#and think about something cool too!! understand something about themselves or find something to question themselvs about..

[lifenconcepts]

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

Hm. Just the umbrella term I prefer but perhaps otherkin in the sense of being some strange conceptkin and Divinekin who calls themselves angelkin over being this sensation of life and fate and existence as a whole.. I’m like- life. Just life. Life-kin, can I just say I’m me? I’m everything. Aaaaughehejjd also wolf therian. Beat me over that but also sometimes caninekin and like .. feeling like dogs depending on whatever mood I’m in and copinglink of a borzoi 💯

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? sort of answered it in the above but I love lists. From highest relation to least (I vary quite often, and mostly am okay with being human except for a few rare instances and exceptions): Life and existence as a whole, wolf, a mutt/random canine, and.. some muskrat 😿 I love them but how the hell am I litterally a muskrat- OH AND I HAVE HUMAN PAST LIVES but I’m still confused over them. Like, some random guy with a car who loves the nighttime and was treated like shit, uhh.. about 80s/90s and in his 20s- maybe USA or UK, also USSR but not sure if it’s the same guy. Also a butler or someone of the sorts in another, just having a bunch of various strange jobs (or maybe it’s who I want to be.. idk I always struggle with knowing what’s my subconscious or what’s my soul)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

Hm. Mostly mental shifts or something and the vague feeling of being a wolf but have had tail, ear, paw, and full body shifts. Also wings but they’re like random and in no way related to any identity.

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

Hm. I forget. Aha forgot- auh just being more understanding to those also like me and more connected to nature on an animalistic level and validating myself in my unusual-ness? Also sometimes craving the simple regressive state of being incoherent but understood, of being one with sensations and instincts but perceived by humans.. hehejdkjdhdhd

5/ What do you think of the community?

very nice! Also very sweet! Understanding of plenty, especially tumblr, but others may be more misinformed and rude elsewhere.. anyways just very sweet, good movement if I can call it that, it’s gained popularity definefely and for the better.

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

watching documentaries on canines, documentaries on ussr (don’t ask), forests and nature as an absolute whole (especially woodlands), and dog training videos. Fascinates me. Also being seen as a wolf. I used to go around telling people to call me Wolfy as a kid.

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

nope! Not really, and I find that great :)

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

trust your instinct and this vague feeling of feeling ‘right’ rather than any set of rules or expectations.

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

eueuhsgghhwcomplex question. Next! Aha kidding but like.. I want metal claws, and pretty metal gloves over my hand. Whatever that is. Hm perhaps also a wolf mask? Mm.. I don’t really like gear though, too ‘out there’ for me. I got a tail and paws and ears tho, but REALLY want wings— also kinda fucked up I don’t glow. Would drink glow sticks to glow- aha kidding.. unless-

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

mine specifically? .. evolved from thinking wolves are mad cool then seemingly wanting to be a werewolf then really thinking I could become one (with my varying degrees of wolfness and humanness) then finding splice with being seen as a canine or with one, and turned quickly to ‘yeah I’m a person but being a dog or wolf would be so damn cool’ and searching immensely on caves near me with the idea I would go exploring and find a genie and wish to be a shapeshifter and then live in the forest and convince others I was human then in the privacy of my own presence embrace my instincts and dreams of being a canine and now it’s just. Confusion mixed in with ‘was I faking it??’ feeling and some sense of ‘but i like being human’ even with that same nagging feeling of sometimes just needing to be a dog for a bit to feel content in my skin and maybe it’s something leftover with my soul’s past life that I’ve gotten over or now transformed from being a childhood dream to merely related to the emotional state of freedom and being understood even with my strange behaviours and appearance that likely had been formed through having a nagging sense of not being understood enough even with being genuinely spoilt but trying to convince myself that nobody cared so I could excuse myself if I ever turned to drugs but then just finding ways to love and understand myself and finally realising that I am loved but sometimes my thoughts just aren’t understood because others have different views and then vowing to do my best to understand others and especially folklore creatures even after I- oh, have I went off script a tiny bit? Im wolf enough.

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

oh I’m an addict for answering this, thank you so much for tagging me! But.. I don’t know who to tag.. anyone who sees this! Perhaps @canines-crown ??

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[radiofreesanjak]

Normally I try to speak about something that comes to mind once per day, a small commentary on the ways to the new era. But today the sun is warm, the wind is cool, and the birds sing proudly in the trees above the studio.

I'll instead take a moment today to tell you a story:

I was born in the mines, but I was one of the last people to remember childhood there. It's been a while since Sanjak has become free, and since then I have had the great joy to see children born and raised who have no knowledge of our time underground.

This is a source of great joy, but it is also a rift. They will come to me and they will ask me questions of what it was like when I was their age and I will tell them: I grew up in the mines. Things were different there.

They, too, learn history. They ask questions of the nobility that reveal a lack of understanding for the concept. The hierarchy of blood is foreign to them. To explain it is always an interesting trial with myself: I would deny none who seek knowledge the ability to find it, but to explain them faithfully is a trial against myself. (The noble would say they do not view themselves as better, merely suited for different things. But when the things they are suited to deserve luxury, and the things we are suited to are for the dirt, how is that not an assignment of value? This is not a nuance children foreign to the concept typically understand.)

Teaching the children of the mines is always a process. We tell them of the place we lived for so long, what it was like, the floods, the isolation, the denial of basic sunlight. One year, a group of children took it upon themselves to learn this trial by experience, and I remember holding a young child as they sobbed into my arms telling me of the horrors of the dark. "I know of this, dear." I said. "This is what we fought to save you from."

I do not blame them the curiosity but it is odd to feel such a combination of relief and horror. The children do not know of the mines, and this is the future we fought so hard to see. Because the children do not know but see the way it weighs on us, they sometimes take an empathetic leap in order to understand us better, and in the pain they experience at seeing a fraction of what we had to endure, I find myself drawn to tears about what was taken from me.

There many things to take away from this, I suppose. The first we did was to make it harder for them to access the old mineshafts. The rest I find myself thinking on on days like these, when the sun is warm and mild and the wind blows softly and the old horrors seem a distant nightmare.

[thesuntookgoodcareofme]

Yoohoo I just had a very cool therapy appointment !! Talked about how I am always ashamed when i talk to people because i feel extremely unlikeable even w ppl who are close to me... but maybe the things that I take as signs that "everyone you love hates you" might be. a misinpretation. Because I dont hate people I love just because they aren't perfect I actually love them

[makeitmakesomesense]

The Early Morning

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Day 5: I've merged a lovely request from a lovely friend with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 5th of January, which is 'blind'.

It is just past the middle of the night. You have officially entered the early morning. You find yourself awake. You went to sleep right after your last mission. This is your consequence. 

You don’t try to fight it, instead you roll out of your bed and make your way to get something to drink. Ever since Vision and Wanda have become part of the Avengers, things have been a little different. You’ve all done your best to welcome them to the team, but they have kept to themselves far more than you expected. The changing dynamics have been something to adjust to.

You let yourself enjoy the easy peace of the quiet nighttime. 

You walk to the kitchen and freeze for a second. 

Wanda is sitting at the dining table. Her hair is wet. Her face is ashen and her hands are cupping a hot mug of tea. Her eyes flit wearily to you. 

You hesitate, not sure how to approach. You’ve never spoken to her alone.

‘You okay?’

Wanda turns back to her tea, she doesn’t answer. 

You watch the ends of her hair drip onto the tiled floor. 

You refill the kettle and turn it on. You take a seat next to her. 

Wanda’s wearing a grey sweater. It’s too big for her. The sleeves have ridden up and her forearms are exposed. Goosebumps coat her skin. 

You try again. Something more direct. 

‘Are you cold?’

Wanda’s eyes meet yours and you know that she is. 

The kettle boils and you stand up, your hand touches her shoulder as you pass by. You feel her shudder.

You bring her a new mug. The steam curls promisingly above the liquid. Wanda leans over it. Her hands wrap around the ceramic, even though it must be burning hot. She shudders again and closes her eyes.

You sit next to her with your own mug and think.

Dim light seeps through the large windows and illuminates Wanda’s face. Her eyes have dark shadows under them. You can tell she must not be sleeping. You wonder where Vision is.

As if she can read your thoughts (and you can’t help wondering if she can). Wanda answers your silent question.

‘Viz doesn’t sleep. Not like people do. It’s more... robotic.’

You picture immediately a long cable connecting the android to a computer. You push down the ridiculous image that's probably not so far from the truth. You nod at Wanda silently encouraging her to continue. 

‘At night, he goes offline. Really offline. Missiles could go off and he’d be blind to it.’

You try to understand the subtext of Wanda’s words. There’s a strange suspense to your next question, it is the possibility that she might say yes. 

‘Do you worry about that? About missiles going off?’

Wanda smiles at you. Her head tilts. It could be playful if her eyes weren’t full of pain. 

‘It’s all I worry about.’

You give a half smile back, you know it doesn’t reach your eyes. 

‘I’ve done all my sleeping for tonight.’ You tell her carefully. ‘If you want someone there… someone awake. I was going to watch a movie anyway and I can put on headphones.’

Wanda takes her first sip of the slowly cooling tea. 

‘Thank you.’ She says a moment later, her small smile now weighted with relief.

Wanda follows you back to your room that night. She waits for you to prop some pillows against the headboard and lie back on one side of the bed. She falls readily onto the other side of the mattress. 

She’s not self conscious, not like you’d half expected. 

She sinks into the bed like it’s been calling her for days. You listen to her breathing even out before you put on your headphones.

.

It becomes a routine of sorts. Your new sleep schedule is not nearly as difficult as you expect. You switch your mindless after-dinner screen time with an early nap.

Wanda knocks on your door in the early hours of each morning. You plug in some headphones and watch whatever film you can think of.

Wanda lies beside you. Now that the worst of the sleep deprivation has abated, she is slower to fall asleep. Sometimes you even talk for a few minutes, about the day before or the film you’re planning to watch. 

It’s easy to talk to Wanda, much easier than you ever expected. You try to understand the distance she’s always kept from everyone on the team except Vision.

Each morning, you wait patiently for the inevitable long pause in coversation, for the moment that her eyelids slowly start to close. 

There is something comforting about her steady breathing beside you.

It is too easy to be comfortable. Despite your best efforts, it only takes a week for you to become lulled to near sleep yourself. 

You’re not quite asleep, you’re still following along with the dialogue from the movie. But your mind has drifted and your eyes have closed. 

They fly open at the first feeling of movement beside you. You startle suddenly as you understand your inadvertent mistake. You move backwards unthinkingly and hit your head sharply on the edge of the headboard.

You hiss out and apologise automatically. 

Wanda is still lying in the bed next to you, she has turned to face you. Her head is resting on the pillow. She looks exhausted with a different kind of fatigue. She sits up very carefully, as if her presence is inherently scary.

You don’t know how to explain. That your automatic panic came only from the disorientation of nearly falling asleep by mistake. 

Wanda speaks before you can. Her mouth twists into the same bitter smile that you’ve seen once before. She is watching you rub the sore spot at the back of your head.

‘It’s your amygdala.’ She explains.

‘What?’ You ask unsurely.

‘That’s why you’re afraid.’ 

‘My amygdala.’ You repeat dumbly.

‘Yes. Vision explained it once. It’s what makes you afraid of me, even if you don’t want to be.’ Her words are rehearsed. They sound calm but you can hear something else simmering behind them. ‘Your amygdala knows the danger that comes with being near me.’

‘And what about Vision’s amygdala?’ You ask sharply, suddenly hating the implications of her words. ‘How does he manage?’

‘It’s synthetic.’ 

‘That’s lucky.’ You comment dryly.

She stares at you seriously. An overwhelming loneliness fills her eyes. 

‘Yes.’ Wanda says quietly, looking down at the bedspread. ‘It is.’

You watch Wanda leave. 

.

You spend the day caught between a wish to apologise and a lingering uncertainty that something else is wrong. Something more complicated than you’d realised.

You seek out Natasha in the end, trusting her advice and needing someone to speak to. You find her as she’s leaving a boardroom after a meeting. She invites you back into the room and you sit together. You start to tell her about Wanda. You try to state the facts. The sleep deprivation. Vision’s words. Her isolation from the team. 

You hope you don’t sound biased, you hope your concern doesn’t seem excessive.

Natasha’s lips twist and you can tell she doesn’t like the details either. She tells you other things, small moments she’s noticed. Their separate meals from the rest of you. His frequent appearances in Wanda’s room without warning. How it's the one thing he can’t seem to learn not to do. A sudden lengthy monologue about the benefits of Stark’s technology, unaware of Wanda stiffened posture beside him.  

You exchange a long look with Natasha, it holds something that you recognise in your bones.

You decide to worry together. 

.

That night you find Wanda before the time she usually comes to your room. It is just past midnight and she is sitting at the dining table. Her dark hair is wet again. 

She startles violently when you call her name. Her shoulders relax immediately as she turns to find you. 

Wanda stands suddenly and moves to the kitchen counter. You watch her refill the kettle and turn it on. She takes out two mugs. She smiles at you again. There’s relief in it. 

‘Good evening.’ She says at last. Her fingers tap out a steady rhythm against the marble countertop. 

She notices you watching and her hand stills suddenly. She stares down at her fingers. Her mouth closes and her jaw ticks. She is lost in thought. You know she is remembering your last encounter.

This time, you speak first. You start slowly.

‘I’m not afraid of you.’ You tell her carefully. 

Wanda doesn’t look up. You watch the familiar bitter smile that makes your gut twist unhappily.

‘Then you are not paying attention.’ She says simply. 

‘I am.’ You counter stubbornly. 

‘We can’t change who we are.’ Her voice is monotone and you can tell that she is quoting someone else. ‘We can’t relinquish the dangers that comes with our power.’

‘But we can always have family.’ Your argument is quiet. ‘We can still have love and care. We can forgive ourselves for who we are.’

Wanda goes very still. After a moment, she reaches for the kettle that has now boiled. You watch her pour the water into the two waiting mugs.

‘Vision -’ She begins at last, looking at you unsurely. ‘It’s hard’

‘What is?’ 

She hands you a mug of tea and you watch her grip her own drink like it’s a life support system. 

‘He would never do the things I’ve done.’ Her voice cracks with barely repressed guilt. ‘It can be hard to not feel alone.’ 

You drink your tea and watch her for a moment. Wanda's breathing is shallow. Her pupils have dilated in the dim light. Her dark eyes are watching you, waiting. 

‘I would’ve.’ You confess softly. ‘If I’d been you. I think I would have done the same things.’

A thousand emotions flit through Wanda's expression. It settles somewhere between fear and longing.

You move forward and place your mug on the countertop, carefully you take Wanda’s from her too. When her hands are free, you hold them gently in your own. 

She grips them tightly. You can feel her shaking. 

‘Do you want to get out of here?’ You offer softly. ‘Just for a few days. We can borrow a car. We can go right now.’

Wanda is so close to you now. You feel the hitch in her breath as you much as you hear it.

Wanda’s expression fills with the same look of longing and she glances outside at the full moon that is brightening the darkest part of the night. 

‘Viz’ll wake up soon.’ She hesitates. ‘He hates it when I leave this place.’

You shake your head. You give her a small smile. ‘Natasha said they’re using his offline time tonight to update some of his old programming. Getting rid of some of the biases that Tony created back when it was only Jarvis.’

You pause. Wanda is looking at you like the world is something new again.

‘We have time.’ You tell her and it feels like a promise. 

Her small smile is full of sudden happiness.

Wanda leans forward and her head rests against your shoulder. There is a weightlessness to her tired relief.

You are grateful that your amygdala is very real. That you can feel this entirely.

‘Okay’ She says finally against your shirt. ‘Do you mind if I sleep while you drive?’

You laugh and wrap your arms around her. The wet ends of her hair drip onto your arms.

You leave the Compound before the sun has risen.

.

.

Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

.

[catboyieejeno]

don't kiss and tell: part 3 ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

other parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

pairings: best friend! mark + best friend! jeno + best friend! hyuck x female! reader summary: maybe you indulged yourself too much. you always knew that if any of you caught feelings, things would get complicated. if you knew, then why did you let it get this far? content: non-idol au, explicit smut, cursing, pet names, angst, foursome with switch! reader, switch! mark, switch but sorta sub! haechan, sorta dom! jeno, unprotected sex (pls be safe), hair pulling, fingering, oral sex (male recieving), creampie, there is plot (please read parts 1 and 2 to fully understand!) wc: 10.2k

masterlist

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

18+ minors do not interact !

!¡

“no.”

“but mark-”

“absolutely not.”

“mark, please.”

“we end up doing this every time.”

“this is the last time, i promise!" you plea, one hand resting on his tense arm, "and if i remember correctly, the last two times we did this, it was your idea!”

with the heaviest and most dramatic of sighs, mark’s shoulders sink down in defeat, head rolling back. the last syllable is dragged out as he complains again, "but we've seen this episode before!"

"yes, but it was so long ago that i don’t even remember what happened, please!" you insist, black remote clutched stubbornly in your hand. when he takes longer than two seconds to conjure a convincing argument, your finger presses the middle play button without missing a beat, just in case the boy next to you decides to protest again.

as revenge, the bowl of buttered popcorn, still warm from being recently made, is snatched off of your lap and clutched between mark's palms as he settles under the blanket.

"alright, fine. but pay attention this time so that you don't start asking questions," he's only half-joking, even when he tilts the bowl away and out of your reach playfully. incapable of really denying you anything, mark notices your puffed out cheeks and snorts, compliantly setting the bowl between your bodies. you're busy rolling your eyes, muttering something under your breath close to the effect of "i don't ask that many questions."

while your right hand reaches in to grab a few pieces and pop them into your mouth, you train your eyes on the tv in mark's room. it's the only source of light in the otherwise dark space, illuminating the sharpest points of your faces in cool-toned hues of blue and purple.

maybe it's because he has already seen this episode and is only re-watching it to appease you—and reinforce your lacking memory of the plot—but mark's dark orbs find themselves troubled with the task of concentrating on the screen. instead, they're fixed on you, swimming over the curves of your features.

he's caught himself thinking about you more often these days: jumping for his phone in hopes that it's your name that appears when he gets a text, or staring at you with no intention of looking away unless there's a chance you may catch his eye. at first, he considered knocking some sense into himself and snapping out of this risky habit he's developed, but how could he do that when the very mention of your name provokes a whirlwind of thoughts?

without tilting his head too much in your direction and giving himself away, mark watches the slow rise and fall of your chest. much like his gaze, his mind is preoccupied with all that is you, disregarding the content on the screen.

he finds his mouth salivating as a quick flash of you hovering above him crosses his mind, suddenly reminding him of the way your weight felt on his face, shaking thighs on either side of his head as his tongue swirled around your folds to savor your taste… thank god, he's under the blankets.

and the sounds you made for him? the sweet sounds you made might very well be responsible for his newfound infatuation. mark catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he tries to remember the way his name slipped off your tongue like velvet-

"mark?"

just like that.

"mark!"

ripped from his daydream and forced to return to reality, mark quickly blinks, eyes snapping to you and widening slightly as he orients himself, "what? sorry i-"

"i asked if this is the guy who was caught with the killer last episode?"

mark gawks at you, a certain amusement or perhaps endearment behind his eyes, be it intentional or not.

it takes him a moment to register your ask because, well, he fully expected you to ask questions because you always ask questions, regardless of what's playing—but for reasons unknown, your little quirk felt particularly familiar today, wholesome even. it's enough to make his heart slightly swell.

"or wait, no! isn't he the one who- why are you looking at me like that?"

he shakes his head softly, unaware of how beguiled he looks, and mutters out "no reason." as his lips press together again, they curve into a little grin.

you raise a brow in confusion, "i know you said not to ask questions, it's just that i wasn't sure if-"

"oh, i don't mind."

as you inspect his face, trying to pick apart what's going on with him, mark's attention starts dwindling once more. why had he never noticed how pretty you are? i mean, he's always thought you were pretty, but something feels so distinctly different now. so, what changed?

for starters, the kiss—no. it wasn't the kiss. he had already doubled back to check if that was the moment that you decided to take a piece of his heart for yourself, and it wasn't. that day, nothing that you did or said solidly implied you might have wanted to be more than friends.

then, there was the time you sat on his face. as exceptional and undeniably revolutionary as that moment was, he wasn't the only one who ate you out, and mark is almost positively sure that he started feeling like this after you deliberately singled him out; something you had done had distinguished him among the other boys and made him feel as though there was a connection between you, more than just the sexual aspects of the bet.

Or, perhaps he's just deluded, searching for any minimal interaction between you that justifies how his ever-waking thought is you. he considered that possibility, also, but it doesn't feel as likely, or at least he sincerely hopes it isn't the case.

so when? when did you make mark lee feel so special that his heart decided to beat wholly for you? it's on the tip of his tongue.

he hasn't uttered a single word in two minutes, despite your burning gaze. "okay, seriously," you sit up, ceasing the playback at once, "what? do i have popcorn in my teeth?"

"no."

"then, what is it?"

baby. that's what it is.

when you called him baby, that's when he started feeling this way.

he's never been keen on pet names, they sounded foreign or misdirected when others would use them on him. but when it came from you? it was heavenly.

ever since you called him that, voice airy and thin as you drowned in the pleasure he gave you, mark had never been the same. moreover, he could not seem to forget a single, minute detail: all three of the boys ate you out, but the only person who you called baby was him.

"why did you call me baby?" he surprises you and himself, the question leaving the safe space of his mind before any consultation is made with his better judgement.

your eyes flicker between his, "what?"

"you called me baby."

quick to object, you lean back, "no i didn't. when?"

"not right now," he shakes his head, "but that day... the day you, uhm- sat on my-"

"oh." in the wake of your realization, your heart begins to wildly leap in your chest.

it's impossible to forget the events of the game night; in fact, any time you're in the same room as any of the boys, you can't help but think of it and wonder if they do, too. often times, the memories follow you even in their absence, at moments where you're alone and randomly dwelling over your exchange with mark.

the two of you cuddling while you were fully naked and in still your post-orgasmic bliss, right before he left to grab you some clothes for the night and offer you his bed, tugging a long a blanket so he could crash on couch for the remainder of the evening...

yes, that exchange. you proceeded to not sleep a wink that night, despite the lingering smell of him on his sweats and sheets that lulled you to comfort.

however, not once since that day had any of you dared to bring it up in conversation, especially as bluntly as mark just had. so, naturally, your cheeks are blossoming, sporting a bright shade of red that is evident even under the tinted blue glow of the tv.

in your shock, you can't tear your eyes away from mark's. you're frozen in place, blinking at him as your brain urges you to spit out any moderately coherent response.

when you finally find your voice, you're a stuttering mess, "well, it's just that, uh- it just felt right, i guess. i mean, why are you asking?"

"because," he pauses, the nerves finally catching up to him, "from the moment that word left your lips, i haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

"mark..."

"please tell me i'm not crazy." he interjects, fearing there's a rejection coming. if he doesn't speak out now, he might never get the chance to, so he continues, using every last bit of courage he has, "i really, really like you," his voice cracks slightly, "but, if you can look at me and tell me that you don't think about me the way i think about you, i'll never bring it up again. we can forget this all happened,"

you've been staring at him the entire time but somehow, you failed to notice the way he had inched closer at some point during his confession. when you don't pull away or immediately refuse his feelings, he starts to lean in, letting his eyes freely travel down to your lips. very carefully, he reaches up to hold your face, wary that a single wrong move could rob him of the virtue that is tasting your lips again.

little does he know that not one single fiber of your being intends to interject or stop him. when your eyes flutter closed, giving him silent permission, he presses his mouth to yours gently.

god, if you thought the first kiss you shared with him was slow and torturous, nothing could have prepared you for this one.

tenderly and gingerly, mark moves his mouth against yours, finally free of any distractions or time constraints. his fingers disappear into your hairline as he rotates his head to revel in the feeling of your warm, plump lips finally grazing his.

with no hesitation, you reciprocate his affection, sinking into the warmth of his touch. it's as exhilarating as ever to kiss him, even with the slight awkwardness that radiates off of both of you.

at first, he's modest about using his tongue, but it soon swipes against you a few too many times, pleading for entry. his eagerness becomes increasingly evident when he delivers a slight but sharp tug at your hair that causes your lips to part and his tongue to freely swipe at yours.

fuck, everything he does is so hot, and you're suddenly bursting with the need to get closer to him in any way possible.

without breaking the kiss, you reach to move the popcorn to the bedside table behind you, hoping it doesn't fall although you can't be bothered to care if it does. slowly, you move to straddle him, the skin at your waist heating up under the contact of his guiding hands that place you right over his lap.

by now, there's a growing arousal between your legs, made so much more apparent when his hardened cock brushes against your cunt and you feel how cold your wetness is, pressed flush against you. it doesn't help that he's feeding breathy whimpers into your mouth.

unintentionally, you whine out the pet name in return, and he pulls away for the first time, checking if he heard you correctly. baby: four letters and he instantly feels his heart rattle against his ribs.

"holy shit, say it again."

"fuck, baby, please."

"please what?" his eyes stare into yours—deeply, attentively, like an unbreakable trance—he's hanging on your every word, disposable to fill any demand.

with a soft batting of your eyes, you mutter, “kiss me,”

he doesn't need you to ask twice; a guttural growl leaves his throat and mark dives back in to capture your lips, bucking up to rub his erection into you. with a seemingly insatiable hunger, your hands start busily exploring his chest and shoulders, clawing at his shirt running through his hair, grabbing everything you can reach. your fingers slide up from the expanse of his shoulders to his locks, where they settle, allowing you to pull him even closer.

in this moment, mark is thinking about absolutely nothing and everything all at once. turns out, he didn’t imagine your affection, it was really there the entire time. his mind is racing; he thinks about how the swell of your breasts feel against pressed against his chest, how your tongue licks his teeth and wets his lips, meanwhile you're grinding yourself down to feel more of him— sure, you two were already on the same page about one thing, but there’s still an issue at hand, an issue that won't leave his mind even with all the wonderful things distracting it.

when the air is beginning to run short in his lungs, he pulls away again, chest heaving. leaving his forehead pressed to yours, he mumbles out a question that makes you instantly dizzy.

"do you wanna do this?"

you quickly nod, but the weight of his question isn’t clear.

"no, like, do you want to do this,” he emphasizes what he means with an index finger that points between you and his implication clicks. the sigh the breezes past your lips makes his shoulder’s immediately tense up. mark fears he may have completely ruined the moment. that is, until you answer.

"i think so," you nod slowly, taking him by surprise. a small smile sits on your lips, thumb coming up to swipe his cheekbone affectionately. he leans into your touch as you continue, "we can talk about-"

"-no, because there's no way that you actually think the earth is flat." distantly, a set of voices are heard, along with the sound of the apartment door closing. the first belongs to jeno, obvious despite the way it's muffled.

"i'm just saying, bro, there's a possibility."

"you're actually an idiot, donghyuck, oh my god," their footsteps are rapidly approaching, heading straight towards you.

"watch, i bet you mark agrees that-"

you and mark don't have time to scramble off of each other before his bedroom door swings opens with a thud. simultaneously, you both turn to face the boys who skid their heels to a stop, taking in the scene before them.

hyuck's eyes widen, but he masks his shock by simply striding inside and letting his hands sit at his hips, "woah, what did we just interrupt?" his tone is mocking and accusatory, and jeno rolls his eyes.

"oh, we were just-" you finish climbing off of mark, nervously brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

the boy looks between the two of you and the tv, nodding in understanding, "netflix and chilling?'"

jeno shakes his head, "i don't think they got to the chilling part, hyuck."

"then it looks like we got here just in time. got room for two more?" he scoffs playfully, wiggling his eyebrows at his own lewd comment that more than likely, isn't a joke. at your silence, the youngest boy sits at the edge of the bed, ready to state his case.

"i know how that sounds," he sputters quickly before you or mark can object, "but seriously, think about it: it’ll be full circle! we started with the kiss, then i proved i'm the best at head, and now we can- ow!"

you've lost count of the amount of times jeno has had to smack him over the head recently. "what hyuck is trying to say," he explains, "is that he's a horny fuck who can't keep it in his pants. come on, bro,"

mark snorts, slightly amused at the situation. he can tell you're a little flustered from being caught, even more from being proposed such an offer. he knows hyuck can be quite relentless.

the boy in question shrugs off the hand that jeno placed on his shoulder to pull him away, stubbornly whining out, "you're telling me you're not even a little bit curious about what it's like to fuck all of us at once? think about it, princess. we'll be at your disposal, again."

no because when you put it like that...

fuck, fuck, fuck.

how do you always find yourself back in the same situation? in fact, why are you even considering this?

your first instinct is to turn around and look at mark, since you're not entirely convinced that after tonight's confession he'll be jumping at the chance to share you. the two of you are stuck between friends and something more, as a result of the boys interrupting before you could continue your conversation. still, there's no denying what you feel for him.

it's not any less true that your panties are soaked and ruined at the mere idea of having all of them in palm of your hand, competing to pleasure you for the third time. even so, your decision remains an easy one: if mark isn't okay with this, then you aren't either.

you want to prove to him that you're serious about him, not blatantly disregard him and agree to hook up with his friends right after he told you about his feelings.

when your eyes land on him, however, whatever resistance you're expecting to see is nowhere to be found. mark's slumped posture implies he's completely relaxed, and he's looking back at you through a low-lidded gaze.

“what do you think?” you ask him timidly.

“is this something you wanna do?” he no longer refrains from touching you in front of the boys, letting his hand reassuringly slide under your shirt and the tips of his fingers rub circles on your lower back.

shuddering under his touch, you blink, “is it alright with you?”

the fact that you’re even checking with him reinforces that you really do like him. it boosts his ego, gives him a certain sense of ownership over you. now, he knows that if he told you he wanted you all for himself, you'd be his without a second thought.

surprisingly, there's a lack of jealousy bubbling in his chest; the idea of you bouncing on his best friends' dicks doesn't bother him. if anything, it pushes him to fuck you even better.

if they can make you moan, he'll make you scream.

"if you want to, i don't mind doing this one more time," his lips curl up to small smile, "but it's the last time."

when you turn back around, hyuck can't seem to contain his bubbling excitement. laughter rumbles in his chest, a devious expression taking over his features.

even jeno, who originally wasn't as persistent with the idea, is taking long steps over so that he can quickly come up to stand beside where you sit. it's not in his nature to overstep boundaries or even push them, and you've noticed he always seems more apprehensive when things escalated to this point. weirdly though, despite his initial shyness, he always seems to surprise you.

unlike mark and hyuck, he wears a bit of a nervous smile, but you can still see the outline of him in his pants where he grows harder and harder.

you shake your head, laughing breathlessly, "you're all crazy."

"maybe. but if that pussy feels half as good as it tastes..." hyuck trails off, licking his lips, "what do you say, princess?" he leans closer until he's slightly hovering above you, propping himself up on his hands. he's not shy about the way he gawks at your lips with unfaltering focus, waiting for them to mold and utter a yes.

so you give him exactly what he wants.

between your legs, your clit throbs, and you don't know it, but the innocent, doe-like look in your eyes makes the precum leak angrily from his tip.

the word has barely left your lips before hyuck leans in, pressing his lips to yours roughly. the first thing you notice is that it's so different from your recent kiss with mark. hyuck has always been greedy with his affection, that much you know, but it's made painfully obvious in the way he kisses you now—it's like he's in a frenzy, edged on by how hard you make him, furiously turned on and desperate to sink himself in your folds.

you were so busy molding your mouth into his that you almost missed the sensation of all their hands on your body, each with a different placement and intention. one of hyuck's hands made its way between your legs, palm pressing into your clit while the other grabbed his own erection to grope it over his jeans.

on your left, jeno comes in, rolling your shirt up so that your boobs are exposed, nipples boldening when the cool breeze hits them. his thumbs flick the buds distractedly.

mark groans quietly from behind you, squeezing the skin on your ass and thighs between his fingers before running his hands up and down your spine. he sits up to remove your shirt.

you and hyuck break the kiss for a moment as the material comes up and over your head, and he takes the opportunity to remove his own shirt, but before he can dive back into the sanction of your lips, jeno's grip on your throat turns you to him.

he lets his mouth brush over yours, a thumb tugging your jaw down. you're practically panting in his face, and you may have otherwise been embarrassed if he didn't look to be so absorbed.

"i'll try to be gentle, but every time we end up back here," his breath is hot, "i get the urge to ruin you."

indeed it seems that he plans to surprise you this time around, too.

there is such intense fervor and impatience burning though your veins right now, and his provocative words aren't helping. you want to be devoured right now, to have your clothes ripped off so that you can be used.

he casts his gaze all over your features, "speak up. what's running through that pretty little head of yours?"

you speak with the absence of shame, letting the need drip off your lips, "i want you to make me feel good,"

"you're so fucking hot, fuck," he praises, voice resembling a growl. an involuntary whine escapes your throat, perhaps out of frustration because he's still teasing you with a kiss, or maybe pleasure, since hyuck's hand is still rubbing into your core, setting you aflame with want.

or, it's could very well be because behind you, mark's hot tongue has started sliding across your skin, over your shoulder and into that sweet spot where your collarbone meets your neck.

"alright," mark breathes the words into your skin, pulling you slightly toward him, "i go first."

hyuck is quick to object, getting up on his knees, "why should you get to go first?"

"i don't know if you recall," the clanking of his belt being unbuckled makes you drool, "but you two interrupted us,"

"wait," you insist. mark looks at you expectantly, pausing his movements, "let me,"

something about the way his eyes flutter, softening as he watches your fingers inch closer to the waist band of his pants, drives you absolutely mad. it tugs at your heartstrings to see his cheeks so flushed, his features suggesting that he's both taken aback and contented by your sudden initiative.

you're basically crawling over to him now, lowering your face so that you're eye-level with his crotch and your ass is up in the air—don't worry, this new position doesn't go unnoticed by the other boys.

while you busy yourself tugging down his jeans so that they're looped around his upper thighs, jeno mirrors your actions. in less than two seconds, your shorts are slipped down and pooling where your knees meet the mattress, leaving you in only your panties.

when haechan reaches to slide it off, jeno's blocks him, "not yet. look at this," a single finger prods you, swiping down the tiny piece of fabric that covers your folds. he's pointing out the blotch of wetness to the other boy, a darker shade than the rest of the material around it.

mark's eyes are set on you, unmoving, watching the way your comparatively small hand wraps around the shape of him. he had made you feel so good last time, and because you were unable to return the favor then, you felt the need to impress him now—you wanted to see his eyes roll back as he came down your throat.

in an effort to tease him just a bit, your tongue darts out, licking a stripe across the outline of him over the black boxers he's wearing. his pouty lips form an 'o', right hand brushing your hair from your eyes.

"quit teasing and take this off for me, baby."

obediently, the tips of your fingers hook his waistband and pull it down, letting his hardened length spring free. your eyes widen slightly, meeting his, and the first thing you notice is that all of him is pretty. tussled hair, soft eyes, hollowed cheeks that suck in a breath, pink tip that glistens with silky pre-cum.

you waste no time, letting your lips slide against him, tongue collecting every drop of his arousal. as soon as your hand wraps around his base, he lets out a hiss through his teeth.

as much as you'd like to keep your focus, it proves to be slightly difficult, considering the way jeno's fingers are rubbing you, still refusing to discard the last piece of clothing that remains covering you. he's simply spreading your wetness, getting off on the fact that you're so aroused and barely anything has happened yet.

"you like that?" hyuck asks you.

you can only hum, lips wrapped around mark's slit. he hisses again, bucking up at how sensitive he is while your sounds vibrate against him.

"we should prep her," jeno thinks out loud. you clench around nothing at the thought, "how else is she gonna be able to take all three of us?"

"let me take her panties off,"

"no," he simply tugs them to the side, exposing your slit.

hyuck huffs with exasperation, "why?"

"don't you wanna watch her panties get ruined?"

from the silence, you can only assume that he's been convinced. before you know it, one of jeno's long digits is pushing into your entrance. you lift off of mark with a pop, letting out a soft moan.

it's been months since you've had sex, so you're grateful that they've decided to ease you in. you don't know how you would've handled the burning stretch otherwise, especially now that you've seen mark's impressive size.

jeno pumps in and out of you slowly, watching the way his finger becomes coated with your juices. you cry out as he adds another finger, then another.

returning to the task at hand, you replace the thumb rubbing mark's head with your mouth, sinking down as far as you can until he's disappeared past your lips.

"oh, yes, baby, just like that. your throat feels so good," he whimpers, slurring over his words. he didn't know if he was better off grabbing a fistful of the sheets or of your hair so he greedily settles for both. gathering all of your hair with his right hand, mark tugs you up.

when you gasp loudly, he gently coos at you, "breathe, baby. remember to breathe."

you nod, although you're not sure you properly processed the information. the feeling of jeno's three fingers curling in your core and hitting so deep inside of you have your mind a bit preoccupied. mindlessly, your eyes flutter closed.

"look at me, pretty baby."

with a hum, you oblige, blinking at him. your face is pinched in pleasure, your orgasm approaching quickly, but you're determined to pleasure him. you take his cock in your mouth again, cheeks hollowed as you bob up and down, taking care to swirl your tongue long the bottom of his shaft.

"ohh-aah."

you pop up for air once and mark thinks he might get a break, a second to admire the string of saliva that connects his tip and your lips, but you don't give him that liberty, quickly sucking him off again.

it's his turn to gasp now, a low groan rumbling in his throat. when his eyes close, you stop your movements, breathlessly retorting, "look at me, baby" just as he had said to you moments ago.

what were you doing to him...

mark smirks, tongue pressing into his cheek. he only manages to uphold this amused expression for a second, because when your nose bumps against his base again makes his teeth clamp down on his lip.

and when you swallow around him-

he quickly pulls you up by your hair, "don't do that again or i'm gonna come,"

"but baby, i want you to come-"

"no." mark pants, "i wanna be inside of you before i come."

your hand is still pumping him, subconsciously matching the pace jeno has sets with his fingers in your cunt. there's a wet squelching sound from between your legs, and your thighs beginning to shake.

jeno curses, landing a slap on your ass, "fuck, i feel you clenching around my fingers, you're so tight."

what sends you over the edge is a perfect combination of a few different things: jeno maintaining his speed, knuckle deep in you, hyuck taking his thumb to rub circles on your clit, and mark, even when dazed from the way you we're just pleasing with your mouth, holding your face in his hand, a string of encouragements and praises leaving his lips.

"come, baby, please. i wanna see your face as you come."

"oh, shit, shit, shit-i'm-" the pressure in your stomach snaps and cuts you off. your hips instinctively begin to roll back desperately until you're basically grinding yourself into the boys' fingers. for a moment, you cant make any sound, just letting out labored breaths in the midst of your blinding bliss.

but, as you start to come down, you realize the boys haven't let up, and you finally find your voice when the pleasure slips into overstimulation, leaving you a fidgeting, whining mess, clawing at mark's shirt for any way to ground yourself.

he takes your hands into his, admiring the sight of you overwhelmed so early into the night.

jeno draws his fingers back, instantly bringing them to his mouth where he sucks them clean.

"she's ready for you," hyuck smirks, "and you were right," he turns to jeno, gesturing at your underwear and the enlarged stain that keeps spreading as your juices continue slipping out. he uses both hands to spread your ass cheeks, "this was a sight worth waiting for."

mark slides off the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt off in the process. he doesn't bother fully taking off his pants or underwear.

"c'mere"

you scoot closer, bringing your legs together so he can slide your shorts up and toss them aside. then, with no hesitation, mark spreads your legs with both hands, hungrily taking in the sight of your wet and slick core.

there are so many nerves bubbling in your stomach right now. with the way he's staring at your figure, you swear you're about to burst into flames. the tiniest details of his being are absolutely the most mind-blowing. there's a single drop of sweat sliding tentatively down his long torso, lean and defined. his chest keeps rising and falling quickly, and you can tell from the way he looks you up and down that he, just like you, is trying to soak up every last detail of how you look.

he thrusts into his hand a few times before guiding his tip towards your folds where he slides himself between your lips, poking at your bundle of nerves time and time again. he rubs himself into you, teasing incessantly until your back arches and pleads are falling from your mouth.

"please, mark, please.."

he sucks his teeth, "please what?"

"i wanna feel you,"

and he complies, cause he's so lenient when it comes to you. he gives you a small nod that tells you he's satisfied with your response, then slips just the tip in. you had started to moan out but as soon as he pulled himself back, you end up whimpering instead.

"shh, baby, i know, i know," he bends down to kiss the corner of your mouth as your eyes close, pushing himself in again slowly, "i don't wanna hurt you."

after a few more patient thrusts, he bottoms out inside of you. your stomach tightens at the feeling of being full of him, deliciously stretched out and warm.

when you blink your eyes open, you notice that beside you, hyuck has pulled off his jeans and is kneeling in his underwear with his dick out, rubbing himself and spreading his leaked pre-cum over his swollen tip. he's clearly frustrated, cheeks red and bottom lip puffy from biting at it.

jeno hasn't taken his length out yet, but you can't imagine it would take him much longer. the tent in his pants, constrained by the black denim of his jeans, must be killing him.

you reach out to help hyuck and the boy shudders before you've even grasped him in your palm. he's sensitive, crying out quietly for you to give him more. for a second, you consider laughing, the peculiar sounds taking you aback.

hyuck who's normally a smart-mouthed menace is suddenly begging for you to please him?

irony aside, you happily adhere to his pleas, spitting in your hand so that it's easier to slide up and down his length. he’s a mess by the fourth or fifth stroke, leaning his weight back on his palms as he struggles to not blow his load yet, especially with the way jeno squishes and plays with your boobs.

he’s for sure a boob guy, constantly fondling them and tugging on your nipples until you wince. you suspected it since the last time, but it’s rather obvious now.

hyuck is intently watching everything, practically thrusting into you to increase the friction.

between your legs, mark rocks his hips a little harder, enough to graze a spot inside you already so sensitive from jeno’s fingers. you sigh out, reaching for him with your free hand to pull him closer.

when he fucks into your spot again, you clench, making his movements buffer momentarily. “oh, my god.” he sighs out, gripping your waist tightly.

“you’re so deep,” you're drinking up every last moan from him, hyuck, and jeno, the last to unbutton his pants. he releases his dick from the white boxers brief's and as the air hits it, his head falls back. you don’t refrain from marveling at the sight.

as mark moves to push down on your lower stomach, your eyes roll back.

"mark, baby, fuck," truthfully, mark doesn't know what he did in a past life to deserve this. you're sucking him in so tightly, your walls gripping him with no intention to let go. under his palm, he can feel where the head of his cock hits inside you. the layer of sweat on your face makes you look like you're glowing, and your soft hair is fanned out around your face, like that of a halo.

"yeah, you like that?"

you nod breathlessly, breasts bouncing up and down as he pounds into you. the hand that wraps around hyuck’s dick begins to lack consistency as you lose yourself in the feeling of mark in you. desperately, hyuck rushes to place his hand over yours and guide you up and down.

there's a coil about to break within you, your second orgasm hurling toward you with no plan to stop.

you're foggy, dizzy—the only thought in your mind is how intense the ecstasy is, how good you feel in this moment. your walls squeeze tighter and tighter until you announce:

“oh, i'm gonna come-"

"baby," he slows down, speaking softly "not yet."

"what?" you lean up, lids snapping open, "why?" your orgasm is ripped away from you as he pulls out, leaving you writhing and empty. you're left fluttering around nothing, yearning for release.

"i don't wanna tire you out before they have their turn," he looks to jeno and hyuck.

in disbelief, you pout, pulling him closer by his forearms, "but i wanted you to-"

"i will," he kisses you, momentarily calming your mangled cries, "believe me, baby, I wanna come with you. let's let them have a go, yeah?"

you shakily nod, still mourning the feeling of having him filling you up. nonetheless, in an effort to be good for him, you sit up and turn to hyuck, who's been edging himself for the last few minutes.

"fucking finally," he groans, realizing that your gaze trailing down to his cock, tells him it's his turn.

wasting no time, he scoots up to lay down on the bed and up you go to follow him, crawling over so that you're straddling his lap, only a few inches above his throbbing erection.

he urges you to come down and jeno tsks, shaking his head, "both of you are so impatient."

your entrance is already so wet that when your fingers direct his tip there, you’re able to sink right down, both of your heads rolling back at the relief.

"i want you to ride me," hyuck sighs out, gripping your hips to roll you against him. knowing that it would only heighten the experience, you reach for jeno's shoulder, bringing him closer. he's quick to reciprocate, pressing his lips to yours as his hand holds the back of your head. at first, he only rests it there, but as your hips roll faster and the moans start resonating in your throat, he pulls on the strands he grips.

"is this okay?" he murmurs, giving another test tug.

"yes," you breathe out quickly, nodding, "yes, jeno."

you hold yourself up on hyuck's bare chest, nails digging into his skin. he's especially deep inside of you because you're sitting on his lap and every sway of your hips provides your clit with friction as it rubs against his pelvis.

progressively, his and your moans get louder as both of you get sloppier. jeno busies himself by mercilessly fisting your hair, studying the way he can make you gasp out and wince.

mark is droopy-eyed, leaning in to kiss your shoulder blade.

“yes, ride me just like that. fuck, i think you’re close cause you’re-“

“i am close,” you confirm, jaw slack.

“use me, princess. keep using me until you come all over me,”

god, you want to, but the burn in your thighs is becoming unbearable. you slightly whimper “i can’t,” and hyuck starts with pleading with you, begging you to keep going.

“m’so tired, hyuck,”

you’re starting to sweat, legs weakening with every time you try to urge them to move.

hyuck realizes that you are indeed struggling, and he grips your hips tighter.

“it’s okay, i got you,” with an unsteady thrust up, hyuck manages to lift you enough to buck his hips up into you at an impossibly fast pace, chasing his own climax and prepared to deliver yours. within a few seconds, you’re coming again.

jeno tightens the grip on your hair and your high suddenly hits you that much harder—even as you come down, you’re floating, reaching back for mark who whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he drags his lips along your cheek, lazily kissing you.

“oh, shit—i’m gonna-“ hyuck slips out of you, using his hand to stroke himself until he spews his milky white liquid into his stomach, trembling below you.

“do you need a second?” mark wonders, looking over your body that glistens with perspiration. you shake your head, though it’s not very convincing.

“no, i can keep going.”

jeno lightly brushes your hair over your shoulder, his hold on it loosening when your orgasm came to a end. now, he settles for rubbing soothing circles onto your smooth skin.

"i'll be good to you, yeah? i'll take it easy." he assures you, helping you climb off of hyuck who's just barely beginning to regain his composure, dick still twitching where it lays on his stomach.

jeno practically carries you, placing you on the side of the bed that was unoccupied. as mark lightly blows cool air in your face, jeno takes his shirt off, kneeling on the bed so that he's right behind you, your back pressed to his chest. like this, you're sandwiched between both boys, your exhaustion quickly fleeting as you feel their skin against yours.

shaky fingers come up to hold mark's shoulders, and he sweetly kisses you. as you arch your back, you can feel how jeno's hard and potent tip brushes between your folds, teasing your entrance.

even though you're sensitive, you're still dripping with need. your essence is coating your thighs and mark's sheets, and now, jeno's dick, which he slowly seeps in.

you whine into your kiss with mark, breaking apart to lean your head back onto the broad chest against your backside. both pairs of hands are roaming your skin freely, and you're unable to distinguish whose is whose or predict where they'll go next. you settle for savoring every touch and grasp they leave in their wake.

you can tell jeno is reading your body language, interpreting each gasp and reaction you give so that he can speed up when you're ready to take all of him.

"you can go faster," your permission comes out mumbled, but you’re too restless to sit at this speed. he hisses at the way you wiggle around temptingly, walls massaging him. he never thought you’d be so warm and so, so wet. it takes him biting his cheek to not bust right then and there.

bringing a hand down to your ass, he gives you exactly what you want, grunting with each thrust, slamming into you at an angle that makes your breath get caught in your throat.

there are stars swimming on your eyelids from how hard you're squeezing them shut, your hips subconsciously pushing back to meet jeno's with shameless desperation, needing to feel him closer.

everything about the scene is so lewd: the sounds of your skin slapping against each others, the bed creaking rhythmically in accordance with jeno's thrusts, the drops of sweat that slide down his chest and side burns and make him glisten, even in the dim light...

mark begins lowering himself so he can take your nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling and teeth grazing the bud till it darkens and perks up, brings his fingers to your clit to rub you.

your mind is clouded with lust, vision is fuzzy and glazed; it's like something out of a dream. both of your forearms are held behind your back in one of jeno's large hands while the other one wraps around you, holding your neck and tilting your head back so that he can look at you. when he isn't watching your face, admiring the way it contorts in pleasure, he's kissing and sucking the skin on your neck.

and the sounds he makes as he fucks you? otherworldly.

the grunts he's delivering to your ear are delectable and you involuntarily clench around him, yelping out when he sinks his teeth into your shoulder at the way your walls squeeze his cock.

"shit, jeno!" you breathe out when mark lifts his fingers, dipping them into your mouth. when you lick them clean, he places them back where they were, leaving you a shuddering and fidgeting mess. jeno stills his movements, pushing himself as far into you as possible. "oh, god, you're so deep," you mewl.

with a smirk on his face, he slowly starts moving again, spreading your cheeks so he can watch the way his cock sinks into you time and time again, disappearing between your wet folds. just the sight makes him twitch.

"i'm close," he warns, twisting your hair around his wrist and pulling you close to kiss your cheek affectionately. you nod weakly in agreement, leaning into his touch. though you’re unable to utter a single intelligible word in response, a series of quiet whines leave your lips as you sit on the verge of your third orgasm.

"is he fucking you good?"

you nod at mark's question, reaching for his hands again.

"i wanna come on your ass,"

"p-please," your voice must sound no better than pathetic by now.

your stomach churns on cue as mark's speeds up his motion, teasing your throbbing and puffy clit until you find yourself gushing around jeno's dick, walls fluttering from overstimulation. it's well worth all the sensitivity, because you’re coming so hard.

god, and you still have another orgasm awaiting you.

you're suddenly being bent over as jeno puffs and huffs, sliding out of you and working himself until his hot cum covers your ass and back in stripes. he pants loudly, teasing himself until every last drop has been emptied and your covered in his release.

"yup. that was hot. i'll be back, i'm gonna go clean up," hyuck pipes up for the first time in a while, tapping his hand to his stomach to watch how his load sticks to his fingers in webs. he scoots off the bed and leaves, presumably to the bathroom.

"you gonna clean up, too?" mark asks.

jeno shakes his head, still heaving breaths, "nah, not yet." his eyes land on you but mark quickly shakes his head.

"we're gonna wrap it up here, i think," mark explains, holding you up by your waist, "i don't think she can take any more,"

"i can," you stubbornly argue, "mark, you haven't even finished, baby."

between your bodies, his dick is standing as tall as ever, red and inflamed and knocking against your lower stomach. he's undeniably rock hard, and you'll be damned if you don't get to watch the look on his face when he orgasms.

"it's okay. i can take care of it myself. you-"

you lean in to kiss his jaw, cutting his words short. when he stops talking, you bring your lips to his ear, you whisper, "i want you to come inside of me,"

his eyes widen, and you catch the way his cheeks get red when you lean back. his reaction makes your heart beat faster, and you reach to hold his face.

"are you sure?" the shock dwindles into concern again.

"if i was too tired," you peck his lips, "i would tell you. i'm sure that i want this." he grins softly, scooping you up by your thighs to lay you on the bed, diving on top of you and situating himself between your legs. he's still kneeling, and in order to kiss you, he has to lean over, lips landing on yours with so much delicacy that it takes your hand on the back of his head for him to sense that you want more.

your other hand reaches to grab his length, slowly pumping it. as you run it up and down, his breathing changes and he moves to kiss down your chest. effortlessly, mark picks you up again by your hips so that your head is the only part of you still resting on the bed.

you're so filled with desire that you moan even before he touches you. he doesn't make you wait long, though, wasting no time and guiding himself to your entrance, sopping wet and ready for him. as he directs your hips closer, you help tilt his tip down. finally, he's inside of you again with a shiver and the sexiest drawn out groan, stuffing you full.

his jaw tightens instantly at the pressure of you squeezing around him, and when he speaks, it's through gritted teeth, "you're so wet," he moves with caution since you're still hypersensitive, "and after how many times you've been fucked tonight, you're still so fucking tight. shit, i can feel you sucking me in."

slowly but surely, he starts picking up the pace, working you until sweat droplets are sliding down the side of his face.

he's fucking into you so mindfully, making sure that he pulls out enough to see most of his head, then pushing in so far that you're flush against the base of him, jolting up when he hits a spot that's particularly deep.

every time that you cry out his name, his eyes flash up to yours, taking in your fucked out expression. your hair is a mess, makeup running just a bit. all of your features are scrunched up, mouth open and panting, and currently. you're holding a hand over your mouth, the other placed over his where it meets your hip.

damn, he could come at the sight of you like this.

and he does.

he's filling you up in more ways than one now, spilling into your cunt, grip tightening enough to leave bruises along your waist. he realizes in this moment that after today, there's no way he's not pussy-whipped by you.

how could he not be, when you were taking him so well? when you asked him to come inside of you?

he also realizes that you still haven't finished and his thrusts are beginning to stutter. voice strained, mark chokes out, "aah, shit. are you-?"

"just a little more, baby, please," your words are muffled by the hand on your mouth but he gets the message nonetheless, grimacing at the overstimulation of keeping up such a speed now that he's so sensitive. he keeps going, because he has to help his baby ride out her high.

your fingers dig into the sheets as your orgasm hits you, waves of pleasure flushing through your core. your face is red hot, vision blurred, cunt booming with a pleasure so intense, nothing like you've ever felt before. a mix of your wetness and mark's cum is coating his cock now, making a ring at the base of it and spreading all throughout his length. when he'[s sure you're done, he cautiously pulls out, watching as his seed leaks out of you.

"that was-," he pauses—inexplicable, heavenly, incredible, mind-blowing—"there's no word that even comes close."

when you look over, jeno had come a second time, the sticky white substance all over his hand and thighs. he resembled both of you, breathing heavily. you take in the sight of him through your lashes, shoulders are rising and falling, hair sticking to his forehead.

the bedroom door opens about half way, and hyuck pokes his head in, "i could hear all of you from the bathroom on the other side of the apartment. it was impressive, really. oh, and sincerely, i feel envious of your future boyfriend. that dude's gonna luck out." you can feel everyone's eyes on you, face getting red, "i'm gonna knock out. thank you for that, yeah?"

"yeah," you reply, offering a bit of an awkward laugh.

mark kisses your forehead and lips before getting up, pulling his underwear and pants up. he walks over to his drawer to grab a change of clothes for you as jeno gets up, too, dressing himself.

he gives you a nod, "stay here, okay? i'm gonna grab something to clean you up with."

it wasn’t like you really could move anyway, at least not yet. your thighs were burning, and if you tried to get up, your wobbly legs would give out.

as jeno leaves, mark brings over a folded shirt and a pair of boxers for you to wear, setting them on the night stand.

“i’m gonna shower,” you lean up on your elbows, flashing him a tired smile. mark brushes your hair behind your ear, nodding.

“you wanna stay over, pretty?"

"i'd love to."

"good. wait for me, i'll be right back."

when he clicks open the bedroom door to leave, jeno is on the other side. he was about to reach for the handle. as mark shimmies out, the boy walks in, a warm, moist towel clutched in his hand.

you laugh as he shields his eyes, coughing awkwardly. "sorry, uh-is it okay if i-"

"jen, you're acting as if you didn't just fuck me. you've seen me naked twice now."

he lets out a little snicker, casting his eyes over you softly. when you reach for the towel, he shakes his head, "here, let me. can you sit up for me?" you do as he asks and he gets closer, "you have some- let me get that for you," trailing off, jeno holds your face as he gently wipes away the black smudges from your under-eyes.

you're simply looking up at him, but for some reason, when he meets your gaze, his ears go red. he really hopes you don't notice.

in an effort to hide how flustered he is, jeno moves away, going around the bed. you let out a little squeak, shivering when he starts wiping away some of the stickiness from your thighs and ass where he relieved himself earlier. then, he moves to the front, wiping between your legs with hesitance.

"why are you so nervous?"

he instantly tenses up, stilling his eyes on the bed instead of on you, "huh?"

"you're all... shy. i don't know. it just seems like after we do..." you look around, trying to find the right word, "well, this—you're a completely different person."

"oh," he looks like he wants the earth to swallow him, and you slightly pout at his reaction. maybe you shouldn't have said anything.

"you know what, forget i brought it up." you sigh gently, "it's not a bad thing, i swear, it's just... i don't want this to affect our friendship."

"it already has." he mutters defeatedly. as he finishes wiping you off, you take mark's old shirt, throwing it over your head so that you're not completely nude. his statement doesn't slip your mind, though. not at all.

"what? what do you mean?"

"the reason i get nervous," he starts, but it takes him too long to continue and you're interrupting him again, kneeling up and tugging him to sit beside you on the edge of the bed.

"if you didn't wanna do this, you could've said something, jen. i'm sorry if this made you uncomfortable or-"

"no, no. it's not that. like, genuinely, it's so far from that." he laughs lightly, finally finding your eyes. you immediately relax at the sound that rumbles from his chest.

"so, tell me." you shrug.

for a few seconds, jeno tries to organize his thoughts, but his efforts are futile. he can't remember a single time he didn't wish he could tell you what’s been on his mind. in fact, for the last six months, it's been the first thing that's popped into his head when the two of you entered the same room.

fuck, man. no matter how many times he's rehearsed the same speech, it's not any easier—especially not now. you look as pretty as ever, and it doesn't help that he's made you come around his tongue, fingers and cock-

spit it out, jeno.

"i like you."

if you were expecting to feel any bit of relief, think again.

the burden that was meant to be lifted is now immediately heavy on your shoulders, and you're convinced your face has gone entirely pale.

"i've liked for as long as i can remember. and it was easy to ignore at first, until the day we kissed.” his eyes fall to the ground, “for a while, i was so mad at hyuck because i didn't want to put myself through that if i knew i wouldn't be able to have you. b-but even then, i thought ‘i might be able to forget. it was a ten second kiss that was for a bet, you know?’"

oh, god. your heart beats so loud that for a second, you think he'll hear it.

"but then, after the night we were drinking after today... after today, i don't think i’ll ever be able to forget." his hand is paced over yours as he gulps, "i was even gonna ask if you wanted to stay in my room, but i know you and mark are close and i chickened out. i think-" he takes a breath, "i think i'm in lo-"

the door creaks open and mark walks in. saved by the fucking bell. "okay, i've got you some water, a towel, and i brought the sheets so that-"

before you can even open your mouth, jeno gets up awkwardly, slightly disappointed, too. he coughs, cutting mark off. "we'll talk later, yeah?" he walks past him without sparing either of you a second glace, consumed by embarrassment and leaving you to call after him.

"yeah, o-okay." you shout, but he doesn't acknowledge it.

no, no, no. there's absolutely no way that just happened.

guilt bubbles thickly in your throat, burning bitterly as your breathing picks up.

"baby?"

you need to go home. you can’t stay here, that much is obvious. moving to get up, your heels hit the floor and you clumsily stumble, mark reaching with his free hand to hold you up.

"woah," he waits for you to stand steadily, then turns, putting down the things he brought in on the dresser before taking long strides to return over to you. his hands rest on the back of your arms. "you're probably sore, yeah? do you want to- hey, hey." he notices the puddles beginning to pool under your eyes, "what's wrong? does something hurt?"

"no, it's-" you let out a shaky breath, reluctantly meeting his eyes, "it just sucks to be right."

"what are you talking about, babe?"

"stop calling me that." you shake your head. at once, mark's face falls—it absolutely crumbles, and so does your heart.

he mutters your name lowly, leaning so that he's at eye-level with you. with a heavy heart, you brush away his hands, wiggling out of his embrace and moving to grab your clothes that scatter the floor. he doesn't move to stop you, yet.

beyond confused, mark just watches you gather your things; his breath is caught in his throat, meanwhile his brain racks to piece together a single reason or cause for your behavior. he’s drawing blanks, though. everything was going so well.

after a few seconds of standing in the same spot, he speaks up, a hand reaching for your shoulder.

"can we talk about what happened? you just-"

“mark, nothing can happen between us.”

dumbfounded, he reaches out to stop you dead in your tracks this time, "what? why?" his eyes are narrowed, eyebrows pinched.

"it's too complicated,"

"no it's not. i like you, you like me. what's complicated about that? is it because of what we all just did? because i don't care about that, i told you it was okay and i meant it-"

“no, mark you don’t get it—“

“then tell me so that i can understand why-“

"jeno just told me that he had feelings for me!” it didn’t matter that you were whisper-shouting. the words carried enough trouble on their own without needing any volume to make them any clearer or alert the man of the hour, whose room was right down the hall.

you decided to keep his much more serious confession to yourself, the one where he almost professed his love. mark didn't need to know about that. it didn't matter now, anyway.

at your statement, his persistent rambling ceases.

"what?"

"while you were gone, he told me. so nothing can happen between us, and that's that."

he shakes his head in disbelief, tightening his hold around you when you attempt to break away again, "i'll talk to him. i'll explain that you and i are already-"

"no, you won't, and no, we're not, mark. drop it." you escape his grasp which weakens at your harsh proclamation. without a second thought or any elaboration, you’re sliding your shorts up your legs. hurriedly, you begin to travel the room, collecting your phone from the night stand, slipping your shoes on, and putting in your bag your previously discarded clothes and undergarments.

"baby, you're giving up on us before we've even begun,"

fucking damn it.

you halt your packing, turning to glare at him, though there isn’t much anger. it’s hurt that reads instead, reflecting the one in his own stare. "how would you feel if i started going out with jeno?"

"what? so now you wanna go out with jen-"

you roll your eyes, rephrasing. "no. i'm asking: how would you feel if i started going out with jeno?"

begrudgingly, he grumbles, "terrible," under his breath.

"precisely."

maybe you indulged yourself too much. you always knew that if any of you caught feelings, things would get complicated.

jesus, you didn't think it would actually fucking happen.

if you even suspected this was a possibility, why did you let it get this far?

all of your belongings are gathered. your hair is tied back and your keys are in hand. your mind is racing, but there's not much you can do to help that now.

before mark can utter another word, you cast him one last, sad glance, and walk out the door.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

[queer-overwatch]

Hi!! Could I request maybe a Venture x Reader (Any pronouns will do) on like a museum date? I want Venture to yap.Please and Thank you. ( Also bless the both of you I needed more Venture content I was tweaking without them)

Venture at a Museum!

Aaa ty sm for the request!!! I love that idea so much- they are such a yapper I love them <3 also your welcome hehe, had to take thing into our own hands >:3 (also bc u didn't request a specific format (like hcs or oneshot) i just did a short lil oneshot, hope thats okay!) -Frisk

══════ஜ▲ஜ══════

"Look, look- they have a whole section on rocks! Kinda basic selection but it's still rocks!"

You never thought you'd be able to learn so much about rocks in one day, but it seemed like Venture had made it their personal mission to force as much information into your brain as possible. You didn't mind, really! It was always nice listening to them rant about all the cool stuff they found while walking around the museum you'd planned to bring them to, but it was a lot to take in at once.

"Augh, I love sedimentary rocks- they're my favorite! 'cuz sometimes they have like, little fossils in them and I'm like, "Woah! A cool thing in another cool thing!" and it's awesome! One time I found a trilobite fossil in a rock, it was so cool! I wonder if they have any here- that'd be so amazing! I wonder what they taste like-"

After spilling every single fact they could think of about the rocks on display, Venture drags you to a section of the museum dedicated to Egyptian history, though they mostly just seemed interested in the architecture of the pyramids. You really did try to listen, but you mostly just caught the gist of their long, long, long explanations- something about a Mastaba being like a sort of prototype to pyramids? You were just happy to see them so excited, even if you didn't quite understand what they were so hyped about.

"Oh, if only that British lady could go back to ancient Egypt and get the architects of their time to answer my questions! I'd give anything to be able to do that!" Sensing the slight disappointment creeping up on them, you decide to try and bring Venture elsewhere, not wanting them to spend any energy on being upset by what they can't do.

"Why don't we go look at the dinosaur fossils? I'm sure there's some mistakes in the descriptions that you can correct!" You take their hand, gently pulling them away from the long essay-like description of images of the pyramids that they were reading. Incising them with promises of being able to show off their intensive knowledge of dinosaur fossils, or fossils in general.

Venture perked up almost immediately, following behind you as they ready themselves to go on and on about their favorite dinosaur ever, the Deinocheirus! You tried to ask why it was their favorite ones, and all they said was something about it being "them fr fr" and having rocks in its stomach. You weren't too keen on questioning that one.

They take a large step so they're walking next to you, swinging your arms as you walk, "It's always been one of my biggest goals to find a dinosaur fossil! I really hope I do one day, if I did I could die happy!"

"Please don't die- I would be so sad if you died." You squeeze their hand, voice light as you joke with them.

"Aw but I wanna! I wanna be a fossil for future people like me to discover! When I do die I wanna be buried with a bunch of cool stuff! Maybe mess around with my bones a little, just to throw 'em off!" As you finally reach the fossil exhibits, they abandon you to run off and check over every. single. fossil. which while endearing, gave you a lot of running to do in an attempt to catch up.

"Finally! For once a museum that gets everything right! Well, everything as far as we know-" They stand next to one of the larger fossils, not anything you recognized as you take your place next to them, catching your breath.

"Wow, how impressive-" you wheeze, standing up straight and stretching out your legs as you link arms with Venture, trying to stop them from running off on you again.

They laugh, grabbing you by the shoulder and dragging you in the tightest hug you've ever received.

"Thank you, so, so, so much for planning this. And for listening to me talk about rocks so much, and for caring about me- and a million other things! I can't even remember everything you've done for me, but I know its a lot!" They let you go, still holding you by the shoulders, the biggest smile you've ever seen on a person splayed across their face.

"Of course-! I love spending time with you, you're well aware of that, silly." You laugh, grabbing their wrists and taking their hands off your shoulders, holding their hands as you admire the glow of excitement on their face.

"Welllll since you clearly don't mind, can we go to this other museum I found online next week?! I heard they have an area where you get to watch an hour long video on the story of Julius Caesar!"

[weebsinstash]

I was cleaning my room and I developed a hyper specific thirst for "your red string of fate soulmate uses The String to basically track you down and invite themselves into your apartment and start going through all your things"

I've just, been having my mind run amok with different ideas for Hazbin characters 💀 Vox wants to go through all your tech and your video games, Velvette and Valentino poke through your closet and your skincare, Alastor... he's just fucking judgy about almost everything lmao

They go to open a specific drawer without asking and you're all but BLOCKING THAT SHIT WITH YOUR BODY because Oh My God They Absolutelt Cannot Find Out That That's Your Sex Toy Drawer. And they find out anyways. Just. mortifying. That's too personal man I would die 💀 like I'm sorry can you imagine something just real uh large rolls out and like you've got VALENTINO just looming at you like "giiiiiiiiiiiiiirl---" cause like. Ok guess that solves the question of if you can fit him djggnjffkffjfjf

But it could also be cute! They see so many things around your room that they do enjoy!! Alastor sees that despite being modern, you listen to music that's from all genres including big bands and old jazz and, even your tastes in more modern music tend to be things similar from your childhood. Vox sees that you have like, figurines and anime merch and games he plays too! Velvette sees that you might dress in a way she considers uh ugly maybe just because you're broke as fuck and have been paying for all of your bills but maybe just maybe you like to draw and she can't help but notice the clothing in your drawings are nice and stylish. Valentino.... I dunno man he's kind of a jerk but I think he'd think it's cute when you get happy and excitedly show him things and maybe he even, idk,the yandereness turns him into a semi decent person and he's actually listening to everything you say even if he doesn't understand it because you're just so cute

Also regarding these guys going through your room I feel like it depends on what kind of story you're going for but if they're not being bullying and sadistic they're probably being nosey and infantilizing so like. You would think it would be horrible for Valentino to find your sex toys or lingerie right? Right! But he'll also notice a LACK of those things so there's no winning!!!! He'll tease you for keeping a vibrator wand in your bedside table and if he DOESNT find any fake dicks he'll tease you about being pent up and ask if "Daddy needs to take you to his favorite toy shop" or something 💀💀💀💀

I'm just saying like. Any which way, it's a scenario for a yandere to come into your life and react with either "oh cool, look how much we have in common! This is just further proof we belong together :)" OR "oh wow, you're not what I expected at all, but I love you so don't worry, I promise I'm not gonna abandon you and I'll just put in the work to change you until you better suit my own personal tastes but trust me you being a brat and resisting is also extremely adorable and I love that too :)"

[kairiscorner]

hihiii pookie :DD!!

tw// mentions of depression

i'm wondering if you could maybe write a comfort fic about miles 42 with a reader who hates asking for help even when theyre clearly suffering in silence because they were taught to just 'suck it up' and deal with it alone as a kid?

you dont have to write this if you dont feel comfortable with it <33

Thank you pooks :33!!

hi pooks @jrrantss <:DD oh man, okay so i was kind of that kid back then too (though i was a big crybaby) it's like the adults around me didn't fully comprehend why i was feeling the way i was, so in response to that, they basically condemned crying at home or in front of them. i'm sorry if you went through something similar or, hopefully not, something worse ;-; i hope this provides you some comfort, and in a way, might also let you know you aren't the only one going through stuff like this. i'm here for you pookie, all the time <:)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

you can be honest with me. – miles 42 x reader (angst + comfort)

nothing went your way this week, hell, you couldn't even remember a week in your life when anything felt right, when you didn't feel that you were holding yourself back from letting go of everything that felt wrong, awful, and just... painful. you were too good at keeping secrets, too good at lying about how you really felt; and that was something you hated about yourself, how you found lying as your first nature, not your second. you lied to people when they'd ask you if you were doing okay, if your day was going alright–you always gave them the answers they want to hear, that you were fine, that nothing was wrong.

but when everything just comes crumbling down, and the cracks in your facade begin to show and become more obvious... you get more and more defensive, more and more angry, more and more... scared and worried about these feelings that are hurling themselves at you so quickly that you can't even begin to understand why they're affecting you so badly–why people can see the bare you now if you just turn your face to look at them or open your mouth to speak; and your boyfriend was the first person to see you this way, vulnerable, yet trying all you can to avoid that vulnerability while you're crumbling down.

"hey," miles calls out to you in a soft voice as he sees your back turned to him as you kept working on your assignments, hunched over at your desk with your brows furrowed together and your lips curved into a scowl. you had been avoiding him for a few days now–at least he thinks you might be avoiding him–and have acted very distant, very... out of it recently. you didn't turn your head around to face him, which prompted him to continue talking, hopefully so you could find a reason to face him and his worried eyes. "you've, um... you've been busy lately." "uh-huh." you hummed as you tapped the end of your pencil against your desk impatiently, racking your brain for the answer to the questions written down that all seemed to blur together as the shittiness of the previous days just irritated you even more, and the worst part was... you couldn't hide the fact you can't mask ot anymore.

miles' face contorted as he got more and more worried about you, not knowing why you were acting starkly different than the usual you, or the only you he was familiar with. he extended his hand out to you as he walked over, looking at your cluttered up papers on your desk and the smudged up marks on the paper from your erasures. "...is something wr–" "everything's fine, i'm fine, i'm just peachy!" "you don't sound very convincing." he said, his voice returning to his nonchalant, cool tone as he took a small glimpse at your face before you turned away from his field of vision.

he sat in the chair next to you and wrapped his arm around you in an effort to comfort you. "cielo, sonething's up with you. are you... are you sure you don't wanna let me help?" he asked you with a soft voice, hoping he didn't overstep any boundaries as you slowly turned your head to show him a bit of your face. there were tears in your eyes, though you didn't dare let miles see them fall down your face; there was a sob stuck in your throat, but you didn't dare let miles hear it escape your lips. you had been there before, being severely troubled for more things than just homework–but never had you been advised to do anything than the age old phrases you've heard all your life as a kid: 'get over it.'

you took in a deep breath and tried to tell him what those words you've exhausted yourself from saying all the damn time–that you don't need any help, that you've got this, that you're okay... but your body's betraying you right now. it's betraying you for turning your back on your own feelings, but that... was never your fault, never. as you let out the breath you've been holding in, the hot tears came streaking down the ends of your eyes, your scowl morphing into a sad frown as you felt yourself slowly come undone and all the raging thoughts in your mind boiled down into one thought right then and there: 'fuck no, i am far from okay'.

you had one tear come down, then two, then... a whole waterfall of tears came pouring down your eyes as you finally released that sob you had been desperately keeping in. you had released it out into the air as it mingled with miles' shushing and gentle whispers as he held you while you leaned against him, wailing as you tried telling him how nothing had been right lately. you choked out in broken cries how you desperately wanted a way out of everything horrible that's been happening but you didn't want anyone else to be bothered by your 'stupid, insignificant problems'.

"i just... want to be okay... but i can't even pretend to be okay for at least one damn day." "please, stop pretending, mi vida. it's hurting me how you... how you think it's strength to rake up everything by yourself... when you clearly need help." miles said with a cracked voice as he felt himself choke up at your melancholic state. you cried even more out of guilt that you saddened miles, but he kissed your forehead, cheek–your whole face as he murmured words of reassurance, of love, to you to calm you down and comfort you. "you're not alone, not anymore... i don't care if some idiots in your life want you to deal with alone, never to bother them–you're never a bother to me, got that?" he mutters to you as he holds you close, letting you sob into his shoulder, your sobs getting louder and louder all the while. he shushes you and rubs your back gently, kissing your wet cheeks as he keeps reminding you that no matter what you're going through, what problems you're having, he's always going to be there for you–be the help you'll need, one way or another.

"please, don't be scared, mi vida... you can be honest with me. i promised to love you with all my heart, protect you, and... always be the help you'll need."

he whispered to you as he looked into your eyes and gently wiped your tears away and leaned his forehead against yours, hoping you would be more lenient, more understanding towards yourself and your own needs; and that you wouldn't hesitate to ask him for help. because even if you don't ask him to, he'll be there to help you, be there to guide you, be there to comfort you the best he can. because he loves you, and knows you deserve more than what you think you deserve, that you deserve... the best of the best, and nothing less.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless @q2ie @zalayni @anikaluv @conitagray

[moodymisty]

Hey Misty, sorry for the incoming braindump. I read a theory on reddit that the primarchs were partly made from minor gods of the Warp and that the Loyalists were gods that Big E bargained with and who went willingly, while the Traitors were gods he subjugated/tricked somehow. I thought this was really cool and had it on my mind all day. Full-on neuron activation moment. But I don't have any friends who know about 40k to talk about it with so I suppose I will leave some thoughts here :) sorry if this is annoying/unwelcome.

This focuses on the Traitors mostly because I find them very interesting.

Like, what if reader is/was a devout and beloved high-priestess/follower of one of those gods(maybe it's a steadily declining religion, even?) And so when the specific primarch in question fleetingly lays eyes on her for the first time while taking over the world she lives on, there is just this instant feeling of desire/attachment/protectiveness that they don't understand. Maybe the primarch had some kind of silent subconscious urge to go to that planet specifically, because the god has/had worshippers there and it sort of calls out to them. Like divine homesickness lol.

For the Loyalists it would be mostly wholesome and cute tbh. It'd be like they found a piece of themselves that they didn't know was missing. Very meet-cute potential.

But for the Traitors it could be soooo spicy. You get snatched by Curze and it is just a shitshow. Mood swings galore and most of the time you have no idea what you even did to trigger them(your silent prayers for mercy made something in his head feel like it was crawling) I think your take on him being really obsessive and almost desperately clingy(in the most unnerving of ways) fits super well. Whatever entity got diced up and put in the Curze soup was probably a fucking scary one.

I think Perturabo would be really scary too. Although maybe finding someone like that would soothe him somehow? You'd definitely be walking on eggshells with him (at least at first) though. Another one with mood swings. Another scary god, but less "horrific torment to cleanse you of your sins" and more of a "You lesser creatures exist for worship and labor." Maybe that's why he's so pissy, the divine part of him was used to having constant praise and offerings and now he gets almost none.

Angron would be soo tragic. His whole thing was empathy so I think whatever god he has in him/was made from might have been a much more gentle one. He's got one side of him crying out desperately to be near you and the nails raking through him on the other.

Lorgar would be hilarious tbh. A guy made from the blended up remains of a minor Warp deity constantly crowing about you being a goddess (when you were just a humble priestess before lol). It's like this comedically backwards situation, the God worshipping the acolyte. Maybe the entity he was made from was literally a deity of worship? I dunno. Kinda stumped on this one lol.

I think Mortarion would be pretty normal tbh. Might even fight against the thing in his chest that tugs him towards your presence. Slow burn city. I think whatever god he was made from very much wanted to be left alone, but wasn't particularly scary. Just a bit cold, distant, and stern. Maybe something to do with resilience in the face of suffering/adversity?

Fulgrim is pretty obvious thematically. Another one that wouldn't be too scary. Whatever divine he was made from was some kind of god of perfection/pursuits (obvs). Something you'd pray to before you tried to paint a masterpiece, or maybe even as you tried to learn any skill at all. Praying in the hopes of becoming a master at whatever trade you do. As for why it didn't go willingly, maybe it saw the creations Big E intended to make as flawed, and found being placed in such a vessel as distasteful? Might be why he's so obsessed with achieving perfection, because that part of him is viscerally digusted by his imperfections.

Bonus: Guilliman was made from some kind of deity of order. Or even a god of plenty/growth? He always seems to leave places better than they were before he got there, after all. I know a lot of people see Sanguinius or Vulkan as Konrad's opposite, but I think maybe Guilliman is closer. Guilliman feels like true order. Curze feels like chaos grasping for stability (via his obsession with executing criminals) idk.

Apologies for how long this ended up being >_< I had a lot more thoughts than I'd expected lol. I hope your weekend goes well!

This is an interesting idea! I've not heard of this theory before but given the vagueness behind Emps dealings in creating the primarchs, anything is possible

[koolades-world]

Oh my god. Nightbringer Satan crushing on MC and Demon brothers freaking out because it's the same thing that happened with Lillith. Lucifer acts like a clown. (Maybe tries the atic). Belphie too.

NO BUT you think exactly like me, like omg are we secretly twins… The idea is still so fresh in brother's minds since it literally just happened, and Satan is none the wiser. He didn’t live through it after all. He hasn't really had a real conversation about what happened to them since he hates being around them. And honestly, anything that pisses off Lucifer must be the right choice for him. And the thing about the attic! Kinda like to think that Lucifer realized that attic was the perfect place to hide his brothers after sticking Satan up there. If it could contain Satan, what couldn’t it contain? it’s too perfect! I think I just love anything Satan angst

idk if this was a request or not but I kinda wanna write something for this idea anyways so,, ty anon you're literally so cool, sending my love :)

I haven’t gotten through all of Nightbringer’s story yet so sorry if this isn’t totally accurate to what happens. I'm on like chapter 5 and I haven't seen any spoilers... Honkai Star Rail recently came out and my friends are also playing that game so we’ve been playing that. Will go back to Nightbringer soon!

brewing just under the surface

It has been some time since Mc had been outed as a human. It has taken everyone except Solomon time to adjust. At first, everyone was furious in their own ways. Belphie, Satan, and Lucifer showed it in the typical way. It was the most they had truly let themselves go after falling. Everyone in the Devildom was advised to stay inside. Levi and Beel holed themselves up inside, hiding away from the world, fearing that if they showed themselves, they would be burnt again. Asmo found himself drinking into a stupor almost nightly, as when he laid in bed trying to fall asleep, all he could think about was Mc. Mammon was similar. He was rarely home, afraid he would see Mc so he went out gambling or exploring the Devildom to take his mind off everything. Eventually, they began to warm back up to Mc.

Mammon, however, was also the quickest to find himself missing Mc. He began to forgive them and understand their situation. They had been nothing but sweet to him, so he felt like he owed it to them. They had been a friend in a tough time. He began taking them with him on his adventures and gambled less. With them, he felt happier, more like himself. Part of him was kind of giddy they could exist in a state like this, despite everything. He felt like he could forget everything with them. He had them all to himself, after all. Even if they were a human, they were still the same deep down.

Eventually, Beel and Levi came around, followed by Asmo. The remaining three brothers thought they could never forgive Mc. Lucifer had placed so much trust in their attendant only for him to learn they couldn’t even tell the truth about who they were to him. He might be able to come around one day, but for the meantime, he needed to be alone. Belphie had vowed to hate humans for as long as he lived, so forgiveness was out of the question completely.

However, Satan wasn’t really sure why he was so mad. He struggled to find a reason to be mad sometimes. He would rage until he wasn’t really sure why he was raging in the first place, which would make him begin to rage all over again. He had no substantial relationship with this attendant. He was always locked up, locked out, or just too mad to interact with, making him unable to connect with them. It wasn’t on his brother’s behalf either. He didn’t really care about them too much, not enough to be this upset. Mc did technically lie to him, but that thought didn’t really provoke him. So, what was it? That's the mess he had found himself in for the past week or so. He wasn't really sure when he started thinking about it, but he was really tumbling down the rabbit hole now.

Satan was tuckered out after a long night out of causing destruction. He found himself at peace on very few occasions. One of the things that gave him the time to think in peace was after he was tired, or after he had just woken up. When he wasn't angry, he found himself enjoying things, such as thinking or the beauty of the world around him. Because of this, he was seated at the edge of a cliff, looking over the ocean. His legs and tail dangled over the edge. He looked minuscule compared to everything else. The sky was dark, so he stared down at the waves crashing against the cliff. Sometimes, he would overhear his brothers complaining about how it was always dark in the Devildom, but he actually thought it was nice. It comforted him. Not too far away was a road. One of the moons hung low in the sky. The others were not visible at the moment. In another moment of blissful clarity, he had taken the time to learn about the Devildom sky from a book. It had been a gift from Mc. Why they would give him a gift like that was beyond him, but he had found himself enjoying it despite that. It was one of the few things he had not destroyed in his rage.

While staring at sea, he simply thought. With a clear mind, he began to wonder why he still found himself mad at Mc. He hadn't seen them in a while, so maybe the feelings had calmed down. It was positive that he was able to think about it calmly, anyways. He was still unsure why exactly he was mad at Mc in the first place. Perhaps he had thought he had finally found someone that he could somewhat relate to. But then again, they still didn't know each other that well. As he was trapped in his thought, he heard the crunching of gravel behind him.

“Mammon? You out here?” The person he has just been thinking about had suddenly appeared as if it was magic. They had a motorcycle helmet pinched between their arm and torso. They froze once they realized Satan was there.

“Hey, Mc.” He turned back to look over the ocean.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were out here. You haven’t seen Mammon recently, have you?” They remained standing awkwardly behind him.

“No.” He kept his answers short, not really sure how to reply.

“Right, thank you.” They didn’t move at first. Then they spoke again. “Do you mind if I sit next to you for a moment?”

Satan thought about it for a moment. “I don’t mind.” He had a lot of questions. They settled next to him. Most anyone who sat next to him sat at least an arms length away. But Mc sat just within reach. Not too close to invade his personal space, but close enough to talk to him on a personal level. If they wanted, they could reach out and touch his shoulder. They set their helmet on the side farther from him.

“What brings you out here?” They asked, looking at the sky too. He had to stop and think about their question again. If it had been anyone else, this would have bothered him by now.

“I’m not sure. It’s beautiful, mysterious. Maybe that’s why.” He looked at them from the corner of his eye. Their looked out at the connection between the ocean and the sky.

“I’ve always loved nature. It’s not the same as home, but it’s beautiful in a different way.” The way they referenced the human works so casually made something within him twinge. Lucifer hated that place, and he should too, but he found himself curious.

“What was it like there?” He asked. They looked surprised, but answered nonetheless.

“It depended where you were. I grew up in a place where everything was always green with life, and you could always find some sort of life somewhere. But I traveled to places where all you could see was sand or the endless sea, like now. The biggest difference was the rising and setting sun. It wasn’t always dark. The sun always rose in the morning, to chase away to dark, and the sun always set to welcome the dark back. I used to wish it could always be night so I didn’t have to go to school and spend all my time at midnight reading, but now I miss it.” They reminisced. He finally turned his head to look at them. The stars and sea reflected in their eyes. “You eyes remind me of the morning. The forest and the rising sun illuminating it all.”

Satan paused again. He has never taken the time to look that closely at his eyes. He would have to look at them the next chance he got. “Thank you.” He finally said. “Do you miss the human world?”

It was Mc’s turn to stop. They still hadn’t realized he was looking at them. “Sometimes I do. But the Devildom has a charm. I’ve spend so much time here, it’s hard not to love. I do love it here.” They looked furthered down at the rocks below, reflecting the crashing waves in their eyes instead. “Someday, I would like to take you there. You would love some of the remote nature locations.”

This statement made Satan heat up. He couldn’t comprehend how they could say such kind things to him, the embodiment of anger. “That sounds nice.” His mind began to wander and suddenly, everything he has been feeling dawned on him. Mc was his friend. He had a friend. It was warm feeling that he didn’t know how to describe, but it did make him want to hold and care for Mc.

“Can I hug you? It’s fine if you say no, I understand.” He nervously looked back over at them again. This time, they were looking back at him. They hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. They scooted over to him, and wrapped their arms around him. They placed their head on his shoulder and inhaled. Satan was sure this was the most amount of affection he had gotten, probably ever. He was almost overwhelmed at first by the emotions he felt.

“You give really good hugs.” Mc seemed to really enjoy the embrace, but he didn’t dare respond. He wasn’t even sure what to say. He didn’t want to let go. This was probably also one of the most peaceful, sweet moments he’d ever had. “I should get going. Mammon is still missing.” Mc sighed.

“Alright.” He let go of them, but they didn’t scoot away quickly. They sat there for a moment, thinking.

“I’m making dinner tonight, if you’re interested. I also have something for you back at the house, so let me know once you get home. See you later.” They then got up, picked up their helmet, and left. They turned around a final time to wave, and he paused for a moment before waving back.

That was the beginning of it all. After that, he found himself by Mc’s side more and more. They went to see more remote scenery, and eventually, they went out in public together. He was still the same irritable, hotheaded demon, but he found it happening less often in the presence of Mc. When it did, they were always there to pick up the pieces of what he has done and comfort him. He was worried he might harm them at first, but they quickly proved they could handle themselves. They knew what made him tick and always seemed to know what he was going to do next. He would still have outbursts pretty frequently, but Mc mysteriously was always right on top of it.

Of course, his brothers, if he even dared call them that, noticed. They claimed they didn't care about their attendant but at the same time got upset with him for hogging their attention. Many times, Mc broke up fights between him and his housemates for this very reason. Even if he wasn't the Avatar of Wrath, he wouldn't have backed down. He still wasn't sure why. He wanted to hold them, love them, care for them. He was smart enough to know this wasn't how a friend would feel about another. Still, he had no clue what it could be if it wasn't that. As much as he didn't dislike Belphegor, he kept finding himself thwarting his attempts to kill Mc. They used to be his least hated of his "brothers" but now he had to say Beelzebub was the least hated now since he would help to control his unruly twin.

He found himself turning to books for answers. There was no one he could ask for advice besides Mc themselves, and he didn't feel comfortable bring this up with them. He was trying to grow more independent anyways. Books reminded him of Mc, since they had been to one to show him how useful they could be. They held the answers to everything, as long as you were holding the right one. Occasionally, he would find himself wanting to rip one to shreds but refrained since he knew it may be useful in the future. Besides, what would Mc think?

All of the books he consulted said the same thing. They described this feeling as a "crush" or whatever that might mean. He thought that word was stupid. The actual meaning was to destroy something with intense pressure and he definitely didn't want to do that. Other than that, he found the definition clear. He thought the word love might describe how he felt better, but he was too afraid to call it that. He did think they were attractive, and he would say it happened rather quick. But what was he supposed to do? They were the only person willing to get close to him.

He was in the middle of reading this book and processing this information when Lucifer threw open the door to his room. His room wasn’t barren anymore. Mc had built a small shelf for him to place his small book collection on. They had done it by hand so he was very careful with it.

“What are you plotting with that human?” He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed.

“Nothing. Get out.” He didn’t look up from his read, but his tail lashed about like an aggravated cat. He prided himself for not tacking him the moment he walked in.

“If you would just tell me, I won’t have to do anything the hard way.” Lucifer didn’t relent. He rushed forward to grab his collar and suspended him midair. “I know about your little crush.” Satan immediately stopped struggling. He was stunned. He couldn't bring himself to form a response.

"That is strictly prohibited. You are to maintain a professional relationship with the attendant.” Satan looked into Lucifer’s eyes. He still wasn’t great at anything relating to emotions, but there was something more than anger stirring in his piercing eyes.

“And since when has that mattered to you? You filthy pig.” Satan snarled, moving to grab the hands at his collar.

“There’s so much you don’t know. You have yet to learn. I don’t care if you hate me. I refuse to lose another one.” The air stilled after those words. He had never sounded Lucifer so upset. It made Satan begin to think. Compared to his housemates, he was nothing but a blip on the radar of time. Before he could even think about forming a response, Lucifer was moving, still holding him. Satan protested and struggled, causing a ruckus.

Mc had been sitting with Mammon in his room, giggling together quietly over another stupid outfit Mc had made. They both went silent as they heard the struggle pass the door, the mood spoiled. They glanced at each other before cracking the door. Mc knew that Lucifer and Satan hadn’t had a physical fight in a while now, so when they saw Lucifer carting Satan off somewhere, they pushed the door open all the way.

“Lucifer. What’s going on here?” When Lucifer didn’t stop, Mc ran after him, causing Mammon to follow as well. He ignored their insistent cries. Mc grabbed onto his lowest pair of wings at the base and dug their heels into the ground in vane. They felt themselves begin to pale as they marched towards the stairs leading to the attic. The attic only held terrible memories, but they were determined to help fix whatever was going on.

As the parade went upstairs, Mc tripped on the first step. Lucifer continued without them, not even acknowledging that they fell. Their knees stung. Mammon was quick to appear at their side and give them a hand up. He had never asked why they seemed so traumatized by the attic, but he knew they even hated being anywhere near that spiral staircase. Dust showered the both of them as Lucifer stomped angrily up the stairs. Their ascent was anything but silent.

“Are ya sure ya wanna go after ‘em?” Mammon whispered to Mc.

“I do. Will you go with me?” They gripped his hand tightly.

“I would go even if ya didn’t ask.” After taking a deep breath, Mc began to ascend the stars as quickly as they dared after the duo, gripping Mammon’s hand. Upon arriving at the top, Mc swallowed nervously as they were greeted with an all too familiar sight. The metallic, enchanted bars looked newer than the last time they had seen them. Lucifer was currently standing behind them holding Satan. Standing as tall as they dared, Mc spoke up.

“Lucifer. What do you think you’re doing?” Their voice came out weaker than intended. Satan had never seen them so fearful. Sweat glistened on their forehead. As Lucifer turned around to face them, they stumbled back a little.

“This does not concern you, Mc. I thought I made it clear that I did not need a human meddling in my affairs.” Anytime Lucifer moved even a little, Satan noticed they seemed ready to dive to the ground or throw their hands over their head.

“Satan is my friend. I’m here for him. We can talk about this.” Their voice wavered.

“What part of leaving my private affairs alone do you not understand? You are merely an attendant. I have attempted to speak to Satan in the past. This hasn’t worked before. It will not work now.” Lucifer shook Satan a little. He growled.

“I understand you don’t want me to be part of that, and that’s fine, but I know a more healthy and less, uh, strenuous way of communicating. If you would just listen to me-“ Mc gently patted the air as a way of showing they were trying to tone down the situation.

“I will not repeat myself again. If Satan wants to act like an animal, I will treat him like one. Since you seem so keen on talking, I’ll just throw you in there with him. If you’re still alive when I return, I’ll consider it.” Lucifer moved Satan to hold him with one hand. As they reached for Mc, they went into a flurry of movement.

“No!” The shriek they let out pierced even the ears of Lucifer. They grabbed onto anything and everything to get between them and Lucifer. They continued to scream loudly, telling Lucifer to stay back. The only thing that truly proved a barrier between Lucifer and the human was Mammon. He seemed shaken by everything, but refused to move.

“Luci. I love ya and yer the best older brother I coulda wanted, but doncha think this is too far?” Mammon crossed his arms, hiding Mc behind himself.

“I warned them already. It’s time they pay the consequences of their actions. Humans are bad news.” Lucifer tried to reach around Mammon, but he caught his arm. Without another word, Lucifer grabbed Mammon’s arm right back and threw him over the edge and down the staircase. With him out of the way, Lucifer easily grabbed the human by the throat. They abruptly stopped making any noise. He shook them a little, seemingly enjoying how they swayed under his grasp and then threw both the entities in his hands into the attic. The door slammed shut and Lucifer disappeared. He could be heard yelling at the bottom of the stairs at Mammon.

For the first ten minutes, Satan wasn’t even sure if Mc was alive. They held completely still and remained exactly how they had been throw in. They were on their side facing away from him. Once Satan was sure nobody was coming back, he crawled over to them. He flipped them onto their back and was met with their familiar face. They quickly made eye contact with him, holding it. They way they stared at him made Satan nervous. Now was not the time to be getting butterflies. The attic was barren. There was no bed, or hundreds of spare boxes. There was little besides a layer of dust and what seemed to be some of Diavolo’s old things.

Satan ghosted his hand over their forehead. They were sweaty. He didn't know what to say. Mc was always better at dealing with emotions, but he knew they needed him. He thought back to what they would do after he had a meltdown. "Does anything hurt?" He first asked. They didn't do anything at first. He just sat and waited for them to respond, because sometimes he didn't respond right away either.

"Just my feelings." Mc cracked a smile. He was glad that they were feeling good enough to try to joke, but he also wasn't sure what he would have done if they had said they were physically hurt.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" That was the next thing Mc always said to him.

"Did you ever read that one book about the stars that I gave you?" He was taken by surprise by the question.

"I did." He had really liked it.

"Let's look out the window then, and you can point out your favorite stars." They pushed themself up with a wince. He held a hand out, to which they accepted without thought. They had lied to him about not being hurt. They leant the window sill as he began explaining what he had read. Eventually, he let Mc begin to explain things he had questions about. Again, he found himself looking at them instead of the stars. The lengths they went for him were beyond him.

He wasn't sure how to approach confessing how he felt. Now didn't feel like the right time. For now, he could just admire and appreciate them. Hopefully, that day would come...

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

Mid Week Energy Check

a pac reading made to provide insight into whats going on energetically around you or with you because sometimes it's not only about what you are responsible for, but also about the things that you cannot control yet influence your life.

pile 1. pile 2. pile 3.

images are from pinterest and dividers from @saradika-graphics

•☽────✧˖°˖Number 1 ˖°˖✧────☾•

Okay I see some drama, a lot of self indulgence and plenty of questionable economic decisions as a consequence. It seems like new beginnings are becoming more and more exciting, everything is new and shiny, there's no complaints so far, but I see some signs of a comedown from this high. Positivity might feel almost too forced and toxic, almost as if it's only there to hide and deceit you from more serious matters. There's nothing wrong with some excess on time to time I think, but don't get hooked on these feelings of intense and rapid happiness as in the long run, it won't serve your real purpose. Idealism at this moment seems to be more important than doing the actual work to pursue these ideals. Remain careful, as plenty of people who surround you are being lead to indulge in reckless behavior, not saying you shouldn't, just saying you should do it while being conscious of it. There will be a lot of talking, a lot of promises and many ideations of new ways to do the same, but don't get caught on that if you already see yourself deviating from your path. Expect some confrontational situations too, specially if you decide to call out anyone. This is a moment where your ability to find balance will be tested.

•☽────✧˖°˖Number 2 ˖°˖✧────☾•

You might feel like you have been left alone and betrayed, maybe by others or maybe by yourself. But more important than that, is the fact that your own personal power won't be affected for the long run. Don't allow the effects of someone's lack of morality and self esteem stain your own values and the way you perceive others. No need to get paranoid and look for who is going to backstab you either, they will show themselves pretty quickly by leaving your side if you tap in with a calmer approach to any insecurity you have. Don't focus on concealing your perceived weaknesses, focus on nurturing your strengths and showcasing them gracefully only when you know they are celebrated genuinely. Conflict could be inescapable some times, don't take it as something that should be solved by the conventionally aggressive ways, but more so as an opportunity to take assertive and strategic approaches when possible. If you are forced to be in situations where it seems impossible to keep it together and remain calm, don't be afraid to walk away and handle it whenever your mind is clear, as it's likely people might be waiting for you to loose your cool or testing your patience.

•☽────✧˖°˖Number 3 ˖°˖✧────☾•

As depressing as things might seem right now, the chance to move forward into safety will be granted as long as you are open to the idea of asking for the help of others, and letting them help you. Loneliness sometimes could be more of a feeling than a fact, you might not be able to see who is there to actually help you and guide you towards building stronger foundations to be at peace with yourself. It is also quite normal and understandable to feel isolated during periods of change. There's plenty for you to do in order to find fulfilment, but you will have to get in touch with a more creative side of you in order to find people who will accompany new journeys of emotional and spiritual development. You are not the type of person who has an easy time asking for others to be compassionate, but this moment might be nice to begin having compassion for yourself, understanding that it's impossible to keep a streak of overachievement forever, and you are not disappointing anyone by being tired or ill. Let those who celebrate your success, take care of you when that same success has made you tired.

•☽────✧˖°˖ THE END ˖°˖✧────☾•

Hiii, its me, Gigi (the tarot reader).

I hope this PAC reading was useful. I'm still figuring out how to make the Post itself pretty but so far this looks kinda okay i guess.

I'm thinking about making a themed ask game sometime on this blog, most likely during the weekend because i do feel like reading tarots for other people again eventually. Last time i read tarots online it was on reddit but i was kinda doing that as a part time job.

ANYWAYS: I hope everyone is doing amazing this week or at least not doing too bad and working on getting better. I'm so thankful for all the notes on my other PAC readings <3 i genuinely was expecting to just end up rambling about tarot into the void of tumblr i guess, but this was a nice surprise <3

Much love, Gigi <3

(btw if you feel like following me I'm trying to post tarot related blogs and PACS as often as possible, for those who asked and I couldn't reply yet: I still don't know if I'm putting up a tarot services menu thing, but I'm sure I'll end up doing a tarot ask thing this weekend) (btw if you feel like following me I'm trying to post tarot related blogs and PACS as often as possible, for those who asked and I couldn't reply yet: I still don't know if I'm putting up a tarot services menu thing, but I'm sure I'll end up doing a tarot ask thing this weekend)

｡ ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦MASTERPOST & PAID SERVICES໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ

[luimagines]

it didn't answer my question but it was delightful to read nonetheless!!!!!

i meant like.. yk how you mentioned that the chain would doubt human reader more bcs theyre human?? then you said a situation when reader would save sky and sky would be like "nope readers got this fym they dont??" like what situations would happen with the others to make them also be like "nvm readers got this"?

(hopefully this makes sense HELP)

-person who asked about the human reader scenario thing

I've had to think about this for a while so I'm that this took me so long to answer. ^.^*

Twilight: Given that he has no problems with humans, Reader's problem would just winning him over as a person. He finds that he adore them just as much when he first introduces Wolfie to them. They gasped and instantly started complimenting and petting him, much to the horror of everyone else. They couldn't resist giving him kisses and telling what a good boy he was- not recognizing him a wolf. Twilight figures that if Reader likes animals, they're not all that bad.

Sky: His opinion was already mentioned when they got separated from the group and he hurt his ankle, unable to move on. Reader picked him up and carried him on his back until they were able to meet up with the group again. Their stamina and determination impressed him. From there he disregarded the other comments and assumptions about Reader, coming to their aid when they needed him to.

Wind: Being in the middle, Wind didn't really have much of an opinion. Not to mention that his age leaves him more vulnerable to going with the crowd and what the majority says. But there's a moment where his age also leaves him vulnerable as any small boy would. Reader finds him rubbing away the tears when the adventure become too much and lets him cry on their shoulder. They don't make a big deal out of it and help to hide the fact that he broke down from the other heroes. Wind's ego was bruised at being caught, but he's glad that Reader took his pride into account, knowing how much he wanted the other boys to view him as a equal. He'll remember that.

Wild: Reader was willing to eat anything Wild threw their way. they weren't picky and even willing to help make new recipes for Wild to make. They cooked together, sharing stories around the cauldron and laughing about how similar they were, even if they were still so different. Wild doesn't know/remember he's part human, but he knows he's different. Reader was always different so Wild doesn't think they'll see him as anything other than himself- and when they manage to choke down the dubious food he playfully tossed their way. He realized that was an invitation for the biggest prank war of the century. This'll be fun.

Legend: This boy near the end is just petty. At first Reader would meet his sass tit for tat. But after a particularly difficult day, Legend tries to get into the verbal sparring before Reader frustratedly tears up, hands clenched into fists and shaking from the restraint they hold over themselves. They yell at Legend, calling him out on his crap and saying that they're sick of his attitude and they don't understand what they did for him to fight them so much. It occurs to Legend that they were not on the same page after all and the verbal sparring was actually Reader attempting to defend themselves against his barrage of attitude. Reader takes off and Legend gives them time to cool down. He feels bad. He's self conscious enough to realize that he's the one at fault here.

Four: I think he's the simplest to be won over. Obviously, Reader has questions about the weapons he'd make in the forge. Even is Reader doesn't necessarily have the knowledge to meet him toe to toe in blacksmithing, they'd no doubt knowing someone who does. They mention techniques and Four was able to go on and on about his love and his passion with someone who actually listened. It doesn't seem like much to Reader but that sort of connection rewired something in Four's brain. Four may have grown up surrounded by bias but he's the fastest to simplify that Reader, at least, isn't defined but what others have told him.

Warrior: Is always watching them like a hawk. If they're up to something he's going to be the first to know. Because of this long time observation sting operation thing he sees all the little things that Reader does when they think no one is looking. Little by little his bias and hate his chipped away and before he knows it, when Reader is threatened, he's sprinting to come to their aid- worry gnawing at his bones on the off chance he doesn't get there in time. It's only after Reader is tended to and no long in any danger that he realizes the implications of his actions. He wants to hold on to what he thought he knew... but he finds that the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that Reader had already proven a lot of the rumors wrong. He owes them an apology.

Hyrule: As one the least trusting of the group, he would have spent a lot of time avoiding Reader just on principle. But then he gets a bad hit. Sliced right across his abdomen. He's bleeding out. There's a lot of blood loss. He's worried about the curse. The monsters. Hyrule. Reader is suddenly above him, pinning him down, refusing the very concept of him losing more blood. They're covered in the crimson liquid quickly. Despite not able to feel or use magic, they patch him up. They stich him together again. Through sheer force of will they refuse to let him die. They don't take advantage of his weakness. They don't use his blood for anything he would have thought they would. He passes out with his life in their hands and a debt to pay.

Time: Is skeptical of new people as a rule. But he never really believed the rumors of humans anyway. He just never had a personal experience with them and he knew better after everything he's gone through to make that call without have first hand information. There was a moment where they were about to check in to an inn but Reader was denied access. To avoid a fight, they stayed with Epona in the stables for the night. Time was furious with the concept. The next day, after herding them away from the others he asks why they didn't fight back. Why didn't they stand up for themselves? Reader explains that's just how it is between Hylians and humans. They don't expect anything glamorous when dealing with them. They say that being the bigger person comes at a price but they're not willing to sacrifice their head for the sake of someone who doesn't know them and will never see them again. Time isn't happy with this answer. It's not right. And isn't it a hero's job to fix what's wrong?

[quirkwizard]

If you could change/rewrite any UA Teachers, what would you change? Would you change their Quirks?

For the sake of this, I'll focus on first part of your question. I do not for the life of me understand changing their Quirks and what the point of that would be. And I'll be focusing on the teachers as a whole rather then just individuals like Nemuri or Nezu.

The ultimate issue with the other teachers is that they just aren't given anything to do. They are there to fill out the rest of the roster and look cool while doing it. The more relevance they have is when it comes time to fight the other kids during exams. I understand they aren't the main focus. All of that is given to Aizawa and All Might. And I like Aizawa and All Might, and I understand their importance to the series in this context. It's just that the take up so much air space in the school scenes. Or at least, we aren't given any school scenes with out them and the teachers. I could simply have these characters replace these two, but I don't thinking taking something from another character would be helpful. However, I do think there are ways to improve them without taking up too much space.

I think this could easily be remedied by just giving the teachers more stuff to do. Namely, by actually being teachers. Now, this could just be showing them in specific roles. Heck, Hound Dog is supposed to be the student consular and you could easily done some scenes with him and the other students given everything they've been through. However, I think there could be more done in them teaching actual skills related hero work. We see something like this when Nemuri teachers the other kids how to handle themselves in interviews. Have Present Mic teach them about media and how it affects hero work, have Recovery Girl teach them first aid, get Nezu to teach them tactics. This can help give us more insight to the teachers, give us a peek into the world at large through the lessons, and can work as down time between all of the bigger events in the series.

And this can be something that goes beyond the class room. Have the teachers instruct certain students. Like what if after the exams, some of the students went to the teacher they fought and asked for their help to learn how to cover up their weaknesses. Alternatively, just work with a teacher with a similar power. For example, Mina could learn a lot from Vlad King on controlling her power. That would be a great way to solve several issues at once. It gives a chance for the students to learn from their mistakes, potentially give more unique ways for the students to grow as fighters and character. It would help build more character for the teachers, and give use greater insight into them. Could this be done better by changing some of their Quirks to better fit with the students? Maybe, but I think you could still find someway for the teachers to help train certain students.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 2.4

It's in the paper that Allen Klein was involved in 40+ lawsuits and John doesn't question it? At this point, I feel like he just didn't want to let Paul be right about anything. 

My question is who did that work on before? I mean who fucking does business like that? Let alone business with the most successful man in the world. 

John's complaining about Paul being too good at his job is both hilarious (what the hell is Paul supposed to do with that) and sad (it shows just how far their musical relationship has degraded from partners to rivals)

How did they lose Northern Songs? Genuinely, if anyone can break it down for me I'd be so grateful. Anyway I'm sure it was devastating for both of them. “Who'd have the children?” “Dick James”. 

I know I'm insane, but can I be allowed to see a glimmer of goodness here? I really do think it's John's kinder side winning out when he decides not to lie. Like, yes, he gets a buzz off of watching Paul go white at his words, but I think he also just – in that moment – didn't have the heart to trick Paul into staying. 

But also. Why are we trying to maneuver Paul at all if the end game is for John to leave? It just doesn't make sense to try to trick Paul into signing the contract unless John's divorce threat is at the very least not meant to be final. 

I will never understand this picture. Even in the emotional state he's in, he's still hamming it up? There is something seriously wrong with this man. 

I do find it interesting that the fact that Paul cried his eyes out after that meeting isn't even mentioned in the doc. I wonder why. 

Let's put the bizarre, super-warped timeline in this quote aside for a minute. Apparently the depression started after Brian died and it lasted for about two years and John was still in it during Pepper. Okay. That aside . . .

I have to assume this negative lense on what I can only assume means the period between 66 and 68 is highly influenced by hindsight bias. I agree that John was depressed at the time, in an unhappy marriage, doing too much LSD, etc and that looking at Paul's prolific talent and expansive , fast-paced life would have been maddening. But everyone go back to the end of part one really quick. He looks extremely happy. He sounds extremely happy. Everyone who knows him says he's never been happier. I think he just can't accept right now that there was so much good and he's lost it. 

“I look from the wings at the play you are staging . . . I don't know why nobody told you how to unfold your love.”

Insanity quote Hall of Fame. Paul explaining why the Beatles just had to break up, obviously, because he and John "didn't marry the same girl." Someone write the fic where John and Paul both marry the same girl. Could be Yoko or Linda. Sister trad wives au. 

Okay, cool, so this means I have full permission to interpret and tin hat about any lyrics I want then, right?

But also. Are we just not going to talk about the fact that Paul dumped a bucket of garbage water and punched this person? And are we not mentioning the depression and alcoholism and heroin abuse during this time?

It's so embarrassing how he looks to her for confirmation here. John, they asked you what you think. Just you. Not some complicated definition. Not Yoko's definition. Just your own thoughts.

“I couldn't wait for them to make up their mind about peace or whatever. About committing themselves.” Yeah, John. You sound real committed to peace. Or whatever. Here's a theory that anyone can shoot down if they want: John asked Paul for some kind of commitment (a friendship wedding, a partnership contract, a mutual wanking pledge) in India and Paul was a chicken about it. 

What was that day like, I wonder? I imagine extremely stiff and professional and horrid. But who knows. Maybe it was nice, and maybe that made everything worse.

I will go to my death believing that instant karma was for Paul. 

Do we think John actually did send Paul “about twenty postcards from Denmark” all covered in hearts none of which Paul responded to? Paul could be just as cruel in his lack of reaction as John was in his over reaction.

I'm sorry but that is not what a man says when he's just lying to the press to buy time for business. That's what a man says to the press when he's trying desperately to communicate with someone who he can't get through to any other way. 

But really, I just don't understand why the creator chose to minimize Paul's emotional response to John's divorce statement. If we don't see him bawling his eyes out and losing the will to live, he comes off like a self-assured, uncaring, jerk. Which. To be fair. John didn't see those things, and that is exactly what John thought of Paul during this time. But still. The audience now comes away from this doc with a skewed view. 

All we get is Paul being pissed off about Phil Spector butchering Let it Be without his consent and John and George trying to change McCartney's release date without his consent. Which are both a) understandable and b) strong, male, angry reactions. Making this section portray Paul in the same one-dimensional hyper-masculine way that John so often is. Which isn't my favorite. But hey, it's my only complaint about this doc so far.

Anyway, update: I won't be able to do part three until it gets reuploaded, so we're on hiatus for this project for the time being.

[robin-hood-marks]

Connected some dots

This is 100% going to be something that's incredibly obvious to a lot of people, so bare in mind my stupidity, but I was just thinking about the book and had a little thought.

So, we all know that the novel itself is a critique of the pretentious nature of 'intellectuals'; of how most of them (us, maybe) believe themselves as of greater importance and see themselves to be separate to 'normal' people. Well, I was just thinking over Bunny's character and recently I've seen some things on here about how he really isn't this big malicious character he's made out to be by the narrative but just a college kid doing college kid things and I thought, hm, wasn't he the dumbest too?

Stay with me lol

I remember it being mentioned that Bunny was either dyslexic or something along those lines, had the others do his homework and was older than them because he was held back a few grades in his earlier years of school. Now, taking in mind the overall point of the novel, it makes sense that he's villainised because he doesn't fit with their image of what makes them special or above everyone else. Bunny is just a young guy who wants to be cool and fit the images people have of him, and is murdered because he doesn't fit their criteria of what it is to be better.

It's a reoccurring theme whilst he is actually alive that the group looks down on him for being the least intelligent, the least capable, but they themselves aren't all that brilliant at the things they claim to be. With the exception of Henry (whom I could write a whole analysis on, but I'll spare you that), the group aren't that great at Latin or Greek or any of the things they study. Firstly, everyone's favourite line "Cubitum eamus?" is just a very weird translation of what he's trying to say and, while it makes some sense, isn't technically the way one would ask that question. Plus, the way Richard is introduced to the group (when they're all working on the tenses of something, I think?), I remember seeing someone talk about how that's not really all that complicated if you're actually good at the language? Not entirely sure about that one, so forgive me. I just find it all incredibly ironic that they revile and brutally murder someone for essentially being slightly less intelligent than them, when they themselves aren't all that genius. That's not even to mention how they worship people they perceive as smarter.

In short, Bunny was just a guy who was trying to be clever and cool. He fell in with a bunch of precociously mature, self-righteous intellectuals and understandably freaked out when they ritualistically murdered a man. I might dislike him, but I'll defend him.

Anyways rambles of a madwoman over, enjoy your day!

[italoniponic]

𝓑𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓒𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 - mini-project

Flower Feelings

| Notes: this is based on a request by @that-one-fanperson about a Reader who leaves flowers on some of the boys desks without telling them or just leaving a note. I wrote for Silver and Azul (as the request) and Epel as my own choice. But I liked this so much that I might write for some of the others as well? (I made this for Ortho but in platonic format~) For this one we’ll have Idia, Kalim, Ruggie and Cater :D

Idia Shroud, Kalim Al Asim, Ruggie Bucchi, Cater Diamond x gender neutral reader / headcanons / fluff / flower language / crush to lovers / use of “you” pronouns / part 2 of "Flower Feelings"

Idia was in shock. Complete shock. At the same time, he was terribly confused. Precisely the day when his presence was mandatory in the classroom and the first thing he finds on his table is a white daffodil with its yellow trumpet and a branch of mint with a note. “Narcissus: respect, unmatched love, introvert; Mint: virtue.” A surprise item combo, no doubt about it;

Only Cater bothered to ask whose flowers they were — although he himself had an intuition of who might have put them there. The poor otaku, on the other hand? Perhaps more than finding the plants themselves it was the fact that he was approached about it that made him annoyed. Why couldn’t the classmate be a normal NPC who doesn’t vocalize his questions directly to the person in the scene? If it was Idia in his place, he would have kept the question to himself;

Truth be told, walking down the stairs and hallways with the daffodil and mint in hand — he pitied simply stuffing them in his coat or throwing them away because they looked so pretty — didn’t help much. Idia wanted to hide his presence from people, but the bright-colored flower and refreshing-smelling green herb made him stand out from the general crowd. But he was won over by the aesthetics of both plants, put in the worst of the double spell attacks;

And, well, Idia had discovered a while ago that narcissus was his favorite flower. Oh, and mints were cool too. These discoveries were due to the time Idia was spending with you lately. What started as a mere bump into the comic book store because you were fascinated by the use of flower language in manga has turned into you talking more often — virtually and in person — and turning into friends;

Idia didn’t even expect to connect with you so much at first, but here he was thinking more about flowers and how companies should pay to use you as a reference in SSR groovy event cards. He would never admit out loud that he had fallen in love with you. Madly, profoundly. If only he was lucky enough that you were the one who left the flowers for him;

In fact, if Idia wanted a miracle from zero, Olympus granted this opportunity. You two met on the way from the Mystery Shop, you making your way back while tying a blue ribbon in a large bouquet with two similar but distinct flowers in color — one part was red, the other was a purplish blue. You were so focused on making the bow that you ended up bumping into Idia;

It was a mess of petals and nervousness. No one was around to try to understand if the worst was Idia having an internal attack for holding you in his arms or you, who weren’t expecting to meet him so early that day. It took a while for any coherent word to be uttered by either party;

Then, in the end, Idia pulled himself together — what was he? A shy shoujo male lead by any chance? — and tried to strike up a conversation. Well, he just pointed at the crumpled bouquet you were holding and muttered something that you could only understand as a question. The situation proceeded to be complete chaos because you simply put the bouquet in his arms and ran away;

Idia stood still, shocked and panicked, reaching out pathetically forward in a vain attempt to reach you. Did all this really happen? He took a look at the bouquet, slowly recognizing the flowers arranged there. They were salvias. You had seen it a month ago in a manga — it must have been where you got your inspiration from buying them;

Suddenly, Idia remembered that at that time he had discovered the meaning of the types of salvias that appeared on that same manga cover and was going to share it with you if he hadn’t accidentally forgotten. But as he pulled out his phone and checked the meaning of the salvias, your panting voice spoke next to him: “Blue salvias mean ‘I’m thinking of you’... and red, that you’ll be ‘mine forever’...”;

The fright Idia took that day can only be described as something of epic proportions, to say the least. You suddenly appeared, having rushed headlong back to confess yourself properly and the deep meaning of the salvias you had delivered into his hands. “I d-don’t know... if my heart can take any of this...,” Idia said, hiding his face inside the bouquet. You were happy to notice that, similar to the salvias, his hair was a mix of vibrant blue and pink.

Kalim thought it was strange to find a small flower bouquet on his table. It was flowers that he had never seen, its yellow petals open like umbrellas and the core was a deep red like his eyes — it almost looked like a little sun! The card that came with it said “Coreopsis: means always cheerful.” At first, Kalim thought it was a gift from Silver, but the friend himself din’t know where the coreopsis had come from;

Kalim was amused by the prospect that the situation had now become a mystery. He put all the coreopsis in the button holes of his sweater and went in search of answers around the school. Since the ghosts hadn’t seen who left the flowers, Kalim eventually went to the most competent person in the botanical subject he knew…;

No, it wasn’t Jamil. Flowers attract insects, so the Scarabia vice-leader tried to live with as few plants nearby as possible. But you didn’t have that problem so much — not that Kalim knew. So he came radiant in Ramshackle, like the morning Sun, and asked you about the flowers;

Kalim didn’t seem at all suspicious of your nervous and apprehensive behavior, even when you ended up unintentionally showing the same coreopsis that he had on his clothes. Kalim was simply fascinated by those flowers and their joyful meaning. And of course, their cute appearance;

Kalim’s positive, energy-filled air didn’t fail to cheer you up. Exactly the reaction you wanted from him. You two ended up distracting yourselves by talking about flowers, arrangements and many other things — as was usual between you — and in the end, it was when Kalim returned to Scarabia that he realized that he didn’t ask if you would know who left the flowers on his table;

That evening, Kalim arranged the flowers in a pot of water, despite the fact that it was already half wilted, and placed them near his window. He had a certain hope that the Sun would help it to pull itselves together a little bit. But as he faced the starry night from his dorm room, he had another thought. It would be so cool if you were the person who left these flowers. He would be even happier if it could mean something more;

A few days passed, and Kalim found himself walking around the school alone in a certain afternoon. Then he found you in the woods, sitting thoughtfully on the grass and with a different flower in your hand. If Kalim hadn’t known that it was probably a flower, he would have thought that you were tightly holding a very crumpled white handkerchief;

His sudden appearance ended up surprising you again. A little awkwardly, you invited Kalim to sit next to you — which he gladly accepted — and showed him the white carnation you had grown in your garden. Kalim thought it was amazing how that flower’s petals looked like his hair, a strong white like ivory;

“White carnation...,” you swallowed hard, trying to control your nervousness. It was only to speak a few words, you couldn’t even be sure that Kalim would understand your feelings. “... it... means innocence, a pure and sweet love. L-like you.” You then looked away, purposefully inattentive to his reaction;

What a pity, honestly. Kalim had such a cute expression of understanding, then an flustered embarrassment and all this turned entirely into pure joy. Kalim didn’t even know what to do. If he would scream to the world how happy you made him, if he should call Jamil to prepare a party in Scarabia to celebrate or if he could call the magic carpet for you two to fly through the skies;

What really happened was this: Kalim put the white carnation on you, resting the flower on your ear, and gave you a kiss on the cheek. “This is the best gift I’ve ever received and the most precious treasure I'll ever have,” Kalim said, with a light, sweet smile on his lips. You ended up laughing together, sharing this precious and humble moment.

Ruggie knew that someone other than Rook must have discovered that he used dandelions in salads and tea for his own consumption, but this was the first time anyone was teasing him about it. Well, “teasing” was one way to put it. All he found on his table that morning was a handful of dandelions and a few sprigs of coriander, all tied by a bow with a card on the side;

The hyena-boy took the card with a scowl, but soon the bad mood gave way to confusion because he read positive things written on the paper — that is, the meanings of those plants. Dandelions meant “fidelity and joy” while Coriander meant “hidden worth”. Who had actually done that, Rook Hunt?;

Since Ruggie wasn’t the type to throw any food away, he brought the coriander and dandelions to Savanaclaw’s kitchen and prepared a small snack with the leftovers from lunch. As he shredded the leaves from the herbs, an intuition that this event may had nothing to do with the hunter bothered him more and more;

By the time Ruggie finished it all and was already enjoying his humble meal, sitting on the dorm porch and gazing out at the sparsely vegetated landscape, he had already decided that you were the one behind it all. At least, from the people who worked with gardening, you would have all this special care to leave him an explanation about the plants. But to what end?;

Ruggie was versed with nature in regard to the properties of plants and their culinary use. Grandma Bucchi used to say that “if you are lucky enough to find something edible, don’t let it slip out of your hands.” However, he understood the decorative meaning and value of flowery messages as much as he understood you — in short, not much. But it was different from things he wasn’t normally used to;

Your way of being was simply fascinating to Ruggie. Your concern with plants and your care in cultivating them only contributed to his impression that you would have an easy time caring for other people as well. Sometimes Ruggie would catch himself imagining you on his land, playing with the children he cared for on the grass, and making crowns of stems and flowers of all kinds. It wasn’t a bad vision;

He carried that thought as he headed to the classroom 2-B, early that morning. Ruggie had woken up with the Sun and, on another way, it was to find out if you were going to leave anything else on his desk again. It wouldn’t hurt to try. But luck did smiled on him that day because you were right there where he wanted;

You were concentrated, arranging on his table a bouquet full of small flowers that looked like bowls, variegated in pink, blue and red, and you had a real letter in hand — not a simple note like last time. From the classroom’s door, Ruggie whistled and frightened you with the announcement of his presence. He couldn’t contain a laugh;

It was inevitable Ruggie would ask what you were doing. But as you were taken by surprise, no coherent sentence would form in your mind. Then it remained only to hand over the paper in your hands to him. Ruggie took the letter and began to read your words, presumably about the bouquet flowers;

“Morning Glory: if it’s pink, it means love, romance and gratitude. If it’s blue, it means strong emotions, infinite love. If it’s red, it means a strong heart. But above all, this little flower that dies at night and reborn with the Sun is all the love and affection I feel for you that is renewed every day.” And your name was written at the end. It was simple writing, not exactly a poem. But conveyed your feelings completely;

You saw that Ruggie felt awkward after reading, a mixture of embarrassed and flustered because you went to all this trouble to give a gift to someone like him — who didn’t understand the language of flowers at all. However, as Ruggie approached you and left the paper on the table, he had a docile smile under his slight red checks. “First food, now your own heart, huh? You’re spoiling me too much, aren’t you?,” Ruggie teased and you both laughed.

The day had dawned as usual for Cater. He washed his face, got ready to give the best smile he could before breakfast, and started taking some pictures of his daily morning routine — #morningtuesdayslowkeysuck. But when Cater eventually came into the classroom and took his eyes off his phone, he found something quite different on his desk: a hibiscus flower;

Cater knew that hibiscus flowers were very common in tropical places and precisely for this reason it was a flower widely used in beach photos. Even without knowing why some anonymous person would leave a hibiscus on his desk, Cater took the flower, put it in his hair and took a photo. When he sat down, he then noticed a small note that was under the flower that said “delicate beauty”. What is the meaning of that flower?;

Cater spent the day pondering about the hibiscus. That one was an especially interesting type, its petals were white with yellow edges and the inside had a powerful pink, almost beet-red. It really matched his aesthetic. Whoever gave him the hibiscus really appreciated his style — that’s what Cater thought as he crossed paths with you in the hallway;

You took a picture together with the hibiscus and Cater couldn’t help but notice that you were a little happier than usual. You said goodbye and he tried to disguise that he wanted to ask you the reason for your smile. Whether it was for the flower — since you loved gardening — or whether it was for having met with him... which ended up taking him on a little tangent;

Was it you who left the flower on his desk? You were the person he talked to the most lately and your little hobby gave you plenty of opportunities. Were you comparing Cater to a hibiscus? Especially with that bicolor that represented the fact that he hid a little bit of himself sometimes, parts that sometimes you noticed before he could stop it;

It was what motivated Cater to meet you one day at Ramshackle while you tended to some vases to spruce up the dorm’s porch. He caught you humming a little tune to yourself, arranging some pretty little flowers. They looked like purple daisies, if Cater dared to use such a blunt description when it came to your flowers;

Cater had a particular admiration for the way you took care of your garden. Your care was reflected in the plants’ overall beauty and that would be enough to make you an influential profile in Magicam. On the other hand, Cater liked to be one of a few for which you showed your progress even when your vase or flowers had some defect;

You finally noticed Cater behind you, and without much planning, you showed him the pot of asters you were growing — and was actually thinking of giving it to him as a gift. Cater gave a big, genuine smile with your gesture, then asked the meaning of the asters in your hands;

“Well…,” you took a deep breath, uncertain, but regaining your courage. “They mean delicacy, loyalty, unpredictability, contentment and... they’re a symbol of love too, can you believe it?”. At this, you passed the small vase into Cater’s hands, hoping he would understand what you meant by those words. And, oh geez, he understood;

Few things can make Cater truly speechless and your confession made it onto the list. Cater couldn’t even describe what he was feeling. He would have been more sure if he had gotten lost and found a field of talking flowers. Although, he would have rejected those flowers’ feelings — no matter how beautiful their petals or their voice — because there was already someone in his heart;

“You really break me sometimes...,” Cater covered part of his face with the back of one of his hands but his smile was still quite visible. “That’s one of the things I love about you.” He left the vase on the floor and took your hand, the most beautiful flower anyone could give him.

| Special notes: I'm planning to do more of these in a very far-away future but yeah, we never know lol also, OMG I missed writing something for Kalim and Idia. Even for Ruggie. Cater was easy and fun to do too, I confess. This is so fun to me~ |