#Motivational Text Tee

[fashionable-clothes-accessories]

Optimism in Threads: The ‘Everything Will Be OK’ Tee

This stylish black t-shirt exudes positivity with its bold and reassuring message: “OK EVERYTHING WILL BE OK.” Crafted from soft fabric, it promises comfort while making a statement. The contrast of white on black adds to its visual appeal, making it versatile enough to pair with various outfits. Whether you’re out for a casual meet-up or just lounging at home, this tee is sure to uplift your spirits and perhaps even those around you.

[toytle]

everything abt this is outdated but ykw. tag yourself anyway, i’m jean and fred

text ID under cut:

lasik (scott): 1) gifted kid burnout + eldest sibling syndrome 2) leader by choice(..?) 3) “this is fine.”

mom jeans (jean): 1) leader but not by choice 2) never forgets a birthday 3) gets away with things due to her reputation

fuzzy elf (kurt): 1) tries to be hip with the kids (is a kid) 2) honorary catboy 3) fingerguns his way out of situations

:3 (kitty): 1) impulsive shopper 2) livetweets everything 3) says ‘omg’ and ‘ttyl’ outloud 4) bakes muffins for her friends! they are inedible!

skater boi (evan): 1) cool guy syndrome 😎 (undiagnosed adhd) 2) steals food off his friends' plates 3) PARKOUR!

e-girl blueprint (rogue): 1) hopeless romantic 2) only child AND middle child energy 3) knows the best thrifting spots

“””team leader””” (lance): 1) tries a lot, fails a lot 2) anger is default emotion 3) probably named his car betty or smth

actual team leader (pietro). 1) cool guy syndrome 😎 (unmedicated adhd) 2) causes problems on purpose 3) motivated by attention

toad (todd): 1) thinks he's just soo funny. well, he is. 2) hasn't showered in a month 3) stays out of drama but Will grab the popcorn

bombshell blonde (tabitha): 1) self-loathing vs superiority complex: fight! 2) flirts with friends 3) parties to avoid being alone with her thoughts

scarlet bitch (wanda): 1) hates authority figures 2) cuts her own hair. and clothes. 3) in a constant state of overstimulation 4) deserves to snap tbh

hey it’s (fred)!: 1) cries easily 2) would literally murder for friends 3) treats plushies like living creatures

professor clean (xavier): 1) “hello el gee bee tee que community" 2) adopts every child he sees 3) knows everything and yet nothing at all

grrrr (logan): 1) that sounds like a you problem." 2) acts like he hates kids but tacks their drawings to the fridge 3) believes that violence is the answer

weather report (ororo): 1) everyone's bisexual awakening 2) has high expectations for everyone, including herself 3) live laugh love 😊😊😊 or else

mr beast but like actually (hank): 1) god, i could really use a drink." *makes chamomile tea* 2) longs to be a smooth rock basking in the sun 3) gives unwarranted life lessons

another blue one (mystique): 1) #girlboss 2) “gay rights but only for me" 3) loves her son but will dropkick other children

magnum dong (magneto): 1) heterophobic 2) "you have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair" 3) does not love his son AND will dropkick other children

[sashasspace]

Love Language mod v1- the intro ♡

I can’t believe my first ever mod is finally out! I wrote it out in July 2021 hoping the day it could be a mod and the fact it is out now feels so surreal. The five love language mod in the sims! Yes, our sims can now have a love language as a trait. You can buy the trait from the rewards store and it costs 12 points. Once your sim has the trait, you can see it in the simology panel and then your sims will have wants surrounding their trait. I used ALL the packs to create this mod.

What are the wants we will see in game?

Most of the instructions are already in the game on how to complete the wants

Words of affirmation

For words of affirmation, your sim’s charisma skill is an important factor when it comes to their social interactions

Compliment outfit *skill 2 charisma*

Compliment appearance

Brighten day *skill 2 charisma*

Flatter *skill 3 charisma*

Ask about day

Express admiration 

Whisper (any whisper social)

Profess undying love

Pickup line *for couples with high relationship, just have your couple flirt*

Sweet talk *skill 6 charsima*

Flirt

Declare love publicly 

Get to know

Discuss interest

Deep conversation

Tell story (any story social)

Tell dirty joke *skill 4 comedy and also flirty*

Ask a risqué question

Write love email *skill 4 writing/ flirty mood*

Flirty text *could be regular text too*

Heartfelt compliment *happy mood*

Say affirmations

Write affirmations

Quality time

 Ask about day

Watch movie alone or with someone

Play Console / PC alone or with someone *skill 4 video gaming*

Call someone

Chat on computer

Cook meal alone or with someone (any meals from all packs)

Picnic *spring/summer season*

Prepare drinks (any drinks from all packs)

Travel

Join in cooking

Workout *skill 6 fitness*

Dance together *skill 3 dance*

Pillow fight

Teach to knit *skill 10 knitting*

Play with sparkler *must be summer/fireworks must be on property for the want to appear*

Video call

Watch TV show

Take a bath *any bath*

Play board games *all table games included* 

Gifts  

Give gift *friendly, mean, funny or romantic*

Give simoleons 

Treat yourself or any animal

Receive gift *open presents from seasons*

Buy something *retail, phone, computer purchase...etc.*

Offer rose *gift rose or flower arrangement in inventory/ buy from the flower stall*

Donate to charity *skill 3 charisma*

Give jewelry gift *gemology table*

Give a collectable as a gift *dig to find something or buy simmi capsule*

Acts of service 

Call to meal

Be called to a meal

Make drinks for *use bar*

Prepare drinks (any drink from any pack)

Order drinks together / solo

Cheers *toast from seasons/ my wedding stories*

Order food from stall

Clean up

Repair

Give or receive massage *romantic base game social or spa day*

Cook (any meal)

Donate to charity *skill 3 charisma*

Order delivery 

Serve tea/ be served tea *object from my wedding stories*

Hire a service  (any service)

Volunteer *parenthood pack*

Physical touch

These wants need sims to have a first kiss to appear. For sims created in CAS as married or premades, they have to woohoo first for the want to appear.

Kiss

Kiss lover's cheek / family kiss *all sims are included in this interaction*

Hug / Embrace *all sims are included in this interaction*

Caress cheek

Snuggle your lover

Give / receive Massage 

Look deeply into eyes

Feed a bite

Slow dance / sweetheart dance *My wedding stories/ High school years*

Cozy up by the fire

Woohoo (any location)

Cuddle while watching movie

Make out 

Tickle

Credits 💕

Thank you Tee (danitysimmer) for helping me and teaching me all about modding. You are so patient with me and so understanding.. I’ll never forget your kindness. I pray you receive so many blessings in life

Jordy, thank you for motivating me to go back and cheering me on when I sent updates

My family and friends who cheered me on when I sent updates

Zerbu’s mod constructor v5 / Lot51 tuning builder

Sims 4 studio / Scumbumbo’s xml injector

Cinnasims for the pose I used / pose player mod

"The Five Love Languages" by Gary Chapman

Twistedmexi better exceptions

My amazing friends who tested this mod out thank you so much!

XML INJECTOR IS REQUIRED!!!!

Optional downloads ♥

UI Cheats Extension v1.41 | Patreon

MiniMod: Re-Roll Wants | Patreon

Video tutorial

CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE MOD Alternate Download

Brazilian Portuguese love language mod

French love language mod

Polish love language mod

Ukrainian love language mod

Spanish love language mod

FAQs ღ

Why is the mod not appearing for me? You don't have XML injector mod 💜

There will be future updates such as moodlets/buffs and love languages for children. If you have any issues, please contact me. I will try my best to figure it out. Tag me if you use the mod, I would love to see it in your game. Thanks for downloading and being patient with me. I wish you a lovely day!

Take care 🌙

🚨 For any modder who wants to translate any of my mods, I don't mind if you upload it on your patreon, or even any other website that monetizes, BUT I do not want you to post it on CurseForge. I would also like if you keep the mods publicly for download no early access.

[m3l0nfl0at]

kags can't communicate - t. kageyama

kageyama tobio x gn!reader; low maintenance lovers, fluff, misunderstandings, swearing, kageyama is literally just a little guy, and 1.9k words

summary ; a request, kageyama being an awkward boyfriend to reader bcs he’s never had a girlfriend before and he's super nervous about going things wrong

melody's recommended melody ; you love me - kimya dawson

Kageyama always focused on volleyball. Wake up, eat, practice, and sleep, it was his daily routine. On some days, if he was feeling extra motivated he might even add time to go on a run. However, when Kageyama had gotten with you, this routine didn’t change like most would think. All that changed was that he now had a partner to text while going about his day. You worked your busy job making sure to slowly text him back as well. Kageyama didn’t see a problem with just texting each other back and forth. Most of the time all he could do was text you, since his schedule was so busy as a professional volleyball player. In fact, he thought just texting and seeing each other every once in a while was normal for a relationship. It wasn’t till the dumbass Hinata had to stick his nose where it didn’t belong, his relationship dynamic.

“You’re saying you’ll go weeks without seeing each other?”, Hinata exclaims. Kageyama nods, not really sure why Hinata was suddenly butting in on his relationship. “I can’t go a day without seeing my partner! Don’t leave them hanging, Tobio. Who knows they might get bored of you.”, Atsumu bursts into the conversation too. Even though Kageyama would usually shrug off their opinion, this time he really lets their words sit with him because he isn’t the only person in this relationship. He thinks that if you did feel that way you could talk to him, right? Did you mind that you don’t see each other that much? Were you doubting your relationship with him because he’s a private person? Kageyama knows you, he knows you would tell him if something was wrong. It was more likely for Kageyama to be the person to keep his emotions inside, rather than telling you. 

  You were Kageyama’s first relationship, he never really had to worry about silly romance during school. Yes, Kageyama got confessions from girls at his university and fans but they never stood out to him like yours did. Up until you, all he’s ever known and cared for is volleyball. Yet, he wants to try really hard to learn how to be in a relationship, for you. After he finishes up practice, he researches ways to communicate with his partner correctly and exciting dates to go on. Determined to amaze you and show you how perfect a partner he could be, for you. This new found realization brought upon by two morons was messing with him badly, I mean just a couple of hours ago he thought he knew what love was down to a tee. Now, Kageyama feels himself redefining what it is, trying to convince himself that he’s a worthy partner.  

  He decides to invite you to an upcoming festival, wanting you to see that he’s trying to spice up your normal dates. Which usually just consisted of you both cuddling while watching a movie or making a home cooked meal and staying in. His face dropped when you told him that you’ll have to take a rain check due to you working all week, instead of dreading your response. He opts to change the subject, sending you a message back that he’s rooting for you and to do well at work. Then quickly deciding to go for a run to get this failed attempt of being exciting, out of his psyche. 

  Showing up to practice the next day, trying to dodge the two idiots, Atsumu and Hinata. Only for them to run up behind him. Kageyama ignores them, letting the two trail him until he sits, stretching instead. Fed up, he turns around to scold them, “Stop following me dumbasses!”, the pair groaned. “We’re just curious Kageyama, did you take any of our advice?”, Hinata speaks while nudging him trying to urge the answer out of him. Kageyama groans, annoyed at how irritating the pair could be, “I asked them to go to a festival with me.”, Atsumu and Hinata perk up glad that Kageyama took charge of the situation. “They said they had to take a rain check because of work.”, the pair deflates. “What does that mean? Why did you get all quiet!”, he questions the two idiots. “Oh they definitely hate you.”, Atsumu blurts out, getting an eye roll from Sakusa. You hate him? No, that can’t be right, you were just busy. Why did these dumbasses make everything seem so complicated? He would have to take rain checks too but that didn’t mean he hated you? He was busy due to his job so rearranging dates felt normal, you never seemed upset by it. He knew you always understood that you and him were both very busy and important people in your field. Kageyama wonders if your priorities should change when you get together with someone. 

  Being in a relationship means making a specific set time for your lover, no? Does he have to set aside more time? Should you be his new top priority? If you weren’t his top priority would you feel tossed aside? It made him think that he was missing something, love feels really complicated. Kageyama, wanting to prove that you’re a new top priority for him, texts you determined to go on an exciting date with you. He sees it now, you’ll go to an amusement park! You’ll get on rollercoasters with him, that was exciting right? No, it was exciting but not romantic enough. How can he make this more romantic? Interrupting his thoughts when he feels his phone buzz, showing your caller ID on his phone. “Kags, can we talk?”, Kageyama’s heart drops. “Sure. Want me to come over?”, noticing his voice suddenly gets a little bit higher. “Yeah, I ordered take out! Come over love.”, he hangs up on you. Scared with what fate will await him at your house.

  Hearing a knock on the door, you open it to find Kageyama standing stiffly behind the door. You’ve noticed that Tobio had been acting weird, suddenly proposing extravagant dates or dropping the word exciting too many times in a row over text. That’s why you invited him over, you didn’t want him to think you need the luxurious or as he would put it “exciting” dates. Opting to show him that you just enjoy being with him after a long week of work. You let him in with a small smile, hoping that’ll help him loosen up a bit. Only to see him get even more tense, you grab his hand closing the door. “Kags, let’s sit. You don’t have to be so rigid my love.”, you guide him to your couch rubbing your finger along his hand. Sitting down, you see his shoulders relax a little bit. 

  “How’s training? I’m really excited to watch you at the Olympics!”, you squeal in excitement. “Training is good.” Kageyama replies curtly. You stop, looking at him, trying to puzzle together if you did something to garner this sudden frigid behavior. Watching as Kageyama digests your awkward silence, feeling that he’s scared to say something. You notice him tense again, this tense now due to the result of insecurity. Looking over to Kageyama as his leg fidgets, worried about what’s going on his head. Also curious why he feels that he can’t tell you about his worries and insecurities. “Kags, are you okay?”, he jumps.

  “Yeah, what makes you think I'm not?”, he laughs, showing a smile that vanishes within a second. “My love, you’ve been tense ever since you’ve got here. Plus you’re not even touching your food either.”. He stays silent, knowing he’s been caught. “Is there anything I can do to help you feel more comfortable?”, you try to recall why Kageyama is acting so weird. Only coming up with one reason, “Is it because I took a rain check on the dates?”, he nods, mind feeling fuzzy. “Oh, I’m sorry love. That’s why I called you over actually.”, you smooth out your sweater. Overlapping his hand with yours, knowing telling the truth was never easy but essential in a relationship. 

  Focused on how Kageyama is observing you closely, taking a deep breath before continuing. “If I’m honest Kags, I declined all those dates because I like just being here with you. If you really want to go on those dates, we can go on them. Nevertheless, I don’t want you to think you need to wow me by taking me on exciting and expensive dates.”, Kageyama’s eyes widened. Concentrating on his shoulders, watching them finally slump, “I thought you were going to break up with me.”. You softly chuckle, “As if. That’ll never happen.”, you tilt his head up. Bringing his lips to yours in a quick peck, “I’m going to kill Hinata.”, Kageyama mutters. You feel your brows furrow, confused about him suddenly bringing up Shoyo. Seeing your expression he realizes what he finally said. “No, no it’s just that the other day, Hinata and Atsumu got into my head about our relationship.”, he shrugs trying to brush it off. Only to make you more concerned in the end, “Oh, what did they say Kags?”.

  “Let’s not worry about it, can I ask you something though?”, you nod urging him to continue. “Do you think our relationship is…boring?”, you’re taken aback but before you could answer he cuts you off. “Scratch that, do you think I’m boring?”, he avoids eye contact with you. You sigh, the sigh soon turns into laughter. Aware that all the tension leaves his body at the sound of your laugh. “I think what we have is different from a regular relationship…”, Kageyama’s hands suddenly start sweating. “However, I like what we have. It's simple and easy, love doesn’t always have to be one specific thing.”, Kageyama feels lighter. You rest onto him, hugging his waist as he leans back against the couch. “Now, do I think you’re boring? No way!”, Kageyama feels his face heat up. “My boyfriend is an olympian volleyball player, what’s boring about that!”, you kiss his cheek. Hugging him tighter because the poor boy looked like he was about to throw up.

  Going into a relationship with Tobio, you knew what you were going to be up against thousands of his fangirls. However, you also knew that Volleyball always came first to him. Understandably so, if you were as good as him at your dream, of course it would be your whole life. You also understand that Volleyball isn’t just a thing for him to shut the world out, instead inviting the world back in so his grandpa can be proud of him. It sucked not being able to see your boyfriend 24/7 but seeing him crush the court was so worth it to you. No money could ever buy or take away your love for Kageyama. “I agree with you, we’re going to beat Shoyo and Atsumu up. I don’t think they should be one to give relationship advice.”, you laugh. “Tell them to stick to volleyball, love.”, you and Kageyama stay like this for a moment, taking time to re energize each other’s battery. To some it might look like two people who are just resting but you and Kags both knew this is how you spent quality time. Your job involved a lot of communicating and Kageyama was surrounded by noise all day but seeing each other felt like a breath of fresh air. A solace only you two could find in each other and no one else had to understand the way you loved Kageyama. The way you showed each other love may be considered boring to some but to you two, loving each other was just that, simple.

divider credit to @/saradika-graphics, @/thecutestgrotto, @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @/princessantisocial

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ melon's marginalia: this is my second request, i’m challenging myself with writing for other characters so i hope you enjoy! requests are open!

@m3l0nfl0at on tumblr. All Rights Reserved. Do not steal, copy, or translate any of my works.

[sleepinthrumyalarms]

— a study in demon

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, a/b/o dynamics in werewolves and demons, penetration, G!P!reader, it's demon girlcock OKAY, cockwarming, breeding kink, size kink, knotting, all characters are aged-up

summary: an unfortunate turn of events leaves wednesday with a very frustrated, very needy oni demon on her hands. what kind of girlfriend would she be if she didn't take care of her beloved?

word count: 4.5k

a/n: jesus christ, look at those warnings. this fic is a whole declaration of war. i went feral. i have nothing to say for myself. hope you enjoy

The first thing you feel when the annoying buzzing of the alarm pulls you out of your peaceful slumber is the immense heat of your body and the ache somewhere in your lower belly. A groan leaves your throat before you can even blink your eyes fully open, and you blindly reach for your phone to turn the screaming noise off.

You sit up on your bed and squint at the sunlight that streams through the tiny slit in the tightly shut curtains, opening a small calendar app that’s designed specifically for the creatures of your kind – and with a huff you realize your rut is coming in two days.

Damn it. You’ve completely forgotten about it. That certainly explains the aggressiveness and mood swings you’ve been having for the past week.

You open a new text message, sent from your girlfriend at 5:30 AM – not exactly an early riser, but definitely the type to pull an all-nighter on a school night – wishing you the most dreadful morning. You smile to yourself, and the smallest thought of her seems to be enough to motivate you to get out of bed and start the day despite the uncomfortable feeling stirring in your belly.

Thank all the gods almighty – Larissa Weems, especially – that it is still a non-uniform week at the Academy. Sitting in class with that tie wrapped around your throat like a noose would’ve killed you.

You rummage through your wardrobe, pulling out a tee and a pair of jeans, changing hastily, before your gaze falls on a particular item of clothing that definitely doesn’t belong in your closet.

It’s a black baggy zip hoodie, the one Wednesday constantly wears when out of class. It’s a surprise she has forgotten it at your place – your best guess is she must’ve left in one of your sweatshirts instead.

The fabric feels smooth in your grasp. Warm fleece lining. A bit abrasive on the outside.

Just like her.

You lift the hoodie to your face, burying your nose in the softness and inhaling.

Smells just like her, too.

Without a second thought you put it over your frame – though a bit more of a tight fit, it’s still slightly baggy on your shoulders – and zip it up, pulling the hood over your head to take another small whiff of the familiar scent.

That should get you through the day, you think.

And it does. For the first half of it, at least.

You take an extra suppressant pill during lunch, but skip the meal, opting to spend the free time in the quad to ventilate your head.

It feels better. Much, much better. Even though you don’t get to see Wednesday at the canteen.

You’re back inside for your last period – maths, and your mind gets too busy with the complicated equations and formulas to worry about the hormones running wild in your body.

You’re half-way through a very fucked-up problem with roots and sines before a strong aroma suddenly fills up your lungs – an omega’s pheromones, you realize, wide-eyed.

An omega who is in heat.

You lift your head up, giving the students around you a quick once-over – and your gaze meets a pair of golden orbs, a pretty girl with pink plump lips and fiery-red hair tied into a pony tail watches you with interest, her chin propped on her palm. As soon as you make eye-contact, she gives you a smile, revealing a small, adorable gap in the front row of her teeth.

You shake your head and smile back politely before turning back to your paper, but the rest of the class feels like you’re trapped in a suffocating cage of hot arousal that smells of yellow fruit and washed laundry.

As soon as the bell dismisses the students, you hastily pack your bag and bolt out of the door, desperate to lock yourself in your dorm room and just take care of this stupid predicament you’ve found yourself in. You’ve never been more grateful for the lack of a roommate.

“Hey, (Y/n).”

You stop and turn at the sound of your name being called, although the voice is quite unfamiliar – too melodic and gentle to be anyone you know.

“Hey, uh...”

It’s the redhead from maths. She watches you expectantly for a few moments before her face falls slightly, “It’s Dina! I was with the Black Cats last year. We met at the after party? The one Yoko hosted?” She sounds almost offended at the fact that you don’t remember her.

“Oh. Oh, right. Dina. Sorry. I’m really bad with names.” You smile apologetically.

“It’s fine. I’d be surprised if you remembered me, actually. This academy holds way too many ginger werewolves,” Dina chuckles, and falls in step with you to continue walking down the hall. “So, you up to anything right now?”

“No, not really. Just hoping to get back to the dorms and sleep my awful headache off. Been bugging me all day.”

It’s only a half-lie – your temples are still throbbing like crazy, and the pheromones you’ve smelled in class did nothing to help your case.

The werewolf tilts her head, pursing her plump lips, “Hmm... That’s too bad, because, actually...”

The smaller girl suddenly grabs your hips and pushes you – unprepared, you stumble to the side and right through the door of some random classroom. Barely able to catch your balance at Dina’s abrupt movement, your hands grasp at her forearms, desperately trying to steady the rest of your body.

“I was thinking I could help you relieve that pain of yours.”

She looks up at you, tilts her chin up slightly. The smell of citron and fresh linen suddenly fills your nose.

The same one you’ve felt in class.

The omega in heat.

Fuck.

The werewolf in front of you settles with pumping her pheromones at you wildly, her palms flitting from your hips down to your thighs, slowly closing in on your center – you do nothing to stop her, your own hands reaching behind you to grip the edge of the desk. Her eyes are glinting red now, slitted pupils never breaking eye contact with yours.

She presses her nose against your scent gland, and you feel her grin against your neck.

“I don’t smell an omega on you...” Shit. Of course Wednesday’s hoodie doesn’t smell like anything but her usual dark resins and woods scent. As much as it is alluring and recognizable to you, it’s not pheromones. “You haven’t mated with one yet? That’s just criminal... An alpha like you should spend all her ruts with a pretty omega impaled on her cock.”

You take a sharp inhale through your nose, feeling yourself throb treacherously at her words. Dina giggles softly, pressing her lips to your jaw, her mouth now inches away from yours.

“You know…” she starts sultry, voice heavy with unadulterated lust in a way that only an omega’s can sound to the ears of a rutting alpha, “I’ve never taken an oni’s knot before…”

You feel the werewolf squeeze your thighs, bare her claws in a sharp movement, “I wonder what it feels like.”

Your head is heavy, cloudy – you’re practically unable to resist, tusked mouth hanging open with small puffs of vapors fluttering out. The urge to bend the small werewolf over the desk and pound her into the wood feels even harder to resist, too.

An unpleasant feeling rattles through your chest, unbearable and disgusting. An image of dark-brown eyes and soft lips painted burgundy flashes through your mind.

You feel like you’re going to puke.

“No,” you rasp, pushing the werewolf away. “Get off me.”

Before the startled girl can retort, you stumble out of the classroom and slam the door closed, turning the key that has been left in the keyhole by some clumsy substitute.

You stumble for a moment, lifting a clawed palm to grasp at your head that has suddenly turned cloudy and heavy, and make your way towards the ladies’ restroom.

She must’ve felt the rut closing on you, and her own heat triggered it prematurely.

With shaky hands you pull out your phone, opening the messages app and texting the first person that comes to your clouded mind.

enid

bro you gotta ditch

it’s an emergency

i just stumbled into a girl

uhh dina?

she’s from ophelia hall

anyways i think she needs… help

yk

from a fellow omega wolf

i think she hasn’t been taking her suppressants

for some fucking reason

and yk it’s not like me to live a lady in distress

but i really had to dip

i was doing her a favor by dipping actually

i locked her up on the 2nd floor

202

i really had to leave

Pressing your back against one of the bathroom stalls, you wait anxiously as three gray dots dance on the screen.

The device dingles in your hands.

oooohh

its okay

i gotchu

u should totes find weds tho

im sure she can help u out ;))

You hide your phone in your pocket and open the tap to splash your face with cold water. It eases the flush of your face, but doesn’t calm the raging beast inside.

Your fingers grasp onto the edges of the sink tightly, almost making the marble crack.

As you walk through the corridors and up the stairs of Ophelia Hall, the only thought that occupies your mind is Wednesday. Wednesday and her dark eyes and her lips and her touch and the beautiful curve of her slender hips and everything that is your mate.

You don’t bother knocking, urgently swinging the door open.

And there it is. Your (f/c) sweater, no doubt one of her monochrome striped shirts under it.

Your palms are sweating. Claws digging into your pant legs, tusks into your lip.

The small ravenette turns in her seat to look at you, her fingers stilling over the keys of her typewriter.

Her braided hair looks pristine and untouched, her posture unmatched, the image perfect even when out of public sight.

“Ma bête,” she addresses softly, brows slightly raised in question. “You’re back. And you look… a trifle uncomfortable.”

Does she not know? There’s no way she doesn’t. Such details could never slip Wednesday’s unhealthily constantly alerted mind.

“Is something wrong?”

Fuck. Of course. There it is, that cruel glint in her eyes. You should’ve known.

She wants you to say it.

You shift on your feet. The temperature is becoming almost unbearable.

“I’m…”

Wednesday watches you, tilts her head just a tiny bit forward — dark, haunted eyes deadpan, staring you down, her jaw tightening slightly and relaxing in a way that is barely noticeable but has your gaze flicking down to the enticing slant of her neck.

“I’m… in a rut.” You admit, finally.

Wednesday’s eyes widen slightly — her posture straightens even more, the glint in her eyes turning dangerous, “Oh.” Yes, oh, as if she wasn’t aware. “Why are the suppressants not working?”

Should you admit that the small encounter with the horny omega has sent your hormones spiraling?

Wednesday is by no means a normal human, yet her nose lacks the capability of sensing alpha pheromones. Nevertheless, she can read you like a book, and she probably was aware of your coming rut long before you were. She simply likes abusing the knowledge.

“It must be bad then, if it has you reduced to such a pathetic state,” the goth tuts, drumming her fingers against her desk. “Pure torture, isn’t it, bête? I wish I could help you…”

Wednesday turns back to her paper, shrugging noncommittally, “Unfortunately, it is my writing hour, and you know how much I would detest an intervention in my schedule.”

You whine as the drumming of her keys resumes – like a kicked puppy, you turn to reach for the doorknob, prepared to return back to the restroom and take care of yourself to the thought of your ever-so beautiful and unyielding girlfriend.

Wednesday’s fingers still on the typewriter.

“But I suppose… We can reach a consensus.”

The legs of her chair scrape against the hardwood floor, and you turn to find Wednesday standing next to the desk, palm resting on the back of the seat invitingly.

“Come here.”

You’re beside Wednesday before the whole command can escape her mouth, and she gives a small, amused huff that almost has you howling and gnawing at furniture, then gestures at the chair, “Sit. Unbutton your pants, underwear off.”

You reach to do as told, pulling at a pant-leg to finally discard the constricting garment before the ravenette slaps your hand, “Just the button and the zipper, (Y/n). Do not make me repeat myself.”

You gulp and take a seat at her desk, tugging the elastic of your boxers down to free the hard shaft.

The dark, intense gaze Wednesday is watching you with makes you blush and throb, excitement and arousal mixing with the slightest of embarrassments only her presence can induce.

“Good girl,” she hums, circling the chair like a hunting lioness. “I will allow you to be inside me, just this once. I will not allow you to touch me in any other way. If I feel any movement, internal or external, you will be punished. And by no means are you allowed to cum. Not without my permission. Are the instructions clear, beast? Nod your empty little head if affirmative.”

You nod with a small whimper at the derogatory words, though they do nothing to soothe the aching hardness between your legs.

“Good, good. Well, since the terms are settled, I shall get started.”

Before you can respond, Wednesday steps closer to the desk, slightly flipping her skirt with a quick movement of her hand and letting you catch the smallest of glimpses of her pretty pussy – the show is over before you can marvel though, and the seer sits on your lap, your length pressing against her lower back.

Like this, with no distance left between you, her scent is encompassing your whole being. No pheromones can compare to the way Wednesday smells, the rich, woodsy notes of a forest soaked in rainwater luring you in as you take a small inhale.

You bite back a growl, but a small noise of frustration still manages to reach the ravenette’s sharp hearing.

“Quiet, beast.” She scolds, her tone of voice far from playful, and reaches to straighten her skirt carefully, flicking the non-existing dust off the garment in a graceful movement of her palm.

Then, before you can downright keen with impatience, the same hand moves behind to wrap around your hard member, giving it a squeeze so light it is almost torturous –  Wednesday lifts her hips and presses the head against the warmth of her entrance.

That first contact feels like electricity and fire in your belly, worsened when you feel your cock split her lips open, stretching her taut around it, and the smallest worry that you might just not fit passes through your rut-clouded mind.

Then again, Wednesday might not even be merciful enough to sheathe you fully inside her, but the thought of being too big to be properly seated in her cunt is tantalizing and excruciating at the same time.

A small, relieved sigh escapes Wednesday’s lips –  the sensation of being filled up with you is like no other, and she can’t help but relish in it despite her aggravation. She takes her time, feeling every inch push deeper inside her and stretch her out, the thick shaft splitting her open, then her thighs press into yours and she stills completely.

If she had to, the goth would put all the time and work in to stretch herself out with your girth, to take all of you inside her like she was molded just for that single purpose. It’s not like Wednesday has something to prove to anyone – or maybe she has, to you, that no one else at Nevermore could take you so well and make all your resolve, might and dominance provided to you by nature, or by gods, or by whatever entity has created such a delectable beast as you crumble under her and make it natural for you to submit to the seer.

And oh does submissiveness look good on you, too – or at least it sounds good, if your heavy breathing mixed with quiet whines hitting her ear is anything to go by.

Wednesday is reminded of her goal suddenly when she feels your hips buck instinctually into her, and the ravenette has to hold back a sound of pleasure at the movement, because she can’t fight how incredible the pressure feels, making her velvet walls flutter. She’s still holding the reins when she tightens her pussy around your throbbing dick purposefully, a trace of a small smirk on her plush burgundy lips at the needy and wanton groan that escapes your mouth.

That was a good enough treat, she thinks. Now to the sticks.

Wednesday kicks you in the shin with the side of her loafer, pulling you out of your pleasure-induced trance and making you flinch.

“Move closer to the desk, beast. I need to be able to reach the keys in order to type.”

You grunt, shuffling the chair closer with your weight, nudging Wednesday’s body forward, and the slightest shift makes you hiss — she slides a few inches up your shaft before she’s at the base again, seated nice and snug, her thighs resting on yours. Your hands fall to grapple at them, and you receive another painful kick.

“No. Hands off. If you are unable to control yourself, I will shun you out.” Wednesday scolds, though has to hide the effect the feeling of your claws curling around her have, and fails. Her voice sounds more breathless than she has intended.

She has a hard time admitting to herself how torturous this is for her, too. The seer sneaks a glance down to where the thick shaft splits her open, so tight she can practically feel it throbbing against her clit. A small bead of precum runs down, skirting one of the throbbing veins.

Wednesday’s restraint is laudable.

“Messy creature,” she murmurs, her tone surprisingly soft, before the paper in front of her takes over her attention again. Straightening her back, the ravenette goes back to her writing as if she’s not full of demon cock right now.

You try to focus on the rapid clatter of the keys, on the way Wednesday’s elegant fingers dance over the typewriter, maybe try and catch a glance of the words the girl is printing on the paper. Anything to pull your mind away from the tight warmth hugging your aching cock, from weight of the small body pressed against you.

The demon inside of you is raging, howling, salivating between huge tusks. The monster is not as prejudiced as the fellow oni of your clan are – it doesn’t care if it’s another demon or a human you’re nestled inside. It demands the frail body pressed against your own is filled up and bred, demands the goth takes all of you, stretching around your swollen knot before it's barely able to slip inside.

Not just any body. Or some omega. Wednesday. Wednesday who isn’t even a part of that animalistic system, but the beast begs for more, wants all of her more, more with each passing second.

A growl mixed with a whimper escapes your mouth – you have no idea what to do with your hands, so you press them into the edge of the table on either side of Wednesday’s typewriter, claws digging into the dark wood. The involuntarily display of strength has the small female tightening around you with a gentle hitch of her breath, making you groan.

“Wednesday,” you rasp through clenched teeth. “I can’t. Please. I’m losing control.”

“O-oh, are you?” The goth inquires mockingly, hoping you don’t take notice of her slight stutter.

“Mhm,” you nod dumbly. “Wanna take you so bad. Wanna fuck you full of me.”

Wednesday can’t fight the way her pussy constricts around you again, though the determination not to lose control remains, strong as ever. She abandons the keys to reach a hand into your hair, grabbing a fistful of (h/c) locks to pull and make you meet her gaze, “Whose is it, (Y/n)?”

You furrow your brows in confusion, making Wednesday’s frown deepen – a hint for the right answer comes in the form of the seer’s hips lifting and rocking back down, the friction making you hiss.

“Answer me.”

“Yours.” You swallow. “Yours, Wednesday. Every- every inch is.”

“Good. Good girl.” She coos, easing her hold on you to rake her short nails down the back of your neck, making goosebumps litter your body. “Bed, beast. Now.”

A low growl rumbling in your chest and vibrating against her back is the only warning Wednesday gets before she’s lifted into the air sharply.

In a rough, barely controlled movement you stand up so fast you topple the chair over, flipping the girl with ease and walking a couple of steps to press her against the bed, the ravenette’s cunt still snug around your shaft. A clawed hand reaches for a pillow hastily to cushion Wednesday’s head, the last resemblance of caring gentleness in your actions before you pull out to the tip and buck back inside.

Wednesday’s head snaps back, mouth falling open in pleasure as you pin her down into the mattress, fucking hard into the welcoming, tight warmth of her pussy. Despite the dynamics of oni demons still being fairly alien to Wednesday – not as alien apparently, as she knows the frequency and signs of your rut better than you do and isn’t opposed to using it against you – she now seems to understand the appeal of being absolutely destroyed by an alpha that omegas in heat are so partial to.

As delectable as the thought is, it rekindles the spark of possessiveness that she thought has almost been extinguished. The goth wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling your bodies flush together.

Hers. No one else’s.

Not some other depraved omega girl’s so desperate to get a taste of you.

“You foolish brute.” She pants as if it’s your fault you seem to be irresistible to other women, voice trembling slightly, her breath completely pushed out of her lungs with each of your thrusts. “You better make good on your promise and breed me like a good alpha should.”

The monster inside you roars at the proposition that is so obviously supposed to be taunting. Your palms slide down the girl’s waist, thumbs brushing against the protruding hipbones to dip into the supple flesh sitting low under her navel, holding her tightly, almost hard enough to bruise and match the brutal pace of your hips rutting into Wednesday, your cock splitting her open deliciously in a toe-curling sensation that has Wednesday’s head falling back against the dark pillows.

The sight under you has you growling savagely – your tongue lolls out to lick a thick stripe up the exposed skin of the ravenette’s neck before you bite down, huge tusks clasping around her throat and keeping Wednesday in place completely, her pulse wild against the rough surface of your muscle. Her pussy constricts around your cock, clamping down hard in an attempt to keep the thick shaft buried to the hilt every time you pull out and quivering when you slam back inside and fill her up enough for the tip to kiss the entrance of her womb, never letting the small female catch her breath.

The lustful fog of ardent fervor clouding Wednesday’s brain doesn’t numb her to the sensation of a swelling at the base of your shaft nudging against her opening every time your hips meet hers. It threatens to push in, catches deliciously on Wednesday’s clit with each thrust and she can feel herself getting painfully close.

But she will not. For the sake of the one thing she wants more than anything else, the goth will deprive herself.

“Knot me.” She rasps into your ear, her feet pushing into your lower back to urge you deeper inside. “Mia bestia, mia alfa. Dentro. Ven dentro di mi.”

You’d have no clue what she has just said on a normal day, and you have zero idea right now, buried eight inches deep inside of her, but the breathless, desperate pants of Italian have you turning feral. In one last brutal thrust the knot slips past Wednesday’s tight lips and inside, stretching and filling her so thoroughly and impossibly delicious it has her eyes rolling into the back of her head. A spill of wetness from her own release rushing forth as she clamps down on your cock lubes her aching walls, helping the bulging slide in firmly.

Your lips gravitate to hers, pulled to her like a magnet, and you growl into her mouth as your cum spills hotly, taking up any remaining space inside the small female and her walls ripple, begging for more. Wednesday's arms tighten around your shoulders and legs squeeze around your hips to keep you close.

You throb with sated completion, press lazy kisses to the seer’s brow and flushed cheeks, and watch as her eyes flutter open to meet yours, her chest heavy with steamy breaths.

“Too hot, huh?” You ask, jaw slack slightly.

Wednesday gives a weak nod, and you reach to tug the sweater off her shoulders, then unzip her skirt to slip it down her pale legs, leaving the girl in just her striped shirt. The newly exposed skin provides better contact for you to revel in – you purr in satisfaction and move to join the seer on the bed, careful not to crush her, and maneuver her small body in your palms to pull her on top of you.

Wednesday huffs but doesn’t resist, nudging at your neck with her nose and pressing a soft kiss to your jugular in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

“How did you find out?” You murmur, lifting your hands to start undoing one of the ravenette’s loosened braids leisurely.

“I have my ways.”

You hum at the vague reply, now certain that the disembodied hand following you around the whole day wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks, “I hope you know I had no intention to lie to you or anything. You just- you didn’t exactly give me a chance to speak.”

“Your explanation wasn’t necessary. I’m well aware of what happened.” The movement of the seer’s plush lips tickles your skin pleasantly, her voice now void of its previous detachment.

You smile softly, finished with unbraiding her hair, your fingers threading through the silky raven locks, careful not to give an accidental tug. Wednesday closes her eyes at your touch, and the tranquility of the moment has you feeling like a cat basking in warm sunlight, despite the object of your passions being a complete opposite to it.

“I’ll have to consult Enid on the topic of which herbs are the deadliest to werewolves.”

“Wednesday.”

[snarp]

Official version of the final cutscene:

Lord brother. I'm going to be a god. If we honour our part of the vow, promise me you'll be my consort. I'll make the world a gentler place.

Unlike the Remembrance, the content of the Japanese text isn't significantly different this time, but the tone has again been stripped out. My translation:

Nii-sama I'll definitely - definitely become a god, so - so if we honor our part of the vow, please become my king. …I just… want to make the world kind.

Explanation:

兄様 Nii-sama

When Miquella says "Lord Brother," this is always what they're saying. It's also what Malenia calls Miquella when she apologizes for losing.*

私は必ず、神になります I'll definitely - definitely become a god,

The comma is there to show hesitation, and the "definitely" ("kanarazu" / 必ず) is defensive: Miquella is defending their ability and/or willingness to become a god. With the sentence structure of a panicking child promising an angry parent they'll clean up after the puppy.

ですから、私たちが約束を守れたら So - so if we honor our part of the vow,

Again, the comma's there to show hesitation or stuttering. The connective "so" ("desu kara"/ですから) is characteristic of a nervous person trying to bargain.

(There's no indication of who else or how many people "we" includes.)

私の王になってください please become my king.

They don't say "promise" - too aggressive.

…世界を、優しくしたいのです …I just... want to make the world kind.

They do not say "kinder", and they do not say "will": this isn't a promise, but a justification. As with everything else here, it sounds hesitant and conciliatory.**

The implication of this scene - the defensiveness, the promises, the honorific language, and the fact that Miquella is kneeling - is that Miquella has been apologizing to Radahn for some failure. Most likely, Radahn accused Miquella of being unable or unwilling to become a god, and so of failing to hold up "their" half of the vow, and Miquella is trying to reassure him.

From an emotional standpoint, I think it's pretty obvious what this is supposed to tell us about Miquella's motivations.

"What did Radahn want from Miquella?" is the question being asked here. Freyja asked it at the beginning, and the final cut-scene asks it again, to remind us that we still don't know the answer.

And from a plot standpoint, it tells us this: Radahn's half of the bargain is "marry Miquella and so become Elden Lord". So - by definition - that cannot be what Radahn asked Miquella for.

And whatever Radahn's half is, he wants it first. And, apparently, Miquella provided it - immediately before the final battle, with assistance from Malenia and the Tarnished.

"Figure it out!" says FromSoft. "Tee-hee-hee."

---

* On losing, Malenia says:

"…Aa, nii-sama …Aa, nii-sama, nii-sama. I'm sorry… Malenia lost…"

Referring to yourself in the third person is basically baby talk. As with Miquella, a lot of Malenia's Japanese-language dialog sounds childish. There's currently no way to know for sure if she was always like that, or if it's part of her post-Caelid mental deterioration… but Millicent talks like an adult.

(Malenia is saying "nii-sama" in "My brother will keep his promise", too - but there, she seems to be half-asleep and mumbling, and can't remember the kanji for "sama".)

** The way Japanese verb endings work, it's easy to accidentally land on a "no desu" (のです) like Miquella does here when you blurt something out carelessly, start regretting it before you end the sentence, and want to make it more polite. In "professional Japanese" classes, you get a lot of reminders not to end sentences that way because it sounds "weak," "pitiful," or "like you're always apologizing."

[torturedtypewritersdept]

tee's new beginning cele <3

♡ i started this blog as a new beginning after some really hard few months with mental health and physical health struggles and losing motivation to not only finish posting my old works but also to write anything new. i’m so flabbergasted and excited to have so many of my mutuals and other friends join me on this blog and i hope that you'll stay for the ride <3 the work that i've poured my heart into since 2021 + 2022 is in the process of being reposted and it has made me so happy to be creating again. if you know me at all, you know celebrating everything is in my nature and so tonight, i want to begin by celebrating this new beginning. i look forward to continuing to create for you all.

🐿: send me a prompt from this list and i'll write a little blurb for you with your choice of character. 🧸: send me a character + a vibe/scenario and i’ll make a moodboard!! 🎻: let’s play a game !! fmk, would you rather, this or that, etc!! 🤎: describe yourself + i’ll ship you with a character!!

rules:

the rules are simple - if you are sending in more than one ask, please send them one at a time so they are easier to keep track of. also, please be kind <3 no rude asks or comments will be tolerated.

tagging some moots:

@ivoirerose @loveesiren @promiscuousbarnes @scenesofobx @rafescokewhore @akobx @forevermorelovelorn @forevermoreharrington @yagirlwrites @itsalexwin @jjsbank444 @mvybanks @rileyloves5 @chenslucy @dreamingwithlouise

sorry if i missed anyone!!

LINKS:

teddy bear brown w/ rafe cameron

"you never text first. I can't tell if you hate me or if you're playing hard to get." w/ rafe cameron

you were in my dreams last night. wanna hear? w/rafe cameron

nobody understands me like you do w/rafe cameron

[philsdrivinglicence]

Okay! Review time because I cannot help myself.

I usually avoid buying clothes online, especially unisex stuff because I am short as hell (5 foot) and have disproportionately sized boobs for my hight. So most things either don't fit around my boobs and get stretched in weird places, or fit me like a potato sack. Both options don't make me feel particularly good about myself so I end up never wearing the stuff and it becomes a waste of money.

I took a chance on this shirt because I parasocialy love these fucking losers and it paid off.

1. The text sits on top of my boobs instead of infront of them.

I hate when the design/text on a graphic tee goes from nip to nip. It looks weird and stretches out the design. The text is above the boob shelf a++ good job lads.

2. The shirt is a bit long but I was expecting that due to my hight.

What's good is the design on the back is high up enough that you can tuck or roll the shirt up without obscuring the design. This is how I usually like to wear tshirts so points for that too.

3. The material is stretchy but firm. It's a bit thin but still feels good quality. The design is just printed on so we'll have to see how it stands up to first wash. I wouldn't tumble dry it. Ngl the vinyl will probably crack over time but I don't mind that "aged" look so that's not too bad.

I squealed with delight when it arrived and it motivated me to actually get dressed (at 1pm). You heard it here first. dnp merch cures depression.

Thanks Dad's!

[kyouka-supremacy]

Unpopular opinion(?!?) About Dazai and Akutagawa's relationship: People who say that it's not Dazai's intention for Akutagawa go on battle with everyone to prove his strength, are worng. I think the situation Akutagawa was in, was exactly what Dazai wanted.

Like, if we look at beast, Dazai did the same thing there too. He motivated Akutagawa by revenge in order to push him to hone his skills.

In canon, Dazai wants Akutagawa to push himself and get better at using his ability UNTIL he realizes the strength within himself with the help of Atsushi.

I mean, if Dazai's only goal for Akutagawa was to realize "the strength within yada yada" he could've been more obvious about it, but nahh.. he let Akutagawa think himself as weak (in battle) so he would constantly try to improve his fighting skills on purpose

Well......... I think there's two different answers to be given to this.

According to the bsd author, Dazai has always acted in Akutagawa's best interests– as hard to believe that may be. That means everything Dazai put Akutagawa through, the beating up and the constant running after approval and teaming up with Atsushi, was only so that Akutagawa could grow as a person and find his reason to live. Tbh I do feel like “Dazai being objectively awful towards Akutagawa” clashes with the other author's view of “Dazai is all-round infallible”, so the only way to make the two things conciliate was by saying “all the bad Dazai did to Akutagawa was actually for his good”.

According to my personal interpretation of the text, Dazai simply?? Didn't care about Akutagawa at all while in the pm?? That is, didn't care about him any more than an object, an inanimate tool he could mold to serve him. A pet at best. I don't think he cared about Akutagawa's good interests and well-being, but rather only saw him and went “Wow. This kid's ability has impressive destructive potential. What if I did my best to make of him the most efficient killing machine there can be.” An experiment, if you will; thing is, Dazai is terribly good at manipulating people into becoming what he wants them to. But then, Dazai is not in the pm anymore, and he supposedly tries to do good now, so what does he do with the kid he irreparably broke? For one, he leaves him behind and tries to definitely forget about him: because Dazai is *not* used to do good, he's not nearly as used to fix people as he is to break them; and because Akutagawa has become nothing but a walking monster that reminds Dazai of how truly ruthless and heartless he himself can be. If you ask me, for the first few years Dazai wanted nothing more than to erase Akutagawa from his memory. But 4 years later Dazai meets Akutagawa again, and after all this time he's come to realize that 1) Akutagawa can still be useful to him. regretfully. especially now that he's found this other kid whose ability fits Akutagawa's one to a tee and 2) he really should do something about Akutagawa. Maybe the time trying to do good actually made Dazai grow something close to a conscience. But what does he do to help Akutagawa? After all, Dazai is still mostly repulsed by him. So it's really easy to fall back into the hold habit of playing the “push yourself harder, and you'll finally be acknowledged” game; except it's a little less ill-natured now? If Akutagawa is broken beyond what even Dazai can undo, and the only thing keeping him from collapsing completely is the objective of finally being praised, Dazai can at least can give him that: the illusion of someone he can move towards, someone worth fighting for.

Besides, I feel like Akutagawa being someone Dazai can't fix (that is, further mold to his preferences) is source of great frustration for Dazai, and only adds to the distaste he feels for Akutagawa. He's never minded Akutagawa before, and he's finding it very hard to care about him now, and that's why he only does so marginally, conjunctionally.

A little note about Beast, just because I love Beast. I think the Dazai in Beast acts diametrically differently from the Dazai in canon, because they've got fundamentally different objectives. Beast Dazai's whole being centers on making Oda live an happy life where he can write novels. Nothing else. In the canon world, Oda is dead, so that can't be Dazai's goal; such is probably closer to “honouring Oda's last wish”, but canon Dazai has perhaps a bit more freedom of action and independence, if you will. In Beast, I think Dazai only acts to ensure Oda's well-being. But since Beast Dazai is so smart and omniscient, preserving Oda's happiness doesn't mean he can't arrange good things for others too, right? And he probably cares a little about Akutagawa and Atsushi, that's why he schemes so that even them, despite the horrors, have their happy ending in the end, find a home. Of course, that's primarily because a world where Shin S/oukoku can protect everyone and guard them against the dangers of the Book and everything else is a more stable, safer world for Oda; but I still like to think it's not only that, and that upon deciding if making Atsushi and Akutagawa happy or unhappy in the perfect world he built, Beast Dazai would pick the further.

[flamebringer0]

More About Nightwing Powers

I decided I had more to say about this post, so I reblogged it and wrote some more. It seems like when you do that Tumblr doesn't put the post into tag searches, so nobody can actually find it. I'm just going to copy the full text into a new post. I'm sorry if this spams anyone's feed, I just don't understand how this site works yet. I've never actually had a blog before.

-----

Ohhhh damn I just had another thought about this. This is my problem, I think about this stuff all the time and I keep coming up with new things I think are cool, but now that I've written all this out and published it for the whole world to see I can't change it so easily.

It's actually fine though. These thoughts are kind of a mix of things I think are canon but sufficiently non-obvious to be worth stating (All Nightwings have powers at hatching and then lose them), things that are definitely not canon but I feel like it doesn't mess with the story too much to change them (Prophets have a silver scale on their foreheads), and things that are ambiguous and I'm just filling in the blanks (fake Nightwing magic is based on their sense of smell). But there's a fourth category, which is things that I don't like about canon but changing them would basically entail writing a whole new story. I'm pretty sure this new idea falls into the latter category, so I wouldn't really have put it in that post anyway.

But let's explore the hypothesis that Tui T Sutherland and Scholastic collectively lose their minds and give me the rights to Wings of Fire, and also I have infinite time, resources and motivation to make my own adaptation of the story. Then what happens? Well, the first thing is obviously to change animus magic to be something other than total omnipotence, because omnipotent characters are the kind of albatross (tee hee) you don't want around your neck when you're trying to write a coherent story. And the second thing is to make it so the terrible Rainwing queens in book 3 are hereditary royalty and Glory is not, because I've never liked the valorisation of hereditary royalty in WOF (or in general), and that would be an easy way to subvert that. And THEN I would turn scavengers into lizard people, because I am a furry and I think that's cuter than making them humans. Lol.

But somewhere down the list would be the fact that I don't actually vibe with the idea that normal Nightwing seers/mind readers apparently have a built-in power limiter that varies randomly according to the specific individual, and the special gift you get for hatching under three moons is just to have that limiter set to 0. I don't like this because, first of all, the fact that it works like that just doesn't fit into my brain in a satisfactory way. Hatching under zero, one, or two full moons each results in a qualitatively different outcome, so in my mind, the third full moon should also do something qualitatively different. But it doesn't, it's just the same as two full moons but better. And then I'm left to assume that there are probably very rare cases of twice-moonborn Nightwings who have all the power, just because whatever secondary factors there are happened to line up in their favor? Weird.

But the more important reason is, I don't really like the idea of Clearsight as someone who has extraordinary power because she just hatched that way. Nor do I like the fact that the reasons for this are, on the one talon, unexplained (maybe inexplicable?), and on the other, not a function of who she is as a character. I think it would make for a much stronger motif if run-of-the-mill seer Clearsight were able to take down once-in-a-generation chosen one Darkstalker because she's diligent and doesn't believe in destiny while he's entitled and sure of his glorious future. At its core this feeling is actually the same thing as what I said about the Rainwing queens above: I just don't find it satisfying when the hero has some kind of special trait that makes them naturally better than everyone else. A villain can have that, but a hero I want to prove themselves through their own efforts. But that's explicitly not what happened in canon: Clearsight IS naturally more powerful than all the other seers, that's an essential part of her story, and changing it requires basically rewriting the books. I don't love it!

So anyway in the universe where I'm rewriting the books, here's a thought about how Nightwing powers might work. This partially contradicts what I wrote above, but I've decided I'm cool with that. I love contradicting myself actually, and maybe next week I'll contradict all of this again. There are no laws.

Some Nightwings are seers, some are mind readers, a few are both, and most are neither. But aside from the fact that an individual might or might not have these powers, they don't vary in strength from dragon to dragon. All seers have equally strong abilities, and all mind readers have equally strong abilities. But the strength of the abilities does vary: not per individual, but over time. Specifically, the current state of the moons affects the abilities of empowered Nightwings. On a hypothetical "darkest night" with three new moons, all Nightwings are effectively powerless. On the brightest night, empowered Nightwings experience the full strength of their abilities. Seers can easily look down many different paths into the distant future, and mind readers can easily examine any information in the mind of another dragon. Of course, the phases of the three moons are not synchronous. Most of the time, the moons are all in different states, and empowered Nightwings experience abilities somewhere in between those extremes.

Above, I said that the "strength" of Nightwing abilities doesn't really vary per dragon. Strength, as I use the term here, only refers to the raw potential to look into the future or into another dragon's mind. But different individuals do have different levels of adeptness when it comes to applying their abilities. On the brightest night, any seer can look with relative ease into the far future, down multiple timelines, examining subtle ripples of possibility. The rest of the time, most seers can't use their abilities on that level, but a particularly adept one can get closer. What makes one seer more adept than another? Well, it's really just training. If you're someone who, for whatever reason, keeps looking into the future, over time you'll get better at it, just like anything you keep doing. This is what sets Clearsight apart from her peers. She isn't more blessed by the moons than them, because no seer is more blessed by the moons than any other. Clearsight just looks into the future all the time, to a degree nobody else does. She works harder on her visions than any other seer, so her abilities are more advanced than those of any other seer.

There is one exception to the maxim "no seer is more blessed by the moons than any other". The special gift of the thrice-moonborn is that they are exempt from the cyclical waning and waxing of power with the phases of the moons. They hatch on the brightest night, and its power soaks into them and becomes permanently part of them. And so, they live as if every night is a brightest night. They always have the potential to see the ripples that spread into many distant futures, and they can always pluck any information they want out of another dragon's mind. What other Nightwings may train and train for, these dragons do as easily as they breathe.

There are few Nightwings who never dreamed as dragonets about what it would be like to have hatched under three full moons. How different their lives could have been from those of the common powerless Nightwing, or even ordinary seers and mind readers! And not just directly because of what they could see: the thrice-moonborn are almost inevitably beloved by their tribe, showered with attention, and elevated to the highest strata of society. Wouldn't that be nice, think the dragons who could have walked that path but for something as meaningless as the sky under which they hatched.

It's unsurprising that many covet that life, but it's not entirely as pleasant as they imagine. The adulation that surrounds the most powerful Nightwings is instrumental. As laid out in excruciating detail just behind the eyes of smiling dragons, few love them for who they are; many more love them for what they are. They will never have any interaction with friends or family that isn't fundamentally shaped by the asymmetrical power dynamic implied by their abilities. It's easy for a dragon in that situation to become profoundly isolated, especially without support. But the brightest night comes so rarely that most Nightwings who receive its gift will grow up with neither peers, nor mentors who can relate to these experiences. That many ultimately respond in unhealthy, self-destructive ways is a given; that the self-destruction of such powerful dragons often also destroys those around them is a recurring tragedy in the history of the tribe.

But it's not inevitable. No dragon's fate is actually written in the stars or sealed by the moons. It's always possible to choose a different future.

[tequitoclown]

Welcome to my page!

[pt: Welcome to my page! ./end pt]

Hi, I'm TequitoClown, but just Tequito is fine! We're a plural system of 3 individuals called The Cassette Crew. You can collectively call us Cass as well! Artist, so-called writer, rockhound, and certified gamer creature.

Please keep in mind we have chronic fatigue and memory issues, so please be patient and feel free to bump our DMs if we don't respond! Also we use I/we interchangeably lol.

There will be no discourse here. Don't ask for my system origins unless we're friends. We love good-faith identities and all systems!

Bluesky • Toyhouse • Art blog • Aesthetic blog

Mutuals can ask for our Discord or Telegram!

Tee 🐾(He/They/It): Host! Frontstuck a LOT and probably the one you'll talk to the most. Easily overwhelmed but trying my best!

No Saviour 🌌 (He/Him): The funniest headmate. I'm Palkia! I front the least of the bunch, but I'm ironically the most social! I'm very easily excited and entertained!

Alto 🐉 (They/Them): Wyvern, fresh off the presses. I'm the logical one... sometimes. Nobody can figure out my accent and I can't figure out my gender.

Tags below the cut! (There's a lot sorry)

[pt: my tags below the cut! (There's a lot sorry) ./end pt]

#Tequito.txt: All our posts!

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#No Saviour 🌌: No Saviour's posts!

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#Tequitos Art: Our artwork! (Most of which is on my artblog now!)

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Any and all triggers I can think of will be tagged. If you'd like me to tag something specific, please DM me or send an ask!

[lpdwillwrite4coffee]

Okay y'all. This is the story of how I owe $17,000 to the guy who propositioned me during family night at a local brewery and now I'm committed to bringing sensible wine options to his house for Thanksgiving.

Our tale begins like most do - panic crying in the living room while my house floods. Because of a freak polar vortex like day in February, my old drafty house and the rust bucket of a boiler in the cellar created a horrific one-two punch that ended in me nearly freezing to death in my own home and almost all of my heating pipes cracking and leaking, flooding my first floor and basement. It was terrifying, beyond stressful, and most importantly to this story, expensive.

After 2 and a half months of living in a hotel, battling insurance companies, daily anxiety attacks, and having 4 grand of insurance money stolen by my bipolar, narcissistic mother, I hit my absolute fucking limit. Friends of mine who are much better off financially than I have ever been in my life offered to help me out of the dark, lonely, and cold hole I'd wound up in. Three text messages and a lot of tears later, I was in possession of a check for $17,000 and had an official start date for construction. Praise Dolly.

A hop, skip, and a jump through time and we're now in July. I'm paying my friends back in monthly installments and trying not to crumble from the knowledge that it will take me 4 or 5 years of consistent payments to get out from under this loan. But at least I have heat. It's the little things I guess.

My friend, let's call him Mitch, and his wife, who unfortunately shares my name but for this we'll call her Lucette, are kindly checking in on me and inviting me to coffee/dinner/drinks to hang out. Things seem like they're back on track to being normal.

Lucette gets a new job that requires a ton of travel, so I don't see her as much as I do Mitch, but that doesn't bother me, as Lucette and I were never particularly close and spending more than an hour of time with her makes me feel like a dirt poor 19 year old who showed up to a nice dinner party in paint stained jeans and a ripped band tee. We are not energetic or socioeconomic equals.

One weekend, Mitch and I get drinks just to catch up, and he tells me that him and Lucette have made the decision to try out ENM (ethical non-monogamy). They've been married for 7 years, have had a bit of a dry spell due to pandemic close proximity, and there's just the general vibe that they want to try new things. I get it! And I'm encouraging. Life is too short for bad sex, I tell him, and he's thankful I'm not judging them. We have a good laugh about it all - particularly the bit about them seeing my profile on Feeld, as they have one too - and after another beer, I go home.

This is probably the part of the movie where the music changes, warning the viewer that some event is looming and possibly dangerous for our protagonist. If only life had such a soundtrack I could hear.

Throughout the summer and into September Mitch and I see more of each other and I take notice of the uptick in chill weekend day drinking and texts. Nothing about it feels off or motivated by anything other than being bored and wanting to hang out with a friend. And because I know about his ENM journey, I think there's the appeal there of getting to speak freely to someone who won't wrinkle their nose and make jokes about bringing pineapples to neighborhood BBQs. In a stunning change of mental pace, I don't overanalyze it. Perhaps this was a mistake.

One morning I wake up a text from Mitch cancelling plans. I'm secretly thrilled - I didn't want to shower that day anyway. But I can also tell something has gone horribly wrong on his end, but he doesn't say what, so I just "yeah, sure, let me know when you're free next" my way out of the conversation.

When we do talk next, he tells me why he cancelled. Lucette cheated on Mitch during a work trip. They'd established rules within their ENM arrangement that she broke. And she broke them loudly, multiple times, and with her iPad still logged in and left on the kitchen counter in full view of Mitch. Horrible words are said, declarations of 'the best sex of her life' are sent to several group chats, pictures are seen. It's bad.

Mitch is unwell. I comfort him as best as I can and he tells me that he and Lucette aren't pulling the divorce lever yet, but he's still heartbroken and scared he's going to lose his marriage. I feel awful for him. I offer to buy him another beer. He shows me the texts he saw. It's officially A Lot.

From that day on, I become his "my wife cheated on me with the guy she told me not to worry about" therapist friend who he can unload on and get sympathetic words in return. I've been imprinted on by the depressed baby bird hatched by infidelity and low self-esteem. It's not the first time, and I'm certain it won't be the last.

Tell me, how's that soundtrack only you, the audience, can hear? I bet it's tense and full of cello.

A few weeks later, I get a head cold. It's not the end of the world but it's annoying. I'm fevered, stuffy, exhausted, and I have not a drop of soup or broth in my home. Mitch sees my Instagram story about being sick and offers to bring me soup. "Aww, that's so nice of you, thank you." "Of course! I'll go get it and be right over." "Awesome! Just text me when you drop it off." Thirty minutes later my doorbell rings. My dogs bark their heads off. I'm a little annoyed. The bell rings again. I see Mitch's car in my driveway. I mutter to myself about why he didn't just leave it on the steps as I go to the door. I look disgusting and I'm flushed with a solid 100.2 fever, but I guess I'm having face time with Mitch now. I open the door and he hands over the soup almost immediately, but with an odd look on his face. I thank him and ask what I owe, but he refuses for me to pay him back. I thank him again. He doesn't make a move to leave. I tell him I'd invite him in but.... *gestures widely to the PJs I've worn for 3 days in a row and the broken capillaries in my nose and the dogs still barking behind the second entryway door* He smiles awkwardly and says it's okay. He still doesn't leave. "So... how are you, Mitch?" His shoulders slump. "I'm not doing great."

Ah. There it is. Mystery solved. My time has been bought with soup and he's lingering to collect on it. So I lean on my door, sniff back a disgusting level of mucus, and brace myself for whatever is about to be said. Turns out, Lucette couldn't stop texting the Best Sex Ever guy and possibly is fixated on him due to some weird aging hot girl nonsense. Mitch tells me he and Lucette are separating. She's sleeping in her home office. The mess got messier. I tell him I'm so incredibly sorry, this is awful, etc etc etc. He stays for 20 minutes to tell me all of this and get as much of a pep talk as I can muster while trying not to sneeze directly in his eyes.

In the interim, I've gotten several strangely loaded texts from Lucette, telling me she's glad Mitch has me and that she knows he values my friendship and advice on things. Alexa, play "She Knows." But I keep things as vague as possible, because I don't want to shove myself even more in the middle. I didn't choose to be imprinted on, but I can choose not to encourage a more permanent bond. Call me a wildlife rehabilitation center.

Being sick takes me out of commission for a while, and I have to reschedule multiple things, including getting beer with Mitch. That doesn't deter him from messaging me of course, but I don't see him for a couple weeks. When I'm feeling better, I tell him we should check out a brewery we've never been to before and we set a day.

This is probably the part when the audience yells as the protagonist not to go. Don't get in the car. Stay home.

Ah, to not be a participant in the narrative.

I get to the brewery and immediately I notice 2 things: 1, it's family Sunday Funday, and 2, the vibes around Mitch are........uncomfy. I turn into a socially anxious motormouth. I can't stop talking about literally everything that doesn't matter, including the child at the table next to us playing a solo game of Uno and the 80's music playlist. I order my beer and finally force myself to chill tf out. Maybe I've picked up on a vibe that has nothing to do with me. Maybe he's just feeling weird. Maybe I'm just insane. All of these options are valid.

Halfway thru our drinks, Mitch brings up the odd texts from Lucette. "I think I know why she was being weird with you." "Oh? Why?" I sip my beer and wait. He says, "So, back when Lucette and I decided to open up our marriage, we had a discussion about who we'd see ourselves dating..."

Hey audience, how's that music crescendo?

I blink. Mitch gestures with his beer. "And obviously, your name was at the top of my list."

And because I'm the definition of smooth, I practically shout, "REALLY???" so loudly 5 people turn around and look at me. Mitch doesn't even look away from me. Instead, he stares deeper into my eyes and asks, "Do you ever see that becoming a possibility?"

Me. Dating Mitch. After months of supporting him through a painful, messy separation that hasn't even really become official. After knowing way too much about his sex life. After all the sad boy memes and depressed 1am texts he's sent. After being forced to read his angry, sexually charged break up poetry in front of him 2 beers in at the bar.

AFTER I HAD TO BORROW $17,000 FROM HIM AND LUCETTE.

I verbally flounder for a painfully long 12 seconds while watching that little girl beat herself with another Uno Reverse card, and finally land on a gentle but firm rejection of the idea. I don't have a chance to mentally process all the messed up parts to this messed up puzzle in the moment but when I get home it starts to click.

They had that conversation in the spring. Around the time that I had to borrow the money in the first place. And while I don't have proof, I can almost guarantee that Lucette vetoed Mitch's suggestion of bringing me into their situation, and now that they're breaking up, he feels like he can take a swing at it (pun? unintended?)

Which means that every single interaction, every single conversation and hang out, every single dollar bill I borrowed is colored with the knowledge I now possess which is that Mitch, for however long, has wanted to fuck me. He's wanted to fuck me so. Goddamn. Bad.

Audience, I bet you're the star at your optometrist's office with all that 20/20 vision. I'm honestly jealous.

No wonder Lucette was sending probing texts with the energy of "I know you know, and now you know I know." No wonder Mitch attached himself to me like a duckling trying to cross a busy road. No wonder both of them were so earnestly checking on me when I first moved back into my house. NO WONDER MY SUBCONSCIOUS MIND HAD BEEN SCREAMING "YOU'RE IN DANGER GIRL" FOR WEEKS.

And before ALL of this, Mitch had organized Thanksgiving at his house since Lucette would be out of town, and one of his friends created a list of what people can bring. I signed up for wine, since it means I don't have to cook. And when this entire thing came to a head, I started to write an "I'm bailing" text to Mitch. But before I could pull that trigger, our mutual friend messaged me to say how happy she is that I'll be there and that she's missed me.

So now, after finding out that Mitch has wanted to get his dick in me for months (if not longer) without even considering the power imbalance of me owing him SEVENTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS, I have to pick out a sensible red and white wine and show up at his house at 2pm on Thursday.

Audience. Reader. Friends. I am.... stressed. And in serious debt.

And apparently hot enough to possibly instigate an argument between spouses.

Cue the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving song. This year I'm grateful for autonomy and friends willing to come up with a code word in case I need to escape quickly.

[lewis-winters]

If there comes a Sherlock-esque fic for BoB... Who would be Sherlock and Watson between

1. Lewis Nixon and Dick Winters

2. Carwood Lipton and Ron Speirs

3. David Webster and Joe Liebgott

And what kind of Sherlock and Watson on each ship.

I love how this is worded like you're running a survey for an upcoming fic you're making anon HAHAHAHHAA are you 👀👀👀👀??? I'll be keeping my eyes peeled.

1) Winnix

Lew is Sherlock of course. It's the addictive personality. You could probably do something very Elementary-esque with this one, and have Dick come into his life as his sponsor. People forget that in-canon, Lew may have been lazy but he was brilliant, a damn fine intelligence officer, and Dick himself said that. The only thing you're gonna have to explain away is his laziness and his motives for wanting cases.

I guess you just have to also remember that every iteration of Sherlock Holmes is always driven by a search for the truth. Not justice, mind you, though that's my personal interpretation of the character. I prefer my Sherlocks to operate outside of the scope of Lawful Good, and I think Lew's iteration of him would, too. Which I think would be perfect for a Sherlock Holmes!Lewis Nixon iteration, because something about him just SCREAMS chaos. And also his upbringing would lend that world view some credence.

Literally, I could see him as the embodiment of "I'm of the opinion that people shouldn't go to jail for objectively funny crimes." Which would clash with Dick's sense of justice nicely, especially if you'd like some commentary, in text, about police brutality and the failures of the justice system. They would clash, with Dick being an ex-military man and Lew being... whatever he is. But I also think Dick becomes kinda blind to Lew's shortcomings, I mean. He always has. He's definitely the kind of Watson who thinks, unironically, that Nix is the smartest person in the room. And Dick's blind faith in him could probably pull Nix out of the grave he's found himself dug into. He would always want to be the type of man who deserves someone like Dick Winters. WHICH now that I think about it, would be a VERY interesting motivation for him to solve mysteries, as it were.

2) Speirton

Ronald Speirs. And this Sherlock WOULD be a cop. Lmao, sorry Ron, but like even in canon Ron is following rules to a tee because that's how he sees the world and that's how he knows, for sure, that he's going to keep the people he cares about safe. That's why his reactions to Carver was a big thing right? I've already said it before, but his sudden deviance from order and chain of command in episode 10 (when in all the other episodes the worst he'd been doing was stealing) was his whole breakdown and an illustration of how the war was capable of fucking even his unerring moral compass/alignment. But I digress.

His Sherlock would be a cop. I say that with as much love in the world as I could (lmao ACAB amirite). If Lewis' Sherlock was anti-copaganda, Ron's would be copaganda the likes of Law-&-Order. You could go down that road too and make Lip like... the ADA who thinks he's brilliant, despite how unorthodox his methods may be, and works hard to transcribe Ron's deductions into something that could feasibly hold up in court. Ya know? Have fun with it!

3) Webgott

David Webster. And this Sherlock is AUTISTIC as they all fucking come. He's a disaster. His morbid curiousity gets him off the wrong foot with everyone he meets. He's an asshole. His flat is a disaster only he can navigate. He has body parts in his fridge. Dangerous chemicals in his cupboards. He is the embodiment of every picked upon nerd in high school except he is a grown ass man with a PhD under his belt. He's an anarchist but he was also raised rich. He doesn't like to do his own dishes because he touched wet food once and it sent him into sensory overload so bad he switched all his plates to disposable ones.

In contrast, Joe's Watson would be much like the Watson from that russian Sherlock Holmes-- no not the 1980 version, the 2013 one, where Sherlock is a nerd with glasses and there's an emphasis on Watson's POV and his motivations as someone who is a doctor AND a soldier. It was really interesting, actually, and you should give it a watch! Anyway, Joe's Watson is definitely a fighter. You will not forget his Army background. You will not forget that this man has seen Horrors. You will not forget that this man is brilliant, too, just in different ways. He sees things Web misses, but he also gives credit to Web where credit is due. However begrudgingly he might do it.

Their coupling would be like two sides of a coin, or two puzzle pieces, I think, but they'd have a rough start. Web's too arrogant, Joe's too tightly wound. They fight a lot, because Web's been alone for so long that he's forgotten to share, forgotten how to articulate himself well enough for another person to understand-- but that's the thing. Joe Knows him in ways Web thought he'd been above wanting. Web doesn't quite understand Joe, but the fact that he's so willing to try despite being so difficult, previously, is not lost on Joe, either. They both say trust is difficult for them to cultivate but they trust each other explicitly, almost as soon as they meet each other-- which annoys them to no end. They literally DO NOT want to think about how quickly the other has become their ride and die because they'd rather bitch about it than have any self-reflection, bless them. But you can't deny that their Old Married Couple vibes is there from the beginning.

Their Final Problem would be devastating. Just saying.

[thejvde]

Il qui m'aime beaucoup

I had missed him for so long this time. I was always a believer of the phrase absence makes the heart grow fonder, because I loved this man with all my heart and every time I saw him it grew bigger than before. Somehow. 

I was waiting for him to glide down those escalators ever so swiftly so I could leap right into his arms. 

I looked up at the screen with the highlighted green 'arrived' dashed by his flight inbound from Toronto. I waited in anticipation. 

A text shot through my phone.

*PING* “Coming to you now”

It read.

I stood up and walked closer to the escalators to meet him and there he was slipping his phone back into his pocket on his way down. He was clad in black Under Armour joggers, a white fitted tee and a black trench coat, rolling his carry on by his side.

The corners of my lips perked up when his eyes met mine and he returned the gesture with that familiar glint in his eye.

It was almost as if he somehow sped up the escalator with just how intently he was looking at me. We have both been super busy, him with his Clients and me with my events and bookings, its been nearly a month! 

He finally reached the bottom and smiled “Hey baby” his velvet voice rumbled as he opened his arm for me. I threw my arms around his neck and he grabbed my waist and pulled me up to him. 

“Bonjour, mon amour!” I spoke to him “I missed you so much!”

“Same here” he said putting me down. Grabbing his suitcase with one hand and my hand firmly in the other we began toward the ground level. 

One of my favorite things about him is how emotionally intune he was, all the while still maintaining absolute stoicness on the outside. Unlike myself who wears just about everything on my sleeve. To the outside person he looked like your typical stern hardshell mogul with a particularly rigid and uninterested appearance, but the way his grip held my hand told me completely otherwise. He’s really just a sweet ole Great Dane!

“Baggage Claim?” I asked him, even though I knew the answer, he’s a light packer. 

“Nope.” He responded. We proceed to the garage. Soon as we got into the vehicle he turned to me and grabbed my chin. Leaning in, he embraced my lips longingly and passionate with a hint of desperate laced in. A smile draped my lips as I reciprocated the action causing him to follow suit.

Chuckling he pulled away “You know, I needed that” he said, I smiled and began to pull out of the airport.

“I know” I smirked “Moi aussi”

——

“Le Maison Delano?” He looked over at me in question. 

“Oui, I really like the small elegance of it”

I responded.

“Yeah, I remember when we stayed here last year, great job babe”

Unpacking the car and rolling in his things, we headed upstairs. Immediately when we got into the room he grabbed me and swung me on the bed. 

I giggled “excited are we?” I joked.

“Very” he growled “ im so excited to be doing this with you”

“I swear you get so sentimental, sometimes” I kissed him while he waded in between my legs. I stroked his stray hairs out of his face and we played and hugged each other. 

“You’re rare, Jade”

“So are you mon amour” he reached up, grabbed my face and embraced my lips. I met his intensity with my own flame and soon we rocked each other right there on the bed. Ughhh it was moments like these that grew me all the way in, I grinded my hips against his as my own arousal began to stir to life. 

“Mmmm” I moaned as he tugged on my bottom lip with his teeth.

“Heh heh you’re no saint” he teased which only made me want him more! I pulled the hairs at his nape confirming his exact notion and gazed into his dark disturbed eyes. He laughed and I smiled gipping a thicker chunk and tugging his head to the side exposing his perfect sharp jawline. He grunted in my mouth from the pain and it was so hot. If he wasn’t careful id take him right then and there. Flipping us over I climbed into his lap and he inched further on the bed and sat upright, me straddling him. His grip on my waist motivated me and fueled my longing. There was truly no one who did it like him and equally understood how and what I needed. Intuitively.

...

[katamaridamacyonline]

hello everyone my name is mirakatie gaming snazzycd smilepart2 and today we’re playing five nights at fr

basic info stuff: 

-I go by Mira and Katie use whichever name you feel like I don’t care

-She/Her/It

-Trans Girl  bi sapphic

-please never use masc gendered terms on me even as a joke please

- 17 [This means i am a minor {so nsfw accounts do not interact}]

- white

-I occasional draw and make other shit (but not too often cause horrible lack of motivation lol)

-snazzycd is the username i go by on most other sites 

silly little media interests:

-Katamari (insane special interest tee hee)

-Kill The Past games

-AI The Somnium Files

-Danganronpa (I always tag this one so feel free to filter it if you don’t wanna see it lol)

-Splatoon

-Valve Games

Thingz 2 know before following:

-sometimes i purposefully leave a lot of typos in my text cause it’s silly and fun so don’t be confused when i do that :3

-I enjoy getting asks, anon or not, so feel free to send those if you feel inclined

-I don't usually like being DMed because it make me nervous so I’d prefer if you avoided that unless you really feel the need to tell me something privately

-I use headcanon pronouns for certain characters, currently these include: Tails (she/her) Shoma Enda (she/her) and Shiver from Splatoon (whatever pronoun i feel like at the given moment)

-Also I fully believe Chihiro Fujisaki is a trans woman and I use she/her for her and if you disagree i will not argue and will simply block you <3 (fandom discourse is lame and i will not participate in it)

-i am the coolest person on this site (fact proven by science nd shit like that)

Other Sites:

I don’t feel like listing a bunch of links so here’s my twitter where i’m a bit more active on than here i’ll add some others later i guess

[lost-batarang]

Kon-El, The 'Superboy'

Kon sat in the black, roof-less, sleek car wearing his leather jacket, which he'd recently embroidered an 'S' Superman symbol onto the shoulder, the text 'Don't mess with the' above it, one of Tim's old red shirts underneath it, and a pair of slightly ripped jeans, leaning on the car door as he drives past staring at nothing but long, plain fields of healthy green grass and a shining sun in an unpolluted sky. He yawns as he turns back to the road, reaching to rub his eyes . "Fuck! Oh shit man, forgot my sunglasses!" Kon said, his bored expression turning sour, slapping his head as he stops the car, stopping next to a large barnhouse, alongside multiple crop fields and a small house, home of the Kents. Clark left the house, opening the blue-wooden door and readjusting his black square glasses, wearing a cyan-button-up tee, w/a pair of jeans muddy from farmwork. "Kon!?!" Clark yelled surprised, rushing over to Kon's car as it came to a halt. "I- You can drive now!?!? You're- do you even have a license!?" He continues, mildly shocked and very confused. Kon smirks and raises one of his hands off the wheel, waving it to Clark as he smiles and speaks; "TTK, Bitches! Anything I touch I can levitate, allowing me to mimic super-strength, and it also gives me a forcefield allowing me to mimic your indestructi-" Kon continues, his voice being ignored by Clark who sighs, relieved, and nods, smiling, trying to be nice. Lois Lane comes from the house, wearing a red longsleeve button-up shirt, and a pair of dark jeans. She walks over to Clark, unimpressed by Kon's ramblings. She turns to Clark, speaking; "Lecturing you on his Tactile Telekinesis again, huh?" She whispers to him, smiling slightly. "Kon! This is all interesting, but can you leave the TTK lecture for later?" She says, yelling towards Kon, who is interrupted by her, stopping his ramblings. "Oh!- Sorry Lois. Wait- Where's Jon? Shouldn't he be with you?" Kon says, slightly embarrassed but then confused as he sees Jon's absence- Jon was the only one who listened to his TTK lectures. "Oh, he's with Robin. The, uh, new one." Clark says somewhat awkwardly, trying to recount how many Robins there actually were. "Oh. Huh. Anyway, Clark, you gonna make those pancakes you did last time? They were killer." Kon says, confused but the confusion quickly fades as he returns to his regular composure, asking about pancakes.

didn't finish this 'cause i lost direction + motivation. lemme know if i should finish it.