.’

'Yeah, I heard about all, you ok now?'

'Thanks, I'm fine.’

'Actually, since I bumped into you, I was wondering if I could ask you for something, I need some help with this painting I'm doing,' he pointed inside.

‘Sure,’ you went in quickly.

Javi put his hands on his waist, frowning. You looked at him and waved your hand, beckoning him.

Juan sat down in front of the painting and you sat down next to him.

Javi narrowed his eyes as he walked in, taking a quick look around, but his eyes were on you. Leaning against one of the shelves, he crossed his arms and watches you as you grabbed the brush, working on the painting.

Juan touched your hand as you showed him a few things on the painting with the brush. Javi tensed up, he didn't like another man touching your hand so easily, but he didn't want to be rude so he waited patiently, finally when you were done you stood up, but it was fast, suddenly you got dizzy and sat back in the chair. Juan put his arm around you. ‘Are you all right?’

That was too much, Javi pushed his arm away a little roughly. I'll take it from here, man,' he said and helped you to your feet. 'You okay, cariño?' he wrapped his arm around you this time.

You nodded, 'Yeah, just, my head is spinning, maybe because I'm hungry,' you put your hand on your head.

‘Come on, let's get something to eat,' he said as he led you out of the shop.

Looking over your shoulder at Juan, you waved goodbye, but you couldn't turn around, Javi's arm wouldn't let you.

---

The next day, the day your father arrived, you and Javi wanted to go to the airport to meet him, but since he was still a minister, there was a small official welcoming ceremony. So you went to the hotel to meet him in the embassy suites in Laredo, he was going to stay in the room reserved for him.

As soon as you saw him, you ran to hug him, you missed him so much. He wiped away your tears and scolded you for crying, then told you he had a surprise for you, and you were delighted to see Caroline and Dolores following close behind.

You and Caroline hugged and laughed. When Dolores pursed her lips you hugged her too, you really missed them so much.

You had dinner at the hotel restaurant and talking about everything. Javi and your father talked mostly about work, and you were annoyed that he still called him 'Agent Peña'.

"Dad, why don't you call Javi by his first name?'

'Well, hmm, Javi, I'll have to get used to that,' he frowned.

'Maybe in the future you can call him son,' you said with a grin, blinked at Javi.

Javi decided to take a sip of his drink instead of reacting.

'We'll see about that in time, missy,' he rolled his eyes at you.

Javi was no different, still calling your father sir. You smiled to yourself, sure he would call him by his first name later.

Everything was so new, and you believed that marriage would develop the relationship between the two families in time.

It had to be.

After dinner, while Javi and your father were still talking in the hotel lobby, you asked permission to go out with Caroline. Javi didn't want to be alone with your father, you could see it in his eyes, so he asked for permission to take you wherever you wanted to go, and fortunately for him, your father was tired and has long diplomatic phone calls to make, so he retired to his room. But you wanted to be alone with Caroline, so Javi dropped you off near the shops. He'd be back to pick you up later.

'I loved it here,' Caroline smiled as she looking around the shops.

'Caz, we need to get to a pharmacy first, help me,' you tugged at her arm.

Noticing pharmacy was very close.

'What's wrong?'

'I need a pregnancy test,' you whispered in her ear.

She opened her eyes wide. 'What? Shit, Is it really your test this time?

'Yeah, let's get the test, I have to do it now and make sure asap.'

You got the test and rushed back to the hotel, ran into Caroline and Dolores' room. You bought three, just to be sure.

And they were all positive.

'Dios mio!' Dolores' voice startled you, she has seen the tests when she entered the room.

'Shh,' you shushed her, your father's room was right next door, the last thing you needed was for him to hear.

'Oh my God, you're pregnant,' Caroline said as she hugged you happily. Then her smile faded, expression changed to worried. 'Oh my God, you're pregnant and you're getting married soon.'

'I know,' you mumbled.

'Cariño, don't worry,' Dolores sat down next to you and put her arm around you. 'It's nothing to be upset about. It's a gift from God.’

You didn't know how to react or what to think, of course it was a gift, but the timing was wrong, at least you thought so. You stood up and started pacing nervously.

‘How am I going to tell Javi? What about my dad? Will I be able to get into the wedding dress? We need to get married asap, before anyone finds out, and Javi was just starting his new position at work. Are we ready to be parents?’

Caroline grabbed you by the shoulders. ‘Honey, calm down, sit. Of course you're ready, don't worry, everything will be fine. And Javi will be so happy, believe me.’

‘You think so?’ You were getting more worried than happy. You didn't feel ready to be a mother, but you had to. You blamed the contraceptive pill you couldn't get from the pharmacy that day. But then you gave up, it was already done.

‘What kind of a mother am I going to be if I can't even take the stupid contraceptive pill in time?’

Caroline hugged you as you added sobs to your tears.

‘Come on, of course you'll be a great mom, but don't think about that now. Should I tell Javi or?’

‘No, I'll tell him, but I need to clear my head until he comes to pick me up.’

‘Okay, sure, if you need us we’ll be at lobby,’ Caroline gave you another hug and left the room with Dolores.

----

You opened your eyes with a sudden urge to pee.

Were you asleep?

This is very strange, you thought, remembering why, and took a deep breath. You were still alone in the room. You looked at your watch to check the time, you couldn't believe you had been asleep for two hours.

Javi should have been here by now, you quickly washed your face and left the room, feeling ready to tell him.

When you came into the lobby and you saw him, your heart started to race with excitement, but it wasn't new thing, you feel the same way every time you saw him. How could you love him more and more every day? But you did, and you were sure you would feel this way forever.

Caroline was the first to notice you, "Are you feeling better?

Yes," you said confidently.

Javi turned his head, got up and came to you.

'Are you okay? Caroline said you were tired, have you been walking a lot?' You blushed as you put your hands to your face, wondering how to say it.

Your father called you over, 'Honey, we've set the wedding date, come, sit down.'

'Your dad is thinking the end of the month, but I...'

'What? That late?' You interrupted Javi. 'Three weeks is a long time,' you sat down, pursing lips.

Your father frowned. 'That's a bit eager for a bride-to-be, don't you think, what's the rush?

Javi grinned as he sat down next to you and looked up at you, wondering what your answer would be.

'I, I just don't want to wait, waiting means more stress for me, that's why,'  Javi grabbed your hand when you sounded tearful.

"And I should become US citizen asap," looking at Javi, blinked at you.

"Yes you should," he mumbled.

There was silence for a while and Caroline moved closer to him.

'It's normal to be stressed because all the traditions will be fulfilled, sir, isn't there a chance that it could be a little earlier?'

Your father stood up and crossed his arms behind his back, it was his thinking pose. You looked over your shoulder at Caroline and thanked her with your lips, mouthing.

'I thought you'd be more stressed,' Javi whispered to you, 'so I'm actually the one who extended the time.'

'No, I'll tell you why when we're alone,' you whispered back.

Your father cleared his throat. 'Well, if you say so, next week, and we have to get ready asap, I arrange a planner.' his voice wasn't angry at all, you were surprised.

'Thanks, Dad," you said as you walked towards him wrapping your arms around. You wondered what his face would look like when you told him about your situation. But there was still time.

'I'll go to the reception venue with Pops tomorrow to book a date,' Javi said as he stood up.

You looked at your father in surprise. 'So the reception will be all Mexican, huh?'

He shrugged, 'Our traditions are very similar, honey, and our food will be served. And I wouldn't mind a mixture of cambia and salsa, would you?' He and Javi smiled at each other.

You felt as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. They had both agreed on this, it was a quiet relief.

----

On the way home, Javi noticed that you were quiet. You were still trying to figure out how to tell him, how he'd react. Would he be angry with you for not taking the pill, or would he be happy? Would he not look at you the way he used to? You thought about it all the way home, so you were surprised realizing you arrived home already. There were no lights on in the house, Chucho must still be in town. Javi opened your door and leaned in, his brown eyes locked with yours.

'Are you going to tell me what's going on? I'm starting to worry.'

'It's nothing to worry about actually,' you said with a smile. 'I was just thinking about your reaction and...'

He cut you off with a kiss and slipped you into his arms. You were almost out of breath.

'Maybe you need to relax, do you want me to comfort you?'

He kissed you again as he carried you inside, he was very good at it. He broke the kiss and laid you down on the couch and within seconds he was on top of you. He started kissing you again before you could even open your mouth, but you wanted to tell him right away. You broke the kiss and sat up on the couch. You cupped his chin in your hands.

'Javi wait a minute, I really need to say this.'

He pulled his face back a little, but he was still leaning against you, one arm resting on the couch and the other around your waist. His eyes locked with yours, you took a deep breath.

'I'm, I'm pregnant, Javi, there I said it,' you huffed.

He was silent for a moment, trying to process what he just heard, the silence was starting to make you nervous, but his lips curled into a half smile and he kissed you.

Then he pulled his head back and looked at your face, "You're sure, right?

'Three pregnancy tests, yes, I'm sure."

He laughed, his brown eyes sparkling with joy. 'That's great, baby, I don't know what to say, but that's more than great.'

'Really? I thought you'd be mad at me because it was so unexpected, but...'

He frowned. 'Mad? Don't be silly, you don't know how happy you've made me. I love you so fuckin much, you're the best thing that ever happened to me,' he wrapped his arms around you pressing you against his strong chest.

'I love you too, Javi. I love you so much.'

He loosened his arms to look at your face and then kissed you passionately. You weren't sure if it was the effect of this wonderful moment, but the sexual tension between you increased immediately. The deeper the kiss went, the more you wanted him.

As you pulled him closer with your arms wrapped around his neck, he slipped his hands under your dress to cup your hips. This gave you the opportunity to unbutton his shirt.

When you were both down to your underwear, he grabbed you by hips lifted you into his lap, you wrapped your legs around him. Without breaking the kiss he hurried into the room as your giggles echoed down the hall.

---

The next day, you and Javi had decided it would be a good idea to go to the gynecologist, so after breakfast you went down to the center of town. It was a small but busy clinic.

'Senorita Botero Llano?'

You stood up excitedly, Javi holding your hand and he was no different.

When you entered the doctor's room, she told you to lie down on the obstetric table. She set up the ultrasound machine and Javi stood right next to you, never letting go of your hand. You flinched as she put the lubricating jelly on your abdomen, then she started asking questions without looking at you as she gently presses the device against your tummy, moving it back and forth while checking the computer screen.

'When did you find out?'

'Two days ago.'

'According to the blood test, you're three weeks along, is this your first pregnancy?'

'Yes,' you said, looking at Javi who winked at you.

I mean, it's too early for us to see it here, but I can see the amniotic sac, if we zoom in a little bit, yes, there it is,' she said as he showed the unintelligible image on the screen.

Javi frowned, 'I don't see anything.'

The doctor laughed. 'It's only the size of a pinhead, it's an embryo, it will grow and develop.'

'Did you really expected to see a big baby?' you asked, laughing at him. Turned your head to check screen, 'It is so tiny.'

'It is, but we can hear its heartbeat,' the doctor said, saying something ordinary to her but surprising to you.

'Really?' you said excitedly, looking at Javi seeing him also excited.

'Sure, let's have a look,' the doctor turned a knob on the ultrasound machine to the right.

There was a small crackling sound, then a wheeze, then a heartbeat. A very fast heartbeat.

It was so beautiful.

The doctor looked at both of you. 'This is your baby's tiny heart saying 'hi'.'

You couldn't hold back your tears, it was an indescribable feeling, so beautiful, so mesmerizing, Javi wiped your tears and kissed you on your head.

There was not much to say at that moment, you kept listen.

'But it beats so fast," you said suddenly.

The doctor grinned, turned off the machine and turned to you. 'Honey, that's normal, newborns and even children have a faster heartbeat than adults.'

'Wow,' you murmured.

'Now I'm going to talk to you about a few things,' the doctor said.

Javi helped you to take off your hospital gown. Then you sat down on the couch across from the doctor's desk.

'You need to take the vitamins I prescribed regularly, you need to go to the emergency, if you'd have any bleeding, everything looks good now. The first three months are very important, please don't get tired and don't try to lift anything, stay away from stress, okay?'

You nodded.

'See, you have to stay out of trouble, best stay at home and don't go out,' Javi giggled.

You rolled your eyes. Then you remembered something that happened during sex yesterday.

'Is it normal for me to have breast tenderness, to want to go to the restroom all the time, and an increased libido?'

'Yes, it's all normal in the first trimester, as for sex, it won't harm the baby, there's no problem as long as it's not too rough.'

Your cheeks flushed. Javi looked at you out of the corner of his eye and grinned.

He was still snickering when you left the room.

I was worried that she would forbid sex. Luckily, she didn't,' whispering into your ear.

You elbowed him in the stomach, 'Cabrón.'

----

The next evening, your father came to his house to meet Chucho. 

After dinner, as you were discussing the wedding details, things got tense at times. They were talking so fervently even they didn't notice when you never touched the beer or kept going to the bathroom to throw up because of the smell of the food.

Javi kept an eye on you and tried to calm his father at the same time.

You and Javi wanted to tell them after the wedding, it was gonna be better thing to do.

When you went to the kitchen to get a drink of water -becasue you were thirsty as hell-, Javi came behind you.

"Did you take the vitamin? Didn't she give you medicine to stop you vomiting?" he asked in low tone.

"Don't worry, it's just the smell of meat. I feel better now."

"Whatever!"

You startled when you heard your fathers loud voice.

"Then so be it!"

You both turned your heads to look at those grumpy men in the living room.

"Thanks for having my daughter in your house all this time and taking care of her, by the way," your father looked away angrily.

"She's my daughter too, of course," Chucho said, also looking away, frowning.

"Daughter-in-law, you mean?"

"Whatever it is," Chucho murmured something in Spanish but mexican accent, probably cursing him.

You looked at Javi with a confused face, "Do you think they are insulting each other or thanking each other?"

Javi laughed. "Both."

At the end, everything worked out, it was nice that they were on the same side, even if they didn't like each other much. Your father excused himself when it got late and then came to you.

"You're coming with me, señorita."

"What? Why?"

"Because the wedding is in four days and you two shouldn't stay in the same house or should I say room. It's bad luck."

"Dad, this is ridiculous, no way I'm leaving!" your hormones made you angrier so your voice was loud. Javi grabbed your shoulder and tried to calm you down.

"Sir, let her stay tonight, we're flying to Washington tomorrow anyway, will check the house and buy furnitures and stuff. I'll take her to the hotel when we return."

It was true, Javi's buddy Steve has found a house for you in the same neighborhood so he and his wife has invited you over for dinner tomorrow.

Since there was no time left, you liked the idea.

"Okay then, but the night before the wedding you should definitely stay apart. "

"You're too superstitious for a minister," Chucho grumbled.

"Let's just say I'm traditional," he said, then turned to you. "I almost forgot, you need to find a godfather and a godmother."

"Yeah, right," you mumbled. Javi looked at you, "Los Padrinos and Madrinas," you explained.

In Colombian wedding traditions, there is no best man or maid of honor. Instead, the couple chooses a godmother and a godfather, and it can be anyone they want. In Mexican weddings, the couple chooses a padrino and a madrina, which means the same thing.

That's why, since neither of you had a very large family or were very close to them, Javi chose Steve as the padrino and you chose Caroline as the madrina.

All that was left was to tell them, and it has to be asap, the wedding was very near.

[kemetic-dreams]

Onesimus (late 1600s–1700s) was an African man who was instrumental in the mitigation of the impact of a smallpox outbreak in Boston, Massachusetts. His birth name is unknown. He was enslaved and, in 1706, was given to the New England Puritan minister Cotton Mather, who renamed him. Onesimus introduced Mather to the principle and procedure of the variolation method of inoculation to prevent the disease, which laid the foundation for the development of vaccines. After a smallpox outbreak began in Boston in 1721, Mather used this knowledge to advocate for inoculation in the population. This practice eventually spread to other colonies. In a 2016 Boston magazine survey, Onesimus was declared one of the "Best Bostonians of All Time"

Onesimus's name at birth and place of birth are unknown with certainty. He was first documented as living in the colonies in 1706, having been brought to North America as an enslaved person. In December of that year, he was given as a gift by a church congregation to Cotton Mather, their Puritan minister of North Church, as well as a prominent figure in the Salem Witch Trials. Mather renamed him after a first-century AD enslaved person mentioned in the Bible.The name, "Onesimus" means "useful, helpful, or profitable".

Mather referred to the ethnicity of Onesimus as "Guaramantee", which may refer to the Coromantee (also known as Akan people of modern Ghana). 

Mather saw Onesimus as highly intelligent and educated him in reading and writing with the Mather family (for context, according to biographer Kathryn Koo, at that time, literacy was primarily associated with religious instruction, and writing as means of note-taking and conducting business)

In 1716 or shortly before, Onesimus had described to Mather the process of inoculation that had been performed on him and others in his society in Africa (as Mather reported in a letter): "People take Juice of Small-Pox; and Cut the Skin, and put in a drop." In the book, African Medical Knowledge, the Plain Style, and Satire in the 1721 Boston Inoculation Controversy, Kelly Wisecup wrote that Onesimus is believed to have been inoculated at some point before being sold into slavery or during the slave trade, as he most likely traveled from the West Indies to Boston.

The variolation method of inoculation was long practiced in Africa among African people.

The practice was widespread among enslaved colonial people from many regions of Africa and, throughout the slave trade in the Americas, slave communities continued the practice of inoculation despite regional origin.

Mather followed Onesimus's medicinal advice because, as Margot Minardi writes, "inferiority had not yet been indelibly written onto the bodies of Africans."

[minecraftbookshelf]

The Morning After the Engagement: Rivendell Edition

AKA, Scott got betrothed for politics and now he is suffering

So this one won't actually be in the fic most likely, because plot-wise I don't want Scott and Xornoth to know what everyone else is thinking, but I thought this was funny and was told it was so here. Enjoy.

-

Scott opened the door to a hyperactive flurry of scarlet and rainbow feathers and immediately slammed it shut again on the intruder's foot. The pained yelp was very satisfying.

"Brother, your mistress is here," he shouted back into the house, yanking the door open again just in time to see a very scandalized minister of agriculture hurry away down the road towards the marketplace over Joey's shoulder.

The Emperor of the Lost Kingdom was hopping on one foot, his face screwed up while he clutched at the (now scuffed) heeled sandal that had given his toes absolutely no protection from the solid spruce door.

Once he became aware that Scott was looking at him he composed himself enough to sniff disdainfully and limp past him into the house.

"Xorny!" He smelled like warm humidity. Ugh.

Scott follows him back to the kitchen where Xornoth really looks as if they regret everything ever as Joey dramatically flings himself across a whole corner of the table, nearly knocking their breakfast to the floor. His wings trail through Scott's plate. Serves him right. Scott hopes the honey is hell to wash out.

Joey is already chattering a million miles an hour and it is way too early in the morning for this.

Scott doesn't make his escape quickly enough though because Joey rolls over so he's lounging on the table like its a piece of parlor furniture and gives him the brightest, smuggest smirk of a grin. "And here is the lucky bridegroom himself! You absolutely must let me help plan the wedding."

"Unfortunately we have several professionals who are already hard at work," Scott says in mock sadness. "And it would be an insult to them to remove them from the project."

Xornoth seems to be considering the merits of drowning themselves in their sweetberry juice. Scott squints at it and decides to risk freezing it over. The only possible casualty is Joey.

He successfully freezes Xornoth's juice. And Joey's right wing. And Xornoth's feet. Maybe he's not as okay about this whole thing as he's pretending.

Xornoth gives him a guilty look while they're slowly defrosting Joey's wing. "I should have talked to you first," They admit. "I panicked. I thought they'd try to bargain more."

"They think its some kind of rescue," Joey sniffs, immediately snatching both siblings' attention. He doesn't notice at first, intently preening through his newly freed (and damp) feathers. Eventually he does look up and rolls his eyes at them. "Oh come on. Surely you're aware."

Scott has no idea what he is talking about. Xornoth looks equally confused.

Joey sighs and flops back so he's leaning percariously off the edge of the table, wings draped down to the floor, shoulders held up by Xornoth's. "They think you keep Scotty here locked up in a dungeon or a tower or something and they see this as an opportunity to make sure he's safe from the big bad rebel king or whatever."

Xornoth makes a noise equal parts distressed and amused.

"What?"

Joey rolls his eyes again so hard he almost falls. "As far as they know you were exiled, came back, killed your parents and disappeared your little brother. From the outside it looks really bad."

He idly picks at his fingernails and peers over at Scott. "I'm pretty sure if it weren't for Katherine most of them wouldn't even believe you're alive."

Xornoth just blinks over at them both. "Do I really give off such strong Evil Dictator vibes?"

"You both have the social skills of a dead sheep," Joey says bluntly.

"Like you're any better," Scott mutters under his breath.

"I am a fucking delight. You two have the mutual dream of running off and becoming mountain hermits."

[jm-2406]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

-> sᴀᴍᴘʟᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ.

Summary - you are a newly appointed detective and have been given a task to catch the person responsible for attacks on James Barnes.

Pairing - rockstar!Bucky x detective!reader.

Word count - 950.

Note - reader has a younger brother and calls him ‘rabbit’.

Requests -> open || find my work -> m’list.

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N].” The automated voice from the speaker called her name, grabbing attention from almost everyone present in the cafeteria. [Y/N] quickly gulped down her glass of orange juice and rushed to the senior inspector’s office. She was dreading going inside. Some of her friends who have been called earlier, always came back in tears or angered. She didn't know what to expect.

“May I come in, sir?” As she stood in front of his desk, [Y/N] was a little relieved after seeing the neutral expression on Mr Watson’s face, he was not angry at her. But maybe that is a trap, to sweetly insult her. Her overthinking always got the best of her.

Mr Watson looked at her seriously for a few minutes, the longest two minutes of her life, then forwarded a folder towards her without saying a word. “Considering your track record, you might be the best choice here. Even though you are young, we think that it is a plus factor in this case.” He said and motioned his hand towards Ms Palmer, his usual case partner. [Y/N] smiled at her, she was such a kind lady and fiery when needed to be.

[Y/N] opened the folder and read the details. Her eyes widened after completing the file. She gulped nervously and looked up to voice out her thoughts but before she could, Ms Palmer smiled encouraging-ly at her. “I'm hoping you wouldn't disappoint us and back out, right [Y/N]?” She sweetly asked. “Also, consider this as a test for you, the earlier you solve it, the sooner you'll get your promotion.” Mr Watson continued and that put her in a big dilemma.

Her ringing cell phone caught her attention. It was her brother. [Y/N] quickly put it back and responded with a nod. “I accept, sir. Thank you for the opportunity.” Were her words before exiting the chambers.

-•-

The next day, she was waiting with her colleagues for the minister to come and address them, as instructed. But they were surprised by the unexpected arrival of his son. “I'm James, nice to meet you all.” He introduced himself but refused to say anything about the change of plans to the team. On top of that he started bossing around. This attitude frustrated [Y/N] to no end and she snapped at him, asking him the reason for his arrival instead of his father a little aggressively.

“You do know that your tone of voice may get you kicked out of the team, right?” James said in a saccharine voice though his words were full of bitterness. “You are going to work for me and this attitude will get you nowhere.”

“As if I'm dying to do so. Did you forget that it is you who is receiving threats? You need my help, not the other way around.” She sassed back.

The others present in the conference hall were a silent spectator as the back and forth between James and [Y/N] continued. It was clear that James, being the only son of the minister and a youth sensation, was not the one to tolerate someone using authority over him. [Y/N] on the other hand was on the quiet side but when provoked, she proved to be a thunderstorm. It was a deadly combination.

“You know what, see you in New York. I have some work to do. This isn't over Miss [Y/L/N].” James jumped up from his seat and was out of the room in a minute.

[Y/N] stared at his retreating figure in confusion. “We have to go to New York?” She asked no one in particular.

-•-

Reaching home, [Y/N] took in the messy sight of her flat and carefully walked the path to her bedroom. “Rabbit.” She called out and an annoyed voice answered her. “[Y/N]. Stop it. I'm not a little kid anymore, I'm 17.”

“You'll always be a little guy to me, rabbit.” She ruffled her brother’s hair and went to the kitchen, not before instructing him to clean the mess he created. Just after a few seconds, [Y/N] came rushing back and hugged her brother with all her might. The boy got startled and fell down along with her.

“You made dinner today. I am so happy and so proud of you my rabbit.”

Her brother blushed and dismissed the situation just like many other teenage boys. The siblings duo were having their dinner when [Y/N] decided to drop the bomb. “Rob, I need to move out of the town for some work. It's a high profile case.”

“When are you leaving then?” Her brother asked emotionlessly though he was feeling upset.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Upon getting no reply, [Y/N] mentioned the date of her departure. “It's important for me and taking up this case will be beneficial for us.” She tried to explain nervously but her brother had a mind of his own and did not bother to talk.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, her brother hugged her tightly. “I'll miss you. Can't you take me with you?” He whispered sadly. The love they shared was deep and it was difficult for them to be apart for so many days.

“I'll return as soon as possible, rabbit.” [Y/N] replied quietly and went to her room to pack her stuff, her brother helping her with it. She didn't know what to expect from the future but one thing was sure, this case was going to be life changing for her.

[autumnal124]

The Deipnon

What is the Deipnon?

The Deipnon is a lunar celebration of Hekate that occurs every new moon. During this celebration, homes were swept of their filth, ashes were cleaned from their fireplaces, thresh floors were replaces, etc… Offerings of food, normally consisting of bread, onions, and garlic were left at household altars called Hecataea. These shrines were placed at the entrance of the home. This is a reason why Hekate is associated with liminality, thresholds, and the three-way crossroads, as these entrances often lead directly to the road, forming a three-way pass.

These offerings would then disappear by morning as the poor would eat the Deipnon offering as well as stray dogs. This is one of the many reasons why Hekate is associated with dogs.

With some of the history of the Deipnon covered, let's get into my ceremony, and how I celebrate Hekate’s Deipnon.

Throughout the day fast and clean, drink only water and practice chastity. Sweep the floors and remove any filth in your home, remove trash, clutter etc… Open your windows! Those chores you have been putting off? Now is the time to do them. As you clean your home pray to Hekate Borborbophorba, for She is the Eater of Filth. Do these things as an offering to Her. Give up your garbage and dust to be devoured. Wash and groom yourself thoroughly. Offer the dirty water that runs off your skin. Ask Hekate Borborbophorba to devour it all, to devour your dust, your filth, those things that do not serve you. Wash your hands with khernips and asperse your home with it using a yew branch. Purify yourself by calling upon Hekate Brimo. Ask Her to direct her primal fire to consume you, to purify you as a forge melts and burns up the impurities in metal. After having undertaken these purifications you can now go before Her and perform Her Deipnon.

Procure a food offering of bread, onions, and garlic. Also bring a libation of wine or pomegranate juice. Go to a liminal place or a threshold at night, preferably midnight. Sprinkle the place with khernips and dust your hands with cinnamon. Lay out the offerings and circumambulate deosil thrice, pouring khernips. Place the offerings in the circle you have now formed and speak the following thrice.

“O double horned godess,

O queen of splendid night

She who lights the three way pass with torches fiery light

Hear me on this day, in these sacred hours

For I pray to you, the stable one, the mighty one

Hear me!

Arouse yourself for I am your priest and minister of good office, as Klotho has spun out her threads for you, so ascend blessed goddess

Behold me and attend this offering, this Deipnon, for I know the 28 shapes the supreme one, IAO hath formed so that you might complete every living thing in your splendor. APHEIBOĒŌ MINTĒR OCHAŌ PIZEPHYDŌR CHANTHAR CHADĒROZO MOCHTHION EOTNEU PHĒRZON AINDĒS LACHABOŌ PITTŌ RIPHTHAMER ZMOMOCHŌLEIE TIĒDRANTEIA OISOZOCHABĒDŌPHRA!

Come also with your troupe of restless dead. For you are called ATALOS, compassionate one. Atalos, allow those restless, who have not yet found their place beyond Kerberos and the adamantine gate to also quench their hunger and thirst.

But protect me, my space, and my belongings from their ravenous hunger and dry throats today and as you grow from obscurity into light, and once again come into the darkness. For you are called APOTROPAIA, the shield from harm.

Amen”

Leave this place at once and do not look back, lest you risk seeing the goddesses terrifying form. Know She is there, in every shadow, every crossroad, whether you sense Her or not. Honor Her as you honor the restless dead.

[david-goldrock]

A song I think anti-capitalist Tumblr is going to like

The following song is based on a real story

One day an ad producer called me Hello? The name isn't important And told me about a product relating to fruits What is its name? The name isn't important He said "write us a banger like your song" What song? Well the name isn't important This is how they talk, these guys they do not have a god (hebrew expression meaning a person who doesn't have a sense of morality or fairness) Hashem isn't important (hashem: hebrew expression meaning god, also "the name")

I hung up He called again Said "we'll film it abroad Jumbo" Eh... it's Jimbo I felt my spine becoming flexible For you, it's a very good exposure Well, let's leave the exposing for Ilana Dayan (A famous news anchor with a show exposing secrets) And we'll pay you I can't be bought 6 Figures SIX?!

There are some who call it just selling out And there are some who say it's a mitzvah to take a coupon There are those who don't even have the privilege to let it go There are some who go for it and don't care what people say There are some who call it the beginning of the end And some who say that it is for the family That producer just wanted a catchy song so that's what came out The fruits of success

In a week we had a banger An atmosphere of breaking the piggy-bank More trash than kardash (short for kardashian) Distorting like slash (This entire segment showes Jimbo's flexing, because he is a hebrew puritan, and uses english based words here) More catchy than "press on the 5" by direct insurance I sent him the song, I felt the laughter beginning to roll I packed a suitcase, tried on a bathing-suit And then the phone rang

Jumbo, there are no fruits in the song! What? Apharsemony Mushonov, Levi Eshkol of grapes? (Mony mushonov is a celeb, Apharsemon means Persimmon, Levi Eshkol is the name of an Israeli Prime Minister, Eshkol means cluster) You are talking Trigonometry B My audience thinks in single digits What happened what happened what happened, did you forget how to write? Hear, I am coming to this with an open mind And? But I have principles as well, ha? Principles? It's a matter of wording

There are some who call it just selling out And there are some who say it's a mitzvah to take a coupon There are those who don't even have the privilege to let it go There are some who go for it and don't care what people say There are some who call it the beginning of the end And some who say that it is for the family That producer just wanted a catchy song so that's what came out The fruits of success

There are no fruits and no hadar (both citrus and splendor) in a sugar drink That splendors itself with the title "Orange flavored" (In Israel, if a product contains 100% orange it can be called juice, if it contains at least 25% it can be called orange nectar, and anything less is orange flavored) And there are pills that are too bitter, even with the sweeteners And yes today I raise a shot of juice for all of those winners Who prefer Lehachmitz (both "to miss on" and "to sour") a supposedly sweet opportunity Than Lehachmitz their face

[mademoiselle-red]

Deep within the grounds of the Wuhou Shrine in Chengdu, there is a cafe-souvenir shop called “The Prime Minister’s Cafe” with a three kingdoms themed drink menu 🍵☕️ and lots of cute three kingdoms souvenirs that you can browse and buy while waiting for your drink❤️

The cafe + courtyard where you can sit and relax after walking around the shrine and its various gardens and exhibitions

Note the Chinese opera themed prints on the lanterns hanging from the roof. They depict, from left to right: Jiang Wei, Ma Chao, Zhao Yun, and Huang Zhang (four major generals of the Shu-Han Kingdom)

An adorable poster featuring Zhuge Liang with the words: “The prime minister is inviting you to coffee”

The three kingdoms themed menu. Some highlights:

The very Cao Cao x Liu Bei themed “Green Plum Cooked Wine” which is an boozy iced coffee mixed with real plum wine

The “Burning Red Cliff”, which is an iced latte with Sichuan hot pepper 🌶️ (and you can customize the spice level to your liking)

The “Sun Shangxiang Lychee Americano”, an iced americano with lychee syrup

The “Blessing of The Chancellor”, which is the drink I ended up getting. It is a latte with pomelo syrup. Because the Chinese word for blessing (佑 you) is a homonym of the word for pomelo (柚 you)

The “Be Sworn Brothers”, which is a peach juice drink, for the peach blossom garden vibes

The adorable bookmarks and keychains from the souvenir shop 😍

[incorrect-maraudersaandco-quotes]

James: The year is 1985. Britain is thriving under the minister of magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, and tomorrow, Peter Pettigrew's getting married. Who's the lucky lady? Maybe she's an upbeat gal who's nuts about fitness. Remus: Maybe she owns a juice bar in Snerling. Marlene: Maybe it's Dorcas. Maybe I die...skydiving explosion. And then you go marry Cas. And it makes me sad, but if she's gonna be with somebody, I'd like it to be you. Peter: Strange, but sweet Marlene: Only I didn't really die. I was faking it. And I come back. I spy on you from my red Corvette. And I'm planning to kick your ass...but I see how happy you make her, and I have to walk away. I have to. And I do...slowly. In a rainstorm. James: Okay, this isn't really in the spirit of what we're trying to do- Marlene: But as time goes by, it eats away at me. You're out living it up with my wife. And I'm alone. In a cave. Training. James: Anyone else want to chime in? Marlene: I thought you were my friend! I thought you were my friend!

[svtminji]

SEVENTEEN’s MINJI PROFILE

｡ ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ‣     BASIC INFO

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ NAMES ->

birth name — doi mizuki english name — mariana doi cortez hiragana — どい みづき kanji — 土井 瑞希

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ NAME MEANING ->

mizuki — from japanese, 瑞 (mizu) meaning "felicitous omen, auspicious" and 希 (ki) meaning "hope”. however, as a girl's name it is most commonly written with the characters for "beauty" and "moon". mariana — is a feminine name of portuguese origin similar to marianna, meaning "star of the sea." traditionally used by families in portuguese and spanish-speaking countries, mariana has been popular in the u.s. since the 1980s.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ NICKNAMES ->

seventeen — mizu, miji, jiji jeonghan — mizuji carats — jinny, human prada, shiba inu parents — mari, mariposa

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ BIRTHDATE & LOCATION ->

birthdate — august 15, 1995 age — 28 zodiac sign — leo birthplace — fresno, california, united states hometown — los angeles, california residency — fresno, california ❪ 1995 - 1996 ❫, los angeles, california ❪ 1996 - 2013 ❫, seoul, south korea ❪ 2013 - present ❫ nationality — japanese-american ethnicity — japanese

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ LANGUAGES ->

korean — 90% japanese — 95% english — american, 100% spanish — latin america, 80%

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ PHYSICAL DETAILS ->

height — 164 cm ❪ 5'5" ❫ weight — 47 kg ❪ 107 lbs ❫ blood type — a negative hair color — brown ❪ naturally ❫ eye color — brown

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ CLAIMS ->

face — sana ❪ twice ❫ vocal — sana ❪ twice ❫ / seulgi ❪ red velvet ❫ rap — yeri ❪ red velvet ❫ dance — bada lee ❪ choreographer ❫ / sana ❪ twice ❫

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ GENDER & SEXUALITY ->

gender — female pronouns — she / her sexual orientation — non-labeled relationship status — married ❪ est. 2024 ❫

｡ ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ‣     CAREER

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ NAME ->

stage name — minji ❪ pronounced meen-jee ❫ hangul — 민지 origin — since she has japanese descent, she wasn’t completely sure on using her birth-name and asked what could be the best possible names for her. minji was soon chosen as it.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ INDUSTRY WISE ->

company — sm entertainment ❪ 2007 - 2013 ❫, pledis entertainment ❪ 2013 - 2020 ❫, hybe labels ❪ 2020 - present ❫ trainee period — 8 years ❪ 2007 - 2015 ❫

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ ENDORSEMENTS ->

prada — brand ambassador graff — ambassador miisha — ambassador espoir — ambassador ysl beauty — muse a'pieu — model wakemake — model

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ SEVENTEEN WISE ->

debut age — 19 ❪ seventeen ❫, 22 ❪ solo ❫ group — seventeen subunit — performance unit positions — co-leader, main dancer, visual, face of the group, sub vocalist representative emojis — 🦢 / 🌺 representative color — light blue individual fandom — ministers

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ RANKING ->

vocal — 9 / 10 rap — 6 / 10 dance — 10 / 10 visual ❪ korean standard ❫ — 8 / 10 stage presence — 8 / 10 acting — 8 / 10 producing — 4 / 10 songwriting — 7 / 10 choreography — 10 / 10 leadership — 8 / 10 public speaking — 8/ 10 overall ranking — 86 / 100

｡ ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ‣     PERSONAL

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ MBTI ->

intp-t, the logician description — a logician ❪ INTP ❫ is someone with the introverted, intuitive, thinking, and prospecting personality traits. these flexible thinkers enjoy taking an unconventional approach to many aspects of life. they often seek out unlikely paths, mixing willingness to experiment with personal creativity.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ PHOBIAS ->

claustrophobia — fear of closed spaces acrophobia — fear of heights autophobia — fear of being alone

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ ALLERGIES ->

pollen — flower pollen

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ LIKES ->

taking long walks, hard liquor, animal crossing & minecraft, decorating, decluttering, gossip, driving, monster energy, working out, gaming, building lego sets, painting

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ DISLIKES ->

being late to events, camping, animal abuse, jump scares, creepy dolls, tomatoes, onions, pickles & pickle juice, playing horror games

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ FAVORITES ->

color — blue, gray & black movies — the batman, twilight, forest gump, a silent voice, la la land, kill bill, guillermo del toro’s pinocchio, american psycho tv series — criminal minds, euphoria, south park, breaking bad, one piece, jujustu kaisen, spy x family, death note, the crown, the queen’s gambit, teresa, bridgerton, narcos emojis — 🫶🤍👍😭☺️🫡 number — 2 season — fall

[opencommunion]

"Given the complex relationship of Hizballah to its Lebanese constituencies—a relationship that traverses the Resistance, political, and social spheres—Israeli rhetoric stating that the purpose of this summer’s [2006] attack was to 'remove' Hizballah from Lebanon treads dangerously close to ideas of depopulation. Who is this Hizballah that the Israeli military so desperately wished to remove? What if one member of a family is a party member and others are not? What if the daughter of the family attends a school funded by Hizballah—does that make that family a legitimate target by Israeli reasoning? Or Fatima, a volunteer who cooks for the poor during Ramadan at a Hizballah welfare organization? Is she a target? Or Wafaa Hoteit, official party spokesperson and liaison to the press and researchers? What about the democratically elected Hizballah members of parliament? Mohammad Fneish, the minister of energy?

'Hizballah strongholds' are places where people live and work. The southern suburbs of Beirut, for example, are in fact a vibrant conglomeration of urban neighborhoods where residents have varying political perspectives, religious beliefs and identities, and lifestyles. Elaborate homes exist alongside run-down buildings, as do shops selling European fashions alongside those selling Islamic dress, all interspersed with internet cafés, vegetable stands, salons, charity organization offices, and corner markets. One of the buildings in the now entirely destroyed 'Hizballah security zone' contained the party’s media relations office, where reporters and researchers were granted interviews. That office was on the second floor of a block that included apartments, stores selling everything from spices to toys, and a fantastic bakery and juice bar—a far cry from the trappings of 'terrorist targets.' The deliberate targeting of civilian infrastructure and strikes on civilian convoys and residences indicate the Israeli government’s understanding that Hizballah is much more than an armed militia. And indeed, as we have seen, in addition to its Resistance militia, Hizballah is a political party and a social welfare network. It has to do with economic interests as well as religious ideologies, local politics, and anti-imperialist stances. This does not, however, legitimate the deliberate targeting of civilians. Israeli claims that Hizballah was 'hiding behind civilians' are efforts to counter the storm of accusations of deliberate targeting by reasserting the separation between people who were and were not carrying arms and placing the blame for the conflation on Hizballah. Yet both the AI and the HRW reports found that those claims did not hold up under investigation. To remove Hizballah from Lebanon would require the 'removal' of its civilian constituencies. Playing devil’s advocate, one could say that the enmeshment of Hizballah with civilian life in Lebanon legitimates strikes against civilian targets because the water is as hostile as the fish swimming in it. The obvious problem with this logic is that draining the pond would be tantamount to ethnic cleansing." Lara Deeb, “Hizballah and Its Civilian Constituencies in Lebanon,” in The War on Lebanon: A Reader, eds. Nubar Hovsepian and Rashid Khalidi (2007)