#RIB HAVE A CHANNELL?!?!
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Animation Tests!
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My first video on my channel yoooo!! 👀
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#Rib Rabbit Mask Yt video#RIB HAVE A CHANNELL?!?!#<- yes i have :)#utmv community#art community#animation#animation compilation#animation test#digital art#art#my art#my animation tests#rough animations#first video#youtube
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//not me hc-ing that every time Adam discovered something for the first time, he got an X-box Achievement Unlocked button popping up in the sky for each thing.
#//and he doesn't even have to be doing the thing-#//only perceive it#//just randomly sitting in a field watching all the animals get wild on discovery channel and u just hear a PING#//doggy style unlocked-#//END ME-#suggestive cw#nasty skeu cw#deletedeletedelete#crack'd out ribs ; //#hc ; // the ribs are bussin'
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!! it’s very silly and unserious and the only reason it’s long is because it’s so vivid in my head. unedited as hell </3
nosy neighbours tf 141 got me giggling. and it’s not even inherently sexy nor attractive, it’s really just them being in people’s (or a person’s) business.
thinking about how, in retirement, they still bought a house together because it’s so odd to have separate lives. and so they bought one in the suburbs, with five bedrooms and four baths, and a really big backyard. kyle picked up gardening so the backyard was not just a plus but a damn requirement.
so they move in, not giving a damn about that one old WASP couple across the street watching them all with a sneer because apparently moving in with your mates is unusual. well, whatever. fuck them.
then they meet their new neighbour. you’re single—divorced, price would tell them later—whose life is centred around your 9 to 5 job at an office in the city which you wake up at 5am for.
you leave the house at 6:30am and then amble back home when it’s pushing 8pm. it’s a boring life; a boring routine. not even your little front lawn of cared-for wild flowers managed to hold their attention longer than a day.
so with that said, they’d like to go on a record and say that it’s all johnny’s fault.
friday evening, he started the game by saying, “she bought a baguette.” he paused. “and a bottle? it's shaped like lube?”
john blinked, setting his book down. “what.”
mactavish shrugged, still peering from the crack in the curtains. kyle walked in then, his apron all dirtied. “hey, i’m craving a baguette.”
johnny laughed and looked at price like price was supposed to get something from that. of course he didn’t, but johnny’s always been good at carrying the momentum so, to no one’s surprise, he repeats the observation three days after the previous one.
“bag’o coal and lemon bread. what the hell.”
“that’s a disgusting dinner combo,” kyle chirps, switching the channels.
simon throws a pillow at him because he had been watching a documentary about moths when kyle changed the program without asking him.
“it’s just monday,” john finally replies, cementing his participation in the game. “why’s she buying lem—did she not grocery shop?”
johnny looks at him, wide-eyed. “that’s a good question, sir.” then he turns, ignoring them again to peer at their neighbour. john’s sure you’re back in your home so he really doesn’t know what johnny’s watching at that point.
simon was successful at wrestling the remote control back to him, and the program’s returned to the moths.
.
thursday evening, two and a half weeks after monday’s lemon bread and bag of coal, the game picks up again.
“who the hell makes a rug purchase during the weekdays?” kyle asks, his voice teetering between fascination and concern.
“how long’s the rug?” johnny replies, all of them watching as kyle stands in front of that slip of window they now use for ‘bird watching.’
kyle spreads his arms out—2.5 ft.
“huh,” johnny says. “for the toilet, you reckon?”
“probably for the cat, actually,” simon cuts in.
“what cat.” john doesn’t even know who asked that, but really—what cat?
“a round thing,” simon answers. “grey fur.”
“aww,” johnny croons. “that’s cute.”
john sighs and turns back to the morning paper’s crossword puzzle for the day.
.
you don’t join the neighbourhood’s annual summer barbecue party much to their disappointment. although, in all fairness, john understands your decision because they wouldn’t have gone to it anyway had they not found out that the host this year was going to be that WASP couple who still sneered at them every chance they get.
the wife, of course, couldn’t turn them away in front of the other neighbours who particularly loved kyle and, shockingly, simon so there they are, eating what is begrudgingly some good ribs while listening to the neighbourhood gossip.
and while each story was riveting, nothing could honestly hold a candle to their ‘bird’ and your peculiar grocery runs.
.
one evening, you come home with a man. john tells them it’s your ex-husband, admitting to them that yes, he’s now used up their once-a-month pass to accessing ‘special’ resources with regards to finding more about you.
“think they’re fuckin’?” johnny asks, no longer feigning disinterest.
kyle groans because it had been more than a minute now since johnny dropped a card from his stack; they tried their best to be patient as they waited, thinking mactavish needed more time since, apparently, he’s never played cards before—growing up as a catholic boy, he’s always been told that any form of gambling was a gateway to eternal damnation.
john didn’t have the heart to tell him that you didn’t have to make bets to be able to play cards.
“maybe,” simon replies, ignoring kyle’s angry grumbling. “why else would she bring him home? her house ain’t really a wonder.”
“…how do you know that?” kyle asks, his words measured and slowed.
simon blinks, then he sniffs, before looking away.
“hey!” mactavish screams, catching on. “we agreed no tampering with anythin’ of ‘ers!”
“yeah? well tell ‘at to cap’n too—he was already there when i broke in.”
johnny turns to him with a theatrical betrayed look. kyle drops his head on the table because the game’s been fully abandoned now.
“sir,” johnny says, his voice airy like he’s speaking mid-gasp. “you didn’t.”
john licks the back of his teeth, then, “jus’ wanted to see ‘er cat, s’all.”
.
the ex-husband leaves three hours later with a familiar rug tucked to his side.
.
“huh,” simon murmurs, his voice so faint that john almost missed it. “tulips and tuna today.”
johnny and kyle would’ve loved the update but the two are away for the week.
john messages it to the group chat.
suds (19:21)
> holy shit she’s improving.
.
oddly enough, it took them six months since they moved in for them to finally talk to you.
or, well, for you to talk to them.
“i’m havin’ a yard sale tomorrow,” you say after the introductions have passed, your lips tugged up in a shy smile.
john honestly couldn’t even remember how he used to envision you—old age caught up to him and for a whole while, you were nothing but a coloured blob in his eyes since they turned out to be more damaged than expected—but whatever that had been was erased the moment you stood before them.
shy and awkward, your back slouched just a little like you’re trying to curl into yourself in the face of their rapt attention, but even then you’re beautiful.
“yeah?” kyle asks, smiling; the first to break out of the trance you put them into. “and would y’need help, pretty miss?”
“oh, you,” you murmur, strained laughter peeling from your lips. “and yeah, i do. would that be alright? i tried moving my old couch downstairs and my back almost gave out. i swear, i thought i was going to see the lord today.”
johnny laughs, loud and booming. “well we’re glad that you didn’t die today, otherwise who would take care of little truffle, huh?”
john barely stopped himself from heaving out a loud sigh, an attempt made more challenging when he caught the way kyle whirled his head to glare at mactavish, the act not any less subtle since it startled you too. simon grumbles something incoherent—it’s lost amidst johnny’s petering laugh and your swelling horror.
“…how, exactly, do you know my cat’s name?”
#suns#task force 141#cod x reader#task force 141 headcanons#johnny soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#simon ghost riley
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PICK A CARD: What are your most alluring qualities?
🂺 "Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears." ~ Edgar Allen Poe~
Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is meant to help uplift your spirit and highlight qualities about you that transcend space and time and manage to energetically get picked up by lil ol' me. Who then tries to put that inexplicable beauty into words. :)
p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4
☀︎ Pile One ☀︎ (nine of cups, magician rev., moon rev.,hanged man, page of cups, queen of cups)
⇾ Pink. Yellow. Fuzzy. This feels so warm, there's heat around my waist. Maybe you’re a dancer? Do you like to wear very big pullovers or extra garments around your waist? Corsets? I’m getting a strong emphasis with an attraction toward your waistline. Also, a very airy feeling in my ribs. ⇾ You’re fucking hilarious. Your ability to uplift any room’s vibe is extremely attractive. Strong water energy, Cancer, Pisces, Scorpio, 4th, 8th, 12th house. But not as emotionally heavy. Not the thunderstorm but the sunny, dewy morning after. Literal sunshine. You may have a signature scent. Coconut, vanilla, brown sugar. Before shuffling your cards, my nose was congested but while I was channeling, I had these moments where air would pass through the room, clear my sinuses, and the tingling feeling in my ribs came back. ⇾ You’re a high. A nice clean, mellow high. The brief moments in time when your body completely relaxes and you start flowing with the wind. People are addicted to how you make them feel. Your energy feels like the first hit of that oui. wink wink. People get a hit of your energy and it feels like an escape. This is my intuitive and sensitive dreamy pile. There is a lot of emotional depth here, you’re enigmatic. Being in your presence transports people to a simpler time in their lives. A period where the sun shined brighter, the air was cleaner, and all the color in the world felt more vivid. People can sense the storm raging in the back of your head but can visually see your perseverance and ability to not let darkness rot you, keeping this light and airy energy. It’s almost superhuman, you almost seem not real. You’re impossibly infectious. ⇾ You have a lot of natural inner abundance, you attract a lot in life even if you don’t realize it. I’m getting moksha house energy, a strong wheelhouse of influential power. The duality of your sweet, caring but reserved introspective nature is sexy as fuck, to be honest. It is hypnotizing and ignites people. I also see you have attractive skin, whether it’s clear, glowy, or cute moles, I'm not sure. But something about your skin people just can’t help but want to trace and admire. Jupiter/Pisces energy. Sugary sweet and in your own world, I feel like I have a toothache. Rare kind and light energy. Your attractiveness and romantic influence on people is one of your natural talents pile 1. I can see that with the Jupiterian energy I'm getting. You got 3 major arcana cards back to back. You’re a light in the dark and people are moths to a flame.
"You're pretty like a memory"
☀︎ Pile Two ☀︎ (ace of swords, the tower, knight of swords, 6 of swords rev, the magician, 3 of wands)
⇾ Well for starters, you’re SEXXXYYYY. Not just physically, but your wit, intelligence…people’s attraction to you gives me the image of Joan of Arc’s admirers. People perceive you as gorgeous, brave, and intimidatingly capable. ⇾ I’m getting Uranian energy, Yes, something about you is very mercurial, but this is next level. In modern astrology, Uranus is a higher octave of Mercury and symbolizes putting these higher-level ideas into action. Your ability to think of a goal and go after it is attractive. Or have a belief and fiercely defend it. I don’t know if you’re aware, but you have an innate ability to monetize or profit off of your ideas and skills. Especially with all this sword energy, the 3 of wands, AND the magician. Mane, you make shit HAPPEN. You make shit shake. A lot of people say they’re going to do things they have no intention of starting or say things they don’t actually believe. You are a rare exception to that. You put your money where your mouth is, and the amount of willpower and intelligence you possess is intimidating yet so very very attractive. ⇾ There’s gotta be some major concentration in your natal chart, a stellium, a reoccurring modality, sign, not sure but your energy is uniquely focused and intense. You may sometimes battle with excess mental energy. Anxiety, overthinking, etc. You’re a harbinger of change. Wherever you go, major changes follow and there is something very important about your energy. Your footprint in this world is larger than the average person’s. Your sense of self and your loyalty to your authenticity and values is highly admirable. *whispers* maybe even enviable, watch out for negative intentions and trust your discernment. ⇾ Whether you’re a man or woman watching this, you intimidate a lot of men. You’re the creme of the crop so to speak. You are the human embodiment of a warrior. Strategic, brave, and your fire cannot be dimmed. You have this eternal energy to you. Your name will be sung long after you leave this Earth. There will be tales and songs about you. There is an emphasis on making a change and legacy here, 10th house/ Capricorn Energy. Solar and Jupiterian energy is possible too, there's a lot of king semblance here. I feel like your frame is very attractive. Defined muscles especially around your neck and shoulders. Fox attractiveness. Sharp features, or some special emphasis with your lips, jaw, and teeth. There is a lot of sexual attraction in this pile. I was shuffling and getting flashes of old Wattpad enemies to lovers and dark academia rivalry fanfiction 😭😭. I’m getting a headrush. Maybe you feel like a headrush to people at times. You might look good in darker, cool-tone colors or have dark hair. ⇾ You make people aware of their shortcomings and that triggers them. You trigger strong emotions in people. People see you as superior to many, you’re either singled out in a crowd positively or negatively. People either love or hate you but it is undeniable that you are sexy and very fucking capable. You also have the ace of wands at the bottom of the deck…like I said…sexy and capable.
"Don't look at me with those eyes"
☀︎ Pile Three ☀︎ (The tower, queen of swords, three of pentacles, queen of wands, 9 of wands)
⇾ This is my dark feminine pile. 🎶Sheee’sssss a maaaann eeeaaatttttttuuuhhhhhhhh🎶, Ironically, the black cat got chosen for this pile. The tower paired with the two queen cards screams shadowy feminine to me, but balanced. The three of pentacles create a bridge between your intense fire and air energy. You balance your shadowy, detached and your fiery, passionate nature and it creates this intoxicating dichotomy that people can not get enough of. ⇾ You also are reserved and guarded, people can tell it is hard to gain your trust and gain access to your inner world so people subconsciously try hard to earn your favor. When I was laying out your cards my eyes got heavy and I felt like I needed to go to bed. You have a very sultry sluggishness to you. Think about Corpse Bride, how her eyes were always low, she moved slowly, and her voice was low. You have a dark veil over your character that is very alluring. There may be an 8th house or Mars emphasis in your natal chart. Make sure to check your planetary midpoints. ⇾ I am getting a Gabriette Betchel vibe. There's a darkness around the eyes of the man standing in the nine of wands. There is a draw to the shape of your eyes, especially if they droop a little or you have sunken eyes. Maybe you like dark makeup if you’re into makeup. This pile definitely had a crush on Morticia Adams growing up. You ARE Morticia Adams. Pretty Rave Girl is playing in my head, I don’t associate your energy with the rave aesthetic but I get the sense that people fantasize about you. You’re naturally mysterious and detached and most people only have an idea of you rather than a one-on-one connection. You may face a lot of projections, there’s fog around people’s perception of you. Plutonian-type power, insanely magnetic, with Neputinian-type glamour, veiled and shapeshifting. There may be some WLW baddies in this collective. ⇾ I feel like a very small number of people truly know you, you are reserved and selective with your energy and let me tell you, that is the most attractive practice a human being can implement. You are a once-in-a-lifetime personality that people dream about embodying. YOU ARE AN AESTHETIC. Well not exactly, I’m not limiting you down to your appearance. But you are the ideal embodiment of the dark feminine, man-eater aesthetic. The other three piles felt like concepts that I tried to piece together to paint a picture, your pile feels like a tried and true timeless dark sexiness that we've seen in cinema and music videos throughout the years. There is range here though, I’m feeling anywhere between Morticia Adams to Effy from Skins. The allure of Hollywood’s bombshells mixed with the angst and self-guardedness of America’s outcasted teen icons. I’m seeing an emerald snake, if you’re into sidereal astrology you may have ashlesha placements. I could write an entire essay about the fucking bullshit you've endured and THRIVED FROM but this is already getting a lil lengthy lol. Just know that you are living testament to the saying “I get knocked down ten times but get up eleven.” Stay sexy pookie.
"You got your HP Lovecraft... your Edgar Allan Poe"
☀︎ Pile Four ☀︎ (high priestess, two of swords, 4 of pentacles, the empress, knight of pentacles, 10 of cups)
⇾ UHHHH THE DRAAMMAAA. Bae, the high priestess FLEW out. You’re angelic. No mf backtalk. I don’t know about the stereotypical angel, but something about your presence is otherworldly. So intense but hard to conceptualize, can’t classify your energy as anything less than angelic. People see you as something holy and righteous. A theme of fairness and divinity is strong here. I’m seeing the virgin (Virgo, purity) and a gavel (libra, balance and fairness.) Your energy is always in a state of balance and harmony. Temperance did not come out, but I’d bet my top dollar that it would have if I kept pulling. ⇾ I’m hearing a steady water stream and the flaps of bird wings. People come to you for peace and tranquility. Your aura is serene and healing. Being near you is like transporting to a haven with clean water, a sustainable garden, fresh air, and BUNNIES. An image of a ton of white bunnies just came to me. This is not an 18+ reading, so I won’t go into detail but bunnies represent fertility and high sexual energy. You have an abundance of creativity. The best representation of people’s attraction to you I can put into words is like seeing raw energy. There’s this movie that came out in 2017 called Annihilation and there’s a scene where the main character comes into contact with pure energy and is so entranced by it that she just stares at it head empty, blankly in complete awe. THAT is how people see you. Like c’mon high priestess, the empress, 10 of cups, don’t ever fucking question yourself. You have an undeniably divine aura. ⇾ You’re a big deal, you're energy is very enlightening and calm but there is a heavy weight to it. Everything you do in life makes an impression and holds weight. Your thoughts matter, your conversation changes lives, and your very presence makes an imprint on people’s souls. Virgo 6th house, libra 7th house, Scorpio 8th house, Pisces 12th house. ⇾ You also have a very stable, Earthy nature to you with the 4 of pentacles and the Empress. To me, this is pure wealth. You will see a lot of luxury in your lifetime. You are a giver, you have a lot to offer the world. You are the epitome of “fill my own cup and let it overflow to those around me.” You share your abundance and prosperity follows you. You have the divine understanding that life is all about balance and what you give, you receive tenfold. ⇾ People think you look really good in white. Blonde hair could be a good look on you. Any aesthetic that involves purity or innocence really suits you. Personally, I’d say you look fucking killer in red hair. ⇾ With the ten of cups, I’m getting major wish-fulfillment vibes. When suitors see you they hear an angelic chime in their ear (I hear it right now) and music starts playing. DREAM GIRL. By the strictest definition too, you’re very dreamy and your allure is cloudy, people are afraid if they touch you, you’ll float away. You could have prominent Neptune placements. Do you like to sing? Harmoney and melodic sounds keep popping up. I'm thinking of Euterpe, the muse of music. ⇾ Your abundance leaks into your appearance (look for aspects to your ascendant, especially Neptune, Jupiter, and the Sun), you look very youthful and hydrated. It’s going to sound creepy but from a biological, primal-lizard brain perspective, you look fruitful and like you'd bear many blessings and children. Your skin is well hydrated and plump, your hair is strong and luscious, and you look overall very healthy.
"Be Not Afraid."
ahhh that was so much fun! to those who resonated with a pile, thank you for giving me the pleasure of experiencing your energy and reading for you. if you liked it let me know :)
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college!sukuna would have you as a sugar baby: exam season edition
college!sukuna masterlist
“You know what, I should just drop out,” you ramble, pacing in your living room, hair disheveled and a pencil behind your ear.
Sukuna just hums, sitting on the sofa while munching on chickpea chips he bought the other day saying that “protein is protein”.
“Or or or… I should find a rich man! Yeah, I should be a sugar baby,” you continue, and he just nods, mindlessly scrolling through the tv channels.
“At least I would be happy with my ass on a yacht. Hey, do you think I have sugar baby material?” You ask him, stopping for a second, thinking. All you get as an answer is a grunt. “Sukuna? Are you even listening to me?” You wave your hand in front of the tv. That catches his attention, but only for a mere quarter of a second.
“What?”
You sigh, exasperated. “Why am I even talking to you?”
“Do a spin,” he says, lowly, still not sparing you a glance, putting a bunch of chips in his mouth. You’re so out of your mind that you actually do, and when you turn around his eyes are on you for the first time since you started talking 30 minutes ago. 30 minutes of straight whines. He’s giving you a once over, gaze fixed over how your oversized sweater is falling from your left shoulder, letting him see the top of your boob. He imagines himself sucking exactly on that spot, your breath by his ear, his mark on your-
“Yeah, I’d pay for you,” he says nonchalantly, getting back to zapping.
“You would?” You say excitedly. “Wait. You would?” You add after a moment, taken aback, your face falling progressively. You whine again. “I’m never going to be a sugar baby,” you finish, sprawling out on the carpet near the sofa he’s sitting on, closing your eyes.
“Yo, I have taste, the fuck you mean?” He replies roughly, looking down at you and slightly kicking you in the ribs. Just enough to barely move you from your star-like pose. You open your eyes, looking up at his four ones, assuming a mocking face.
“Now do you?” You say, doubtful, rolling on your side before sitting up while he’s flipping you off. You’re face to face with his knees. Yeah, knees. Keep it PG.
He gets his elbows on said knees, putting his index finger under your chin to raise your face. “Yeah baby, I’d keep you as my prettiest whore if I had like 50 years more than I do,” he says. Then he immediately adds “But I don’t, so stop fucking complaining and let me watch my damn tv. It’s fucking Saturday, give me a break,” flicking your forehead and blowing on your face at the same time. He tastes like real chickpeas and you’re almost impressed by how the pack of chips didn’t lie about the ingredients. He sprawls back on the sofa, occupying as much space as he can by laying down on his side with one of his hands under his chin, returning to his chickpea chips with the other. You scrunch your face, then pout.
“Then what am I supposed to do? I can’t take 5 exams in a week,” you whine, getting your forehead on the little 7 inches rectangle that is left naturally near his chest.
“Suck it up, pussy boy,” he answers, bored. You’ve been going at it for what feels like an eternity and he’d already have lost his patience if seeing you miserable didn’t get a snort out of him. You turn your head to face him, hair all in your face from the movement, but you don’t have the strength to put it in a more comfortable position.
“You don’t get it,” you sigh, your features turning even more worried. You stay like that long enough to start dozing off (and seeing how sleep deprived you are lately, that’s about 40 seconds max), hearing him clean his hands. Suddenly, you feel his hand brushing on your cheek lightly, moving your hair behind your ear and away from your face.
“You gotta do what you gotta do,” he tells you gruffly, scratching lightly on the top of your head. You hum. You know he’s right. He knows you know you’re capable of doing it. He gives your head a couple more pats before pushing it a bit.
“Go study and stop bothering me now. This tv ain’t gonna watch itself,” he says calmly.
You get up, nodding. “Thanks, man. I know I can always count on you for some backhanded comfort,” you reply, corners of your mouth turning upwards for the first time since exam season started (literally two days ago. Hey, you’re a smiley person!). He grunts, not looking at you again, and you know that’s all you’re going to get from him.
You get back in your room to study, and suddenly he finds himself losing interest in his chips in 15 minutes, the buzzing sound of the voices from the western movie he’s watching merely a background noise. Was it always so quiet when you weren’t around?
#college au#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna fluff#sukuna fluff
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“I’ve just had a thought.”
Kei looks up from his phone, eyes drooping, the hour you’ve spent lounging on the couch rendering him immune to the fact that his neck is bent at a disastrous angle against the armrest. It has you pulling him forward, taking the pillow from under your neck to stuff under his, but it’s a fine trade. Now you can lay against the warmth of his chest and settle into what Kei calls the pre-nap—or, what he used to call it, back when he was still too embarrassed to simply say that he wanted cuddles.
“Woah, careful there," he can't pass up the opportunity to start with. Then, "Good kind or bad kind?”
You hum. “Sickeningly domestic kind.”
“So… good,” he decides after a beat, setting his phone down on the coffee table.
Those long, gentle fingers you love slide into your hair, and it’s a wonder how they’re always able to sate an itch that only manifests itself mere seconds before the touch, just so they can be rubbed away by him and him alone; suspiciously wizard-like. “It’s not like I’m opposed to any of that… Since it’s you.”
Aww.
“Honeycakes—” you coo obnoxiously, disguising his name in the endearment, which gets you exactly what you'd expect—the full moon's circumference of his palm eclipsing your vision, his grip light as he smushes your face around for a while, unable to rid himself of the urge. When he lets go a minute later, you share a mirrored look of contentment, all stupid smiles and rolling eyes, before you settle your ear over his heart and he resumes massaging your scalp.
Whatever video he was watching drones on in the meantime. Something about a supermoon coming up and dropping temperatures… Partly rainy with a high of seventy-three degrees and a low of sixty-eight and—wow, he really got sucked into watching the weather channel... Such old man behavior. But it’s quiet enough to tune out against the steady drum in his ribs, so you both leave it be.
“Your idea, baby.”
“Oh, right. So I was thinking—y’know, when we start buying stuff for the house…”
“Mmhm?”
“For utensils, what if we found the same forks you grew up using, and the same spoons I had, so that our future kid'll have pieces of both of our childhoods already built into theirs? It’d be like our own little mismatched set.” "You're right..." It's quiet for a moment. Then Kei blows out a breath, his mind positively sunnier with the image. “That is sickeningly domestic.”
You open your mouth to defend the idea—because it is a good idea, notes-app worthy, even—when he tacks on, “I’m not saying no. God, you’re just so cute sometimes...” the words followed up by him pulling on your cheek. “Is that why you kept hovering by the drawers when we visited my mom? ‘What if’ my ass—you already found them on google, didn't you?”
Your bubbling laughter gives you away. Because he’s right—they’re in your amazon shopping cart as you speak, just waiting on his two cents.
“What about chopsticks, then? And knives. And spatulas.”
Spatulas? You raise a brow.
Kei only shrugs in response.
“The rest can be new. I don’t want all of it to be us holding onto old things,” you pause. “But my star curtains are non-negotiable.”
“They have holes in them.”
“Those are the cutouts! And you even said they were pretty when the light’s seeping through them.”
“Okay, yes, they are pretty," he relents, setting his glasses down by his phone. Silencing the weather report with a slide of his thumb. “But furnishings aside, we’d still be missing one thing…”
“Tsukishima Kei, I know exactly what you’re thinking…” You find yourself being rolled onto your back, his pupils pushing the golden-brown of his irises to the outer rims as they dilate. “And the answer is no.”
“What?” Kei smirks, almost sing-songy as he trails kisses down your collar. He’s not actually gunning for that part of your life together yet. Key word—yet. You’d both agreed to preserve the first year of your marriage for just the two of you. Figuring out the ins and outs of buying a house together and all the legalities that came with it had been hard enough on its own.
Everything after your one-year anniversary, though, is completely fair game.
“You’re the one who brought up a little Tsukishima…”
#tsukishima kei x reader#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima kei#tsukki#tsukki x reader#tsukishima fluff#loml#happy birthday to the most number one charcter ever#my sweet angel boy (28) (old man)#I WANT TO GIVE HIM A DINOSAUR DAUGHTER#ONE OF ME IS CUTE BUT 2 THO#I MIGHT (Will) LET HIM MAKE ME JUNO
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I think a lot about yqy, who had no specific attachment to gender, feeling dysphoria the first time he realizes that the women in SJ’s bed at the WRP were delicate with elegant soft features. He spends a night turning a copper mirror every which way, struggling to apply cosmetics with shaking hands when something finally clicks and he thinks to himself “I could never look like that, I could never be what Xiao Jiu wants.”
Maybe the thought lingers long enough to drive yqy to action, to bring him down the mountain and into a brothel where the women look eager to eat up this soft spoken man and show him the ways of the world. Unfortunately that’s not what he wants, instead of seeking the delicate touch of a woman he wants to emulate it. It’s hardly unheard of, they manage all sorts of requests at brothels, and this one is simple enough.
The first time YQY sees himself properly done up, his breath catches in his throat. That is, of course, still his face beneath the white powder and red dots, those are his eyes behind the kohl liner, and yet it’s…softer. In a certain light he could almost be called delicate.
The older woman must recognize something in his expression, the hand at his shoulder gently squeezing and apologizing that they don’t have anything in his size, but if he were to return with enough notice, perhaps something could be arranged.
Yue Qingyuan returns.
Again and again and again.
Each time the spells sinks its hooks into him, a fantasy of a different life where he was a different person, one that Shen Qingqiu could bring himself to touch. Maybe even to love. The feelings that inspires cling to him like the last remnants of summer’s warmth, sparking a small joy that lasts throughout the following days until it flickers out, signaling his return.
It’s a noticeable change in Yue Qingyuan. Disciples and peak lords alike notice his improved mood, an errant An Ding disciple sees him browsing hair pins, the fine silk of women’s robes in a market place and a rumor spreads like wild fire.
The sect leader has lover!
It’s not the first time such a thing has been said, Shen Qingqiu tracks these rumors like a farmer tracks the seasons. Each and every time the claims come up unfounded, and yet…when the recent whispers from chatty hall masters reach his ears he listens. This time around, there’s a marked change in Yue Qingyuan.
An improved mood, yes, but not only that there’s…a distraction.
The sect leader’s visits to Qing Jing Peak grow further and further apart, and when he does dare to show his face it’s always followed by a visit cut short, a distant air to his demeanor. Bile turns in Shen Qingqiu’s stomach, a familiar ache in his chest pounds against his rib cage, begging to be freed. It’s the same jagged toothed creature that would bare its fangs when the likes of Shi Wu would dare call out for Qi-ge’s attention.
Shen Qingqiu did not cut Yue Qingyuan out of his heart just for someone to pick up what he discarded.
This bears investigation.
In the dark recesses of Shen Qingqiu’s mind, he’s conjured up an image of what Yue Qingyuan’s lover would be like. A soft spoken woman from a noble family or humble shopkeeper, a shy thing that inspires love from all the meet her, a paragon of purity and morality that stokes Yue Qingyuan’s bumbling courtship. He would go through the proper channels of course, through her family if she had one, or simply jump straight to providing for her if she did not. Shen Qingqiu can just imagine it, Yue Qingyuan’s sweet little lover hidden away in house that he visits under the cover of night, bringing to her the gifts Shen Qingqiu has been offered but had turned away.
It just riles him up!
That the righteous YQY would sneak around everyone’s backs to defile a hapless woman that doesn’t know better! That he could be hunched over her, rippling muscles over bearing as he whispers confessions of love under the moon light.
The idea of it makes Shen Qingqiu’s heart race and fists clench. It’s simply unacceptable!! That should be-
Yue Qingyuan shouldn’t!
He doesn’t keep his promises!
It is only for the sake of the woman that YQY has duped into being his doe she lover that Shen Qingqiu follows him.
Shen Qingqiu was convinced it would take several attempts to find Yue Qingyuan’s secret abode. Surely his wife would be protected by the strongest talismans and spells available to a sect leader. So when his tracking leads Shen Qingqiu to the red light district of another town, it’s as if the world was turned on its heels.
That righteous bastard!
Yue Qingyuan is no better than any other man!!
White eyes with fury, Shen Qingqiu bursts into the brothel, accusations of hypocrisy on the tip of his tongue. But Instead of finding YQY rutting against a woman like the swine he is he is…
He’s…
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t know what he’s looking at.
There’s women screaming and filtering out the door, his sword is brandished but SQQ’s hands have gone numb from the pressure.
Yue Qingyuan is-
He is-
…beautiful.
-
And that’s where I stop!! Happy 9/7 day YQY definitely uses his new found confidence to put the moves on SQQ, with a shakey voice he ask if he likes YQY better like this and SQQ is already stepping close to cup YQY’s face in his hands.
“Explain”
So he does and everything about how wrong SQQ was shakes him to his core because yqy would do this…found this part of himself… in order to be appealing to Shen Qingqiu…
Shen Qingqiu never tells YQY about the lover he had invented (and grown to loathe) in his jealousy, but as he’s giving him the first and most thorough fuck of his life, SQQ makes plans to buy his own secret cabin in the woods.
Just in case.
#97#jiuqi#svsss#yue qingyuan#Shen Qingqiu#10thmusemoon fics#QiJiu#bottom yqy#SQQ patting himself on the back for making yqy his part time attic wife
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Israeli troops are torturing Palestinians from Gaza, including through the use of electric shocks and anal rape using M-16 rifle butts, according to the testimony of a Palestinian medic published by Human Rights Watch (HRW) on 27 August.
Walid Khalili, a Palestinian paramedic and ambulance driver, was abducted by Israeli soldiers in Gaza in November and taken to the Sde Teiman and Negev (Al-Naqab) detention centers in Israel.
Israeli troops abducted Khalili after he was dispatched to the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood of Gaza City to rescue four wounded men.
When he arrived, he saw Israeli troops execute the men on Mughrabi Street, near the Labor Ministry building. “I saw the four men being executed in cold blood,” Khalili said. “I saw it with my own eyes, I was three meters away. When they were shot, I hid under the ambulance, and next to it there was a building, so then I ran inside the building. The Israeli forces raided the building and started yelling at me to raise my hands.”
Soldiers kicked and beat Khalili with their rifle butts, breaking his ribs, before transferring him to the Sde Teiman facility in southern Israel.
HRW writes that Israeli soldiers dragged him on the ground, removed the cuffs on his ankles, and dressed him in adult diapers. They then took him to a warehouse where dozens of detainees, also in diapers, were suspended from the ceiling, with the chains attached to their square metal handcuffs.
Khalili said he was suspended from a chain so his feet would not touch the ground. The soldiers dressed him in a garment and a headband attached to wires. They shocked him with electricity and threw cold water on him every second day.
He told HRW, “The world was spinning around, and I fainted. They hit me with batons. I kept fainting and hallucinating. He kept asking me about the hostages, and moving Hamas hostages, and where I was on October 7. With every question I was electro-shocked to wake me up. He told me confess and we will stop torturing you.”
Every three days, he was taken to a new location and given an unknown drug in pill form before being interrogated further. “The pill made me feel weird, it was the first time I have felt like this, as if my inner mind was speaking what was in my heart, not me. I felt like I’m flying. I saw hallucinations.”
An Arabic-speaking Israeli guard interrogated him, asking him about the captives taken by Hamas to Gaza on 7 October. Khalili said the interrogator knew “how many children I have, all their names, my address,” and threatened they would be killed if he did not confess.
Khalili was later taken to the Negev base in southern Israel. He was held there with another Palestinian detainee from Gaza who was visibly “bleeding from his bottom.” The man told Khalili how “three soldiers took turns raping him with an M16 [assault rifle]” before he was brought to the detention center. “He was terrified. His mental health was awful, he started talking to himself,” Khalili said.
The sexual assault of Palestinian detainees gained media attention in Israel after five soldiers were detained earlier this month after raping a Palestinian man with a cell phone in Sde Teiman. CCTV video of the rape was also published by Israeli Channel 12.
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DAN AND PHIL SHOP IS BACK FROM THE DEAD!
Did you hear the news?! The hiatus is over - after a disastrous funeral involving a sexy priest and some choking, DanAndPhilGAMES has returned to the world! And for this momentous occasion, Dan and Phil Shop has returned too with a limited edition piece:
The Back From The Dead Longsleeve
They have risen! Celebrate DPG returning to life with this metal logo illustration longsleeve, perfect for spooky season or pretending Dan and Phil are an obscure metal band your friends haven't heard of.
To strangers, you'll just appear a cool person who likes edgy illustration, but those who spy the haircuts amongst the exposed brains and ribs will know - you were there when the hiatus ended.
This shirt is a limited print run and when it's gone it's gone, so grab one as soon as you can to mark the moment! UK, EU and Worldwide shoppers can get it from danandphilshop.com or for the USA us.danandphilshop.com
We want to thank everyone so much for all the excitement around the channel's return! You never know what will happen on YouTube after 5 years with all that "aLgOrItHm", so to see these first uploads bringing joy to so many people warms our hearts, or partially revives Dan's dead one.
Look forward to all the fun stuff on DanAndPhilGAMES, from Sims to Spooky Week and even some surprises you may not expect for this channel! We promise not to accidentally make the merch shop look like a dramatic funeral like the YouTube channel again.
BYE - Dan and Phil
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Costly Gift
WHUMPTOBER DAY 7: prompt: Magic with a cost/only for emergencies
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Word count: 1.1k
warnings: Blood and injuries
MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
One of the many things that made you special was your powers. There was no doubt about that. Your special ability that made you unique. The ability to heal others. It was a lifesaver when it came to your line of work. Being a vigilante was no easy task. Even a small job would leave the people involved battered and bruised, scraped and scarred. And you could heal them with a touch of a hand.
But it came with a cost.
Every time you healed a bruise, or made scarred skin smooth, you would absorb the injury yourself. And you would heal quicker. Sure. But they still hurt nonetheless. Sometimes you would end up with four or five times as many injuries compared to everyone else because you had swapped their pain out for yours. They didn’t know about this of course. You didn’t tell them because you didn’t want to seem weak. Because you knew that they would have shut you down the moment they realised that you were hurting yourself in order to help them. You didn't tell them because you wanted to do something useful.
The night was busy. You were darting to and from your team, healing their wounds before darting off to help the next one. Your body would slowly heal itself as you moved, so the minor bruises would be gone within ten minutes or so. It wasn’t such gruelling work, and the wounds were only small. A cut here or a nasty sprain there. That was until you heard the shrill cry from across the rooftop and were dashing across it as fast as your feet could carry you.
Damian was slumped awkwardly in Tim’s arms as he stumbled, blood pouring from the wound in his leg. He was struggling to stand, or put any weight on his injured leg at all so Tim had taken to awkwardly trying to support him. To their left lay the offending criminal, bloody knife still clutched in his hand from where he was sprawled out on the floor. Damian groaned in pain as his wound continued to seep with sticky blood. Tim pulled him away from the fighting, easing him to the ground. You skidded to your knees beside him and Tim looked at you worried.
“He needs you.” He said desperately. You wasted no time taking his injured leg between your hands and channel your magic, feeling it sizzle through your veins and tingle in your fingertips before it began to stitch his skin closed. You felt the sting of the wound opening on your thigh almost instantly, but you did well to mask your pain. As soon as it was done, Damian thanked you and rushed off with Tim ready to continue the fight. When you stood, you took a moment to gain your bearings before taking an experimental step forwards. The wound was deep and hurt like a bitch. But you would have to make do.
You gained a couple more nasty injuries during the fight. It was certainly one of the most brutal patrols you had seen in a while. You had gained a large cut that you had taken away from Dick which ran across your ribs, and a nastily sprained ankle from Tim. You had a definite limp that you struggled to hide as you made your way back to the cave. You felt faint, likely from the blood loss that was making your suit sticky. Your body was healing itself slowly, but the sheer amount of injuries just seemed like too much for your body to handle at once.
You stumbled on your feet as you clambered out of the batmobile, moving as quickly as you could so that you could get away from your team. You couldn't wait to just collapse on your bed. You were so exhausted and all of your energy was being focused on hiding your secret. But your suffering didn’t go unnoticed by your team. Tim frowned as he watched you hobble away. He had keen, observant eyes and he noticed your limp almost instantly.
“You alright?” He asked, catching up to you quickly. “You’re limping.”
“Oh….yeah.” You lied quickly, trying to hide the strain in your voice. “There's a stone in my shoe.”
“Bullshit” Tim said, calling you out though he was clearly very worried about you. He was watching the way sweat broke out on your forehead, and it seemed like you were struggling to remember how to put one foot in front of the other. “I think you need to sit down….”
“I’m fine.” you choked out. But your legs failed you, and you wavered on your feet.
Tim placed a hand on your arm to steady you. “Woah. Woah–” he lead you over to the chairs, worried that you were going to pass out.
“What’s going on?” Jason, who had rushed over, asked.
“Something is wrong.” Tim said. But you hardly heard him. You were too focused on not passing out.
There was a tap on the side of your face. “Hey. did you hear me?”
You blinked. “Hm…?
“I said, are you hurt?” Jason repeated his question.
“I don’t get hurt.” You mumbled. You didn’t know it, but there was a slight slur to your words. The two boys shared a glance.
“Where is it?” Jason questioned you, giving you a close once over before he found the blood seeping into your suit. He cut the fabric away quickly, revealing the cut on your leg. Tim frowned. It looked awfully familiar….
“Is that…..is that Damian’s wound…?” He said, looking at the healing flesh.
Jason then found the one on your ribs. “Dick was hurt here too….” he muttered.
You made some sort of noise of acknowledgement. And then Tim clocked it…
“Kid….when you heal our wounds…..do they transfer to you instead.”
You had answered before you even realised you were telling them something you had told yourself you wouldn't. “mmhm…yeah .”
The four of them were instantly hit with a sense of guilt and fear. How many times had they hurt you?
“All of them….?” Damian swallowed
“...uh-huh…it's okay though…”you said, watching your skin knit itself back together “i heal fast…”
“Oh sweetheart….its not okay. You’ve been hurting yourself to help us and we had no idea. We’ve been asking you to heal all sorts…..”
“I don’t mind….. Im being useful. Helping. Its the only thing that makes me useful to the team.”
Dick frowned deeply at that, smoothing a hand over your hair. “Oh sweetness, you're a valued part of the team. Powers or not we need you.”
“You do?”
“Of course we do, kid. You’re one of the best fighters we've got.”
You smiled a little, a warm sense of validation swelled inside you. “Oh…”
“Now how about we see about getting that patched up, hm? And I don’t want any of that ‘i can heal on my own’ crap, okay? Let us heal you for once.”
<- DAY SIX ⛤ DAY EIGHT ->
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
TAGS:
@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol l @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
#whumptober24#whumptober2024#whumptober 24#whumptober 2024#no.7#only for emergencies#magic with a cost#blood#batfam x reader#Batfamily x reader#batfam#Batfamily#dc#dc x reader#dick Grayson#dick Grayson x reader#Jason Todd#Jason Todd x reader#Tim drake#Tim drake x reader#Damian Wayne#Damian Wayne x reader#red hood#nightwing#red robin#Robin
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Why does your body have different systems for liquid and solid waste?
Trick question. It doesn’t. Urine isn’t filtered off feces—it’s filtered from your bloodstream. Your kidneys rely on seeing a lot of blood flow, and they have intricate mechanisms for tightly regulating the chemistry of your blood. Kidneys are built to keep our blood within the very narrow range of acidity where we can stay alive. (Which is why “alkalinizing” diets are generally going to be bullshit.) They keep us from having so much salt that our brains stop working, or so little that our medullas explode. They regulate our potassium so that our heart doesn’t go into a fatal arrhythmia due to membrane instability. Kidneys do break down many chemicals, including NSAIDs (aspirin, ibuprofen, naproxen), but they have one fundamental job—keep our blood from making our bodies an unlivable environment. And they do that by using water from our blood to carry away whatever we don’t want at a given moment.
Bowels, meanwhile, handle food. After food gets churned to chyme in the stomach, it gets squeezed into the small intestine. The small intestine is very long but smaller in diameter than the large intestine. It has one job: retrieve nutrients. The digested-digesting-food slurry makes it way through the small intestine thanks to rhythmic, longitudinal muscle contractions called peristalsis. After about 30 feet of this, it reaches a hard turn into the large intestine in your lower right abdominal quadrant, where the appendix hangs off the main channel. The large intestine goes up to the diaphragm, turns about 90 degrees, runs across your belly at the top just under your ribs, and at your left side makes another hard turn down, hanging a right at the spleen to dive down the left front side of your belly and then back and down to your rectum and then your anus. The large intestine, also known as the colon, has one job: get water back out of the food slurry, now that the water has helped the body absorb nutrients by creating a lot of surface area for contact with membranes lining the small intestine. So the longer stool spends in your colon, the more water gets sucked out of it, the harder and drier your stool gets, and the more difficult it is for the combination of peristalsis and your conscious effort to get it to move down and out of your body.
Anyway, eat lots of fiber. Drinking water won’t make you poop; your kidneys are way too good at regulating your fluid balance. Only fiber and indigestible sugars can save you now.
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Post from Weeks ago:
(i Reached to 85 Followers...)
Yeah this was fast- But okay, y'all win so... here's my YouTube Channel:
If you're asking- i have 24 subscribers cuz i used to post in this channel before, but i abandoned it, and proprably most of those followers in my channel did the same.
( in other words, they turn into ghosts lol )
Whatever, There's no vídeos (yet) in this Channel... But i will try to post something here someday, for fun or for anything i want to do in future. Like Animatics, Speedpaints and others... Not just about Undertale but about of other things i like as well.
Whatever, Thank you for all this guys... 💖 be free to Follow me there! :]
.
#RIB HAVES A CHANNEL!!#Rabbit Mask channel#youtube channel#next time i will put 100 followers instead of 80 lol#you guys are crazy#thank you#rib says something#text post#gonna sleep#artists on tumblr#artists on youtube#no video ( yet )
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i heard your name [ii]
“i want you so, i can hardly let you go, please be mine for a time, now and forever”
===+++===
pairing: cairo sweet x reader
summary: after several weeks of trying to run in the opposite direction, you find you can no longer evade the magnetic pull yanking you towards her
warnings: explicit but gender neutral sexual content, being used both physically and emotionally, 'lover boy' is used ironic and is still considered gender neutral, implied teacher-student relationships
word count: 6.4k
A/N: definitely making another already because it’s kind of getting juicy. again inspired by pale fire and hot summer nights.
===+++===
You had always heard that people looked like their pets, but it had never occurred to you that someone could look like their house. Standing in front of Lovell Hill, it was impossible anyone else but Cairo Sweet lived there.
The building stood tall, with white towering ionic columns that reached to hold up the dark clay tile roofing like soft angelic hands lifted to the sky. Everything about the house was big, with a giant, wide cedar porch and a towering balcony that looked out over the small garden in front of its door.
You had figured Cairo was well off from her clothes and general overabundance of education, but this screamed a wealth so extreme it almost wasn’t computing in your brain. Not with your own tawdry house that had only been built two years ago and was about the size of Cairo’s home if you sliced it by a quarter.
You had seen homes like these in movies or on the home improvement channels. Most motels had the home improvement channels on the TV, and you had watched with a sense of awe, sitting on the mouldy carpet late at night with your mom asleep behind you, looking at the muted tours of the homes with a private envy.
Such grandeur was incomprehensible and didn’t exist beyond the screen and TV magic. Or, that’s what you thought until you stood at the end of her garden, with all its greenery and a few lines of flowers, looking up at the front door.
It was quite the dilemma, to knock or not to knock. You could turn around right now, save yourself a whole bunch of sleepless nights and half a brain if you just told her you felt sick and had to cancel. She’d be annoyed, sure, but maybe Cairo being angry was better than Cairo being hungry.
You weren’t all too sure you wouldn’t try to satiate her hunger, and that was a dangerous game to play. Since she had sat down beside you in class, fleeting had been slowly drifting away, and you found yourself clutching onto what little of it you had left, rebuking the witchcraft that seemed to tug you to her.
You were about to do that, walk away, but then the door to the balcony swung open, and out Cairo came, leaning over the railing with a smile, and you felt your own heart clutch to your ribs. She propped her head up on her palm, peering down at you.
“Are you coming in?” She asked, laughing. “You’ve been standing there for ten minutes.”
“I’m just looking. At the landscaping,” you called up to her, and it was mostly true, though Cairo laughed like you were being funny. You felt a blush rising to your cheeks. Fleeting, you idiot.
“It’s my parents’ house. I know it’s a bit much,” said Cairo, standing up straighter.
“A bit?” you said, the sarcasm worming its way into your voice. It was a lot much.
“Yeah,” she replied, smiling at you again all bright. “A bit.” You smiled back, holding a hand up to cover your eyes so you could continue to stare at her on the balcony in the sun, like your own Juliet.
“Can I come inside?” You asked, taking a few steps forward into the shadow the roof of her house casted over the ground. Cairo seemed to find a playfulness with the question, and you were left there like a moron, wondering why she was laughing again.
“No, actually,” she said. “I invited you here to make you walk over here and then walk home.”
“Did you."
“I did,” she nodded, having fun. “I’ll be down in a minute when I’m done with something; the front door is unlocked."
"That seems unsafe," you said.
She raised her eyebrows at you. "Why, are you worried for my safety?"
You shrugged, deciding neutrality was the best policy. There wasn't anything wrong with saying you were worried about her as a friend, but you knew she would draw some strange entendre. "I would worry about random people wandering in, to be honest."
Cairo shook her head. "Not here in Tennessee. Now go inside. The longer you stall me the longer it takes me to finish what I'm doing." With that, she disappeared back inside, leaving you on her porch. You swallowed the lump in your throat and went inside.
Cairo Sweet's house was much like her soul, in grandeur and in wealth. Even in the foyer, which was where you found yourself, the walls seemed to reach up much like the pillars, raised towards the covered sky. A grand staircase led up to the second floor, and with the soft closing of the door behind you, Cairo called out from up the stairs.
"You can go into the kitchen, I left some wine out on the counter."
You blinked. "Wine?" You said back, making sure you were hearing correctly. Cairo's laugh floated down from the second floor.
"Yes, 'wine.'" You had never had anything like wine before, though the way she threw it out so casually made you think she was no stranger to the concept.
The kitchen was the room right off to the left of the foyer, with a large bay window and some checkered ceramic tiling on the floor. In the centre sat an old gas range stove, a similar shade of green as the walls. The brass handle curved down to the drawer on the bottom, and it looked like a droll little mouth underneath the knobs.
On the white marbled countertop that boxed the stove in was a set of two glasses and a bottle of reddish wine that was three quarters full. The entire room was immaculately clean, with the perfectly angled chairs sitting around the nook table in the corner and the utterly spotless surfaces, both floor and table.
It looked just like those staged houses on the home improvement channels, and you wandered over to peer into the glass hutch, which was piled up with books in stacks around it. The top cabinet held an array of glassware, some of them gathering dust. They were pretty, and you leaned in to the ceramic ones with antique designs etched into the sides. You wanted to own dishes like those, someday.
"The plates are pretty, aren't they? It’s a real shame about the led.” You spun around to find Cairo behind you. Your heart immediately started doing a backflip in your chest. Cairo was no longer in the soft shirt and shorts she had been wearing on her balcony— no. Instead, she was now in a silky cream-coloured dress, one that clung to the curves of her body and hung elegantly from her shoulders in a way that made the tips of your ears warm.
She walked right up to you as if there was no difference, staring at the plate you had been looking at with what couldn't possibly be a genuine curiosity. Up close it was clear she had put on some makeup, her lips glossy and pink and her eyes dark. She had to know she was playing you like a fiddle.
You watched her in laser focus as she nodded at the plate. "My parents bought that one from a village in the Swiss Alps."
"What?" you mumbled, clever as always.
"The plate," she said, like it was obvious. "Most of the plates in there are from Switzerland or China."
"Oh...cool."
Cairo brushed past it, gesturing back to the bottle that sat on the counter. "Would you like some?" she asked, clasping her hands behind her back.
"But what would your parents say?" you asked. Mostly you were looking for any excuse not to, but you were also filled with curiosity. Cairo Sweet hadn't just fallen out of a coconut tree— she was the product of whatever her parents were like and you desired to put two and two together, and for that to make it make sense.
"They're not here right now," she replied, walking right over to the bottle and pulling the cork straight out. You swallowed but followed her over, and Cairo grabbed a glass to pour it into.
"So you live here?" It was a genuine question, and part of you was still struggling to understand that this was just someone's everyday lifestyle. Cairo nodded.
"That's what Winnie asked me too, when she first saw it. People say my house is haunted."
"They do?"
"Yeah," she said. "Lovell Hill. It's famous, or at least around here it is."
"Well... is it true?"
Cairo shook her head. "Sorry to disappoint. Only thing that lives here is me."
"And your parents?"
Her mouth thinned into a line at the question, but she spoke quickly. "Yes, them too." Then Cairo held up a glass. "Would you like some?"
"Uh, no thanks. We should probably start on the assignment...," you trailed off. Cairo was staring you down with a certain glint in her eye. “What?”
"You've never drank before," she said. It wasn't a question, and you could feel heat going back to your face. To any other person, you'd have no problem saying no, but to her you felt your breath catch in your throat.
"Uh, I have, I just don't want any right now," you lied. And Cairo knew you were lying, judging from the smile she watched you with. But she only shrugged.
"You can have some of mine later, then," she said, straightening up and walking out of the kitchen. You followed her like a proper guest, like she was a tour guide helping you through the jungle. You warily tailed her out of there and up the stairs.
On the landing there were even more books, in large, towering stacks near the railing, ended on each side by potted plants and small floor decorations. You stopped, taking a thick paperback from off the top of one stack and turning it over to read the back. “Have you really read all of these?” You asked. Cairo turned.
“Not all of them, no. Most of them belong to my parents, so they’re cheesy spy thrillers and soapy romances.”
You nodded. “My mom reads those ones too.”
“Anyways, what do you read?” Cairo asked, walking over to you and taking the book from your hands to look at it herself. You shrugged.
“For a while there, anything I could get my hands on.”
She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
"Uh, just that my mother didn't take me to bookstores a lot," you said, having gotten comfortable with lying. In reality, you had mostly read travel books and magazines from gas stations, since those were really the only places you and your mother stopped often. You didn't start actually reading book-books until you were about ten, and your mom bought you a kindle for your birthday.
But giving Cairo the truth would mean telling her you were on the road a lot, which would mean telling her about why it was you moved so often, which would mean telling her you would probably be leaving soon, so you lied. It was typically a better idea to vanish without warning one day, off to another state like you had been one giant bad dream.
"Mm," she hummed it agreement, putting the book back down and leading the way into a door that stood at the far end of the hall. "My parents didn't either, when they realised I bought like ten or twelve at a time," she said, tugging you into her bedroom.
It was exactly like you could have imagined it, with a darker shade of green and ebony wainscoting that matched the grand bed in the middle of the room with fluffy, lush bedding and a near mountain of pillows in the centre.
"Well then," Cairo drawled. "Shall we?"
The smirk she was staring at you with sent a shiver down your spine. You gave her a cautious nod and pulled your backpack off of your back.
===+++===
You had your paper almost completely done within an hour of laying down on Cairo's bed to write it, though in the corner where Cairo sat typing hers, she seemed incredibly frustrated. You had only been observing her a little, watching her type what could've maybe been a few words and then immediately holding down the delete key until they were all gone.
You understood to a certain extent— windows were so unbelievably symbolic it was possible to go in millions of directions when writing your story. But you were almost done, and inspiration had hit you from the moment you knew what your symbol was meant to be.
You put the final finishing sentences in where they were meant to go, and put down your pen, sitting up to crack your fingers and stretch your back. Cairo looked up at you, eyes glaring.
"You're finished?" Her tone was sharp, and you looked around the room in surprise.
"Yeah?" You replied. Cairo narrowed her eyes at you.
"How," she demanded sitting up in her chair and slamming her laptop shut.
You shrugged. "I don't know, I kind of rushed it anyhow."
"Let me read it, (Y/n)," Cairo said, holding her hand out. You leaned forwards and tossed the paper to her, rolling over onto your back to stare up at the ceiling while she read it. She had one of those popcorn roofs, with bumps all over it, and you found yourself tracing a little path in your mind.
"This is..." she said after a few minutes. You turned your head to look at her sideways. "This is really good," said Cairo, but in a way that made your eyebrows furrow.
"Why'd you say it like that?" you asked, sitting up from where you had been laying.
"Like what?" She asked standing up from her chair and walking towards you, to lean on one of the bedposts. You swallowed.
"I... don't know," you muttered.
"Hm," she hummed. "I have a question."
"Yeah?"
"The astronaut. The one who goes crazy in outer space from looking out the window on his solo mission. Is that supposed to be you?"
"Oh. No, he isn't. He's just a character I thought of," you shook your head. Cairo raised an eyebrow at you.
"But he is a lot like you, isn't he? Alone, I mean. That's why you lied to Winnie about lunch." She got you with that line. You stared at her, frowning. Your mind screamed LIE over and over, but you knew there was no point. Not when she was reading you like a book. She took another step towards you, until she was standing in between your legs where you sat. You hadn't realised there was any connection with the astronaut when you thought of him, but maybe he was?
"Are you lonely, (Y/n)?"
"No? I mean, I don't think I am." It came out in a whisper; you didn't need to speak loudly when Cairo was so close. You could feel her hot breath on your cheeks like a fan.
"I've been thinking of you, since you arrived," Cairo murmured. Her fingers crawled up your knee slowly, the pads of her fingers brushing the hem of your shorts. She looked down at the small space between you.
"Yeah?" You asked.
"You're captivating," she said. "It's annoying. Shrouded in mystery and answering to no one."
"Yeah?" Pink was flushing towards your cheeks.
She smiled, looking up at your face again. "Yeah. It would be less distracting if you didn't come with such nice eyes."
You swallowed. It felt like everywhere her fingers went she left behind a trail of pure fire, churning up your insides. Your mind was screaming at you to not be an idiot. You'd probably regret this in a month or two when your mom told you you would be leaving again. Stop, right now and save yourself so much sleep, you idiot. That would've been the smart thing to do.
Her hands came up slowly, skimming gently up your neck until they landed at the nape, and you were reminded of the lollipop she had plucked from your lips to place in her own for a moment.
"Cairo, what're we doing?" you managed. Cairo shrugged.
"You ask me that but I'm not entirely sure. I just know it feels nice," she whispered to you. "So shut up and let me feel nice," she said with a smile.
Within an instant, her lips pressed hard into your own. You pulled your head back in surprise but Cairo's soft palms held you firmly where you sat, and you found yourself melting at the feeling. It was messy and it wasn't graceful, but it spoke of the passion that bubbled under Cairo's removed exterior. She started to move against you then, and you against her.
You found yourself entranced at the sensation, and pulled away just to get a look at her face. She was breathing heavily, lips red and eyes wild, and you only came back wanting more, reconnecting the both of you, your hands moving to her waist and then up her back.
"Cairo..." you mumbled, her lips moving to your jaw and then hastily to your ear.
"Mm," she hummed.
"Cairo, I can't," you managed, trying to pull away but finding her still on you. Your mind was yelling at you horrible, horrible things, not only about yourself but about what you wanted to do to her.
"Mm," she sounded again, moving down your neck in a way that left you tingly.
"Really, I just—"
"Take my hands off of you, then," she challenged, in between peppering kisses and sucking on a spot directly over your pulse. You shivered.
"I can't."
"Well, I guess we're at a crossroads," she said. Her right hand slid down your chest to the hem of your shirt, sliding gently underneath and laying itself flat against your stomach. She smirked when she reconnected your lips, knowing she was winning.
"This is a really bad idea."
"You talk too much."
"No, because this is really a conflict of interest. We're supposed to uh..." you stammered, getting distracted by he hand on your stomach slowly getting lower and lower, creeping towards the top of your shorts. "We're supposed read each other's stuff and be honest."
Cairo stopped, pulling away, raising her eyebrows at you. "Are you serious? You don't want to have sex with me —when you've been practically eye-fucking me since we met— so that you can be an honest peer grader???"
"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds stupid."
"That's because it is stupid."
"I— I just can't do that with someone."
She scoffed. "Are you waiting until marriage or something?"
"No."
"Are you asexual?"
"No."
"Is it Winnie?"
"No."
"Do you like boys?"
"No!"
"Then why? I mean, come on. We both knew this would end one of two ways."
"We're better off as just classmates, trust me."
Cairo blinked at you for a moment, like you were the most confusing person she had ever met. Then she got up off of you. Your lap felt lighter, but also emptier, and you wanted to scream up at the stars for not being able to just indulge this one little desire.
"Fine," she said, and her tone caught you off guard. Most people would probably be upset or angry, but it just seemed like Cairo was challenged and endeared. Like she was going to work out your problem and get right back to this situation, only this time she'd get exactly as she wanted.
She wouldn't, you promised yourself. Never ever. The heartbreak wasn't worth it. Cairo checked her watch. "Could you come over tomorrow too? I'm not done with my story yet, and I want you to read it."
"Uh," you thought out loud. You didn't see why not. Maybe you wouldn't be lovers, but just innocent friends? You weren't so much a monster that you wouldn't be able to stop yourself if you hung out with her. Innocent friends were much easier to forget anyways. "Sure," you said, unknowingly giving her exactly what she wanted.
===+++===
You had gone to her house almost every night for the past week, laying on her bed while she sat in the corner in the same familiar chair, typing the same bloody story that she refused to be satisfied with. It was becoming a pattern, even an unconscious one. The next day had been entirely as awkward as expected, with you trying to act as unbothered as possible.
The friendship was going better than you had anticipated, and you were very pleased with your own self restraint. Winnie had come over too, once or twice, and you enjoyed existing within the context but still on the periphery of a friendship.
Cairo Sweet would hunt you down as her friend or as her whatever-you-were, so you figured giving into one would be the path of least resistance anyhow.
She must have been an insanely picky writer. She wrote every word with an overabundant caution, like she was trying so hard to craft perfection. It was like she wanted her keyboard to drip liquid gold onto the page, and the critics to all collectively clap when she finished a sentence.
"You're like George R. R. Martin with how slow you finish a story," you had said once, out of the blue. Cairo looked up at you, offended, and thrown a pillow in your direction that connected with your face.
"I'm trying to cultivate perfection of the written word," she said, and you rolled your eyes.
"God, writers are so pretentious," you wrinkled your nose. "The only people who like to read annoying writers' books are annoying people."
Cairo scoffed. "Yeah, what, you want to be surrounded by James Bond fans? Stephen King fanboys?"
"That's cool, though," you shrugged. "Gets the point across, isn't badly written, and makes a sometimes beautiful passage along the way."
"Oh, so your writing," she joked, smiling at you. It was an innocent smile, and one that so starkly contrasted the lustful one she had looked at you with only a few days ago. Even in memory, her eyes sent a shiver up your spine.
"Yeah, well, people seem to like it. I guess I’m doing something right," you said. Cairo frowned.
"I don't get it," she shook her head. "And you still won't let me read that first one you wrote."
"It's not exactly something I want to talk about to you."
"Why? Is it bad?" she asked, sitting up straight. You knew she meant 'tell me your dirty secrets' by that.
"I just don't want to."
"Hm," she grumbled, laying back in the chair. "And anyways, if what you say about that thing is true, I don't know why Miller liked it. His book is full of the flowery stuff you complain about."
"He wrote a book???" You were incredulous.
Cairo nodded. "A while ago. Apostrophes and Ampersands."
"Never heard of it."
Cairo shrugged. "It didn't exactly make massive waves. It was ingenious though. Grand and tragic."
"You read it then?" You asked, sitting up and turning towards her.
"Yes, I did," she replied nonchalantly. "I enjoyed it."
You looked out the window for a moment, then back to her. Friends should be friends. "Can I borrow your copy?"
===+++===
"God," you groaned, reading Mr. Miller's book with it held over your head, laying on your back. Cairo had given it to you two days ago and now you were slogging through it, waiting for it to get interesting. "'Human ruins of a madman's love,'" you mocked.
"It's gorgeous," Cairo said. She wasn't in her usual chair, she was sitting by the window with it cracked open, a cigarette in her hand.
"It's not— wait, are you smoking?" You asked, sitting up. Cairo rolled her eyes, grinning at you.
"No, I'm just sitting here with a cigarette lit in my fingers."
"God. Wine and a cigarette, what are you, thirty-four."
"Shut up," she said, putting the cigarette in between her lips and puffing out the window. "And anyways that quote is beautiful."
"Maybe," you challenged. "But what is it actually saying?"
"She means everything to him and he's going crazy for her," Cairo said, like it was obvious. You nodded.
"That's the thought and THAT'S what's good there. That's universal. He's losing the plot— getting lost in the sauce— of trying to sound like he's saying something, to the point where he's losing the entire meat of the message."
"Maybe," said Cairo. "But you said one of your books was If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Not exactly the height of literature."
"And I stand by that," You said. "That's actually enjoyable. You don't enjoy reading this, you enjoy being clever enough to read this, when it's saying something you've heard a million times in a million more decipherable ways. And those ways end up being more beautiful, too.”
"Perhaps," she said. "Or maybe I think the writing is beautiful."
"Well then, I think you're crazy."
"You're welcome to do that," Cairo replied, smile still wide. "You probably will."
===+++===
You managed not to cave until a warmer day, about a week after that. Cairo Sweet had previously been a sweet exterior with absolutely nothing on the inside for you to feel a deep pull towards. Only now, after slowly becoming comfortable, was the magnetic pull becoming physically painful.
Winnie had been absolutely beside herself, miffed at Cairo coming down and swiping you for herself. For a friend or for something more, it didn't matter. You were indisputably hers. And after a life of belonging to no one, you thought maybe Cairo took some sort of glee over making you belong to her.
Class was boring, Mr. Miller was fine, your mom seemed to be doing better, and school seemed to drone on. So when you came back to Cairo's house like normal, you were entirely unaware of how quickly you would fail your mission.
You were barely in door before she was running down the stairs, and the look of worry and surprise in your face only worsened when she got so up close to you, just for a second, and then just as hungry and hurriedly as before, kissed you with a brutal ferocity.
You were taken aback. Something was off. You pulled your head away and Cairo's palms pressed to your cheeks, thumbs brushing against the side of your face. She pulled you back and you had to turn your head away. "Cairo, what—"
"Shut up for once, please. Just kiss me the way a girl wants to be kissed."
You could feel every neuron telling you to get away from her. This was exactly what you had said you didn't want. And then there was the other side of you. The one that wanted to take her right then and then. You swallowed.
"I can't do these kinds of connections, Cairo. I told you."
"That's fine," Cairo rushed, her hand resting on your shoulder blade now. "I need one thing from you, and that's it. I don't ask for much, but I really need this."
Your eyebrows furrowed at her. "What are you talking about?"
"You've said you don't want anything, and okay, that’s fine. At least give me your body for the night. No strings attached.”
You blinked. “What?”
“I don’t owe you anything, you don’t owe me. We just do whatever this is. You make me feel good, and that’s it.” Her fingers had slithered back up to your hair, scratching gently at your scalp in a way that pulled your focus.
It just took a final glance at her face, for the dam to break. Her cheeks were a dusty red, eyes dilated and staring at you, and though you cursed yourself and your idiot Cro-Magnon mind, your palms went to her legs, tugging her up harshly and wrapping her legs around your waist.
“Shit,” you muttered, highly aware this was probably a bad idea. Cairo wrapped her arms around your neck, kissing you with a smile, and then once that broke, a passionate fervour. It was so much but it was so good. You carried her like that, up the stairs to her room, throwing her down on the bed.
She flipped you over, sitting on your lap like she had been back when the both of you first tried this, and it was all too intoxicating. Cairo’s hands went to your shoulders, pushing you back against the mattress before she leaned over, kissing you softly for a moment until it grew into more.
“Wait—” You said, and Cairo sat up, glaring at you.
“You did not get me all the way up here just to back out now,” said Cairo, annoyed beyond belief. You shook your head, tugging her back onto you. Her hair fell around you like a shield to your little private moment.
“I’m not backing out,” you promised, whispering because you felt like you didn’t want to be too loud. “I mean I’ve never … before.”
Cairo smiled at you, looking into your eyes for a moment. “Me neither,” she whispered back.
“Really?” you asked. Cairo raised her eyebrows.
“Fuck you.”
“No,” you shook your head, hand reaching up to move some of her hair out of her face. That wasn’t how you meant it. “…Really?”
She paused, eyes boring into yours. Then she gently nodded, and lowered herself down onto you, placing her lips on yours for another divine moment. It was all too hot in there. She let out a gasp when you tugged down her skirt.
===+++===
It was about five weeks after you had arrived, and you had gone to Cairo's house almost every week day, to continue exactly what had latched around your throat and tugged you harshly towards her.
There, in the milky white lighting of Cairo's table lamp, with her body snugly laying back against you and her book out in front of her, you fell in love for the first time. Really, fell in love.
Not the kind of "love" that swirls around your head as a child and wraps around the leg of the pretty girl in your class who has shiny hair. That kind of “love” where you can't get out a real sentence while talking to her. In comparison to the heavy feeling growing in your chest like a tumour, that was a mild liking.
No, this was the real thing. Adults had always said cryptic things about love, like "when you know, you'll know," and it hadn't ever really made sense, until it did.
As you looked down to watch her nose scrunch from the Nabokov, those three little words took on a whole new meaning. Her dark hair tickled the bare skin of your chest where she laid. Unlike her you still hadn't put your shirt back on, and you shivered a bit, even from under her blanket and her body heat. Her eyes, dark and focused, scanned across the paper, before elegantly flipping past the page with her thumb.
It was one of those renaissance paintings people cried for, in the Louvre, only it was playing out right in front of your eyes. And with that sudden rush of messy emotion, came the dastardly realisation that you were truly fucked.
"You're staring," she said, pulling you from your thoughts. She looked up at you, curious eyes focusing on your own. "What're you staring for?"
You shrugged, the movement shaking her against you. "What's the book you're reading?" You asked. "You seem mad at it."
She hummed, leaving her finger as a bookmark and flipping the cover towards you. The cover read Pale Fire. "That's because it's mostly incoherent rambling," she said. "Makes no sense."
You raised your eyebrows at her. "You don't understand Pale Fire?"
She tilted her head back, challenging you. “And you do?" You nodded. You had written a report during the two months you were in Maine. "Of course you do,” Cairo groaned, rolling her eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked.
Cairo shook her head, patting the side of your leg with her free hand. “Nothing.”
You sat up. “No, seriously. What do you mean?”
She sighed, closing the book around her index finger to hold her page. Cairo shut her eyes for a second, choosing her words carefully. “I mean... you’re annoyingly clever at something you don’t really care about.”
You laughed. "Careful, Sweet. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're jealous."
"Well, I am," said Cairo. "I care about writing so much, and here you come along with literally no passion for it, and you're out-writing me."
"Uh, sorry?" You said with a smile. But the frown you saw on her face told you she wasn't really joking. Cairo scoffed, sitting up and turning towards you.
"No, I'm serious. You barely even try and you spill some amazing few paragraphs, and Mr. Miller loves you like you're his favourite student," she lamented, throwing her hands up in frustration.
"I promise," you sighed, "that I really don't mean to. I don't get it either, so—"
"—See, but that's what's so frustrating!" She cut you off. "You don't mean to. You don't mean to get in my way, but you do because you're so unbelievably perfect at everything, and Mr. Miller loves you so much."
"Okay, wait a minute," you said. "That's not fair."
"What's 'not fair' is me working my ass off until senior year to get to do what I've ALWAYS wanted to do, WRITE, and then you come along and pull all the praise and probably the recommendation letter too!"
You sat there for a moment, taking her words in, your mouth open in surprise. There had always been an inkling that Cairo was unhappy with having you in her class, but you had drowned the thought out with her lips on yours and treasuring every moment you made her smile with something stupid you said.
You cleared your throat and Cairo was already apologising. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," she said, reaching towards you. "It's just so important to me, I get really worked up..."
"It's fine," you rushed. You knew people screamed and said nasty stuff when they were mad. It's just how people were, and it made sense to you. Your mom was like that too, with the yelling and stuff. "Do you..." you mumbled, trying to figure out how to solve her problem. "Do you want me to stop trying?" You asked.
Cairo's eyes lit up within an instant at the idea. "That would be amazing," she breathed. "Thank you so much." She reached across the space between you, kissing with a softness that hadn't previously been there. It was sweet, just like she was, and you breathed a sigh of relief, with the confrontation being over.
You nodded. "Sure." Then your gaze went out the window, realising the sun was starting to set and rain clouds were starting to form. Your hand flew to your leg, having forgotten you were only in your underwear.
"You left it downstairs, remember?" Cairo said, almost playful. When the two of you had gotten to her house, her lips had been so firmly ravaging your neck that your pants hadn't even made it up the stairs before she tugged them off and flung them to the marble bust that stood nearby. You sighed.
"Do you know what time it is?" You asked, getting up from the bed and around to the other side to pick your shirt up off the floor. Cairo also got up, throwing the sheets off herself and walking right over to her closet.
"No, I left my phone at school on accident," she replied, opening the door and flicking through the hangers. You pulled the shirt on over your head and fixed the soft collar. On the opposite side of the room, Cairo pulled out the same cream-coloured dress she had been wearing when you first came to study with her. You paused.
"You're getting all fancy?" You asked, turning to her floor mirror and attempting to fix your absolutely messy hair in a way that it wouldn't be clear Cairo had run her hands through it and gripped on tight.
"Mhm," Cairo said. "Having a guest over tonight."
"Oh. They work with your parents or something?" You said, turning to watch her with curiosity over her answer. Cairo pulled off her shirt so that she was now completely naked. She turned back to you with a smile.
"Do you like what you see?" said Cairo, and it made you blush a bit. You nodded.
"You're absolutely beautiful," you said. If you weren't worried about getting home before dinner, you would have walked right over to her and tugged her back into her bed. Cairo waved you off.
"You're too kind," she said. "Now run on home, lover boy." Cairo disappeared into the bathroom with the dress in her hand, and you heard her rustling around with the sink, probably doing her makeup.
"I... I guess I'll see you, then," you said, left alone in the room.
"Mhm," she called from the bathroom. You frowned, but did a final scan for anything you needed to take before heading out her bedroom door and down the stairs, to where your jeans were clumsily thrown over the Roman statue's head. You tugged your phone and keys from the pocket.
"Fuck," you cursed. Only around thirty minutes to get the whole way across town to your house before your mom started worrying. You walked right over to the door... only to find it was also pouring down rain, now. Dammit. You tugged on your jacket from where it had been hanging on a steel coatrack by the door, pulling the hood up.
You walked out onto the porch, shut the door behind you, and took off running, going as fast as you could down the garden and then up the street into the woods. You got about a hundred metres from her house, that was, until you stopped.
Driving right past you, barely able to see him in the storm, was Mr. Miller. Driving right to Cairo's house in his little sedan. You froze, stopping dead in the rain to watch him go. Even after his license plate retreated in the distance, you felt a sickening sense of dread begin to pool in your gut, one that was already tarnishing your prior bliss.
===+++===
part three perhaps? i also have a tara carpenter one in the works and a lorraine day that's mostly done so hopefully i'll be updating more frequently
#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#cairo sweet x reader#cairo sweet#miller's girl#letorip#jenna#jenna ortega imagine
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Cake?
(For the one-word butcktommy prompt 🥰)
"Babe," Evan calls through from the kitchen. "Why is there like, a whole cheesecake in your fridge?"
Tommy's sprawled out on the couch, shirtless in sweatpants, flicking through the TV channels trying to find something that might appeal to Evan's picky watching habits. It's gone eight PM but Tommy just woke up - a long shift followed by a long day of crashing out in his bed - and Evan, on his own 48 off and smug about it, had turned up just to hang out. A few months in and they're still slowly getting the hang of how to parcel out enough time together around shift work, often chasing the end of each other's naps, sharing a meal that's breakfast for one of them and dinner for the other. But they're making it work.
Still, it's maybe a sign of Tommy's remaining grogginess after sleeping the day away that he has no idea what Evan is asking him right now.
"Where else would I put it?" Tommy calls back. He can just about see the backs of Evan's legs poking out from the fridge; Tommy's living room is part-open to the kitchen through a wide archway in the white stucco walls. Keeping one eye on the TV, he says, "Cheesecake goes bad if you leave it out."
"No, I don't mean-" Evan cuts off, and then closes the fridge and re-ermerges a moment later with half a zucchini muffin stuffed in his mouth. He'd apparently worked out after dinner and then come over to Tommy's still ravenous. Tommy is a little enamoured by the way Evan always eats like he's trying to set the world record for how much one person can fit in their mouth in one go. Evan swallows with great effort and continues, "What's the cake for? I didn't miss your birthday or something, right?"
"Don't worry - November thirteenth," Tommy says, beckoning Evan back into the room. Evan happily comes and flings way too much of his 200-plus-pound self on Tommy once. "Oof. You know I'm not the couch, right?"
"Really? Look like one to me," Evan says, grinning and prodding Tommy a few times while Tommy shoves him off until they're more cuddling than wrestling.
"The cake's just cake," Tommy says. "I felt like cheesecake this week."
"You - wait, so you bought yourself a whole cake? Just for no reason?"
Evan sounds completely bemused, which is unfairly adorable. Tommy presses a kiss onto his shoulder while Evan finishes the rest of the zucchini muffin. Tommy had bought those special because they're keto friendly, and Evan's still on a kick with that - no wonder he can't imagine buying cheesecake for the sake of it.
"The reason is that I like it," Tommy tells him. "I realised a few years ago that one benefit of being an adult who doesn't have to listen to a miserable tyrant of a father or CO or captain is that I can have cake whenever I want. So I do. Is that okay?"
Evan sort of melts into him. One of his long, strong legs brackets Tommy's ribs as he crawls more into Tommy's lap. "That's really cute and kind of ridiculous," Evan tells him. "I swear nobody believes me that you're like such a big kid sometimes."
"Hey, now," Tommy protests, lightly, teasingly.
"Your sweet tooth is very cute," Evan assures him.
"Well, yeah - why do you think I like you so much? You're like cookie dough cheesecake in human form." Tommy bites down lightly on Evan's strong shoulder, like he might eat him, and Evan laughs.
"It's cookie dough too? Oh man, babe, you really do have a problem."
"Alright, captain keto, that's enough out of you," Tommy says, and finally drags Evan into a kiss. He really is the only thing better than cake.
#idk yall . sorry for any typos my phone sucks !!#bucktommy#evan buckley#tommy kinard#ficlet#mine#asks
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i need virgin!soap and pornstar!reader omg (love u orla 🩷)
CW: VIRGINITY LOSS. MDNI 18+
so many thots™️ for this...
perhaps, pornstar-reader is allowing one fan to come have sex with her, to show them how good and warm you feel, to be featured on your channel.
johnny hesitated joining, feeling ashamed as he'd never had sex before, never lost his virginity. he didn't want to humiliate himself publicly by entering and being outed as a virgin, showing how inexpensive he was at having sex, but he began to think with his cock instead, held firmly by the musky base, deciding he'd enter.
i mean, what were the chances of winning?
to johnny's surprise, he'd won. johnny wasn't sure if this was a mistake as his heart pounded against his ribs, but regardless, he went over to the studio you film in, his cock aching the entire drive there. it was shameful for him to be on there, looking so pathetic, feeling like all eyes were on him – as if the camera men were judging him.
he laid back, sweat dripping down his bare, muscular body, his mohawk a mess and his eyes wandering over your figure. you straddled his large lap, running your hands up his muscles, complimenting them and watching as his cheeks began to burn a rosy red, flushed and embarrassed, breathing heavily as a response.
fuck, feeling his veiny dick throb and twitch against your soft hand caused him to roll his head backwards, stroking his shaft gently, your sharp and painted nails against his length causing him to let out a pained, desperate growl. the tight sensation of your walls clamping around his girth was pleasurable, his balls tight and heavy, sweat dripping from his chest as you caressed his stubbled jaw, giggling sweetly at his stunned reaction.
it seemed he had a little crush, and you couldn't help but giggle seeing him fawn over you.
you bounced on his hard shaft, watching him jerk and thrust his strong hips skywards against you, his already firm grasp on your waist tightening as you nestled your fingers in his deep, chestnut locks. his eyes became glassy and delirious, letting out deep, hoarse growls and groans, unable to hold himself back from cumming deep into your pussy, his sensitive tip pressed against your cervix as you let out a squeal at the sudden feeling of his hot load squirted into your hole.
#orla speaks#pornstar!reader#soap x reader#soap x reader smut#soap x you#soap mactavish smut#soap mactavish fanfic#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mctavish#soap call of duty#cod soap#soap cod
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➳ Azzi Fudd x reader
➳ A planned soft-launch goes wrong
➳ based on this request - my first time writing for Basketball, pls be kind to me
➳ Word count: 1.305
“Do you know what you’re gonna get?”
Most of the girls had gone out to eat for the evening, something a little more on the fancy side, different from the usual takeout they would get, and gracious as they were, they decided to drag you, their Social Media manager, with them.
While it had been Azzi, your girlfriend of nearly seven months who ultimately managed to get you to say yes, she had a begging KK and Paige in her ears. Both girls tried to get you to come, with promises of shooting videos for the YouTube Channel, giving fans the duo they wanted. But all it took was Azzi to bat her lashes at you, a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, and a whispered “Please, for me?” and you agreed to come.
“I can’t decide between these two.”
“I’ll get this one and you get that one then. They both sound great and we can share!” With Azzi you never had to beg for her to listen to you, she somehow always knew what you said and wanted, no matter how noisy the room was.
“Girl you are whipped..” KK observed from her seat next to you but winced when she received a swift kick to the shin from your girlfriend who sat on the opposite side of you. “I was just sayin! Nothing bad about it!”
The evening had actually been quite nice - you had spent the most time chatting to Ashlynn and Caroline who sat on your other side, while Azzi watched everyone interact chiming in here and there and mostly when either Paige, KK, or Nika were bickering and hoped that she would back them up.
Back at the dorms you decided to just hang out for a bit longer, it had been way too nice to just get up and leave everyone alone, especially after getting back from a short summer break. People were still moving in and the roommates weren’t 100% sure yet, aside from you and Azzi. Maybe you’d adopt one of the freshmen.
The people (Paige and Alyiah) had decided that the chosen dorm would in fact be yours and Azzi's. Most of your girlfriend's belongings were already in there, while yours were still in the car.
“You snooze, you lose!”
The couch was already filled when you came in the door. Turns out seven young adults with an average height of six feet take up a lot of space in a small student dorm, leaving literally no space for you. KK, Inês, and Jana had already taken over the floor in front of the couch, pulling every throw pillow you had placed on it, down to sit on them.
But you didn’t worry about getting a seat. After all, your girlfriend already had one, and what was hers, was yours. So you had a place, no matter how smug the girls looked at you, teasing smiles on their lips.
“Can you make Popcorn?” Nika, the only one with some form of respect, swatted Paige’s hand away as she pointed at you like a toddler. “How do you want to know that they even have popcorn? Azzi moved in like yesterday.”
“They always have popcorn. So, you gonna make some?”
Just as your girlfriend wanted to chime in, telling Paige to do it herself, you caved in and made your way to the small kitchen. You wanted her to have some time alone with her teammates, after all this was their season. They were going to make it, you were sure of it.
With a tray of snacks, a big popcorn bowl, and glasses you made your way back to the others. Excited chatter filled the room and everyone was busy in some way or another as you placed the tray down on the small coffee table, before just handing Paige the big Popcorn bowl.
“See that wasn’t so hard - OW!” Nika’s elbow found a home in the blonde's ribs. “She meant thank you for being so kind to us. Didn’t you?” The smile on Paige's lips was forced in pain as she gave a small ‘mhmm’ to satisfy her Croatian friend.
You were leaning over the couch, right next to Azzi’s face, trying to make out what movie they had put on, but in the end, you couldn’t figure it out. “Baby, can I borrow some of your clothes? Wanna get out of this dress” Your girlfriend turned around as well as she could while being restricted by her teammates on either side. “Of course, you don’t have to ask!”
In thanks you lean over, kissing her with a big smile on your face, “Thank you darling, you’re the best!” before you go to turn around and run to the bedroom where a still-packed suitcase waits for you.
But then you heard KK.
“Fuck. You know that we’re live. Right?”
A chill goes down your spine. Live? Like TikTok Live? And when you turn back to the group of girls, you see the phone propped up against a water bottle, the screen showing you in the background while your friends look at you.
With tears prodding at your eyes, you quickly find your way to the bedroom, ready for this day to be over and done with.
“Okay, y’all just ignore that. Never happened.”
Azzi found you still in your dress, face first on the bed, trying to hide from the world as sobs wrecked your body. “I ruined it.” Your girlfriend couldn’t help but chuckle, out of you two, you were definitely the dramatic one.
“You didn’t ruin anything. So what if people know that I have a kind, wonderful, and hot girlfriend?”
She could hear your whining through the mattress as you tried to hide, but eventually lost to her pulling you up and into her arms. “But we wanted to do a cute soft launch, and now we can’t.” Azzi couldn’t help but place a soft kiss on your lips once she saw your pouting. “Who needs a soft launch when I can brag about you now?”
“You’re not mad?”
“I could never be mad at you. It's okay, baby.”
You could still hear the girls in the living room having a good time. They had already forgotten what happened, making use of the opened-up space on the couch as you got changed with Azzi handing you things, throwing together a more comfortable outfit before making your way back to the others.
“Shift it Inês.” Azzi didn’t give her teammate much time before she simply sat down, not caring who was there or who she sat on. And it worked, they made way before she gestured for you to come closer and pull you onto her lap.
“Look who’s back, y’all!” KK’s voice was much louder than you had expected, but her cheerfulness immediately influenced you, looking much happier now.
“Azzi, is that your girlfriend?” The curly-haired girl hand-picked the comment from the live, effectively asking herself the question before placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek as she peeked out from behind you. “Yes. Yes, she is. Everyone, meet the most gorgeous girl in the world, my girlfriend!”
“Yuck. Go back to hiding, y’all are disgusting. Anyways… Imma end this here. Bye, y’all!”
And just like that KK pressed the ‘end live’ button, sinking the room in a temporary silence before the girls started hollering and clapping, slapping Azzi on the back and playfully pinching your sides in congratulations on finally making the relationship public. Even if it wasn’t like you planned.
The entirety of the movie was filled with either Paige or KK leaning over and shoving a phone in both of your faces “Look there are already edits. Damn they’re quick!”, or “You look so cute in this one, too bad they don’t have to experience y’all.
liked by nika.muhl and 44.330 others
azzi35: kinda messed up the soft launch, so here is the hard launch tagged: @ y/ninsta
ines_pbettencourt: My Parents!
➥ paigebueckers: Wait a second...
kamoreaarnold: Don't be fooled y'all! They not this cute in person.
➥ y/ninsta: Awhhh, you called us cute!!
#azzi fudd#azzi fudd fanfiction#azzi fudd headcanons#azzi fudd x reader#azzi fudd x y/n#azzi fudd imagine#azzi fudd fluff#uconn wbb#uconn huskies#uconn women’s basketball#wlw#lgbtq
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