#a LOT of it is just... why do you feel the need to put EVERY aspect of yourself through a trans lens

[l0vergirls]

take the reins

you've dug too deep, but there doesn't seem to be a downside to that.

batfam x reader

wc: 1382

a/n: i started watching mr. robot (plz no spoilers im literally on the 3rd episode) and fell in love with it and .. started thinking !!!.. & this is lowkey set up like the start of a series, but i'll see how it goes considering i have nothing plannef at all. .. pls do send asks about this story and this reader since i would love love love to expand on it hehe

It was as if time had stopped for a moment.

You found out a lot of secrets. Secrets that can put people behind bars. What do you do with those? Send in an anonymous tip to the rare non corrupt cop, of course. You like to think of it as being a non-violent vigilante. Instead of running around Gotham in a costume and beating the bad guys within an inch of their life, you sit comfortably behind your computer screen and dig.

You dig for anything and everything you can find on everyone you encounter. Why? Maybe it's the unrelenting feeling of needing control, or the fear of simply not knowing.

By breaking something down to its source code, you're baring it all; the rights, the wrongs, everything that makes or breaks you. You won't get caught off guard if you just know how something— someone works.

Sometimes, you find nothing noteworthy. Your neighbor in 405, for example. The first time you had passed her, she sneered at you. That was good enough reason to hack her.

The woman at 405 is Emma Davis, aged 35, 5'7, date of birth: May 15th. Studied at NYU, worked a desk job at some company in Star City before getting relocated to Gotham. Yeah, I wouldn't be ecstatic either. Brings home a different person every week. Occasionally smokes weed. Also your occasional hook up. Don't make decisions while intoxicated.

Emma Davis is just a run of the mill office worker, with the same vices as most people. Nobody special.

But this? This could get you in serious shit, if you aren't in for it already.

Bruce Wayne, date of birth: February 19th, 6'2, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, adoptive father of multiple children, and... crime fighting vigilante at night.

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

It wasn't hard to connect the dots after uncovering the man behind the cowl; you figured all his children were Robins at one point. Even the dead one. Except the dead one isn't really dead, is he?

Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne— all crime fighting vigilantes. What a family. You wonder who else you can unmask.

Fuck, you need to go home. Doing this at a coffee shop was a mistake, but damn it, their connection was fast. Too many people, too great a chance of a breakdown.

Close all the tabs, all the windows, scrub yourself clean of all evidence of intrusion. Don't leave a trace.

Shut down the laptop. Leave.

The sun is still out, they wouldn't be around yet. Everyone knows they all work at the dead of night.

You drown out the meaningless conversations around you, and you're on autopilot, heading to the apartment that you call home.

<>

The Waynes pride themselves on their secrecy. Hiding their vigilante alter egos behind carefully crafted lies. They built walls as tall as the buildings with Bruce's name plastered across the front.

It was a little too late when Alfred Pennyworth received an alert from the Batcomputer. Alfred sent all the vigilantes a message, and they came running in. After all, a security breach is detrimental to all of them.

The butler found a location, The Last Drop. A café right in the middle of the city.

Bruce looked through all of the files, recordings, reports— everything. The hacker didn't take anything, and didn't make copies. He deduced that whoever it was simply read.

That's no good either. Someone out there is aware of who they are, who the man under the mask is.

"Alfred, pull up CCTV footage at The Last Drop at the time of the hack."

On the screen were the grainy videos of the café, with at least 6 different angles. It was fairly crowded, filled with busybodies coming and going through the door. With 7 people on their laptops, they could narrow down the search for the culprit. But not by much.

Until two figures left the café at the same time, approximately a few minutes after the breach, but neither of them were sitting next to each other.

It was one or the other.

Tyler Hess, banker. Went to school in the city, stayed in the city. Clean records, comes from an upper middle class family. Nothing of note.

[Y/N] [L/N], cybersecurity engineer at LabyrinthTech, and one of the more favored employees. Born and raised in Gotham, graduated college a year early, and by all accounts, highly intelligent. Clean records, but skilled enough to be the one behind the hack.

"Well, I think we found our suspect. What're you gonna do about it?" Jason bristled, apprehensive that this person knew all about him.

"'You'? What, you've got your own plan?" Dick retorted.

"Maybe. Not like I'm gonna hurt the little thing," he spat. It was invasive enough that you'd hacked into their records, he thinks a little scare is warranted.

Bruce interrupted, "No, I'll deal with this. They accessed our data for a reason."

<>

It was inevitable that one of them was gonna pay you a visit tonight.

After locking yourself in the apartment, you figured a quick nap would be a good distraction from it. And it was, for a couple hours. Upon waking, you walked into the living room and lo and behold, vengeance himself was standing in your apartment.

"Can't say I didn't expect this, really," you spoke carefully, avoiding his gaze.

He grunted, "Then you know why I'm here. Why'd you do it? What do you gain from figuring out our identities?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a shadow moving across your window.

"Nothing. I just got curious. All billionaires are shady, and they're all hiding something. You were, by far, the most suspicious," you let out a breath. "Don't worry, that's not what anyone else thinks, at least not anyone that can do what I do,"

You hear another voice joining the conversation.

"Do what? Invade people's privacy? You should really be careful where you stick your nose in, hacker."

If looks could kill, you'd be dead ten times over. God, this guy's intense even through that helmet.

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, date of birth: August 16th, date of death: April 27th, 6'0, occasional smoker, former Robin. Likes pot roast.

Batman— no, Bruce Wayne interjected, "Suspicious?"

"Might just be me, but I found it hard to believe the richest man in the world would be throwing so much money into this dump of a city without an ulterior motive," you look at one of the ears on his cowl, it was almost cute, "Every other rich guy did. Whatever money they put out, it came back to them ten times bigger. Nobody really felt for this city."

That was your angle? The two men went still at your somber admittance. Sure, Gotham wasn't the best city, but that's why they did what they did, wasn't it? They had the slightest urge to show you that they really did care. And perhaps show off a bit.

Jason shifted, "You did it because of a gut feeling?"

You shrugged, "It was right, wasn't it? Something was up, just not... in the way I expected,"

It wasn't everyday you uncover a vigilante that turned out to be Gotham's beloved billionaire.

"Anyway, congratulations on not being an entirely bad guy. 'm not gonna tell anyone," you murmured, "not like anyone's gonna believe me,"

You see Red Hood look at Batman, a silent conversation was, no doubt, occurring.

The two vigilantes head for your window— do these guys ever use the front door?

Bruce turns to you, "Try not to do it again,"

"No promises," you huffed. "But your defenses could use some work. Comms, body cams, and other recorded footage— they were just there."

Red Hood's helmet glinted as he tilted his head at you. You shivered.

"Right, won't do it again," and that was that.

It was like they were never here.

What a night.

<>

You scrutinized the letter in your hands.

A job offer for a position you've never interviewed for. At Wayne Enterprises.

Batman works quick, that's for sure.

The pay was good, very good. You reckon there wasn't a single complaint about that.

Hm, they're making sure you're under their watch. If you were a threat, you'd be easier to keep an eye on. Easier to control.

You weren't one to give up control, but potentially having access to the city’s… well, everything, was something too tempting to give up.

Looks like LabyrinthTech was losing their best employee.

[fairestwriting]

Octatrio! With a shorter crush that can pick them up easily and does so in a bout of excitement, princess style!

Azul Ashengrotto

He wants you to think highly of him. Like, really wants to. A lot of the time, when you two are talking, that’s what’s in his mind. But much to his dismay — and no matter how clear you make that you find it endearing — he actually gets flustered very easily. He’ll try everything in his power to play it cool, but there’s only so much one can do to try to hide a blushing face.

And he thinks about you a lot, much more than he wants to let on. This includes coming up with ideas of how to bring out that enthusiastic side you have that he likes so much. Azul will remember each and every interest of yours that you mention, then plan out a way to casually bring it up some other time, maybe even get you a gift that’s related to it. There’s always a tailored justification on why you don’t need to pay him back for it too, “kind” enough for you to feel special, but not so much that it feels unbelievable.

The princess carry is a popular trope, and you’re small enough the thought has crossed his mind. Azul might not be the strongest guy around, but he’s definitely not weak, though he’s not really confident enough in his skills to really try, and there’s also things like timing to keep in mind, what even would be the right moment to do something like that— There’s a non zero chance that very thought would be on his mind right when you lift him up, even.

Actually yelps when you do it, drops whatever he’s holding, it’s a whole situation. He doesn’t know how to respond, both because he didn’t expect you to be strong and because you’re carrying him, he won’t even register whatever words you say. Floyd cheers you on if he’s nearby. When you put him down, Azul apologizes for his "unflattering" reaction in a voice that sounds like he’s trying really hard not to faint.

Jade Leech

He did have a feeling you were stronger than you looked, pretty much since you two met. It wasn’t something he guessed right off the bat, and he even doubted it a little bit sometimes, but he watched you close enough to be able to tell. It’s not that hard to notice, if you just look at the way you handle heavier objects and such… or at least that’s what he would tell you.

But of course, thinking you’d be able to lift him was far from what he had guessed. He’s very tall, clearly taller than you, and even though Floyd exercises more, Jade does still have a pretty decent amount of muscle. He’s not light at all! Even a lot of people around his height would have trouble lifting him up, and you just did it like that? So effortlessly? Definitely a way to get a very rare, very wide eyed look from him, that maybe no one has even seen in years.

“Oya, since when are you this strong?” He asks with a chuckle. He’s pretty good at getting it together and putting on a composed look, even when you’re carrying him around in your arms like that, but you’d have to be really oblivious to not notice the underlying shock. Jade will laugh along with you about whatever had you so excited in the first place, but the main thing that’s really in his mind is a reminder to watch you even more closely now. Where does that strength come from, after all? You’re really full of surprises, aren’t you…

Sort of wants you to do it again, but mostly starts to want to be the one to do it to you instead. Maybe it's something like payback. He has good self restraint, he’s not just going to scoop you up into his arms unprompted and carry you off wherever… But if the opportunity comes up, like if he takes you hiking and you comment about your legs being tired, he’s not ignoring it. Smiles slyly at you in a way that makes you wonder if that’s the reason he invited you in the first place.

Floyd Leech

Like Jade, he can tell you’re not weak, but it works completely different with him. He’s not really watching you per se and it’s much more of an instinctive feel. And on top of everything, you’re just so cute and tiny? He didn’t have to think to pick your nickname at all, you couldn’t be anything other than Shrimpy. He would’ve given it to you even if it meant taking it from someone else.

Floyd himself will pick you up a lot when he gets excited, laughing and twirling you around. It doesn’t actually matter how heavy you are, you’re light as a feather to him, his cute little Shrimpy that he could toss around if he wanted— He says that to you, straight up, with a huge cheerful smile on his face. He’ll never be quiet about how cute he thinks you are, doesn’t matter if you only met a few days ago.

If you’re excited about something while talking to him, chances are that he is too. You’ll be happily talking back and forth, sharing whatever comments first come to mind, and it was really just a coincidence you happened to get the urge to pick him up first this time. If you had been even just one second late, he would already have you lifted off the ground.

He’s surprised when it happens, obviously, but honestly a lot less shocked than most people would be? Maybe he just had a feeling all along, Floyd is just like that sometimes. He’s still laughing and joking with you about whatever the topic was before, with a side of "Woah, Shrimpy is so strong!", he doesn’t care how many things he ends up knocking over from getting twirled around by you. Will return the gesture when you put him down, lifting you higher than he ever had before. It genuinely makes him happy that you can do the same. Doesn’t mean he’s ever going to stop fawning over you being smaller than him though, you’re his little Shrimpy no matter what— Maybe even more than before now.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[fiftyfiftyfinchy]

hiiiii !!! if ur taking super specific requests i’d KILL for a george clarke mutual pining roommates fic xx

(request aside super excited to read anything you put out love having more writers in this space !!!)

You had been living with Chris, Arthur, and George for a little over a month, and things had settled into a comfortable routine. The initial chaos of moving in, unpacking, and learning everyone’s quirks had given way to a strange sort of domestic harmony. Chris always made a mess in the kitchen, Arthur had a tendency to leave shoes everywhere, and George? Well, George had a quiet way of slipping into your day without you even noticing.

It started small. Sharing tea in the morning before the others woke up. Folding his laundry when you were taking yours off the drying rack. Helping you hang a picture in your room because you couldn’t quite reach. Little acts of care that seemed so innocent… until they weren’t.

It was the way George looked at you that had your heart racing. Long glances from across the living room, his hand lingering on yours when he passed you something, a certain softness in his smile that you hadn’t seen him give anyone else. It was almost impossible not to notice—and apparently, Chris and Arthur had noticed too.

“Mate, just marry her already,” Chris teased one afternoon when George made you a cup of tea without even asking how you liked it. He’d just… known.

Arthur smirked, lounging on the sofa with a packet of crisps. “Yeah, George, why don’t you just whip up a candlelit dinner while you’re at it? Maybe a little violin music? And a horse-drawn carriage? Go big or go home, mate.”

“You two are insufferable,” George muttered, his cheeks pink as he avoided your gaze. “I’m just being polite.”

“Sure,” Chris drawled, winking at you. “Polite. That’s exactly what I’d call it. You’ve practically turned into a Victorian butler. Shall we start calling you Jeeves?”

You pretended to laugh it off, but your chest felt tight every time something like this happened. And it happened a lot.

When George suggested filming a video together for his channel—“It could be fun, and my viewers love seeing you pop up”—you’d agreed, thinking it would be a good way to shake off the awkwardness. But as you sat together on the living room sofa, the camera rolling in front of you, you realized you had underestimated just how hard it would be.

“Alright,” George said, adjusting the camera, his voice casual but his hands slightly shaky. “Today we’re ranking the best and worst British snacks, and as the resident American”—he glanced at you with a teasing smirk—“you get to tell us why everything we love is terrible.”

“Only if you can handle the truth,” you shot back, grinning. The banter came easily, the tension easing slightly as the video went on. But it was still there, simmering beneath the surface. Every time George’s knee brushed yours, every time his laugh lingered a little too long, every time his eyes flicked to your lips when you weren’t speaking… you felt it.

And you couldn’t stop noticing him. The way his hoodie clung to his shoulders, the curve of his jaw when he laughed, the way his hair always seemed just a little messy in a way that made you want to run your fingers through it. God, you needed to get a grip. This was George. Your roommate. Your very off-limits, very kind, and… irritatingly attractive roommate.

At one point, you leaned over to grab a bag of crisps, and George instinctively reached out to steady you. His hand on your arm was warm, his touch lingering a beat too long. Your eyes met, and for a moment, everything else fell away. You could feel your breath catch, the space between you charged with unspoken words. You weren’t sure if you wanted to kiss him or jump out the nearest window. Maybe both.

“Should we… uh, move on to the next one?” George asked, his voice breaking the silence. He pulled his hand back quickly, like he’d been burned.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “Let’s do it.”

When the video finally wrapped, you let out a shaky laugh. “Well, that was… something.”

George rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah. Thanks for doing this. I think it’ll turn out great.”

“Anytime,” you said, meaning it. Despite the tension, you couldn’t help but want more moments like this with him. Except maybe next time you wouldn’t have to fight the urge to crawl onto his lap and ruin everything.

That night, you found yourself in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. George wandered in, barefoot and wearing a hoodie that was just a little too big on him. He leaned against the counter, watching you in silence for a moment before speaking.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. We can leave it for Chris tomorrow… payback for all the times he leaves us his dishes.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’d rather not wake up to that disaster zone. Besides, it’s… relaxing.”

George stepped closer, taking the plate from your hand. “Let me help, then.”

The two of you worked in companionable silence, the sound of running water and clinking dishes filling the space between you. Every so often, your hands would brush, and every time, your heart skipped a beat. When you finished, George turned to you, his expression soft.

“You’ve really… settled in here,” he said. “It’s nice. Having you around, I mean.”

“It’s nice being here,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. You wondered if he could see the chaos behind your eyes, the absurd fantasies you’d been indulging, like the two of you kissing under the glow of the open fridge or him lifting you onto the counter just because he could.

For a moment, it felt like he might say something more, but then Chris’s voice rang out from the living room. “Oi! Are you two coming back, or should we start the movie without you? Or better yet, just tell us when the wedding is! We’ll plan the stag do!”

George stepped back, the moment slipping away. “We’ll be right there,” he called, his voice steady.

As you followed him back to the sofa, you couldn’t help but wonder how much longer you could dance around this feeling without it consuming you completely. Or worse, making you completely lose your mind.

[thanosscross]

Double, Double, Combo- Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader + Twin! Ji-Yong: part 2

Summary: After finally being cleared to perform again, you were determined to show the boys that nobody could perform like you did. Ending with you and your brother's groups celebrating a good tour so far, causing feelings to be brought to the surface between you and your brother's best friend

Warnings: Reader getting drunk <3, other than that none lovelies!

Translations!:

Oppa: Older Brother

Yeo-Dongsaeng: Younger sister

Umma: Mother/mom

Aein: Sweetheart

As always if I've mistranslated something, or missused a word, please let me know! As I am very rusty in Korean, I am learning though! <33

Watching the boys perform your set, you were in awe, mainly over how into it the boys were, each of them hitting every mark for the choreography, doing better than they would have with their own. Whenever you were finally cleared to return back to work, you were determined to show them up, wanting to prove to them and your fans, nobody could do your concerts like you do.

"Yeo-Dongsaeng!" Ji-Yong shouted, marching his way up to the stage as you panted loudly, trying your best to catch your breath before he made it to you. "Yes? Can I help you?" You asked, tilting your head slightly, knowing exactly what he was going to bring up "What changes are you making? And why did you tell YG to not tell me what they are?" He asked sternly, not liking the idea of you having full control over something, it wasn't that he didn't trust you, he did, he just didn't trust your free-will decisions. "It's fine! It's fine! Dae-Sung, and the girls are helping!" You smiled, trying to assure your brother that you had everything under control. Ji-Yong just huffed, whining softly "Just tell me!" He groaned, letting his head fall back as you just shook your head "Nope! You'll see tomorrow night at the show" You smiled, knowing your specific moves you had changed, were perfectly timed to Ji-Yong being off stage during a costume change.

Whenever the time would come for your section of the show, you'd be a nervous wreck, standing on your mark as you started to lowly sing into the microphone. Your album you and group had just released meant a lot to you, after constantly being seen as 'the baby of k-pop' you were determined to show the industry that you were a grown woman now. Swinging your hips to the music, you held your note, following the backtrack in your earpiece as you moved your hands down your torso, biting your lip as you smiled. As you smirked, you slowly slid to your knees, almost moaning the ending lyrics of your song as the music faded out. Your back-up dancers and the girls made their way to their next mark as you panted softly, glancing to the camera that filmed your performance and broadcasted to the big screen, smirking as you bit your bottom lip, bouncing back up to your feet to make your way over to your spot. Noticing as Seung Hyun stood off to the side of the stage, watching in shock before giving you a soft, sly smirk, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks.

You laughed softly as you heard the arena screaming loudly, knowing your brother would hear it, at least YG would be happy about the positive feedback to your last minute change in choreography. You'd have fun the rest of the show, your body getting the much-needed rest it lacked, allowing you to put your all into the performance, while not completely draining your body of every ounce of energy. Rushing off stage, you smiled brightly, turning around to face your group members, squealing loudly as you celebrated the successful show. "What. Was. That?" Ji-Yong asked, his tone was stern, giving you a harsh, protective glare "That was your sister making history, that boy groups aren't the only mature ones in K-pop" You huffed, turning your back to your brother, who just turned you back around by your shoulder "That was you doing something that Umma won't be happy about" He rephrased your statement, causing you to giggle softly "Umma saw it first, said I look beautiful" You smirked, watching as he stared in shock "You can do that and Umma doesn't get upset, but I have to hide tattoos!?" Ji-Yong laughed, you relaxed a little bit hearing him start to joke around, showing he wasn't too upset about your dance moves.

Whenever you all made it back to your shared hotel suite, you were all quick to let loose, knowing you had a three day break in-between shows, you were all going to enjoy it, with alcohol. While You and Ji-Yong were extremely similar, whenever you both were drunk? You were complete opposites. Ji-Yong ended up turning into the princess of the group, not wanting to move unless necessary, constantly fanning his face like he was royalty, or constantly gossiping your secrets, unless you had gotten to him first to stop him; You were outgoing, loud, and confrontational, always wanting to have the best time possible. As you danced around the suite with your bandmate, you weren't aware of your brother's gossiping to the group of guys a few feet away. "Y/n likes Seung Hyun, but DO NOT tell him, cause she lovesss him" He slurred, smiling softly as Seung Hyun blushed brightly, all eight of you were either tipsy, or drunk, there was no in between. Skipping over to the boys, right as your brother finished his sentence "Oppppa! What'd you say?" You accused, glaring at your brother as he was quick to cover his face laughing "Ji-Yong! What'd you say!" You repeated yourself, feeling your frustrations start to grow as he stood up "I told them you like Seung Hyun" He stated, before grabbing your hand gently "Listen to me, Yeo-Donsaeng! You two are meant for each other! You're perfect together!" He argued, you just huffed "No! You listen to me!" You shot back, poking his chest "Okay...I'm listening.." Ji-Yong replied, tilting his head, the others sitting and watching the two of you, it was already entertaining to watch you both argue, but it was even funnier watching you both argue while drunk. "What are you listening to? I wanna hear! Please!" You gasped, clearly too drunk to remember what the hell you were just talking about, jumping over to stand next to him as you looked around curiously, Seung Hyun couldn't hold back his laugh as he heard you. You just continued bouncing in your spot, looking at Ji-Yong expectantly "I'm listening to you!" He laughed loudly, holding your shoulders gently as he calmed your jumping "Oh! Ohh~" You stated, piecing together what was going on, your expression going from excited to frustrated again. "I like Seung Hyun! I don’t like you right now, Ji! So stop spilling my business to everybody!" You argued, poking your brother's cheek as he tried to keep his balance, the alcohol starting to hit you both. "Seee! I told you, Seung Hyun!" Ji-Yong slurred, turning to his tipsy friend, watching as he just chuckled and shook his head "Stop! You're telling my business, oppa!" You whined loudly, smacking your brother's chest quickly, he just huffed, grabbing your wrists as gently as he could "I'm not! I just want to see my yeo-dongsaeng happy!" He replied, almost like he was begging you to get with Seung Hyun already, you just huffed "I'd be happier if you stopped" Smiling playfully at him, your pout returned quickly as Ji-Yong just quickly shook his head "Rude, I oughta...I'm calling Umma!" You shouted, rushing to your phone as your bandmate snatched it first, giggling, Seung Hyun and Tae-Yang quickly restraining you and your brother. "I think, you two should go to bed" Tae-Yang laughed softly, watching as you went limp in Seung Hyun's arms, trying to make it harder for him to carry you. Seung Hyun just lifted you up, effortlessly carrying you while following behind his two other friends "Wait! I wanna sleep in Ji's room!" You protested as the boys forced you to part ways, your statement causing Seung Hyun to turn around quickly, rushing to catch back up with Tae-Yang and your brother.

As you laid in the hotel room bed, you huffed, everybody was either laying down or asleep now, and your brother was taking all of the blankets, leaving you to freeze. "Ji..Ji" you whispered, trying to shake him, or at least take some blankets back, he just stayed in his spot, sleeping peacefully. You sat up, determined to find another blanket or something, you were NOT cuddling with your brother in order to share the blanket, he'd probably try and smother you anyways. Standing up, you turned around to see your options, your bandmates had all made make-shift beds in the floor, and your brother's bandmates were fast asleep in their beds, making it seem like a real sleepover. As you tiredly made your way out of the bedroom area of the suite, you went into your room, snatching your blanket off of the bed, before going right back to the other room. You crawled into what you thought was the giant bed that you and your twin were currently sharing, instead never noticing the tall, older bandmember fast asleep with his back turned to you.

As Seung Hyun felt someone lay down next to him, he slowly turned his head to try and see who, relaxing whenever he saw the soft f/c of your nightshirt. "Y/n, Aein, you're in the wrong bed" He chuckled, turning around slowly to fully face you. At this point, you weren't concerned with any of it, the tiredness and remaining bits of alcohol in your system made you worried about one thing, warmth. Whenever Seung Hyun turned, you could practically feel his body heat radiating off of him, causing you to quickly scoot closer, pressing your body against his as you wrapped your arms around him tightly "J-Ji took the blankets, it's cold in here" You whispered, trying to find the best position to lay in to warm up the fastest, Seung Hyun just laughed softly, wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer. "Stop wiggling like a worm, and come here" He laughed, watching as you pulled his blanket up to your cheeks "I can't help it, you're really fucking warm" You giggled blushing as Seung Hyun pulled you even closer, your head and chest now laying on his, you suddenly became very sober and very aware of the closeness with your crush, his heartbeat racing, how amazingly warm he somehow was, how soft his hair felt whenever it brushed against your face anytime he'd let his head fall while laughing. "Ladies say it's because T.O.P is just too hot" He chuckled playfully, you covered your mouth, trying your best to quiet your laughs "You're adorable, truly, you are" You managed to get out through your giggles, Seung Hyun just shaking his head, keeping his arm wrapped around you tightly "Are you feeling any warmer?" He whispered after a moment, frowning whenever you didn't reply, as he glanced down, his heart fluttered. You were sleeping peacefully with your head rested on his chest, your hand gently placed over his side as you held his hand loosely, Seung Hyun could feel his heart racing even more after that, almost like it was going to explode.

Waking up the next morning, you were met with your bandmates, brother, and his bandmates surrounding you and Seung Hyun excitedly “you two are so cuteee!” Dae-Sung smiled excitedly, hugging your brother in excitement “leave me aloneee!” Seung Hyun groaned tiredly, rolling to face away from all of the others, after a moment, he turned back around pulling the blankets over your heads “this is better, I can see you this way” he smiled, you were in awe with everything, his voice whenever he first woke up, his messy hair, his cute sleepy smile. “Thanks for keeping me warm last night, I really thought I was going to freeze to death at one point” you giggled softly, hugging him gently before gasping “they have a coffee bar downstairs..wanna go with me?” You smiled softly, watching as his eyes lit up “why did nobody tell me about that?!” He gasped, throwing the blankets off of you both, jumping to his feet before offering his hand to you. “We’re going to go get coffee!” You smiled excitedly, waving to your brother before rushing off with Seung Hyun. The both of you rushed down the hotel stairs, giggling like children as you made it to the breakfast area of the hotel, a counter covered in nothing but different coffees, syrups, sugars, flavoring.

As you both sat at one of the small tables, you giggled watching as Seung Hyun finished yet another cup of coffee that you had made for him “see! It's good! And you said my coffee looks like it’d give you a cavity!” You giggled, he just smiled at you softly shaking his head “it probably will! But it tastes good” He protested laughing softly, you just rolled your eyes, knowing he secretly loved the drink, lifting your cup to your lips taking a sip, you noticed Seung Hyun watching from over the rim of your mug. Placing the cup down you raised your eyebrow at him “can I help you?” You asked playfully, reaching to wipe your mouth before Seung Hyun grabbed your wrist gently, grimacing at the thought of you wiping the foam from your coffee off of your mouth with your hand, something you did often “that’s not very sanitary, Aein” he laughed before standing up, leaning over the table to press his lips against yours, your cheeks immediately heating up with a bright blush. Kissing him back softly, Seung Hyun’s hand slowly found its way to cup your cheek, you felt your stomach flip and your skin tingle as you slowly pulled away from him, offering him a sweet smile “what has gotten into you, Sir?” You asked teasingly, he laughed softly, fidgeting with his hands as he spoke “Well, technically speaking, three cups of coffee, emotionally? I have fallen for you hard, Kwon Y/n, harder than I have any women, and it’s confusing, but I want to be confused with you?” he explained, almost like he was questioning his words as he spoke, you smiled, swearing you could hear your own heartbeat racing as you rested a hand on his cheek “Well..I mean..I think it’s kind of obvious from my rant last night, I feel the same” you sheepishly admitted, remembering your ‘argument’ with your twin brother in front of everybody. “So we’re doing this?” Seung Hyun asked, taking your hand in his, trying to contain his excitement that was mixed with nervousness “I guess we are” you smiled shyly, bringing him closer to place your lips on his again, Seung Hyun could feel his body relax, hearing your confirmation and your lips against his. Almost like it was planned, the others walked in, looking at you both in shock “Oh My..god” Ji-Yong whispered watching as you quickly pulled away, hiding your face, unsure of his reaction. Ji-Yong was always trying to get you two together, so he should be excited..right?

—

You like lovelies? I tried adding a little more length this this part <3 I never really noticed how short they were until the other day scrolling through on my phone (I usually write on my laptop) so please let me know how you like it! And if you prefer longer fics like this or the shorter ones <33 excited to hear from you lovelies!! <333

—

Taglist!!!

@onyxmango

@ag02212023

@acehasmyheart

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@seunghyunwifey

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@lilou-0401

@maenoakasuna

@ericityyy

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@frangiipanii

@seunghyunwifey

@sturnioloslut-b

@isssaaaa2111

@goodnight-n-go-home

@skzdreamz

@enhasrii

@sunhyeswife

@ilovethe141

@saraaisfree

@cheese10001

[inthelibrarybtw]

get to know college!basketball!captain!rafe

college!basketball!captain!rafe who has loved sports since he was a kid, fell in love with basketball when he was around 10 and took it seriously from that moment on. he wants to go professional after college if he can but is also working on his finance and administration degree. He has always been very smart and doesn’t worry a lot about grades but understands the importance of them, reason why he got a full ride in college and got recruited for the basketball team. who is very disciplined with everything that he does, once he commits to doing something he will do it and will do his best. he loves going out with his friends but also likes to stay in, secretly he loves cooking all thanks to his mom and his sister. 

college!basketball!captain!rafe who is very cocky and a flirt, knows he is good-looking and that’s the reason why everyone thinks he’s a player, he has never had a girlfriend in college. Everyone seems to know him and or fall for him, he doesn’t really care about it but it boosts his ego. He has been around a bit yes, but not as much as people think, he is picky even if he doesn’t like to admit it. He thrives on teasing people, especially his friends but he’s also very kind and intentional, not everyone gets to see this side of him. His family is very important to him, he has a good relationship with his parents and sister. 

college!basketball!captain!rafe who is very easy to please, just some good food, music, and his friends and he can be the happiest man alive. who loves watching movies and of course, never misses one basketball game, usually watches them with his dad or his friends, it’s his favorite thing to do. Has never missed one basketball practice since he was 10, just the very counted times he has been sick. His love language is physical touch, gifts, and acts of service the last two he prefers giving them than receiving them. Quality time could be added to but in very specific scenarios. His favorite artists are J. Cole, The Weekend, and Kanye. who is also a dog guy, every time he sees a dog he asks if he can pet them. 

college!basketball!captain!rafe who loves being an older brother but sometimes he wishes the age gap wasn’t that big, fortunately, he has a cousin his age who might as well be his sister. they grew up together and are kinda inseparable thanks to that. He usually goes to her to talk about his feelings, since he knows he won’t get judged by her. he’s not the best at showing his feelings, or so he thinks, usually his eyes speak volumes, and anyone can see it but him. no, but really, talking about how he feels sometimes can be the hardest thing he can do. he tends to put everyone first and even if he’s this confident guy when it comes to his feelings he’s anything but. 

college!basketball!captain!rafe who is incredibly perceptive about how other people feel as long as the feelings are not directed at him because then he’s blind. who likes to take time to get to know someone and help as much as he can. who also can easily get angry when things don’t go his way and when this happens he prefers not to talk to people in case he says something he doesn’t really mean. If he’s really frustrated he tends to isolate himself to calm down but if he needs to talk to people he will be very cold towards them, and he immediately regrets it.

authors note: i always have trouble writing intros because i don't know what you should know before reading and what you should discover while reading but i finally finished it. i'm very obsessed with him, and i hope you guys too :)

taglist: @zyafics @maybankslover @niaunoffical @marleymarleymarleymarley @rafesbabygirlx @akobx @papercranesandinkstains @masonmountme69 @winterivory if you want to be added send an ask or comment! :)

REBLOGS, COMMENTS AND LIKES ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED

INTHELIBRARYBTW ✧.*

[anon-sect]

Bryan so wanted to go on the hunting trip with his straight friend. He really liked hanging out with Steve a lot. But he noticed things changed when he came out to him. They didn't hang out as much as they used to. He began to treat him differently than before when hanging out with his other buddies.

After much pleading, Steve agreed to let him go hunting with him. Bryan was glad to get to hang out with his buddy again. As Steve pulled up to an area and turned the truck off, he looked at Bryan. "I have a confession. There is a reason why I agreed to bring you hunting with me." Steve paused as he pulled out a strange device form under the seat. "I needed some hunting boots." He added.

Bryan was confused as to him going hunting had to do with getting new hunting boots. "Where are you new hunting boot?" He asked him as he looked around the cabin for them. He saw Steve smiling back at him.

"Right in front of me." Steve spoke as he fired the device at Bryan. A ray of light struck his gay friend. He watched as he quickly shrunk in size and reformed into a pair of boots for his size 11 feet.

Bryan found himself unable to move or speak. HIs field of view was limited with not much light. He found himself split in half. He then saw what was truly his fate. A black socked foot entered his new form and pressed down on his face. He was forced to experience it once more as the other boot was put on Steve' feet. The black socks smelled like they weren't washed in days. They reeked of rotten chees and eggs. He tried to get away from the foul stench but not had the ability. His friend had only brought him along just to turn him into footwear to wear for his hunting trip and nothing more.

Steve found his new hunting boots comfortable. His previous pair had worn out. He had that pair for the past five years. His previous hunting boots were special, too. They were once an annoying neighbor who constantly was throwing trash on his side of the fence. He was a good pair of boots for the past five years. It was time for a new pair of boots, and his old buddy was just the one he needed.

"I hope you last longer than the previous guy." Steve laughed as he got out of his truck and sat at the end. Drinking a bottlen of water before getting ready to go to his favorite hunting spot. So far, the boots were even comfortable to walk in.

Steve then remembered the durability spray he had recently bought. He had it in the bag he brought with him. He sprayed his new boots from the soles on up. "Now you should last for a long time, at least twenty years or more." He laughed as he gathered up his gear to head to his hunting spot.

Bryan was in agony as every step felt like the weight of the world was crushing him over and over. He could feel wherever Steve was stepping. It felt like his back was being pressed into the ground or wherever the surface he was stepping. The bombardment of the foul stench of the socks made the torture even worse. Yet to hear that he could be stuck this way forever, to be worn on Steve's feet, made him cry. He wanted to hang out with his friend, but not be literal footwear.

[bestalbertcamuslover]

Plastic Surgery

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing:  Franco Colapito x GF! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: plastic surgery mentioned✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

Dating someone so public and admired was definitely an experience. There was a reason she wanted to keep it private, but the media found out much earlier than they had planned. One day, as he was picking her up from college, someone snapped a photo, and just like that, everyone knew.

The scrutiny was as brutal as she had expected—people dissecting every piece of information they could find online. Perhaps more hurtful, though, were the comments about her appearance. Any perceived flaw was pointed out by countless strangers. Of course, not every comment was critical, but who pays attention to the kind ones anyway?

That only aggravated her already fragile self-esteem, leaving her even more self-conscious about her appearance. She began obsessively refining her makeup, perfecting her hair, and scrutinizing every detail of her looks. But no matter how much effort she put into superficial improvements, it never felt like enough—enough to stop the criticism, enough to silence the noise.

Inevitably, her thoughts turned to a single conclusion: the only reasonable path was cosmetic surgery, wasn’t it?

Franco drove down the road with ease, the afternoon sun painting golden streaks across the dashboard. She sat beside him, phone in hand, her thumb scrolling incessantly. Her brows were furrowed, lips pressed together in that way that meant she was deep in thought—or trouble.

He glanced over as they slowed for a red light, his curiosity piqued. “You know,” he teased, his accent wrapping around the words, “you look way too serious for someone who just got out of class. What’s going on, amor?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, a little too quickly, tilting her phone away from him like a guilty teenager.

Franco smirked, his instincts kicking in. “Oh, come on. ‘Nothing’ with that face? Let me see,” he teased, leaning slightly to sneak a look.

“Franco, watch the road!” she protested, locking her phone and shoving it into her lap, but not before he caught a glimpse of the open webpage.

His smile faltered as the word “cosmetic surgery” registered. His playful demeanor softened, replaced by quiet concern. At the next stoplight, he turned to her, his voice gentle. “Amor... what’s that about?”

“It’s nothing,” she repeated, her gaze fixed firmly out the window.

“Really?” he said, cocking an eyebrow. “Because it looked a lot like ‘I think I need surgery dot com.’”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn’t say anything, her fingers twisting in her lap.

Franco’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he let out a small sigh. “Is this about the comments?”

Her silence was all the confirmation he needed.

“Dios mío,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “Amor, why do you even read that stuff? Those people—they’re bored, miserable, and lack a life.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, but he caught the tiniest twitch of her lips.

“I’m serious!” he continued, his voice animated now, trying to coax a smile out of her. “You think someone with their life together is online talking about you? No. They’re too busy living. The ones who leave those comments? They’re jealous. Of your talent, your looks, and—” he grinned, throwing her a quick, cheeky look—“the fact that you get to date me.”

She couldn’t help it; a small laugh escaped, though she quickly stifled it. 

“I’ll take that laugh as an agreement” he said, triumphant. “So why are you letting ridiculous people get to you?”

Her smile faded, replaced by a vulnerable look she rarely showed. “It’s not just them, Franco. It’s... everything. I just... I don’t feel good enough.”

He softened immediately, his teasing giving way to something more sincere. “Amor,” he said, reaching over to rest his hand on hers. “You don’t need surgery. You don’t need to change anything. Not for them, not for anyone.”

She looked at him, her eyes doubtful. “You really think that?”

“I know that,” he said firmly. Then, in true his fashion, he couldn’t resist adding, “But if you’re still not convinced, I could always pull up other fan pages. The comments about my hair after races alone will make you feel like a queen.”

That earned him a real chuckle.

“See? Much better,” he said with a grin. “No more websites like that, okay?”

She nodded, her heart lighter, and when his fingers gave hers a reassuring squeeze, she squeezed back.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: English is not my first language, and I hope you liked it <3

[brittle-doughie]

(Bro I feel like Blood Orange would actually hunt me down for what I’m about to do)

Ok so I thought of a funny scenario but I have NO idea how this can go. So hear:

Y/N: “ah, I’m sorry Princess Cookie. But I can’t go to the ball at the Hollyberry Palace.”

Princess: “*gasp* why?? D-did something happen? Did we do something you didn’t like?? Why??”

Y/N: “well, uhhh-“

???: “Y/N dear!”

???: “thank goodness, thought I lost you there for a second.”

Y/N: “oh no need to worry, I’m just talking to a friend.”

???: “oh, then do forgive my intrusive then.”

Arancia Vino?: “My name is Arancia Vino Cookie, one of the head scientists in the Crème republic.”

Princess: “…uh… Hi. Your uhhhh…”

Arancia Vino?: “tall? Weird looking?”

Princess: “y-yeah. I never met a cookie as… strange as you.”

Arancia Vino?: “I get that a lot. I do sometimes wonder how I even got a body such as this. It’s not every day you see some cookie with a humanoid appearance.”

Princess: “I can imagine.”

Y/N: “welp, you two seem to be getting along. But we have places to be.”

Arancia Vino: “right, it was nice meeting you.”

Princess: “you too, hope you have a good day…”

Princess(internally): “Who TF is she?? Why is she with Y/N? How is she so tall? What’s with that body?? Is she even a girl?!”

Y/N: “well that was fun.”

Arancia Vino?: “yeah… question.”

Arancia Vino(Blood Orange): “how long do I have to keep up this act? If someone, witches be damned the cult, found out about this, it won’t end well.” 

Y/N: “….just until my back is fixed. I don’t want another bear hug to be put in the hospital.”

‘Arancia Vino’ : “fair point. Let’s just head over to the party. I’ve always wondered what Cheesecakes parties were like.”

Y/N: “trust me, they’re to die for.”

‘Arancia Vino’: “I’ll see for myself.”

Me after doing all this:

…yeah, I should probably explain: Blood Orange Cookies body is basically a mix of a male and female body exaggerated. It’s also why he wears baggy pants (mostly because I’m slightly uncomfortable with that detail but I don’t want to change it.)

Blood Orange is just full of surprises, god damn. No wonder Princess Cookie was so flabbergasted.

[hivemuthur]

Nothing's New - Ch.1.

viktorxfemale!reader explicit!

AU modern era, lovers to enemies to lovers, getting back together, a lot of angst, smut to come somewhere mid-way through

Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6.

word count: 5,7K

tag: #nothings new

summary: It's a bit late, but I had to touch some grass. This is an expository chapter that puts almost all pawns on the table. It's mostly angst and it's a very experimental thing for me, I will be updating warnings as we go. Updated probably every week or sooner!

Cross-posted on AO3 (soon)

—

“Hey,” he says in a warm tone, a gentle nudge on your elbow as a cold glass is placed bottom-flat on your palm. A very much welcomed chill in the suffocating, wet, soggy heat on Jayce’s balcony, which still isn’t as bad as the inside of his apartment. Then, a pair of strong hands, their warmth equal to that of the voice, wraps around your biceps. A pair of blue eyes looks deeply into yours, analysing, searching the inside of your head.

“It’s okay. I love you.”

A layer of moist cotton brushes your face before the mass of a broad chest squishes your nose in an embrace.

“What?” you muffle into the material, tasting salt against your lips, the smell of sweat—the good kind, the strong, manly kind—and pine hitting your nostrils, your arms hanging idly by your sides, one of them gripping the cold glass tighter. “Why would you say it now?”

That is a first. A love confession thrown casually between the two of you, like a lifebelt for your sanity, waggling desperately in a muddle. He moves away, and you down the whiskey along with the ice cube, which you shove into your cheek.

His palms still cradle your arms as he leans in, his head hanging pensively from his neck. A wonderful, beautiful, reassuring smile paints his lips as he says, “I just felt like saying it. And it’s alright.”

Hot, very hot, very honest lips press themselves to your sweaty forehead, leaving a lingering kiss. The embrace resumes, this time your face pressed to the side of his neck, as he murmurs, “I don’t need you to say it back. I don’t need you to do anything, just… try to relax.”

Absurd. No one just throws their heart out like that to be eaten. No one with any common sense or self-respect.

You push yourself back from his chest, letting his hands fall, entwined, on your lower back. God, the heat is unbearable. “This is a big thing to say so casually. Why now?”

“Alright, you got me,” he chuckles. “I wanted to ask you something.” He scratches his neck and looks at you with timid hope.

His tone is playful, expectant to the point of twisting your guts. When all he’s confronted with is a pair of eyebrows raised into two inquisitive arches, he relents, “I want you to move in with me.”

You swallow your ice cube. With a painful gulp, it travels down your throat, and you can feel it passing your heart, your lungs, all the way down to your stomach. You can hear it dropping into the pool of acid with an echoing plop sound. Shit.

“Is this because he is here?”

“What? No—” his grossly hot hands cradle your cheeks, and you feel your skin warming up even more under his calloused fingers.

“Of course not. I have planned it, and I have proof,” he says calmly, pulling a set of extra keys from his back pocket and dangling them between your faces. “See?”

When no reaction comes from your side, just a stunned expression, he starts jangling them furiously and laughing.

His smile is blinding. Imperfect, teeth almost too big for his face, it makes his cheeks rise up, his eyes crinkle heavily, and he looks gorgeous.

“You are around all the time anyway. But fine—just promise you will think about it.”

Wordlessly, you take the keys from his hand and put them in your pocket. “This is not a yes. But I will think about it,” you shoot him a warning look, which softens immediately when you see him resist an expression of relief crawling up his face.

“And thank you,” you say with a tiny hint of a smile, placing a sweaty hand on his cheek and running your knuckles through his stubble.

“You should mingle. These are your friends, after all.”

Yes. These are your friends. Who, against their better judgement, haven’t ostracised you, as you were sure they would. Who have greeted you wholeheartedly at the doorstep with real, joyful hugs and expressions of relief upon seeing you. Jayce grabbed you tightly and lifted you off the floor, and Mel gave you a massive, loud smooch on the cheek, very aunt-worthy.

“What are you going to do? Just air out all evening?”

You relax into his touch, pushing your hands down his jeans’ back pockets.

“Oh, I’ll mingle. Just… later,” he smiles and kisses you lovingly.

His kisses are nice, though stressful. Like he is thanking you for existing and allowing him to stand by and maybe hijack your act of being. Even though he assures you there are none, the invisible, deniable mass of expectations makes you walk on wonky legs around him.

His hands cradle your shoulders, rubbing them so tenderly, you almost don’t mind the heat. Almost. Slowly, very slowly, his touch has crawled into your memory and become the default touch you expect whenever feeling the sensation of someone’s skin resting on yours, and sadly, a little part of your soul usually whines in disappointment at being touched at all. A good, uncomplicated man with enough insecurities to keep you relatively safe and complacent.

You give him one last lingering peck and head inside, letting the wave of inhumane temperature and the scent of sweat mixed with alcohol breath wash over you. Mel and Jayce live in an old building; no artificial air allowed. It reminds you of your previous place, where, against all odds, you slept naked, covered only by a thin sheet of cotton, just so you could wrap yourself around your skinny love. You push the memory away, as it twists your stomach.

A sea of teeth greets you indoors, one smile after the other, as you squeeze yourself through the crowd toward the kitchen. You march straight to the freezer to pour yourself another drink filled with ice cubes and sigh with relief when a cold gush fans your face.

“Good evening,” a voice startles you so hard you gasp.

Fuck.

You look to your right beyond your shield of the freezer door, and there they are—two slim calves draped over each other and a cane in front of them.

Still crouched, you take a fistful of ice from the drawer, stand up, and say only a stupid, “Hi.”

Viktor is studying you, like an owl would study a rodent. His eyes glint in the dusk, blinking slowly as if he is waiting for you to say anything that has more than one syllable.

He saw you coming in, and his heart skipped a beat. After a quick analysis of all the options he had, he chose the cowardly hideout in the bathroom, a splash of water onto his neck swollen from grinding teeth, and a couple of deep breaths stolen while sitting on the closed toilet.

You alone are enough to make his skin crawl, and yet, to ensure his ruin, you brought your ‘new project’ with you.

Tall, taller than Jayce, broad, broader than Jayce, a man who steals the gasps from the crowd wearing only a white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. A complete embodiment of everything Viktor isn’t. A slap on the face, a shoe sole grinding it into his pride.

And now you are here, scrambling up from the floor, melting ice dripping through your fingers.

“How… are you?” you ask dumbly, before cringing at your own obsequious tone. You know exactly how he is. Mel has sneaked in a few text messages before you cut her off and changed the subject. Jayce has tried to contact you at the beginning but eventually stopped—possibly at Viktor’s request.

He looks like a man who has just recovered from a long, devastating disease and has managed to crawl his body into the outside world for the first time in months. And judging by the way you felt in the first two months, that might have been true.

But after the first two months, you met Paul. And Paul is warm and gentle, good at mending broken objects and skittish animals, so you are an obvious perfect fit. He also lies a lot about his life, films he’s seen, and books he’s read, but to peel that entire truth out from its shell you would have to spend more time with him.

He made the first step after buying a book from you. His hands were rough, his fingertips hardened from the heavy strings of a double bass, but his soul seemed clean, and he smelled nice.

He is a teacher by day and a musician by night, chasing his passion with a steady pace, happy to have two good hands that allow him to play, hug you, cook for you, and dance with you. He fixed his eyes on you as you carefully wrapped Coming Through Slaughter for him, while he threw silly remarks in your direction.

“You’re really good at this,” he said with a dumbfounded grin.

“Wrapping books?” You looked at him from underneath your glasses, but the contagion of his smile bled into you, and the quip held no power whatsoever.

He chuckled and slid you a flyer with a 20-dollar bill, brushing your fingers. “Come see my band tonight. I’ll buy you a drink.”

You took it but said nothing. With a teasing smile, you handed over his book and chanted the shop’s slogan, “Thank you for shopping at the Bookhounds of Brooklyn.”

He smiled back, tucked the package under his armpit, and gave you one last look. “See you tonight.”

You shook your head. But you went. And then you got stuck in the tight wrap of his arms holding you through the night. And then before you could stop it from getting serious, he met Mel and Jayce and pried them about your quirky behaviours between drinks and snacks. Before you could stop anything, Paul glued himself to your life and became a needy sticker you carried with you everywhere. Sometimes you caught yourself thinking awful things, like if Viktor felt the same around you when you probed him for chunks of words after he came back from work utterly defeated and worn out.

And now, while your chunk of beautiful meat is airing his arse outside, you are stuck in the kitchen with your ex. Three years flash behind your eyeballs as you wait for him to reply to your stupid question. “I’m… fine.”

The words come out choked, and Viktor scowls internally. He can feel the scrutiny of your stare and clears his throat. He is far from fine. He is beyond pissed with Jayce for not telling him you were bringing a plus one. He is pissed that your plus one is his exact opposite. He is absolutely livid with Jayce for telling him to act civil and try to rebuild the friendship—for Jayce’s sake. “Please, try, for me,” Jayce had pleaded, and Viktor could only scoff in his face.

But above all this, he feels a wave of white-hot anger anytime he thinks of you. The sight of you surges a blinding hatred through his veins, and he pictures your spine snapping in half. And above even this, he hates himself, because the sordid, unspoken truth is staring him in the face. He misses you with every bone in his body.

He misses your face. He misses your half-drunken cups of tea everywhere to the point where he has started doing it himself. He misses the weight of you on the mattress next to him. He misses your whining about the heat in his apartment in the summer and the chill in winter. He misses word wrestling with you. He misses your jokes. He misses fucking you. He misses your snoring.

He misses your hand at the nape of his neck late at night when he sits hunched over the desk, and he scolds himself for ever brushing it off, because there is a strong possibility that nobody will ever touch him like that again. That he will never want anyone to even try to mimic your touch.

“I can see that your new project proves successful?” Don’t sound so hurt. He shifts his weight on the cane and looks down at your hand, holding the ice out like an offering.

“Don’t call him that,” you scoff. This was such a bad idea. But if you were ever to emerge from your cave of love, where you have lived happily with Paul for the last four months, Mel’s birthday is the perfect occasion. And Jayce would probably give an arm and a leg to get his friends back.

“Forgive me. Your new affair goes well then,” he corrects himself with less emotion but an equal amount of venom as earlier. He feels like stabbing you with his shoulder blade.

“Viktor,” you sigh, defeated. “This isn’t an affair. It’s… serious.” Wrong word, very wrong, but unretrievable now. It sounds like an apology, your brows furrowing, your face twisting into an upside-down smile. It seems serious enough to be said out loud.

“Oh? Working fast. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Viktor turns away, but it takes him merely a beat to pick up what you were putting down. Serious. His lungs begin to burn. He wants to rub sand into his eyes and cover them with bleach, so he never has to look at you again.

“Viktor, it just happened. Please, let’s not do this here.”

Seeing him turning on his heel, you drop the remaining ice in the sink and reach out for him. Before you can grab his arm, he pauses.

“Apologies. We don’t have to do any of that, in fact, ever,” he throws over his shoulder.

You didn’t give him the benefit of the last conversation, so why would he? His lizard brain screams at him to flee and hide, away from your touch, from your eyes, from your ice-cold hand, from your hot mouth. But he isn’t fast enough.

Your hand lands on his forearm, and he freezes. He speaks your name softly, a plea to let him go as your touch burns him, even though your hand is wet and cold.

Part of him wants to grab it and lick the ice-cold water off your fingers. To choke on your tongue and beg you to come back to him. But this part of him is weak, and the stronger, wounded part wins. The one that shrugs your hand off in a familiar gesture, this time less painful, more anticipated than in the confines of Viktor’s apartment in the heat of last summer.

“I know you are hurting,” you say carefully. You know him well enough to recognize when his defences become ridiculous in their concentration of venom. If he were a cat, he would hiss at you and bend his spine into a banana.

“You know nothing,” he scoffs. “You cannot possibly know. Hiding away in shame for six months. How would you know? If you are happy and serious with someone else?”

Careful. He is inching toward saying too much. It feels like having open-heart surgery in front of a live studio audience, and no one even laughs. He wants to die and never be born again. He wants to disappear from the face of this sorry planet, just as you have disappeared from his life. He wants to kill Paul and wear his skin like a pelt, even though he doesn’t even know if the guy deserves it.

You feel the anger stirring somewhere within you at his behaviour. He is not the only person whose three-year relationship has fallen apart. He’s not the only one who mourned it and cried for it. It sounds great in your head, so:

“Viktor, you are not the only one—”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare tell me that you are hurting. It was fixable, and you—” he snarls, accentuating each sentence with a thump of his cane.

“If it were fixable, we would have fixed it. Viktor, please,” you plead quietly, trying not to drag anyone’s attention. You were supposed to be civil; Mel has asked you to.

“No. Just… stop. There was time for this, now it’s… it’s not the time. Enjoy your evening.” His voice strangles; his face paints in resignation as he leaves you alone in the kitchen.

How different this is to your first, to your second encounter, to all the encounters between your first and this one.

You remember it so well. Jayce was fuming when you told him what had gotten into your hands. The first English edition of Geometry and Experience by Albert Einstein. He wouldn’t be able to buy it, of course, but he really wanted to see it. He begged you to let him steal a glance and to let him bring a friend.

And so he brought his friend. You led them to the basement of the shop, where the book was resting on its plinth, in a special dust-free room with perfect temperature and perfect humidity. You took them to the shrine for books, and it felt almost religious.

And you remember the first time you laid your eyes on Viktor and blushed instantly at how his name rolled off his accented tongue when he introduced himself.

You remember how you thought this man was effortlessly everything. How you stole a glimpse of the column of his throat when he hummed in awe over the book and how you wondered if he would ever be willing to hum like that straight into your ear. How strangely erotic his hands were when you pictured them cradling your neck. How in this shrine, you would pray to him so he would do that in a sign of benediction.

Oh God, you wanted to take him home and just keep him there until he was out of breath.

And you remember how beautiful his face was when he first came into your mouth and how he immediately leaned in to kiss you, even before you could swallow. How you thought this was the most sensual thing anyone had ever done for you, with you, drinking his own cum from your tongue. The unity of bodies sealed with a kiss so grateful you almost fell apart.

The images of Viktor flood your mind’s eye: him drinking coffee on the windowsill, naked in the scorching summer sun as he warms his bones; his eyes observing you from between your thighs; him licking your face in a gross act of affection; slumped against the desk, asleep halfway through writing down his notes; sneaking behind you to warm his hands under your armpits; his face when he is sleeping, his hair scattered on the pillow; singular strands on the bathroom floor even though he always accuses you of losing hair; him pinning you down playfully when you win a banter over something and immediately groping your ass; him imitating trumpet sounds from your jazz records with his mouth; him drinking soup straight from the bowl; his glistening lips, his clean nails, his freckled chest.

You sink your teeth into your lip, feeling a rush of tears pooling in the corners of your eyes when Paul enters the kitchen. Always on time.

“Everything alright?” The way Paul hangs himself from the doorframe and immediately lights up when he sees you. The way he walks up and hugs your head to his chest, saying your name softly and making soothing sounds straight into your ear. Ah, yes, he is exactly what you need.

“Nothing, just… you know,” you sigh, relaxing into his touch.

“It’s okay,” he hums softly. “Do you want to scram?” He pulls away from you to lay a lifeboat at your feet.

“Oh God, yes, please,” you let out a breath you’ve been holding, and it feels so good your eyes roll. Anything but another encounter with the ghost of the love of your life. Of the former love of your life.

“Let’s go then,” he says, taking your hand and leading you discreetly to the hallway.

Mel stops the two of you in your tracks. “You cannot be serious right now,” she hisses, though not unkindly. Big, comical eyes accompany the hiss, so you know she isn’t really angry. “Viktor left; you don’t have to run away, guys,” she adds, a plea in her voice evident.

“Mel, I’ll meet you for coffee? This has been... lovely, I’m just—” You are just so utterly devastated that even if Viktor disappeared from the face of this planet, you wouldn’t want to stay.

“Oh, please, do not try to bullshit me. I’m sorry about this, Paul, but I need to speak some sense into this fool.” She waves a mass of your man away from you to grab your forearms. “Nobody is angry with you. We miss you. Please, you guys have to work this out. Jayce is still heartbroken, and I can’t do anything about it,” she says quietly, her voice laced with sincerity and helplessness.

Jayce was really heartbroken about your heartbreak. On the night of the event, Jayce found Viktor struggling to breathe in his apartment, so he took him home and kept him on his couch for a week, to Mel’s initial disapproval. But when she saw Viktor on the doorstep of her flat—when he clung to her and sobbed with a dry cry, repeating, “She’s gone,” over and over again; when she saw the marks on his palms where his nails had dug into the skin—she was ready to give him her own bed.

Mel felt bad in that moment because she knew it would happen. You had told her how hopeless everything had turned. That Viktor wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t try, and how the two of you had grown estranged, guarded, distant, and how you couldn’t pinpoint the moment when things had started to fall apart. How he would flinch away from your touch and sleep miles away from you, a vast, uncaring space between the two of you in your tiny bed.

So she held him, soothing his cries. She made him a cup of tea, gave him her favourite blanket, and kissed his forehead before turning off the coffee table lamp in their lounge. Then she went to slump her body next to Jayce, whose face had never been more worried. He asked her how Viktor was, and all she could do was shake her head in resignation.

“For now, it looks bad,” she said, cradling Jayce’s head to her chest and running her fingers through his hair. “But these things pass, you know,” she mused gently, not believing herself, and she was sure Jayce didn’t believe it either.

“I don’t get it. I know there were… issues, but this—” His voice got lost somewhere between his throat and mouth. Jayce only knew this much. He only knew what Viktor had told him, and Viktor said only that there were issues.

He didn’t tell Jayce how you had asked him if he was having an affair. How he had outright laughed in your face. How he had said, “That’s rich,” laced with venom. How he had hissed that you should get some help if the first thing you assumed was that. How egocentric you were if you didn’t see the stress he was under, presuming the long hours spent fighting for his—your—future were spent in someone else’s arms. How shitty you were for even suggesting it, after all his past love confessions. How you wouldn’t give him any time. And how you had said a year is a long time—how, within a year, millions of people are born and die, and he had barely touched you twice.

He didn’t tell Jayce how annoyed he was with your half-empty cups leaving pale rings on his wooden furniture. How annoyed he was that you couldn’t even take care of plants, and he had to come back home just to water them; otherwise, he could just spend all his time at work. How your dusty books spilling out of a bookshelf he had bought for you had annoyed him. How utterly pissed off he was when you would open the windows in the summer, letting the scorching heat inside. How it had started to make his skin crawl when you would whine along to the scratched records of Robert Johnson—and how they were scratched because you had no respect for the hardworking needle of your turntable.

And he didn’t tell Jayce how annoying your hair on the bathroom floor was, or how it drove him mad that you would move objects around into illogical spaces, only for your convenience, completely disrespectful of his previous order. How he hated the dusty pink wall you had painted together. And he didn’t tell Jayce how he wanted to slap you, to touch you, to make love to you when he was sad—but he couldn’t, because everything felt overwhelming, and nothing had felt right. And the only certain thing in his life was that when he came back home to water the plants, you would be there—sad, but you would be there—still wanting him, waiting for a moment when he would be ready to come back to you.

And later, he didn’t tell Jayce how he had discovered that the hair on the bathroom floor was, in fact, his, and how stupid he had felt about collecting it and putting it in an envelope, and the envelope in the box, alongside commemorative trinkets that you had left behind.

But once Jayce rushed to his aid, he instantly knew. When he saw Viktor curled up on the couch, holding your scarf in one hand and a crumpled note in the other, gasping for air, crying, he knew.

“Oh, there was more than issues, Jayce. I just… hoped they would finally talk,” Mel sighed. She had given you all the advice she could think of, but Viktor repelled every seductive technique she had sold to you in secrecy under girl’s code.

“You didn’t see him, Mel. He couldn’t breathe, I—”

“I know. I should probably check on her, though. I only got the voicemail, and then Viktor called,” she referred to your sobby message. Mel, I can’t breathe. I left, and I feel like I’ve died. After that, your phone was off—for a week. Utterly neurotic and dramatic.

But your undoing was relatively peaceful. Numbing, almost. Quiet, save for the constant wail of Sinead O’Connor. And no, not Nothing Compares To You. Drink Before The War.

It felt like being shot through a cannon into space—weightless and hopeless. The infected wound, previously festering, was now being painfully cleaned; remnants of rotten tissue pulled away, sewn up with a crude needle, leaving an empty spot under the skin to create an ingrown scar that would always remind you of him.

Your stuff was still in boxes, hanging in limbo between going back and moving forward. The number of times you had written a text, deleted it, written it again, deleted it, written it again, deleted it to write only a “hi,” and deleted that as well. The number of times your hand had hovered over the button and never pressed it. The number of times your feet had carried you to check if the light was on, and the way your heart hurt when it wasn’t. That was your bargaining phase. It lasted three days until it bloomed into depression.

You found yourself warming up the same cup of coffee six times a day. And you drank it from your least favourite cup. You were making food that you ended up not eating after all. You were confessing your sins to objects around the apartment. A lot of tears, very few showers, hair greasy for weeks.

Until, one day, you woke up with complete clarity—that when your eyes opened, you would find yourself in your own apartment, not Viktor’s. With a certainty that, beside you, your bed would be empty. And it would no longer be a shock that struck you like a slap. And you would no longer wake up from a dream in which you talked to him and be confused that he wasn’t there by your side. The derealisation would leave you, to settle in the grimmest phase of grief—bitter, heart-wrenching acceptance.

The last time you had tried to call him was three months ago. Barely two weeks after meeting Paul. Only to sigh and discover you were still blocked. There was one more time when you tried sending an email, but you cringed at the thought. How utterly crude, sending an email to his work mailbox. How utterly impersonal, how disrespectful.

And you thought you had been cured. That the only side effect of your three-year affliction would be an everlasting discomfort. The rest of it was something you had refused to touch. And now it had touched you. It had touched you through Viktor’s sad eyes, through his disappointed voice, through his hunch, through the crinkle in his shirt indicating that he debated whether to come to Mel’s birthday until the very last minute. And you were sure he wished he hadn’t come.

“I… I tried, Mel. He doesn’t want to talk to me,” you sigh heavily, an apology written all over your face. But Mel wouldn’t have it.

“Try harder. He was a friend before this. You were. We were all friends, and now Viktor barely says a word to Jayce because he thinks we’re taking sides.” Mel’s inquisitive eyes linger on you, and seeing you flinch at her last words, she adds, “Which we are not. We get it. Just… please.”

“Mel, he blocked me everywhere. For all I know, he’s also changed the locks.” Your voice cracks, and the thought of Paul lingering nearby and possibly hearing every word makes your face hot with shame.

Your friend sighs, her eyes softening. “Alright. Okay, I shouldn’t do this,” she says, glancing around to check if anyone could hear you. She leans in closer and hushes into your ear, “Jayce is meeting him next Friday at noon at the second-hand furniture shop. Viktor asked for help with transport.”

“And I’m supposed to crash their date? You think this will fix things?” You scoff, bewildered. It sounds like a particularly bad plot.

“I’m leaving the decision to you. And if something is stupid but it works, then it wasn’t stupid in the first place,” she states, placing two kisses on your cheeks. “Please don’t be a stranger anymore.”

“That I can do. The other… well, I can try,” you whisper, shielding it from Paul’s ears. Seeing you exchange goodbyes, he walks over and asks if you are ready. When you nod, he takes your hand and leans in to kiss Mel’s cheek. “Happy birthday.” Which also meant, “I know what it’s like to be in the drama and not be part of the drama.”

“My place or yours?” he asks as you walk sluggishly in the still unbearable heat of the night. “Uh… could we do both tonight? I’m… shattered.” What you mean is, “My mind is unsound. I’m afraid I’ll be crying all night, and I don’t want you to see it. I don’t want to make you feel horrible. Please let me be alone.”

Paul pauses momentarily, gives you a heavy sigh, though his tone remains warm. “Don’t you think it’s better to just… move on?”

You take a moment to stare. “Yes, um… that would be ideal. Though not so easy to do.” Your tone is very matter-of-fact since you used up most of your self-control to not shoot back, “You don’t fucking say.”

“Well, are you intending to? At some point at least?” he muses, playing with your fingers, his eyes low, fixed on his shoes.

“Paul, I mean—” you sigh, dropping your hand from his. “If there is a chance I can fix the friendship, I will cling onto it, you know this.” Your arms cross on your chest as you take one step away from him.

“No, I get it—I am friends with my exes,” he smiles, scratching the nape of his neck. “I just don’t think that little guy will make it so easy for you, is all.”

“Please don’t call him that,” you scoff again, growing annoyed and uncomfortable in the corner he’s trying to lure you into. “He is just hurt,” you manage to say, and it is mercy.

“I know what it’s like to break up, you know,” Paul says, having no idea what it was like to break up with Viktor. “And I get that it hurts. All I’m saying is that we only hurt as long as we don’t move on,” says Paul, having no idea how much love can hurt.

You sigh, shaking your head. Your mouth opens and closes into a fake smile as you give him a cold kiss on the cheek and whisper, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”

Only when the door to your apartment slams shut do you allow yourself to breathe again. A couple of shuddering breaths, despite the heat. Cold hands and feet. Viktor’s arm beneath your palm. A millisecond in which it felt familiar to touch him. You feel the burn in your sinuses, and your mouth goes dry. Suddenly, you notice the agonising cold of your stuffy flat.

And when you finally manage to throw yourself into bed with a punched-out gasp, you keep lingering around Viktor. A harrowing thought blights your brain—one that you don’t dare speak aloud; you can only scream it into the void.

And you have no idea that Viktor is thinking about you as well, as he comes undone in someone else’s arms. And he imagines it’s your hands that bring him over the edge. And that it’s your hair he breathes in when he falls asleep. And he has the same harrowing thought that you have, but he doesn’t dare speak it aloud either.

[tetedurfarm]

I know I just have goat fever right now daydreaming, but I would love to hear about your goats. What's their purpose, most annoying trait, anything at all

i am so sorry in advance because i am always brutal when people want animals that i own and they ask me for my opinion. it's a personality flaw. but i need people to understand why animals suck before i say why they are fun lmao

why goat:

my goats are for milk mainly. i have a nigerian dwarf, a mini nubian, a mostly-nigerian 'mini-nubian', and a kinder. their milk is actually really good, all of them, and their production is good for my needs. i expect each to make about half a litre or so a day at peak production this year, going off of numbers from last year. it will be violet's third freshening, and phoebe's second, and they generally increase in production every year for the first three or four years before levelling off. i am not planning to breed hallow unless i find someone with a nigerian buck that they don't mind letting me borrow, cos derek is just way too big for her i fear. turnip will be on her first freshening. i prefer the mini nubians and kinders to the nigerians because they have more ground clearance and bigger teats so it's easier to use a machine on them. hand milking the itty bitty titties isn't awful but i try not to hand milk if possible lol

i do eat kids because i can't sell them, and they are dairy goats so they aren't exactly the meatiest things on the planet, but it's food. i like the taste of wether and doe but buck is stanky.

what i hate about goats:

crime. i know it's the joke but genuinely goats are little shits and your new favourite hobby is now fence the second you put one on your land. literally any sort of weakness in their enclosure they will get through. cannot overstate. if you use electric fence as their primary enclosure (if you want them to mow a weird spot for you or something) they have to be net and they have to hit hard. provided it's grounded right, my net fence with a 1 joule solar charger can hit around 4k max and they will ignore that if they want something on the other side bad enough. however they will usually respect it if they have plenty to eat within the legal zone. you cannot tie a goat because they will strangle themselves trying to eat something outside of their range or slip their collar and do whatever they want.

they will climb on anything they possibly can, including buildings and enclosures. they will also rub on things which is fine sometimes if it's a brush mounted on a pole and bad sometimes when it's your fence. also if they can stick their head through a fance they will do so and if they have horns they will get stuck. sometimes they will get stuck without horns. the issue i have the most with them sticking their heads through fence is they push on it so hard it can warp cattle panel fences and stretch tension ones so i just have to make sure they aren't overly mcfucking everything every now and then.

speaking of horns it is sort of a personal preference on whether or not you do horns. horns look sick af and help them thermoregulate in hotter climates but also horns suck ass and make a lot of things difficult if you are milking them. horns don't always fit into milking stanchions, and i have had enough situations with a bitchy nanny on the stand where if horns were involved i would have been pretty badly injured. they will press them against things because it feels good and again that's fine if it's a post and bad if it's you. my horned goats don't seem to headbutt things like my ram does, and my goats are little so they can't push me over when they press on me, but if they were normal sized goats we'd be having words. trying to medicate horned goats is a pain because i can't just pop them between my thighs unless i want really wicked bruises. i did not want horned goats. the only reason i have two is because one i didn't go deep enough when i was dehorning him, and the other i didn't plan to keep so i didn't bother. there is a nonzero chance i will replacing the horned doe with a daughter this year just because i don't want to deal with it :/

feed-wise they aren't too bad but they are ruminants and have ruminant problems. but you have rabbits and a lot of the same things apply so it's not a huge deal. they need roughage constantly which means if you don't have grass you have to buy hay, and if you can't get it cheap then get fucked. everyone's feeding methods and routine is individual to their needs and herd but mine have free-choice local hay, and i give them a flake or two of alfalfa a day depending on their condition (less in summer when there's grass, more in winter when there isn't.) i give a little grain twice a day; i personally find it less expensive and better and keeping condition on them than just alfalfa, plus it serves as a great incentive to get them all back in the shed when i need. same as the alfalfa, they get less in summer and more in winter, just kinda eyeballed and adjusted as needed to keep condition. the buck and his wether get less grain and their alfalfa is pelleted because it just works a little better with how their feeders are set up. speaking of feeders - goats LOVE standing in feeders and will shit and piss in them and then decide the food is inedible. we screwed 2x4s about six to eight inches over their troughs to prevent this but it makes the horned ones' lives harder so we will need to adjust them. in general goats will not eat food once it touches the ground. it's really fucking annoying because they will waste so much fucking hay that way if you don't have some kind of solid bottom to their feeders. this is An Problem with alfalfa because they ONLY eat the leaves and rarely eat the stems, but the leaves just fall out of normal hay racks and onto the ground. which is lava, obviously. also, they will get addicted to alfalfa and grain. and if you do not give them these things every day they will make your life hell. which is like, fine, if that is part of your feeding plan, but let's just say it took beetlebug over a month of constant screaming before he finally adjusted to his new diet of not being free-fed alfalfa like he was at his old home. he nearly was returned to sender x:

my goats are not huge fans of treats/cookies for some fucking reason and will only eat them if they're apple flavoured. most people do not have this problem.

this is only really a con for me because i also have sheep, but because sheep can't have copper in their mineral i have to bolus my goats a couple of times a year as needed which is a pain in the ass. the fig newton trick does not work because of aforementioned 'we only eat apple cookies' reasons so i have to do it the hard way and it's a rodeo every single time and i hate it. you know they need copper because their fur will get kinda dull and sometimes curly, and they will get what's called a 'fishtail' where they will start going bald on the tip of their tails. it's more a problem for me in winter because we have good copper in the soil, but when there's no grass they need a little help.

goats have soft feet that don't grind down well so you have to trim them which isn't a huge issue but just like, an issue. it's hard on my body particularly so i don't do it as often as i know i should. a trimming stanchion is worth the money. also make sure you get good quality shears because shitty ones will kill your hands.

goats do not suffer in silence and much like cats their definition of suffer is sometimes not actually suffering at all, and is just like....you did not give them alfalfa at Exactly the same time one day so you get to listen to shrieking until you do it. my nursing mamas sleep in a different area that is closer to the house and they will get Real Mad for a couple days the first few times i put them in there at night, and then also every morning if they run out of hay.

if it matters to you, the milk is naturally mostly homogenised and it means if you want to make cream or butter or whatever you have to have a cream separator which are complicated, expensive, and annoying to clean. the milk will separate a little bit on its own, so i guess if you really wanted to you could just skim it every day but you still won't get all of it without a separator.

and lastly, if you keep a buck then you get to deal with Buck Issues™️. famously, bucks stink. my old buck stank all the time, but derek is actually not so bad. outside of horny season he has very little smell but even when he's pissing on himself to appeal to the ladies he isn't nearly as fragrant as orion was. orion you could smell from a mile away. they are also rough on fences and gates for goat reasons but also for horny reasons if there's a doe on the other side. make sure your gates latch Real good. they also need less fat in their diets, can be pushy, and need a companion of some variety or they will get sad. derek lives with beetlebug, who is wethered, and they get along well. some people can keep bachelor groups but it seems to be the exception, and i personally have no need for multiple bucks so i can't give you any firsthand experience.

what i like about goats:

milk milk milk milk milk. it's real good. at least my goats' milk is; not all breeds have tasty milk. to me my goats' milk just tastes like slightly above 2% cows' milk, with a little bit of a grassy or piney taste depending on what they've been eating. mini nubians are nigerian/nubian crosses so their milk is very high in fat and very sweet. kinders are pygmy/nubian crosses so they are a little meatier and the milk is sweet but a little less high in fat.

they are very personable animals and usually will eat out of your hand even if they aren't fan of being pet and cuddled. bottle-raised ones can range from 'dog you can do anything to and likes hanging out with you' to 'trying to climb you constantly and eat your hair' but i have never had that last problem because i don't allow climbing or constant pestering. the worst i've had with a bottle-raised kid was daisy being really like...sexually aggressive towards me and that's why she's in the freezer now. they have big personalities and they are very fun to watch do their little goat thing and there is constant pecking order politics happening to spice things up.

they come in lots of pretty colours and you can mix and match pretty easily to find a breed or cross you really enjoy. like i said, i like the mini nubians and kinders because they are on the smaller side - around 60, 70lbs or so for the does i would guess? and their heads are right at bellybutton range for me who stands 5'8" - bit still have a lot of space between the udder and the ground so they are easy to milk. the nubian in them also helps their teats be a good size and their milk to stay rich.

them being browsers is sort of a blessing and a curse. they are awesome for clearing areas of brush, which is a pro for me who lives in himalayan blackberry hell, but if you want them to mow their lawn they'll only eat grass if there's nothing else. browsing is also why they are so rough on fences and why they tend to eat more shit they shouldn't, they just stuck their head through fence and try whatever they can. the browsing is why i like running sheep with them; the sheep graze and the goats clear.

in conclusion

i know that cons list is huge but i do genuinely like my goats. and i think we all know that i just like animals that make my life objectively worse. i don't know why i'm like this. they do really suck ass sometimes though and i absolutely understand why so many people hate goats. they are absolutely not for everyone. if you drink a lot of milk you are honestly probably better off getting a cow if you want an animal that probably doesn't make you want to pull your hair out at least once a month. if you just want lawnmowers, get sheep. they aren't as personable or friendly usually but they are content to eat grass and shit and don't cause near the amount of crimes.

[merbear25]

Since u didn’t include Love and Mashiro in the last Vizards post came we get how they would react to a fem s/o wearing a really short skirt?

NSFW pls my vizard thirst is too real

I decided to add Shinji and Rose to this because I had ideas for them 💀 Hope you like it! 💜💜

You knew exactly what you were doing when you bought it. A skirt that was a glorified set of underwear was bound to turn their heads. When you were alluring all on your own, how could it not? You were just wrapping their favorite treat in a tempting package.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, established relationship, perversion, groping, cumshot, teasing, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, creampie

Wearing a revealing skirt around them (Love, Mashiro, Shinji, Rose)

Love: Re reading the manga he borrowed from Lisa, he kept a certain page open for a little too long. He stared at the panty shot drawn on the pages. The outfit the girl was wearing was something no typical business woman would be caught dead in, but the fantasy of seeing a stern, seemingly cold-hearted woman get flustered and blush a deep red was more appealing than it ought to have been. 

The more he studied this woman’s curves, the more he saw a resemblance between her figure and yours. That outfit would look better on you was a thought on rerun up until you came up to him. He glanced up at you for a moment before going back to his manga. Only a second had passed before his head snapped back up. There you were in all of your beauty wearing an outfit very similar to what he was just fantasizing you in.

He choked a little on his words, so you helped him out. “I saw you were spending a lot of time staring at that drawing, so I went out and bought something similar.” You perked up and showed it off for him. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

The eager nod and soft “yeah” made you giggle. He was so cute when he got flustered, and your playfulness was only making it more difficult for him.

“Why don’t you take a break from looking at that drawing.” You carefully took the manga from him and put it on the side of the couch. You motioned to sit on his lap, but he stopped you.

“Wait, I just want to touch you right now.” His hands found their way to your waist first, wanting to be spoiled with the choice of wandering up to your chest or your hips. He kneaded at the softest parts of your body, adoring the way you felt and needing to make you feel like the most desired woman on the planet.

When he pulled you closer, he kissed your chest and gripped your ass with an increasing lust. Running his fingers under your panty line, he wasted no time in feeling everything you were keeping hidden. With his fingers sinking into your wettening cunt, you moaned sweetly. Gripping his shoulders, you panted softly as he pumped them into you.

Suddenly, he pulled away. Sitting further back on the couch, he angled his head on top of the headrest. Gently ushering you over, you couldn’t stop the thrill budding inside you.

“Sit on my face.” His breathless request wasn’t something you were going to deny him of.

You rested one of your knees next to his head and eased yourself down. As he breathed in the scent of your arousal, he groaned as his tongue tasted it through the fabric. His hands kept caressing your hips, wandering to your thighs and chest but finding their way back to your backside without fail. 

He tugged at your cotton thong to wedge the soaked cloth between your now swollen pussy lips. Lathering your needy center with his hot tongue and tugging on the strained fabric was leaving you a whimpering mess. The combined friction of the thong and his nose were leaving you restless. Feeling you squirming on his face was becoming too much to bear, but he was desperate to drink up every last drop of bliss you were giving him.

As you rocked back and forth in search of release, he freed himself from his jeans. His moans vibrated against your sensitive skin, while he began fulfilling his own sexual needs. The fast motions of him stroking himself were making the bit of fat on your hips shake slightly. Your silent plea for him to make you cum gave him every reason to give you everything he had. 

Hearing you cry out for him sent him tumbling over the edge after you, leaving hot streams of cum all over himself. His muffled gasps and moans of ecstasy made you rut more roughly against his face to chase the high. 

Easing yourself off of him, the state of both of you sparked even more outfits inspired by his manga.

Mashiro: You waltzed past her without so much as a second thought regarding your attire, so you caught her attention effortlessly. You didn’t need to look back to know she was leaning over to get a better view.

The sway of your hips was done intentionally in hopes of drawing out more of a reaction. However, her eyes were too fixated on your scantily covered bottom to give you what you were specifically after.

“That’s a nice skirt!” Her voice was chipper as usual. “Is it new?” 

You nodded and showed it off a little more for her, doing a seductive twirl that made the fabric fly up even more. The sight of your lacy panties made her lean over so far that she nearly fell out of her chair.

Looking at you all wide-eyed with intense interest to explore, the desire stirring within her came out in an otherwise curious way. Lifting your skirt, she gave herself permission to satisfy her urges. “These are very pretty too.” She hummed as her fingers trailed up and down the wet patch forming between your thighs. “Hmmm…”

“What’s the matter?” The question shook with your uneven breaths.

“They’re in the way though…” Her statement trailed off as she took the liberty of sliding them down your hips. Tossing them to the side, she tugged you gently forward so that you were positioned right above her.

Her tongue darted out against your clit, sending a wave of euphoria over you. The slender fingers you so often imagined in place of your own on lonely nights slid up your hips and squeezed firmly. They held you in place, while the lapping of her tongue left your legs weak. Soft cheerful hums of satisfaction and blissful enjoyment vibrated gently against your sensitive skin. Every moan passing those soft lips of yours were eagerly pushed further, when her tongue trailed along the other, more delicate, pair.

The trembling and panting you were so eagerly giving her had her smiling throughout your orgasm. Her big brown eyes batted up at you with an unmatched adoration. After letting you ride her face through your climax, she gently sucked at your overstimulated clit before pulling away. A thin string of your arousal tethered you to her before she wiped it off with her finger and ran her tongue over it.

“You should wear skirts like this more often.” Her tone was far too pure given what she’d just been doing.

You nodded before dropping to your knees. Your tongues tangled, allowing you to taste your tangy sweet cum still glistening on her pretty face. Her hands clung and clawed at your hips as yours kneaded her chest. Plucking her nipples got her moaning softly against your lips. The heat on your cheeks matched the one between your legs, begging you to go further. 

Listening to your body's desperate pleas for satisfaction, you slipped your hand under her pants to find her own arousal pooling in them. You couldn’t break the lip lock even if you wanted to; each moan and praise she gave you was swallowed greedily as you plunged your fingers into her needy cunt. 

Her trembling hand found its way back between your thighs, feverishly playing with your clit again to lure out more of your sweet sobs. Your shared pants and moans of passion were reaching a fever pitch. As you rutted against each other’s hands, neither one of you stopped until the other was left completely and utterly satisfied.

“L-like I said,” she gasped. “You should wear this more often.” 

You chuckled before planting another more tender kiss on her reddened mouth.

Shinji: A long work day had yet to end, keeping the both of you separated for longer than he would’ve liked. Rubbing his eyes from exhaustion, the familiar sound of your footsteps traveled up the corridor. Cocking an eyebrow at the sight of you, a huff of amusement and a sly smite quickly followed suit. 

What a little tease you were flaunting your body right in front of him, while he was trying to be a diligent and honest captain. 

“Couldn't keep yer’self away I see.” The wink that chased after you could be felt even with your back turned.

“I thought I'd be able to work better with company is all.”

A chuckle came from him. “‘nd what kind a work were ya planning to do wearing somethin’ like that?” He flicked his pen at your attire.

You shrugged, playing coy. “What? This is new and I felt like wearing it.”

He knew you'd never cross his path in something that suggestive without some ulterior motive, but he'd let you have your little moment. He'd be having you begging for him no matter who started this game.

A sigh of relief escaped him as he leaned back in his chair. “That's good to hear. I'm up to my ears in paperwork.”

You could beat him at his own game. Of course, you could! However, as time seemed to drag on that itch you needed to be scratched was getting more unbearable. Lightly biting on the end of your pen wasn’t getting his attention, not even when swirling your tongue around it earned you glance.

“Shinji!” You groaned. “You aren’t even the slightest bit interested?” 

Smiling to himself, he threw you a bone. “Oh, ‘re ya caving already?”

You sat up straight, your flustered expression not even attempting to hide. “I-I’m not caving! I just… I just—” You slumped over the desk in a huff, feeling so sexually frustrated.

He leaned forward with immense self-satisfaction at how easily you got wound up for him. “Ya know all ya have to do is ask.” When you looked at him, that cocky smile you both loathed and adored was beaming back at you.

Grumbling quietly, you swallowed your pride. “Please, captain…” Your eyes hung low from feigned embarrassment, playing the role he wanted you to so damn well. “It’s been too long.” You gripped your already skimpy skirt to flash the wet spot pooling in your panties.

It had been a while since you two were able to be intimate the way you craved, making his usual control slip through his fingers that much faster. When he leaned back in his chair, you took that as an invitation. Sitting in front of him on the desk, you spread your legs at his nod to proceed. The sigh of his own pent-up lust left him without any control of his own.

Seeing you spread for him in that sad excuse for a skirt and your wet patch spreading more over your pussy lips were wearing him down. He nearly allowed himself to give in right there and then, but the look on your face was too darling not to indulge himself.

His fingers caressed you through the soaked cloth, earning himself those heavenly moans he missed so much. You clawed at the desk as his fingertips swirled around that sensitive bundle of nerves. Holding back your moans was in vain because of how much you needed this, needed him. The faint sound of wet fabric squelching was too good for him not to react to. His moans were soft and urged him to find friction for his own release.

Pushing the fabric to the side, he pumped his slender fingers in as he nipped at your inner thigh. The whimpers and begs coming out of you were just what he needed. Planting his face where you needed him most, his tongue worked to make up for lost time together. His other hand gripped his cock and stroked it in rhythm with your hip movements. He moaned into you as you searched for more of him, his hips acting on their own as he craved that sweet release he’d been deprived of.

His tongue piercing hit your clit at the peak of euphoria, causing you to throw yourself back on the wooden desk. He dragged his tongue over you, savoring the lingering jolts of pleasure shaking your body.

“Hope ya don’t think I’m done.” You were already splayed out so perfectly for him, he couldn’t resist taking you like that. He pushed into you without so much as a warning, causing you to yelp. His soft hushes soothed you as his pace started out slow and steady.

It’d been so long since he had you like this, you’d gotten so tight he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Those darling sounds coming from you and the way you looked under him weren’t helping either. He tightly gripped your waist as he pounded into you erratically, his breaths coming out in short gasps.

“Fuck!’ He grunted loudly, while he filled your sweet center to the brim with white hot cream. Coming down from your shared high, he lazily played with your skirt. “Yer gonna have to wear this more often, ya know that right?”

Rose: Fine tuning your favorite instrument with him in the room shouldn’t have been that much of a distraction, but when your soft thighs were on show, there was no hope focusing on anything other than you.

He absentmindedly strummed his guitar, letting the melody climb into a romantic ballad the longer he gazed upon you. Your delicate fingers paying extra care to your second voice with each tuning had him wondering if you knew how beautiful you truly were.

“That’s a lovely song. What inspired it?” Your voice complimented the key perfectly.

“Who else other than my other half?” His eyes fluttered to your concentrated expression. The flattered smile peeking through was all the incentive he needed to continue. “And what was the vision behind your little outfit today?”

“Who other than you?” You smirked at him, crossing your legs so the skirt rode up further. The seam of maroon silk peeked out from underneath. He couldn’t help but feel like a starving man with a piece of the most mouth-watering meat dangling in front of him, just out of reach.

Placing his guitar down, he went over to you. “I think you’ve tuned it enough for today.” Before you could protest against him taking your instrument away, he planted a firm kiss with enough fervor to take your breath away.

His hands slid under your skirt and roughly grabbed your ass. As your lip lock deepened, his fingers played at the sides of those devilishly tempting panties. Gripping them tightly, the force squeezed against your already slick lips. The soft whimper coming from you as a result was like music to his ears, a song that he yearned to further orchestrate.

Slowly, he shimmied them off of you, savoring the way they hugged against your curves. You looked heavenly like this: hot and bothered, ready for him to make you sing your siren’s song. Clenching your lingerie in his fist, he spread your thighs so that the short fabric of your skirt barely covered your soft skin. Your ass hanging out, your pussy dripping with need, your pants growing desperate: a delectable sight that he felt lucky to bear witness to.

Dipping into you, he hung onto each gasp and moan you were willing to give him. Your walls clenched around him from the blissful sensations coursing through your molten core. A shaky, satisfied smile peered down at you, while you gave him a taste of the symphony he’d been thinking about all morning. As he began thrusting, your moans grew louder and needier, fueling his darkening lust for you.

Your damp panties were being squeezed between his hand and the back of your thigh. The sweetened musk mixing with the slight sweat building between you two was clouding his thoughts even more with you and you alone. You were an image worthy of the status of goddess, meant to be worshiped like the gift you were and he was going to do just that.

His movements pushed deeper but kept a steady pace to hit that sweet spot just right. The way you practically sang for him had his head spinning. As your body trembled in signal of your approaching climax, he acted on impulse—bringing your panties to his face to fully engulf himself in every part of you. The lewd sight of him huffing your dirty underwear helped push you over that sought after edge. The sheer intensity of your body cumming along with your sweet scent flooding his senses lured out his own release. 

Such depravity that wasn’t above either of your standards, the mingling scent of sex made you want to pick up more skirts in this one’s likeness.

[bigmoon-is-bigwife]

So Red Faction did manage to get their kill in this week with Coy but the factions NEED to end with in the next week or two. Or at least the killing requirement because it was a bad idea from the start and is blatantly unfair. The idea of requiring kills was never a bad idea but it was just so clearly not thought out and how they went about it was bad. I can understand creative kills in the sense that it wouldn't be that fun to have people just team up and murder some random weaker person to get it over with but I think there could have also been more communication and rules about it. Like lean into the roleplay aspect and trust that people would make it fun and not be cruel about it.

The main problem though, that hasn't been addressed for some reason, is that the Red Faction was doomed from the start by just being newer to a grindy server. Everyone they were meant to kill had weeks to get established and get far ahead and the levels differences on The Realm matter SO much. It's nearly impossible to kill someone who's higher level than you. Not to mention most of the people they chose to be on Red Faction are people who don't play a lot of minecraft and were never going to be that active. When you pair that with the fact they would have to spend hours and hours grinding to even catch up, that's going to be super intimidating and they're just going to give up and not log on. I don't blame the vast majority of them for not wanting to even touch the killing quest, that was an absurd expectation and very daunting.

If it was not for Pili the Red Faction would just die. Like full stop. They were lucky they happened to invite Pili who took up the challenge and was willing to put in the work to fight that uphill battle when no one else was. There is also credit to give to Bad who was one of the only people to immediately see that this was going to be unfair and try and help them out. The newer people they just invited seem more willing to try and help out but there is still that massive disadvantage of being new and the amount of grinding it takes to catch up. So it still falls to Pili and it's starting to bleed into out of character frustration because that is so unfair. It's to the point where I have heard people from every faction agree that it's not fair for Red Faction. I have a feeling Pili is just going to refuse to be the one to do it this week and I don't blame him. I think this is my only real complaint with the server and I love it a lot but I cannot fathom why the admins are not seeing a problem here. I'm hoping some of the other players from other factions start speaking up more about it because I think most of the active players have seen and agreed that the kill thing has too many problems.

[osamucide]

you should know that I ⭐️ annon am the same annon as floras 🐯 annon i am the one obsessed with feaksushi nakajima

i felt like it’s only appropriate i answer this ask with tonight’s thoughts and contemplations because tonight im contemplating and thinking a lot about gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi

gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi who trips and falls into his obsession with you. he really wasn’t looking for anything, much less this. he probably meets you on an assignment, or you happen upon the Agency with an inquiry, whether you’re a civilian or from a neighboring organization—it doesn’t matter, because whatever way it happens, he never expects to be so taken with anyone so intensely, so quickly. it’s generous, really, to even say he’s met you; more like he saw you and was so awestruck that he immediately turned you over for Dazai or Kunikida to deal with so he wouldn’t have to worry about looking like a flustered mess in front of the most beautiful person he thinks he’s ever seen.

gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi wholly avoids you whenever you’re in proximity for business outside of sneaking longing glances at you; no way, he thinks, anyone who carries themselves like you, looks like you, talks like you, would ever go for someone like him. you fill him with a desire he feels all over; he could almost hate it, hate you for it, want to stay far away from it. but when the office empties out at the end of the day, he’s thumbing frantically through files for anything on you—a picture, a middle name, an ability, anything. he can’t pinpoint a sole reason why but he’s utterly hypnotized by you.

it’s by total chance (and thorough combing through the president’s filing cabinet) gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi stumbles upon your address. he snaps the folder closed when he sees it—maybe he can talk himself out of what he already knows he’s going to do—but ultimately, he cracks it back open, studies it, commits it to memory. it’s funny, you’re put up smack in the middle between the Agency and that place that serves really good chazuke. for good measure, he slips the wallet-sized photo identifying you out of the paper clip holding it to your file and tucks it in his pocket.

gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help himself. since your case was resolved earlier this week, he hasn’t seen you in days—he feels deprived of your presence, your beauty, and it would be so wrong to say he’s nabbed your number from a professional setting. better to be subtle, he thinks, and plans for it to be a one time thing: the way he’s standing across the street, watching your lights, skirting your building, hiding on your fire escape, peering up over the windowsill to catch a glimpse of you inside.

needless to say, it’s not a one time thing for gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi to slink by your place every so often; in fact, it quickly goes from only once a week to multiple times until he’s doing it every day, even many times a day—slipping out for lunch, on a late night walk, when he should be running Agency errands. it’s like you’re drawing him in with some sort of magic. when he can’t make it by to watch you from the shadows, he sits at his desk or lays in bed looking at that little picture of you. you look so quietly stunning—so professional, so assured. the desire he feels could easily breed resentment, what with how much he’s convinced himself you’d never even look in his direction under normal circumstances.

gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi can’t help, either, the way he comes to need you so badly without you even knowing. he lays in bed holding your photo with his lip bitten raw between his teeth while he rocks his hips back and forth against a pillow; when he closes his eyes, he pretends it’s you, pretends to hear soft, quiet good boy, Atsushis and other praises he just knows would sound heavenly leaving your lips. when he wraps his fist around his aching cock he pretends it’s your hole he’s fucking—he imagines what your sighs and moans would sound like woven between his own, fully aware that you probably don’t even remember he exists while he twitches and pants your name and spurts cum all over that little picture of your face.

gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi gets grumpy and weird when he hasn’t had a taste of you in too long, which winds up being alarmingly short periods of time. he snaps at his coworkers, finds the strangest excuses for scuttling out of the office—to the point where Kunikida’s irritably comparing his tardiness to Dazai’s, and Dazai’s mockingly (and knowingly) comparing his little outbursts with Kunikida’s. he’s so not himself. he knows it, too—but he can’t stop crouching beneath your window, drinking you in between the tiny gaps in your blinds, palming his dick through his pants while he watches you do the most mundane things—make dinner, sit at your computer, read a book, stretch out on the couch in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear.

gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi holds onto all the little details—the way your shirt rides up when you reach for something in your cabinets, the way you absentmindedly start undoing your belt on your way to the shower, your reactions to whatever you’re watching on television—all of it. he eats up every crumb of you like he’s starving. he’s so desperate for each new piece of you he finds. soon, however, it stops feeling like enough; he needs more of you, and he feels horrible, already having gone through your file and kept your photo and watched you in what you thought was the privacy of your home, but he can’t help it. he can’t resist you.

somewhat reluctantly, gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi hatches plans to break in through your fire escape door and sneak around your place. he already knows your schedule by heart, and his mentor’s taught him enough about lock picking that it won’t be messy; he’ll wait until you’re out on the weekend, or maybe away for work, and satiate his curiosity what he thinks will be for good—this too, of course, he tells himself will be a one time thing. he just needs to be in your space, smell you, feel you—perhaps take one more little something for him to remember you by and then he can be content with the prospect of maybe seeing you around the city sometime.

but it’s not that simple for gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi, of course. no matter how terrible he feels, no matter how much his conscience screams at him that he’s a creep, he’s disgustingly desperate, once he gets a little closer to you he knows there’s no going back. the first time he pokes around, innocently admiring your thoughtfully curated trinkets and spunky magnets on the fridge and houseplants you maybe forget to water sometimes, it’s a given that he comes across your basket of dirty laundry. he wasn’t looking for it, he’d swear up and down, if someone were to ask; like you, like everything, he just found it, and he couldn’t help himself. how is it his fault you’re so perfect, and that he needs more of you like you’re a drug?

gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi lets himself steal things he’s mostly positive you won’t miss too much—a cone of your favorite incense here, a stick of your chapstick there, and eventually the old briefs that always end up forgotten about at the bottom of the basket. he makes his own sick little shrine to you, burning the incense while he thinks of you, putting on your lip balm and imagining you’ve kissed him with it, jerking off with one hand while the other holds your dirty underwear to his nose and he inhales so hungrily he gets dizzy. it makes it all sweeter when he cums, out of breath and sucking oxygen down, surrounded by you, while he keeps that soiled photo close enough by that he makes a mess on it over and over again. oops.

gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi pushes his limits with how much he can take from you without you noticing—he watches you exit your building, sees you off on your way to work (which he’s also swung by a couple times—not that you’d have noticed), and tiptoes up to the sanctuary that is your apartment. he ends up with all sorts of souvenirs: a tiny sample bottle of your signature scent, locks of your hair from at home-trims, another photo of you off your crowded fridge door, a second pair of your underwear to blow his load into. it just gets better and better. but he needs more.

gross pathetic perv stalker!Atsushi thinks he must be crazy, breaking in this late, when he knows you could be back anytime. it’s almost like he wants you to catch him. it all comes back to the fact that he can’t help it; he needs something, anything to keep himself at bay for tonight because your underwear is so saturated with his cum these days that it’s starting to lose your smell. he’ll be quick, he thinks—that is, until he assumes he has time to jerk off facedown in your pillow, humping another pair of your underwear, and he doesn’t hear you closing your front door behind you.

[deminetly]

✶ RATING YOUR DRS ✶

……………………………………………

⋆ hogwarts 7/10 ok so I personally havent even watched harry potter but it seems awesome,, hogwarts is a classic since basically every shifter has a hogwarts dr but who wouldnt wanna learn magic ?! at the same time i also kinda dont get why you would want to shift to a school from all places ALSO CONSIDERING HOW MANY PEOPLE THERE ARE AND HOW MEAN SOME OF THE TEACHERS ARE BUT

⋆ twilight 7/10 i used to LOVE twilight when i was like 12 (confession i was team jacob ,, and lowk still am.. HES HOTTER OK DONT BLAME ME) and i LOVE the vibe,, highly depends on who youre shifting for tho (if its alice then 8/10 shes like wow)

⋆ fame 7/10 ok i keep rating everything 7 but IDK fame is good but i feel like id get bored after like a few shifts (even though i still have a fame dr) but if you know how to spice it up for yourself then good for you!! (bonus points if its set in the 70s-2000s)

⋆ mermaid 8/10 rated it an 8 instead of a 7 because i keep rating everything 7… anyways its cool but again i feel like i would get bored (unless you know how to spice it up AGAIN) i do fw mermaid more because its like magical and you can script in a forbidden fling with a human or something.. (can you tell i have commitment issues) now i want to make a mermaid dr and design my tail omg

⋆ band/music artist 8/10 as most of yall probably know i do have a band dr so how could i rate it anything lower?! anyways i love hearing about peoples band drs (or any drs for that matter but especially bands bc i can get inspo for my own teehee) i think developing everything for that dr can be super fun and putting together your little group and whatnot

⋆ apocalypse 8/10 would probably have rated this much lower if i hadnt seen those aesthetic slideshow games on tiktok where youre packing for and trying to survive an apocalypse BUT i feel like if you scripted in safety and good vibes it could be a lot of fun and now i wanna make a zombie apocalypse dr..

⋆ the backrooms 6/10 you are BOLD for that,, i get creeped out by just watching a tiktok about them (im aware that the backrooms were on my dr ideas post..) it lowkey depends who youre with because shifting there alone would actually be CRAZY..

⋆ better cr 5.5/10 i dont really get the consept of this like if i were to make a better cr i would FIRST OF ALL change basically everything and atp it wouldnt even be a better cr just a good dr ykwim and how do you come back after shifting there and not feel depressed asf😭

⋆ heartbreak high 5.5/10 i feel like not many people have seen this show and also i dont really fw shifting to shows or movies as much as your own creations but i did like the show itself,, i honestly i wouldnt personally shift there since the vibes are like too.. like 2020 and some people are real assholes but you do you it could be super fun id actually love to know about all the drama

⋆ euphoria 6/10 idk why i like euphoria more than heartbreak high they lowkey give me the same vibe but euphoria is like a better version (i literally havent even seen this but i did watch like 2 hours worth of it from tiktok) ANYWAYS most people there are ASSHOLES too and again PERSONALLY WOULDNT WANT TO GO THERE but again would love to hear more about the drama because there must be tons of that

⋆ monster high 9/10 ok so why did i not think of this before i LOVED monster high when i was a child but im lowkey scared of shifting to an animated world idk it feels off.. the vibes and there tho love that for you

⋆ dead poets society 8/10 again personally havent watched it but from what ive heard it seems cool (that with about 200 other movies have been sitting on my watchlist for years but my commitment issues are so bad i cant commit to watching one movie so i will probably never watch it oops) anyways i want to make a secret society dr now

⋆ my little pony 7/10 oh little me would have LOVED this but again i cant with the animated drs ESPECIALLY considering you would be a PONY?? i need to know how this feels or like what.. i love mlp but honestly (tw: opinion) TWILIGHT IS SO ANNOYING I COULD NOTTTT STAND HER ASS (yes i do know id be able to script her out but i like complaining)

[isamariee]

•black lacy panties•

CONTAINS - • 18+ • fem receiving oral • praising • besfriend!geto • soft!geto

you and suguru were always best friends. nothing more, nothing less. often, he spent the night at your house, just normal sleepovers of course. usually there was a lot of tension in the air, slight teasing too, but that never really led to anything. except tonight.

“suguru!” you yell from the bathroom. you forget to grab some clothes to change into after your shower. you called sugurus name because why would you walk out in just a towel to grab your clothes when he was literally sitting on your bed, waiting for you. it might be an awkward interaction.

“yes?” suguru got up from your bed, heading to the bathroom, but stopping at the closed door. “you okay? need anything?”

“uh y-yeah can you hand me my clothes? they should be sitting on my dresser, i forgot to grab them.” you mentally slap your forehead, wishing this didn’t happen because you hated bothering him, but you know he would do anything you asked him to do.

“oh yeah, i’ll get them for you” he smirks, walking over to your dresser and grabbing your change of clothes. he sees the light pink silk pj set, with a pair of black lacy underwear under it. he grabs it too, feeling his pants getting as he imagines you wearing them.

“hurry up! it’s cold and i’m ready to get dressed” you say, wondering what’s taking him so long. he was just grabbing your clothes right? you think for a second, remembering that you put some lacy underwear under the pjs that you were gonna wear. fuck. he didn’t see that, right? maybe he ignored it…

he knocks gently on the door, letting you know that he was coming in. suguru sees you all wrapped up in a little towel, hugging your curves just right, and a little cleavage poking out. this made him get harder, becoming more noticeable through his sweatpants.

“h-here you go.” he hands you the folded clothes. he swallows hard, having to look away from you, so that he doesn’t let his thoughts control his actions.

you grab your clothes from his hands, watching him lean against the bathroom doorframe, crossing his arms and looking around awkwardly, before meeting your eyes again.

“go away suguru. i need to get dressed” you shoo him away with your hand, but all he does is turn around, not moving from where he was. you turn around to get dressed, slipping the towel off your body. suguru can’t help but turn his head around every few seconds, getting a glance at your body, hoping you don’t catch him. “okay you can turn around now. i’m done” you turn around and smile at him, going to brush your hair, brush your teeth, and to put some deodorant on.

“what? why are you still staring at me?” you say to suguru, who smiling and can’t keep his eyes off you. “i can’t help but look at you, you’re so beautiful.” he walks up to you, grabbing your as and grinning at you in the mirror.

you finish freshening up, turning around to look at suguru, who can’t keep his hands off you. he grab your chin gently, his lips meeting yours. you’re shocked by the kiss, he’s never kissed you before.

he lifts you up by the back of your thighs, and puts you on the empty space of the counter by the sink. he kissed you longingly, like he’s been waiting to do this forever. he bites your bottom lip slightly, making you open your mouth a bit, giving him the chance to slip his tongue in and explore your mouth. your hands instinctively move to the back of his head, causing him to groan into the kiss as you caress the back of his neck.

you moan his name softly against his lips. he lifts you up again, carrying you to your bed. he lays you down on the bed, hovering over you. he’s about twice your size, being a whole foot taller than you. you can feel a wet spot forming in your panties, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

———

suguru grabs your thighs and places them over his. he goes down to kiss you again, more lustful this time. he slips his hands under your shirt, his hands cold against your breasts, causing your nipples to harden. his hands go right to your tits, grabbing them so gently, his lips never leaving yours. he rubs his thumbs over your nibbles, making you gasp and moan into his mouth.

he lifts up to slip his sweatpants off, throwing them somewhere on the floor. you can see the whole silhouette of his hard dick under his underwear, your eyes widen a bit at the length you can see.

“fuck baby. you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this.” he slips your shirt off over your head, throwing it to the side. he rubs his big hands all over your tummy and tits. he brings his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking at it softly as he plays with the other.

“mmph. suguru.” you moan, breathlessly. your hands run up to his head, knotting into his long, dark hair. you can feel him smirk as he sucks your nipple, moving on to the other one.

he sits up a bit, tugging at the waistband of your pants, looking up at you for approval. you nod your head and lift your hips up for him. he slides your pj pants off, revealing the lacy black panties.

he spreads your legs more, never breaking eye contact. he rubs your clit through your panties, grinning as he feels the wet spot.

“damn. i haven’t even touched you that much yet, and you’re already getting wet for me” he chuckles a bit, still rubbing your clothed clit.

“please suguru. i need you” you say, desperately. you buck your hips, needing to feel his touch more.

“i would make you wait, but you’re being such a good girl asking for it so nicely.” he smirks and slides your panties off, tossing them away. he leans down so that his face meets right with your hole. he grabs your hips, and he moves his mouth to your throbbing clit.

“fuck- mmph.” the room is filled with your noises. your hands go to sugurus head, pushing it down more and gripping his hair. this makes him go faster with his tongue, switching between tonguing your hole and sucking your clit. he can feel himself start to get harder.

you grip his hair more when he speeds up his pace. you know you’re gonna cum any second, feeling your orgasm forming in the bottom of your stomach.

“suguru. shit- i’m g-gonna cum. please don’t stop.” you wrap your legs around his head, trapping him there. “cmon baby. let go for me. i wanna know how good i make your little pussy feel. cum for me” at those words, you finish right in his mouth. he stays down there for a second, letting you ride off your high on his tongue.”

your throw your head back, being all sensitive now. suguru takes off his underwear. “oh baby. i’m not done yet. j-just stay still a minute for me, okay?” he grabs your hips again, pushing himself into you. you moan loudly from his length ramming into your walls in just the right spots.

he continues to fuck you at a constant speed. “mhm. you’re doing so so good for me. letting me use you to cum” you feel your walls clenching around him as he reaches down for your clit, rubbing it hard with his thumb. his words really do have an effect on you.

“f-fuck. i’m gonna cum” he groans as he feels you finish again, your liquids leaking down, sliding down your ass. this makes him lose it. he pulls out and cums right on your tummy, leaving a mess.

he plops down right next to you on the bed, rubbing your shaking thighs.

“you were such a good girl for me, baby. thank you” he leans in to kiss you once more. “i’ll get you cleaned up okay? stay here, i’ll be back. and then we can watch a movie together” he smiles at you, and he pulls his boxers back up, and goes to the bathroom.

you smile to yourself, knowing this will definitely be a regular thing now.

[wolvndmouth]

okay so who’s gonna write the fic where logan and wade have been together for forever but shit really hits the fan in their universe (they are still fighting against paradox and other baddies along the way) and the two of them find themselves backed into a corner when it comes to not only saving their universe from being pruned again, but to save logan and cure his adamantium poisoning/slowing healing factor

and just when things couldn’t get worse, cable comes back from the future to save wade from the pruning, but he sees wade with logan and is shocked he’s moved on so he’s feeling a whole lotta “wtf he’s mine i still love you lets try this again”

cue logan reminding nathan that he made a choice to leave wade. things got too serious for nate, and he just can’t show up out of nowhere expecting wade to drop everything just for him now that he’s ready to try for real this time

cue nathan reminding logan that not only did he date his dad, but he has sabotaged almost every good relationship in his life. nate thinks its just a matter of time until logan does it again and that he doesn’t want wade to be “just another name lost in the centuries”

then cue wade feeling like shit because he never forgave nathan for leaving and both him and logan don’t have a lot of time to deal with this plus having to find a cure/save the universe

AND THEN cue complicated feelings for all 3 of them while they try to figure this shit out because logan is starting to understand why wade loved nathan and nathan is starting to understand why wade loves logan and wade is starting to catch feelings for nathan again but doesn’t want to put logan through a throuple situation after knowing how the first time went. wade is also still not over nate abandoning him and there isn’t much nate can do to regain trust again

AND THEN AND THEN there’s a big reveal where you find out that wade’s healing factor has begun to slow down as well, and his cancer has started to come back little by little. logan is convinced that in being together for as long as they have, it’s his adamantium that’s making wade sick and he’s thinking about making wade leave their universe with nate so he’d at least have a fighting chance. he doesn’t want to tell wade the real reason why he wants him to go, because he doesn’t want wade to feel sad/less likely to go/guilty about logan dying without him, so he’s starting to act different and is on the verge of wanting to purposefully push wade away to make it easier for the both of them

nate also thinks that it’s logan’s adamantium that is making wade sick again, but he’s been around enough to know that wade will get worse just being apart from logan and he doesn’t think he can do that to wade, even if it meant saving his life. he feels like he’s hurt wade enough and maybe he needs to figure out why he’s even involving himself in all of this before making moves. maybe it would be best that he leaves so no one else has to get hurt or disappointed. maybe wade being sick isn’t something he’s meant to be around for or fix

BUT THEN you have wade, questioning his decades long relationship with logan for the first time in a long time, trying to hang on to the hope that neither one of them are right; that nate is wrong about logan adding their relationship to the tallies of things he destroys and that logan is wrong about nate getting ready to leave cause wade dying is just too serious of a situation to be around for. you have wade, who has always been capable of loving everyone but himself, and is hoping that this time and at the very least, just one of the people he loves love him enough to stay

at some point in all this, none of them know if they’re gonna fuck or fight. or both. so they fight then fuck then fight some more idk dude these old guys are just slutty af in my head

…

so. who’s gonna write it cause i sure as hell can’t 🙃🙃🙃🙃