#but otherwise. he doesn't even know this kind of thing is going on

[kashverse]

𝒴our first encounter with the 呪術廻戦 men 

⪩⪨ ✶ implied f!reader but can be read otherwise (use of "pretty" in choso's version), strangers to lovers, fluff, featuring ♡ canon! gojo, canon! geto, single dad! toji, modern au! choso, canon! sukuna in a modern au, corporate! nanami ✿ ⪩⪨ tried a new formatting style..! ib my dear @norikuna (∩˃o˂∩)♡

gojo doesn’t see you coming. not because he’s oblivious—though, sure, that’s part of it—but because he’s too busy making himself miserable, listening to some poor bastard on the phone cry about their ex. it’s barely noon, the sun’s out, people are living their lives, and this guy’s talking about how he let “the one” slip through his fingers. “bro, just get another one,” gojo had said, dead-eyed, waiting for the crosswalk light to change. the response was more crying. he sighed, hanging up.

and then he smacked straight into you.

not a polite bump, not even a nudge—full-on body collision, your forehead meeting his chin with a sharp crack. the impact was enough to send you both stumbling, but while gojo’s built like a brick wall, you had all the misfortune of being knocked back a few steps. “ow—what the fuck?!” your voice came first, and then, through the dizzying pain, you saw him. tall, white-haired, stupidly good-looking in an insufferable way, dressed like he was on some model’s off-day. sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, and even through the slight daze, you could see the sharp glint of his blue eyes peering down at you.

“ah, my bad—”

“your bad?” your voice rose, disbelieving. the pain hadn’t even settled yet, but your temper had. “you nearly took my head off!”

gojo blinked. “well, technically, if i took your head off, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” he pointed out. “unless you’re a talking head, which would be—"

“are you serious?” you cut him off, hands flying up in exasperation. “you’re just standing in the middle of the damn sidewalk—”

“crosswalk,” he corrected.

“—like a fucking lamppost,” you barreled on, ignoring him. “and then you hit me. no, actually, you collided with me like a fucking train, and now you’re just standing there?”

you looked ready to kill him. gojo thought you looked radiant. people don’t really yell at him. they get nervous, flustered, awkward. maybe they complain a little, but they don’t yell. not like this—not with this kind of raw, unfiltered rage that was directed solely at him.

and he was loving it.

“ohhh, you’re mad mad,” he said, grinning.

“no shit?” you spat, rubbing your forehead. “you’re huge! why do you walk like you don’t know how to control your own size?”

“i’m huge? that’s a compliment,” he mused. “also, you ran into me.”

“i did not—"

“you did, but it’s okay,” he waved off. “i forgive you.”

your mouth dropped open. your jaw clenched so hard you swore you heard it click. “i don’t need your forgiveness,” you snapped. “i need you to watch where the hell you’re going!” gojo just smiled. “i can do that,” he said. “but only if you tell me your name first.”

you squinted at him. “why?”

“so i know what to say in my apology,” he said smoothly. “y’know, something heartfelt, real personal. ‘i’m so sorry, dear stranger, for running into you with my big, strong, muscular body—’”

your scowl deepened. “forget it,” you turned to leave, shaking your head.

gojo grabbed your wrist. lightly, like he was afraid you’d shake him off (which you probably would). “wait,” he said, less teasing this time, more curious.

you stopped, staring at him warily. “what?”

he grinned. “you’re fun.”

you yanked your arm out of his grip. “you’re annoying.”

but you weren’t yelling anymore. and maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.

toji doesn't believe in love—at least, not in the way people like to romanticize it. to him, love has always been transactional. people want things: security, pleasure, a warm body to cling to at night. he provides, they take. simple.

commitment? fuck no. he’s been there, done that, and all it got him was a headache and a kid who looks at him like he’s a walking disappointment. not that he blames megumi—he knows exactly the kind of man he is. relationships, from what he's seen, are just another job. another obligation. more shit to deal with when he's already stretched thin making sure megumi doesn't starve or turn into a little menace. and he's already got enough on his plate. 

raising megumi is work. the kid is sharp, stubborn, and way too perceptive for his own good. keeping up with him is exhausting. fulfilling someone else’s expectations on top of that? hell no.

people ask if he’s lonely. he laughs. lonely? he’s got freedom. no nagging, no obligations, no answering to anyone but himself and, on the worst days, a grumpy eight-year-old who somehow thinks he’s smarter than him. love, in his experience, is just a distraction. and toji fushiguro doesn’t do distractions.

and toji swears he only looked away for a second.

he was just checking the damn price tag on some overpriced brand of instant noodles, and when he looked back, megumi was gone. poof. like a magic trick, except it wasn’t a trick, and the rising panic in his chest was very, very real. “shit,” he muttered, scanning the aisles. nothing. just a bunch of old ladies and college kids looking for cheap meals. no messy black hair, no tiny scowl. he ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep calm. he didn’t want to make a scene. people lost their kids all the time, right? it wasn’t a big deal. he just had to—

and then he saw him.

megumi was at the end of the next aisle, small hands clenched at his sides, his mouth pressed in a thin, stubborn line, like he wasn’t scared, even though he definitely was. and right next to him, crouched down to his level, was you. “you’re really good at this,” you said. megumi blinked up at you. “huh?”

“the whole ‘not panicking’ thing,” you smiled at him. “most kids freak out when they lose their parents. you’re staying calm. that’s cool.” megumi looked away, like he wasn’t sure if that was actually a compliment or not. “i don’t wanna cause trouble,” he muttered.

“aw, but that’s what parents are for,” you teased. “causing them trouble.” megumi almost smiled. almost. toji, still frozen in place, narrowed his eyes. who the hell were you?

“c’mon, let’s go find your dad,” you said, standing up and holding out a hand. megumi didn’t take it, but he followed you anyway, his short legs working hard to keep up with your pace. and toji? well. he wasn’t sure why, but instead of stepping forward, he let you find him.

he let you do the whole thing, watching as you walked with megumi, asking him questions—where he last saw his dad, what his name was, what he looked like.

“he’s really tall,” megumi said. you hummed. “tall, huh? that helps.”

“and he’s got a scar on his mouth,” he added.

“even better. anyone who looks scary is easier to spot.”

megumi frowned a little. “he’s not scary.” you smiled, ruffling his hair. “i bet he isn’t.”

toji snorted under his breath.

by the time you turned the corner and finally spotted him, megumi exhaled in relief. toji pretended not to notice how fast he ran up to him, grabbing the fabric of his shirt like he wasn’t just saying how calm he was. you, on the other hand, stopped a few steps away, hands on your hips. “you must be the scary, not-scary dad,” you said.

toji raised an eyebrow. “and you’re just a random saint, huh?” you shrugged. “not a saint. just someone who doesn’t like seeing kids upset.”

he looked at you, really looked at you. you didn’t seem put out by any of this, like helping some stranger’s kid wasn’t an inconvenience, but just another part of your day. like it was normal. toji let out a breath, then tilted his head down at megumi. “you good, kid?”

megumi nodded, though he still wasn’t letting go of toji’s shirt. toji sighed, glancing back at you. “guess i owe you, huh?”

you waved him off. “don’t worry about it. just keep an eye on him next time.”

toji huffed a laugh. “easier said than done.”

you grinned, giving megumi one last look before turning to leave. and toji? well. maybe being responsible for two people wouldn’t be so bad after all.

nanami never thought much about being single. it wasn’t a matter of pride or principle—just reality. his job was time-consuming, his patience was thin, and the thought of entertaining someone else’s needs after a long workday felt exhausting. he wasn’t lonely, just… fine. indifferent.

until he got sick of his office food.

“this is inedible,” he said flatly, staring at the sad excuse of a meal on his plate. his colleague, barely looking up from his own tray, mumbled, “it’s fine.”

nanami’s eye twitched. it was not fine. rubbery chicken, dry rice, and a soup that tasted more like dishwater than anything edible. this was not a meal—it was a punishment.

so, he made a change.

he found a small business that delivered homemade meals, something personal but convenient. it promised variety, quality ingredients, and, most importantly, flavor.

what he didn’t expect were the notes.

the first one came tucked under the neatly packed meal.

“hope today isn’t too exhausting! eat well!”

nanami stared at it for longer than he should have. then, at the food—real food. properly cooked, properly seasoned, steaming with warmth that no canteen meal could ever replicate. he didn’t think about it much. a kind gesture, that was all. but the notes kept coming.

“long meetings? i packed extra today.”

“rainy day! hope this brings some warmth.”

“rough week? your food will always be good at least.”

and then—

“your order is always so precise. you must be someone who likes routine.”

nanami paused mid-bite. he did like routine. he thrived on it. and yet, this—this unexpected kindness, these little messages—was beginning to throw him off in a way he couldn’t explain. weeks passed, meals came, and nanami found himself looking forward to them—not just for the food, but for the words that came with it. one afternoon, after another insufferable meeting, he opened his meal to find:

“do you ever take breaks? hope you’re not working too hard.”

he let out a breath, something between a sigh and a laugh. he was working too hard. but how did you—someone he’d never met—seem to know that better than the people around him? finally, curiosity got the better of him. he grabbed a pen and, for the first time, wrote back.

“who are you?”

the next day, his meal came with a note, just like always.

“just someone who wants you to eat well. but i wouldn’t mind knowing who you are too.”

and for the first time in a long time, nanami thought—maybe being single wasn’t so fine after all.

geto doesn’t believe in love. not in the way people romanticize it, anyway. he’s known desire—used it, wielded it like a tool, a means to an end. a well-timed smile, a hand grazing a wrist, a whispered promise—all of it was just another step in expanding his cause. people were easy to sway when you made them feel special. and being single? it wasn’t something he mourned. it was efficient. no attachments, no complications, no wasted energy. everything he did, every conversation, every encounter—it all served a purpose.

until you.

“you’ve been talking for a while,” you said, tilting your head at him. geto smiled. “am i boring you?”

“not at all. just wondering if you’re going to get to the point.”

he chuckled, swirling his drink. clever. impatient. interesting.

“what do you think my point is?”

you leaned back, thoughtful. “well, you’re charming, you have that practiced ease of someone who’s very used to getting what they want, and yet…” you narrowed your eyes. “you haven’t tried to get anything from me yet.”

his smile twitched. perceptive too. “maybe i’m just enjoying the conversation.”

“hmm.” you didn’t look convinced. “i doubt you talk to people without a reason.”

he laughed, shaking his head. “you wound me. am i not allowed to simply appreciate good company?”

you smirked. “do you?”

and that was the problem, wasn’t it? he did.

he was supposed to be recruiting you. that was why he approached you in the first place—he had assessed, observed, picked you out for your potential. another piece in his grander vision. but now? now, he was talking to you about books, about philosophy, about things that had nothing to do with his cause.

he liked your sharp tongue, your quick comebacks, the way you saw through people but humored them anyway. and he was enjoying this. more than he should.

“you’re thinking too hard,” you noted.

“am i?”

“yeah. for someone who flirts so easily, you seem oddly distracted.”

he chuckled, shaking his head. you had no idea. for the first time in a long time, geto suguru had forgotten his purpose. and strangely enough, he didn’t mind.

choso doesn’t really get love. it’s not that he doesn’t feel it—he does, deeply, messily, all-consuming in the way only someone who has lived too long without it can. it’s just that he doesn’t understand how it’s supposed to work. his friends talk about relationships like they’re puzzles, like you’re supposed to fit into someone else’s life piece by piece, no gaps, no edges sticking out. but choso? he keeps forcing the wrong pieces together. he’s had his heart broken by so many situationships, and he doesn’t even know what that word means. all he knows is that people like him enough to stay for a while, but not enough to stay forever. and when someone ghosts him? it’s over.

“why would they do that?” he asks yuuji, completely distraught. “i thought we were getting along.” yuuji winces. “yeah, but… sometimes people just disappear, man. it’s not your fault.”

“but why not just say they don’t like me?”

“because people suck.”

choso frowns. love is confusing. people are confusing. nothing makes sense.

until he meets you.

more specifically, until you send a pug flying in his direction. one second, he’s minding his own business, sipping a coffee, staring blankly at nothing. the next—

“watch out!”

and then—THUD.

a very round, very squishy pug collides with his chest, knocking the air out of him. he blinks. looks down. the pug is fine. choso, however, is shaken.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry,” you pant, running up to him, looking horrified. “he’s got the speed of a missile and the weight distribution of a sack of potatoes. are you okay?”

choso is still holding the pug. he has not processed a single thing except that you’re talking to him, and you’re really pretty. you snap your fingers in front of his face.

“hello? earth to guy who just got body slammed by my dog?”

he swallows. “i—i’m okay.”

you sigh in relief. “good. i don’t think my insurance covers ‘pug-related assaults.’”

he stares. then—

he laughs.

it’s an awkward, slightly delayed laugh, but it’s real. it bubbles out of him, because suddenly, everything is just… simple. you’re still talking, apologizing, trying to pry your dog from his grip, and he realizes—love doesn’t have to be this big, complicated thing. it can be a stranger, a runaway pug, and a stupidly perfect moment where he thinks, 'oh. this is it.'

sukuna has never cared for love. love is mortal, fleeting, an indulgence for the weak. he has lived for centuries without it, conquered, destroyed, thrived—all on his own. why bother with attachment? why waste time on something that promises nothing but vulnerability? he’s always been perfectly fine like this.

until the night he meets you at the bar.

he doesn’t even mean to notice you at first—just another human in a crowded room, laughing, talking, lighting up the space with an ease he’s never possessed. 

and then he hears you speak. your voice is smooth, effortless, like you’re meant to be heard. every sentence flows into the next, words never fumbling, never uncertain. you make people laugh, pull them in, keep them hanging on to every syllable. sukuna watches, listens, enthralled, before someone leans in and calls you by name—your full name. followed by—

“aren’t you that talk show host?”

and it clicks. you are. he’s seen your face before, flickering on a television screen, a passing glimpse at a life so far removed from his own.

and now he’s irritated. because you talk so easily with everyone but him. and that won’t do.

so he tries. for the first time in centuries, he tries to talk to someone—like a normal person, like it’s something he’s done before, like it’s as easy as you make it look.

but it’s not. it’s a disaster.

he waits until the crowd around you has thinned, takes the seat next to you, and—

“so.” he clears his throat. “you talk to people for a living.”

you turn, blinking, mildly amused. “i do.”

he nods, confident. good start. then nothing. his mind goes blank. shit.

you raise a brow, waiting. sukuna glares at his drink like it’s betrayed him. “how do you do it?”

you tilt your head. “do what?” he gestures vaguely. “talk. keep people engaged.”

you blink. “are you asking me how to hold a conversation?”

his jaw tenses. “no.”

you laugh. he scowls.

he tries again. “what makes a good interview?”

“oh, that’s easy,” you hum. “you have to be genuinely interested in the other person.”

he deadpans.

you smirk. “which means you have to actually listen to what they’re saying.”

“i listen,” he grumbles.

“really?” you lean in. “then what were we just talking about?”

silence. your smirk widens. “you weren’t listening.”

he groans, dragging a hand down his face. this is hell.

but he keeps trying. keeps failing, keeps making an idiot of himself, keeps suffering through every one of your knowing smiles—because for the first time in his miserable, ancient existence, he actually wants to learn.

he wants to talk to you.

and maybe, just maybe, he wants you to talk to him, too.

[kiyo-cant-write]

Imagine octavinelle with a shrimp merman ? I don't remember if they are actually called that 😭😭

octavinelle with shrimp merman ✧･ﾟ

Thank you for requesting! I am sorry this took so long. Uni makes me literally want to cry sometimes when it keeps me from finishing things. Also happy Valentine's Day!! 💕 🍫 🍬 Lol, it's 1:30am in the morning for me! I'm sleeping now! Enjoy~!

If I made a mistake, please do request again btw!

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Summary: The reader is a shrimp merman. What does Octavinelle think of their classmate?

TW/CW: Just some tweel-typical implied violence/bothering

Notes: pre-relationship, male reader, he/him pronouns for the reader, the reader is NOT Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, the reader is explicitly in Octavinelle and a first-year at NRC

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[Name] is a shrimp merman, not an uncommon species but not a common one either. Growing up in the Coral Sea, he is now among the students at NRC who attended "land camp" to learn how to walk among humans in a form gained by taking a special potion.

Once he arrived at Night Raven College, he was promptly sorted into the dorm of the benevolent Sea Witch, Octavinelle. It was there that he met the housewarden and his... assistants? Associates?

Just what kind of place is this??

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Azul Ashengrotto

Azul doesn't feel any which way about [Name] being a shrimp merman though he does note there aren't many of them.

Even back home, he had only heard of a handful (maybe)

The real annoyance sets in when the twins decide this is a perfect reason to pick on or otherwise bother [Name].

While Azul tolerates it to a degree, Floyd takes it too far.

Azul ends up having to step in and that is where the friendship begins between [Name] and Azul.

Meet cute where boss saves you from his minions-

Azul is a surprisingly caring friend when he genuinely likes someone. He might seem a bit detached at times but the boy is just scared of getting hurt again like when he was younger.

Azul sometimes forgets [Name] is a shrimp merman.

Azul tries not to think about being an octomer.

He may or may not be projecting this onto [Name] as well.

All in all, Azul doesn't mind [Name].

[Name]'s species doesn't affect how he sees him.

He would only worry if the other merman seemed to know of his past. Then he would force him to sign an NDA.

Azul was not expecting to find a shrimp merman in his lounge before opening and being just about harassed by not one eel but two. Floyd, he could ignore. When was Floyd not doing something vastly inappropriate for the situation because it seemed "fun"? But Jade knew better. Or, in Azul's mind, he did. However, the octomer was reconsidering that sentiment as he watched the shrimpmer get tossed between Jade and Floyd.

Right, left. Right, left. Right...

"Jade, Floyd," Azul spoke in a firm tone of voice as he walked over to the twins, "What exactly are you doing to this person?"

He saw Floyd let out a sigh at being caught whereas Jade simply smirked a closed-mouth smile that made Azul vaguely uneasy (a natural response to Jade Leech in these situations). Both of them, however, made no moves to let go of the other boy.

"The two of you have work to be doing," Azul reminded, teeth gritted as he wanted to smack at least one of them (probably Floyd).

"We do, but this seems like such fun," Jade responded.

"Yeah! You never let us do anything fun, Azul," Floyd added.

The octomer sighed this time, shooting them a glare. They knew he might do something they didn't like if they pushed him enough. And that wasn't something either twin would risk just for a few minutes of fun, maybe for something more worthwhile, but not just throwing an underclassman around. That would never be "worth it" to them.

"Jade, Floyd, get back to work," Azul told them once more.

"Of course, understood," Jade offered, releasing the grip he had had on the shrimpmer's shoulder at last, "I will do so right away."

Jade seemed keen on pretending he hadn't misbehaved. Azul didn't even want to say anything. He ignored the look of relief that crossed the shrimpmer's face at being let go by at least one of the eels.

"Maa, fine," Floyd agreed a few seconds after Jade, pushing the shrimpmer toward Azul as he spoke, "You play with him, then."

With that, Floyd turned to walk away, not realizing what he had done.

[Name], not expecting to be pushed, went flying toward Azul, who had to reach out at the last minute to catch them. [Name]'s arm got caught in Azul's scarf, and Azul's cane tripped [Name] again... And the two fell to the floor with [Name] having his palms against the cool floor of the lounge and Azul's head pinned between them.

"Ehhh?" Azul managed to let out a sound between surprise and horror as he realized the kind of position they were in.

He could hear the twins snickering, watching instead of returning to their posts before the rush began. He would get them or this later.

"I'm sorry, senpai!" [Name] began, shifting to move away from him and only complicating the position the two were in, "Ah, sorry again..."

"Just..." Azul began, "Just stop it."

He tried to ignore the heat on his cheeks, the deep color his face probably was at this point. He could pretend it wasn't happening if he just waited it out. But he also couldn't. He was in the middle of the floor and customers would arrive soon.

Slowly, he moved to take the other boy's forearms in his gloved hands and push him away from him in the least awkward way possible, all the while hearing the shrimpmer apologize some more.

Once they were disentangled, all the while Floyd and Jade just watched in amusement instead of helping (really, Azul wanted to punch one of them so badly), Azul glanced awkwardly at the shrimpmer before he sighed in defeat and spoke again.

"You may have whatever drink you like for free today," Azul told him.

"Really?" he asked Azul, surprised by the offer.

"It was my employees who did this to you, it's an apology and an offer to buy your silence for what just happened."

It was only the right thing to do, Azul told himself.

"Oh... Oh! I won't tell anyone," [Name] promised, offering a slight smile, "Thank you for the drink, senpai."

"Of course," he told them, still sounding winded and a bit tired.

Oh, yes. Azul would be thankful to head back to his office after this.

"I'm [Full Name] by the way," the shrimpmer added before he found a table and began ordering his drink from one of the twins (Azul really couldn't care less which one was doing it as long as they were working and not harassing random students that wouldn't benefit the lounge in some way-).

But that name stuck in his mind as he returned to his office.

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Jade Leech

Jade is intrigued to an extent but it's nothing special.

Even if they are not common, they are still merpeople. Right?

Jade is far too captivated by the land (though he denies it) to be captivated by something that is so similar to his homeland.

He speaks politely to [Name] and teases him along with Floyd.

But this is normal tweel behavior and not because [Name] is a shrimp merman. Jade doesn't really care about that.

What matters to Jade is [Name]'s interest.

He will be happy if the other boy expresses interest in his club.

Jade's interests are intense and specific.

Something will need to fit into them to have his full attention.

Otherwise, he only focuses on things that apply to "work."

Azul asks him to research so many things.

Being a Vice Housewarden is tiring, you know!

As he gets more comfortable he may mention these sentiments to [Name] but it's unclear if those are real or crocodile tears.

Jade is forever shrouded in mystery as someone very guarded.

"Floyd-senpai called me a snack in the potentially cannibalistic way today," [Name] told Jade as he walked up to him wearing the best kind of outdoor clothes he could muster from his closet (which ended up being PE clothes).

"Oya?" Jade offered, feigning a worried expression for a moment before posing a question, "And what did you say to my brother?"

[Name] shrugged.

"I said I had to meet you for a hike and left," he told Jade, "I was already running late. Sorry about that!"

He laughed slightly, unsure if Jade would be upset or not. They weren't super close friends. [Name] asked Jade if he knew anything about the local flora on the island and Jade had gone on a twenty-minute rant about a local variety of mushrooms. Now they were going on a hike in the mountains near campus to explore.

[Name] didn't know what to expect but Jade was often polite and didn't call him "shrimp" (derogatory) and "snack" (cannibalistic) all the time like his unpredictable brother so this would be alright. Or [Name] thought it would be. Jade wasn't as startling as Floyd was.

The only time that Jade had startled him was when they first met and Jade seemed to know everything about him from age to hobbies. It wasn't the kind of information he was used to people knowing.

Still, it was less scary than Floyd. So he moved on.

Was that a mistake? Maybe.

But now they were on this hike.

"So, senpai," [Name] offered, "Do you do this often?"

It was a genuine question. [Name] had little experience hiking as he lived under the sea until land camp and now school and Night Raven.

"Hiking? I like to," Jade told him, "It's a part of my club at school."

"Your club? One you made?"

[Name] had not heard of this before.

"Something like that. I run the Mountain Lovers Club."

As Jade said the name, [Name] could have sworn he sparkled.

"Mountain lovers... So you must really like mountains?" he asked.

Jade nodded slightly with a grin.

"Something like that, it is more of an appreciation for what nature has to offer us," he explained, leading [Name] along the trail.

Seeing him like this, [Name] wondered what else about this strange island he could learn from Jade-senpai and if this was what Jade was truly like. He seemed much happier and chattier in his club uniform and out walking in the mountains.

Or maybe that was just [Name]'s imagination.

"Senpai! Wait for me!"

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Floyd Leech

Floyd thinks it's funny that [Name] is a shrimp.

They meet at the lounge when Floyd decides "This one looks fun."

He discusses with the Prefect about changing his nicknames around since [Name] is much more a shrimp than Yuu is.

This is a first in Floyd's history. Jade is impressed.

Floyd teases and makes fun of [Name].

Sometimes he will bite them just to scare them, not hard enough to leave a mark or draw blood but enough to startle them.

His excuse is always that he seemed "tasty" looking.

He gets into mock fights with Jade over [Name].

Sometimes the fights become actual scuffles when Floyd decides, "No, actually I do care that you're too close to Shrimpy."

Floyd is so unpredictable it's hard to say if he likes [Name], wants to eat him, or is just messing with everyone.

If [Name] wants to romance this eel, he will have to try harder to get his attention. Floyd can be a little dense at times.

Chaos does that to people.

Floyd is having fun with Shrimpy.

[Name] wasn't sure how it happened. It all happened so quickly. he had just wanted to buy something from the lounge that his dorm apparently ran and now there was a tall teal-haired boy attached to him and not letting go. What was happening? He was so lost.

The whole school was big and he was new! He barely remembered things from orientation and now there was this... this guy! All he wanted was to have a nice drink or a snack at this lounge. That was it. Was he asking for too much? Honestly! Maybe!

"Um... Can you let me go?" the shrimpmer asked, trying to break free and failing once more, "I need to find a table if I can."

He also would like to be able to move freely again.

The toothy smile on the teal-haired boy's face drooped slightly as he pouted at [Name] and whined in an albeit childish way.

"You're no fun! I just wanted to come investigate," the boy told [Name], "You seem like you're merfolk, you know."

[Name]'s face flushed. He had been doing a good job at being human, he thought? Was he not being land-y enough? He was doing exactly what they were taught at camp.

"How did you know?" he asked him.

"You seem like one," was all the boy said.

That didn't answer his question but [Name] didn't want to press for more information, especially in the position that he was in.

He sighed as he gave up struggling against him.

"I'm [Name]. And I'm a shrimp merman... Though I'm still not sure how you knew that," [Name] introduced himself as best he could.

The boy's eyes sparkled to the point [Name] was a bit unnerved.

"Ooh! I'm gonna call you Shrimpy instead of Shrimpy... But then what will I call them instead? Huhh..."

He seemed to think about it and [Name] wondered who the original "Shrimpy" might have been and why they were called that to begin with. Were they shrimp merfolk too? It didn't add up.

"And you are?" [Name] asked after a moment of silence between them, still in the boy's arms even though his grip had loosened.

"Floyd Leech," he said with another grin, still refusing to let go completely.

"Nice to meet you then..." [Name] told him.

Would he really be able to get away from this Floyd guy?

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[lockandkeyblade]

A Little Self-Insert Never Hurt Anybody

That's what Danny tells himself, anyway. It's just, he wasn't expecting the new universe he'd decided to hide in to know about him, and they sort of don't.

But they sort of do, because Danny Phantom is a cartoon about his life that somehow manages to become more and more inaccurate the longer the show went on.

He's really glad it stopped on season 3. He's not sure he could've handled another season 3.

The thing is though, Danny's a 2000's kid himself. He knows that if exists, there's porn of it. So he googles himself and finds a few fan sites, finds the fanfiction, finds a couple people tossing around a few ideas of what ghost society might really be like, and...

It has a decent amount of fans (or Phandom, as they call themselves, and isn't that just embarrassing but also Super Flattering). He's not going to comment on some of the ships (he will never get pearls in his boba tea again, pitch or otherwise) but the thing is, a lot of fans just seem to be really interested in what the show doesn't give them. Not just about his struggles, but the ghosts. What they might really be like, what they might really want.

He shouldn't, but-- hey. There's no GIW here. There's no one who believes this stuff is actually real. And he misses home; misses the Infinite Realms, even if he's not quite ready to go back yet.

So he makes a tumblr, and starts writing. Talking, really. About ghosts and Obsessions, about the rules of engagement and how you never, ever ask a ghost how they died.

His follower count slowly grows, and people start to realize that IceStar14 is one of those people who will answer anything. He very carefully navigates the mindfield that is shipping by telling people to "do what they want"; he can't really stop them, nor does he have the mind to. Despite this, his posts quickly become several thousand word back and forths with mutuals who might not get everything right, but are intuitive enough to get the basics.

It's delightful. It's kind of crazy. Danny can't help but feel...understood, by other, living people, for the first time ever. By people who aren't Jazz, or Sam, or Tuck.

Which is really the only reason why he starts answering the more invasive asks, the ones that are far more personal than people probably expect them to be. He goes from just talking about ghosts to talking about his life, the struggles of learning his powers, the stress of living a double life.

The fallout when his parents discover his halfa status, the-- the things they did to him afterwards. He never brings up the idea of a multiverse, or how he could've gone to hide in one. Somehow, the fanfiction writers figure that out all on their own.

They give him new families and people who understand him, constantly writing stories about him meeting the Justice League, or the BatFam, and--

It's the closest thing he's ever gotten to therapy. It hurts, but people love him. Or, they love the crazy little fantheorist, and they adore Danny Fenton/Phantom. The idea of him being hurt spawns a slew of hurt/comfort content that he genuinely spends hours curled up with, on the good days. Even on the bad.

No one has to know they made him cry. No one has to know how grateful he is, that people think he deserves better. People think he deserves better. Maybe he starts to take care of himself a little more, thanks to that. Maybe sleep comes a little easier, because he doesn't have to lay in bed and try to tell himself he's loved; he can just pick up his phone and scroll a few key tags, and it's right there, on the screen. People love him. People accept him.

It's pretty great.

Slowly but surely, the posts explode. He goes to sleep one night with a couple hundred followers and wakes up the next to several thousands. It's pretty easy to find out why.

Red Robin reblogged a few of his "stories". Nightwing quickly liked a bunch of them. In fact, a good majority of the superhero community that has an online presence has made at least one comment about Danny Phantom. He has no idea how they found him, frantically searching the tags until he finds one that makes his throat go dry.

"If Phantom was real, he'd be a Robin." tumblr user Danny4LJPres suggested. It has 14,000 responses.

One of them is a reblog from RedRobin, who agrees wholeheartedly.

[jynmelshian]

the thing about melshian is that melshi comes across as a very serious, loyal, devoted person who sets his eye on something he wants and does anything he can to get it — unless he knows for sure that he can't. he needs confirmation, or hope, that what he wants is achievable, otherwise he won't even try. hence how he's so adamant to tell cassian that there's no hope of escaping. he's 100% sure there's no point in thinking about it, so he wants to make sure no one else is wasting their time with it. and then this changes when cassian flips the whole operation round on its head and shows him that there IS a way out, there IS a reason to hope. and then melshi shows no hesitation in helping with the escape plan and fighting his way out. he seems to me like someone with quite a one track mind, stubborn but sensible. and then cassian is flighty like this is a core aspect of his character. he doesn't stay in one place, he doesn't stay in one relationship, he's not good at vulnerability, and up until the narkina 5 arc he has run away from every sign that the rebellion IS right and IS his calling and IS the only way to be free. he is deeply loyal to a few select people, but even in those dynamics he finds it hard to commit, and he certainly can't commit to a cause at the beginning of the show. narkina is the first time we see him step up to the mantle, take the reins and fight not only for his own freedom, but for the freedom of everyone around him. before, the acts of rebellion he's taken have been selfishly motivated but also out of loyalty to at least one person: avenging clem as a teenager, and getting money and clearing his name to protect himself and maarva. one could argue that there was still selfish motivations in stirring revolt at narkina, because he wanted to be free and knew that the only way for him to get out would be to take everyone else with him, but i think any potential selfish motivation went out the window when he realised how much he'd need all the help he could get. and it showed that he can be a team player and can be a leader - or at least a stepping stone for other leaders to function and progress the cause.

and who is by his side as he steps into this role? melshi. even with the little glimpse we get into melshi as a man, it's apparent how well they complement each other. the wordless conversations they have, the way cassian's conversations with kino reveal so much about melshi's ideology and the way he expresses himself and what he shares with cassian, it all points to a man of ideals, someone who refuses to conform and maintains his pride and takes shit from no oppressive system. he's untethered because we get no insight into his life outside of narkina, but we understand the level of dedication he shows to the things he cares about, and how he's obviously already fired up and ready to rebel since long before cassian showed up, he just needed a spark. as duncan pow put it, he was waiting for someone like cassian to show up, to show him that someone else does think like him, someone else is not going to stand for how narkina 5 treats them, and that someone is giving melshi permission to stand up. he's sort of the perfect foil for cassian if you think about it. and i do think about it.

and it culminates in the scene on the cliff face: "stop saying that" becomes "tell me they're leaving". if melshi is the no bullshit, won't waste his time on idealism if he doesn't think it's achievable, probably the least optimistic guy but definitely the most headstrong and stubborn, than of course he'd find cassian's constant "they're leaving" at the very least annoying, because he's convinced himself they're going to get caught and he's not going to be able to climb back up. but there's something kind of idealistic about cassian, how he's fundamentally pragmatic but also optimistic, something that's established in the scene where he tells maarva he has enough money for them to "get away". and the loyalty we've only ever seen him show to his family and closest friends on ferrix now extends to his fellow rebel and escapee and manifests as giving hope, and that rubs off on melshi, because how can it not? it actually makes a difference, hearing cassian say they're leaving, even if they're not. it's the hope that counts, and it's the fact that he has someone there as constant reassurance. a constant reminder that he's not in this alone and he no longer needs to hide behind his own rationalisation and pessimism to survive. there really is hope, and cassian is a walking reminder of it.

and to think that they reunite in the rebellion a little way down the line, and die on the same day for the same cause, and it all started in a slave revolt and a prison break and one man giving another man hope. it's a beautiful and underrated dynamic, i think.

[tobiasdrake]

Still thinking about Brave New World. I should note that the film had five writers and extensive reshoots after test screenings. It even changed titles at one point during the re-re-rewriting process, originally being Captain America: New World Order. So that explains why there is some jankiness where things it sets up suddenly go nowhere or certain things seem... oddly handled.

Ross is the biggest victim of this, sometimes feeling like he's flipping back and forth between different creative intents for his character from scene to scene.

That being said, I've seen some criticism that the film repeats TFATWS's problem of having Sam take a position of obnoxious centrism, and I don't think that's true. I think Sam takes a very clear and unambiguous position.

It's just that it's not necessarily about what the fandom might be more interested in talking about. Here we go with spoilers.

Sam doesn't engage much with the adamantium treaty in the film. He does briefly engage with it. He takes the position that going to war with Japan over resources would be bad and Ross should not do that.

But Ross is positioned as being in the right about the treaty from the start. He wants to enact a global agreement between nations to share adamantium with the world rather than any one country hoarding it to themselves. It's a startlingly progressive position both for Ross and for the United States, and makes up the bulk of the film's attempts to make us sympathize with what is otherwise a complete fucking monster of a human being.

Sam, for his part, only really engages with the treaty insofar as trying to hold Ross to what few principles the man has and keep him from being provoked into ruining it.

But Sam Wilson's deal in this movie isn't about international treaties for natural resource allocation.

Sam's deal is about a criminal justice system that is disinterested in justice. It weirdly dances around the topic of race; Isaiah Bradley and also four white guys, it's not about race, there were four white guys too gets arrested for a crime he didn't commit and then the four white guys are immediately killed by the villain so we don't have to ever talk about them again. Uh. Okay.

No reason is ever given why they didn't kill Isaiah too. It's like those guys were literally just there to downplay the optics of a black man being arrested and scapegoated for a crime he didn't commit. Arrested, I should note, by a white authority figure who then tells Sam he's not good enough to wear Steve Rogers's mantle and calls him "son".

You can feel one creative intent trying to talk about a thing and another creative intent going "Oh no but this isn't actually THAT. We don't need to talk about THAT, right?" But we kinda do because that is what the movie's about, for Sam.

That is the unambiguous position that Sam takes. From the moment a bunch of cops surround Isaiah with guns drawn and it's really tense because we know just how bad this can go, that is the political space that Sam occupies.

This man has been arrested for a crime he didn't commit, and even when the truth comes to light, the government is going to let him be put to death for it because it's more politically convenient than the truth. That is what the film wants to talk about. You can even see the throughline between what is being done to Bradley and what was done to Sterns.

Sam tries one time to talk to Ross and say, "Hey man, let's actually investigate this thing properly and find the truth." And when Ross responds by throwing a racist tantrum and telling him to go fuck himself, Sam responds in kind and breaks into government facilities to find out what they're going to kill Isaiah to keep hidden.

Sam takes a very clear position. Isaiah is innocent and Sam's getting him out of there whether the government likes it or not. He is determined to expose the truth and hold power accountable.

It's just that it gets lost in the five-scripts-frenzy of Ross's many conflicting interpretations. Ross's racist tirade? Never comes up again. In fact, at one point, one of the writers has Sam stand there and sympathize with him, saying in a moment of pathos that he knows what it's like to be prejudged by people.

Which is a wild position to write into your script. Like. Yeah, being a black man in America, that's the same as people hating you for the many awful crimes you've committed in your rise to political power. Weird thing to have a character say in an awkward bid for sympathy towards Ross's misguided redemption arc.

But Isaiah's innocence? That the government is about to do something abominable to him, and Sam needs to get him out of there no matter what it takes? The film never wavers on that point.

The movie is basically Captain America: Civil War if the fandom got what they wanted and the Accords were presented front and center above the Bucky story.

[rottmnt-residuum]

So, was April in a Hidden City Prison?

Also, I searched Hueso on your blog and got nothing (maybe Run of the Mill was shown in a part but I forgot).

What's up with bone man? Did the turtles talk with him at all before THE HORRORS happened? What about junior?

I would think he closed up shop cause it was too dangerous not to?

Still reeling from this week's events by the way!

April was just in a holding cell at a police station human side.

Bonemans been gone for a long time, and as nice as the fanon interpretation of him and leo's relationship is... it just doesn't apply here. Ultimately, his main priority is him and his people. Leo isn't his.

I couldn't find a natural place to allude to this in comic, i scrapped like ten different lines in part 25 and a scene in part 11 because it just wasn't flowing right. Eventually, i just kinda gave up as it isn't super important to the plot and is just background information really ahaha

[sskk-manifesto]

\\

[deepspacepunk]

RUBBING MY LITTLE FLY HANDS TOGETHER BECAUSE I'M SO GLAD SOMEONE ASKED

@mephisto-reporting

RAFAYEL

Woof. Rafayel is on a mission to eliminate folks who hurt Lemurians, Oliver is in the nexus of both having hurt a Lemurian and also having saved a Lemurian, so there are complicated feelings there. I was talking with Rori about a comic idea touching upon this. I have 0 drive to get it started, so let me post the outline here so you can kind of grock where I was going.

Text is available upon request. (I know it says Haydes, I use Oliver here for clarity so Oliver is the muse, Haydes is the mun, I use both names. It's complicated, I know)

So yeah on the surface, it can be very cutesy. Both are the type to tease each other and to have fun being little drama queens to each other, but Rafayel has a lot of complex emotions towards Oliver and once Oliver knows who Rafayel is, he is going to feel a bit out of sorts. Not quite betrayed as he knows why Rafayel would keep that hidden but more as a "Oh god, I don't know what to do with this information and I'm so sorry about my involvement with hurting someone you care about".

If they can work past it, that's a bond stronger than steel and Oliver could learn a lot about survival and working under the table from Rafayel. Ultimate spy couple truly. Otherwise, it's a romance that is doomed for tragedy. Rafayel likely really did love Oliver, but he can't stop his goals part way. He'll be taking that heart, dearest, and I don't think Oliver would refuse him.

However, it's the universes where Rafayel and Oliver work together that interest me. They would be the type of folks who are overlooked together. An eccentric artists picks up a weird hunter, yeah that's usually how these things go. Oliver is Rafayel's more buff arm candy to keep him company at these long galleries Thomas has put together. They work in tandem, so don't mind them when they're in place they shouldn't be. When they know a little too much about you. When they're sticking the knife to you. Everything is exactly as it should be.

SYLUS

Oliver would hate that he's fallen for someone like Sylus, and yet it works so well.

Listen, Sylus is a new pathway for Oliver. He is someone who is very stuck in his morals and what he views as right versus wrong, Sylus doesn't work within that paradigm. He exists outside of the law and he does work that Oliver ultimately would consider good, just perhaps the wrong way to go about it.

The biggest thing though is that Oliver already has a foot in that door, whether he views it that way or not. He works with folks in the Nest when necessary to get information, he steals, he lies, he does things he would normally consider to be "bad" actions because the end justifies the means. He can be forgiven for these actions because ultimately Ever shouldn't exist and be allowed to hurt people and if he eliminates Ever, then it was all worth it.

Sylus is someone who can directly challenge that notion and get Oliver to relent and in a way even forgive himself now. He also is a deeply powerful man who has more means of challenging Ever directly, a contact that Oliver really needs.

And then there is the fact that Sylus is smooth, he's charming, he knows exactly what Oliver desires. Sylus likes a lot of the same things that Oliver does. He is the perfect man to orchestrate Oliver's downfall here. He's going to be lying awake in his bed looking at gifts that Sylus gave him and realize that not only is he ready to break away from life in Linkon for this man, but that he actually likes if not loves Sylus.

It's messy and I fucking love it.

[[ Does anyone want to hear the way I see ships with the LIs going down Oliver?? ]]

[dootznbootz]

There's something so specifically infuriating when someone uses one of your experiences or your demographic in an argument, especially if said argument is about spreading hatred or is just so wrong. They "speak on behalf of the ___" to say such fucked shit.

"You're not thinking of the ___!"

"I literally am ___. You saying that adds nothing as you do not speak for me or for other ___. Shut up."

[luvcaleb]

YOU'RE MINE.

nsfw (18+). includes aphrodisiacs, dry humping, rubbing cock over panties, possessive!caleb, caleb is gentle at first until you piss him off, this is basically ‘testing caleb's patience: the fic’, unprotected sex, creampie, i have to mention that caleb is possessive twice because caleb says some freaky stuff, sappy confession during sex, happy (horny) ending <3 likes and reblogs will be very helpful !!

Caleb doesn't accept love letters and chocolates whenever Valentine's Day comes along. However, girls directly stuff them into his bag without his knowledge sometimes, and you take it upon yourself to eat the sweets because Caleb would just throw it straight to the trash otherwise.

“It's a waste,” you'd always say. “You might not like them back, but they still made the effort to make chocolate for you.”

And then Caleb would shake his head, frowning, “Though most of them mean well, sometimes they put weird stuff in the food. So if I were you, I'd spit out that cupcake, pipsqueak.”

You usually don't heed his warnings—Caleb's always been kind of an overthinker. Now, though, you regret not listening to him as an unfamiliar heat spreads across your body, your core throbbing as you feel yourself dripping in your panties.

...The panties that's rubbing against Caleb's crotch right now, soaking the fabric of his pants while you grind down on him. Caleb's expression looks like a mix of confusion, worry, and arousal, his hands hovering above your waist as if unsure where to touch you. “Nn— hey, what's gotten into you? Do you even know what you're doing right now?”

You see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he nervously swallows, and you start feeling something poking you at your clothed core. Caleb sits up on the sofa where you pushed him down a while ago, grabbing your hands on his shoulders. “C'mon, tell me. I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong.”

You whimper, your body collapsing on top of his. He quickly scoops you up, one hand holding the back of your head, the other resting on your lower back, ensuring you're properly seated on his thighs.

“I... I feel weird,” you pant, clutching the front of his shirt. “I'm dizzy, and my body is hot all over. My...” you swallow down your embarrassment, “my pussy feels empty... Caleb, can't you help me? Please?”

Almost imperceptibly, his grip on you tightens by a fraction. He sighs, angling your head to make you look at him in the eye. Perhaps it's the trick of the light, but Caleb's face is a flustered pink. “I can't do that. You're going to regret it when you turn back to normal and get all weird about it.” He glances at the chocolates you ate on the table, brows furrowed. “Aphrodisiac chocolate... I should've known. Then you wouldn't have become like this...”

Your mind is in a daze. Your body feels unusually heavy, but your head feels like it's floating. Most of what he said is lost on you, and at this moment, the only thing you can focus on is that Caleb is looking at something else. You grab both of his cheeks, forcibly turning his attention to you. “Please help me, Caleb...” Clumsily, you lift up your hips, pressing your cunt against the tent in his pants. It glistens with your wetness, and Caleb can't help but groan when you rub the tip with your thumb. “It hurts... I need this inside me...”

Caleb has always adhered to your whims, but even he has his limits. He pinches your cheek, “I can't put it inside, idiot, I don't have a condom. I just have to make you cum, right?” He gestures for you to pick up the hem of your skirt, sucking in a breath when he sees how soaked you are. “Fuck....”

The entire crotch area is damp, and if he looks carefully, he can even see the faint shape of your clit. Curiously, he draws circles on it, breathing heavily when a fresh glob of slick stains your underwear. “That's hot...”

He pulls down his zipper, releasing his cock from his boxers. You gasp softly at the sight. He's long and thick, arching to a beautiful curve, colored almost red from the strain of holding back. He gives himself a few experimental pumps, moans coming from his mouth as he masturbates at the sight of you, holding up your own skirt to give him a perfect view of your wet panties, an innocent, frilly pair he can't wait to ruin.

He positions his cock to your folds, aiming at the spot your hole should be if not covered by your underwear. You both groan at the first slide, his pre-cum further soaking the fabric of your ruined panties. He wraps himself in his fist, teasing your clit as he pumps into his hand. More pearls of white spurt out of his tip. “Ah, fuck, that's good... so good...”

“Ah, ah, Caleb!”

You move your hips, moaning while he rubs himself against your cunt. The warmth of his cock is driving you crazy, and the added friction of Caleb rubbing your nipple through your clothes makes you even wetter than you already are. He's biting his lip, dazed eyes staring at your body appreciatively. “I'm taking this off, baby.”

He impatiently runs his hand through the buttons of your clothes, some of them popping off to clatter on the floor. “H-hey, I liked this shirt— haa...!”

“I'll buy you a new one,” he grunts, mouthing at one of your tits, sucking as if anything would come out. He unclasps your bra one-handed, throwing it over your shoulder. “These things are fucking annoying...”

Finally, he gets tired of rubbing you over your clothes. He lifts the side of your panties, sliding his cock inside to directly grind against your pussy. “Shit, that's more like it,” he moans loudly, your wetness gliding down his balls. “You feel so good.”

“Caleb, put it inside already,” you whine, scrunching up the fabric of your skirt in your fists. “This isn't enough for you either, hnn, right...? Give me your cock, please...”

Caleb grits his teeth, holding your hips to stop you from dropping on his dick. “Didn't I tell you I don't have a condom?”

“I don't care!” you struggle in his hold. “Fuck me, c'mon... it hurts...! If you don't...”

You pant against his ear, knowing exactly what you're getting into, drugged or not, “...I'll ask Zayne to fuck me instead.”

The effect is instantaneous. He pulls out, replacing his cock with two fingers plunging inside you at once, hitting deep all the way inside. You choke, gasping out for breath as his hand doesn't stop, slick jetting out of your cunt with every push of his fingers. His clothes are getting soaked, but Caleb doesn't care about them at all, coldly glaring at your face twisted in pleasure.

“So you're telling me you'd be fine with just anyone?” He's chuckling, but he doesn't sound like he's happy. “Fuck. I should've just done this from the start, then.”

He grabs two of the chocolates, popping one in his mouth. When he finishes swallowing, he places the other one in his mouth again, but then he suddenly grabs your jaw. “Open your mouth, slut.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, mouths locking together. The chocolate melts from the heat, his tongue licking at yours as he's forcing you to swallow. He doesn't let you go until he's sure you've eaten all of it, drool dripping from the corner of your lips.

“We're not stopping until you learn I'm the only one who gets to see you like this,” he grunts, taking out his fingers and slathering your slick on his cock to make it wet. “I'm the only one who gets to call you mine.”

“Haa... haa...”

Clothes are strewn messily on Caleb's bedroom floor, the mattress squeaking with each thrust of his hips. You're on your back, one leg hooked over Caleb's shoulder, staring into space as you're fucked absolutely stupid.

“Fuck, I can't stop my hips....” Caleb's still fucking into you, hasn't stopped for the past hour. The effects of the aphrodisiac have probably passed after the first two rounds, but his cock shows no signs of softening after release. He cums another load into you, overflowing from your pussy to spread into his sheets. “Ah, hng, shit... Hey, I told you not to waste it.”

He pulls out, pressing his fingers inside your loose hole to fuck his cum back in. You make a sound of protest, already feeling full.

“Are you starting to regret what you said now?” He grabs the back of your thighs, pressing your legs next to your ears. “Too late for that, though.”

Caleb groans, sloshing his cum inside your cunt with his dick. You helplessly grab at the sheets, moaning brokenly. His pelvis rubs against your engorged clit on every snap of his hips, driving you to squirt on his abs again, his torso glistening with your mess.

“You're squirting again? How many times have you cum?” Caleb laughs meanly, sucking another possessive mark among the smattering of hickeys he's already left along your collarbones. “Nasty girl...”

He leans back, getting a better view of your body. There are traces of him everywhere, from the hickeys on your neck, his cum on your chest because you couldn't swallow everything he poured in your mouth, and the faint bite marks on your inner thighs when he paid the favor and ate you out.

He presses a kiss on your chest, staring at you with dark eyes. “If you didn't say that, I would've been patient with you. Fingered you loose before putting my cock inside, making sure you're comfortable... I would've helped you ride out the effects of the aphrodisiac and never speak of it again. After all, to you, I'm just family.” He nuzzles against your cheek, his voice taking on a darker tone. “But you just had to call out another guy's name, didn't you... Would've fucked him if it was him here, not me...”

Caleb thrusts back inside you roughly, fucking your cervix. “You can't do that, you know? You've always belonged to me. Every part of you is mine, so no one else can touch you.” He cups your cheek, devouring your cries of pleasure with his mouth. “Just me... it's only me, right? I'm the person most important to you, right? You said so... So why are you bringing up another guy?”

He's asking questions, but he doesn't let you answer any of them, kissing you so much you almost can't breathe.

“Even though I'm in front of you...” Kiss. “Even when I'm the only one who loves you this much...” Kiss, kiss. “You're still thinking of another person...” Kiss, kiss, kiss. “That's hardly fair when you're all I think about everyday.” Another sloppy kiss.

You weakly push his chest, breaking away from the kiss. “Wait, Caleb—”

He pins your wrist to the bed. “I'm not stopping.”

“I'm not telling you to stop, I'm telling you to liste— ahh, haa, hnn!” The cock still ramming up your walls makes it much more difficult to speak, hammering against the sweet spot that makes your toes curl. “Fuck, ah— Caleb, listen to me!”

He hums as he sucks another hickey on your skin. “I am.”

You don't have it in you to argue even when he clearly isn't, trembling at the pleasure. The hand holding your wrist travels upwards to intertwine your fingers together, grounding you back to reality.

“Caleb, I was just— I didn't mean what I said...” you stammer, trying your best to speak without getting distracted. “I, mmh....! W-wouldn't do this with anyone else... haa... I just said that so you'd fuck me— ah, ah!”

He scoffs, slowing his pace when he sees you being overwhelmed. “You're just making excuses to get me to stop.”

“I'm not, you dummy! I...” your brows pinch together, embarrassed to say it but you continue anyway, “Caleb, you're the one I think of when I touch myself... nn... And I know it's wrong, and you only think of me as someone you should take care of, but, I, haah, I like it when you kiss me, or when you hug me, and I— gh! I like it when you fuck me hard, too, just like this...”

You move your hand to cup Caleb's jaw, admiring his awestruck expression. He looks at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

“I'm not telling you to stop,” you repeat yourself firmly. “I just wanted to say I didn't mean that thing I said earlier, and if it's you, you can do whatever you want to me. Because I love you just like how you love me, Caleb.”

His hips come to a complete stop. “Say that again.”

“I love you, Caleb.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“Okay, you're really pushing it, it's embarrassing to sa— aah!”

He grabs your hip, pulling you back to his cock. He fucks you frantically, harsh groans leaving his lips, your name like a prayer. “Fuck... you love me? You love... me?” The words seem unfamiliar on his tongue, heartbreakingly quiet. You squeeze your connected hands.

“I love you, Caleb. I really, really love you, I've loved you a long time ago...” you tilt his chin, making him meet your gaze. “Now say it back.”

“I love you,” he says with certainty, as if it's a fact of the universe. “I love you so much.” He buries his head into your neck, sucking new marks. “I love you... fuck... I love you so badly, it hurts...”

His cock drives deeper, the wet slaps of skin deafening in the room. Cum dribbles out of your hole with his thrusts, and he swipes it up to smear it on your engorged clit. Rub, rub. Rub, rub.

“Shit, Caleb!” You wail, rutting to his finger. “Everything feels so good, ah, ah!”

“You feel so good, too, aw, fuuuck...” he's melting inside you, your warm walls clenching around him so tight, sucking him back in every time he pulls out. “Your pussy keeps sucking me back in...!” 

“Ah, hnahh, ngh, yes, like that, ah! I'm cumming, cumming!”

His balls draw tight, his cock about to burst. “Fuck, shit!” he fucks in, in, in, until he's filled every space in your cunt, thumb frantically rubbing at your clit. Clear liquid soaks his cock, wetting his pelvis, and he follows you in your release, shooting ropes of milky cum deep inside your pussy. “Fuck, ah, take my cock, take my fucking cum all the way in, ohh— take it deep in your womb—”

He keeps cumming, and cumming, and cumming. “It won't stop,” he moans against your ear, watching your hole overflowing with his semen. “Your pussy feels too good, it's sucking me dry...”

“Caleb, shit, how are you still— ohh, fuuck...” you whine as the last spurts of semen hit your torso, Caleb having pulled out and pumping his dick to cover you in his cum.

Finally emptied, Caleb collapses on the spot beside you, running a hand through his hair. “I need a shower,” he mutters, feeling the stickiness on his body.

“We need a shower,” you correct him. “I probably won't be able to walk for the next few days, all thanks to you, so you better take responsibility and carry me everywhere.”

Caleb laughs, light and airy, nothing like the dark tone he's been speaking in earlier. He pulls you to his chest, pressing chaste kisses all over your face. “Anything for the girl I love.”

[bi-writes]

how would arguments go between simon and MOB? i imagine he would never dare raise his voice at her.

simon does not argue with his wife. if you are in danger or something is wrong, i could see him using a little bit of his lieutenant's voice just to get you to listen to him. to "get behind me" or "i'll take care of this, you go." otherwise, there's no resistance. none at all.

"you know, simon, i..." you stop at the door, swallowing. you rub a hand over your forehead, shaking your head. "i...i-i really don't want to go."

he shuffles in his boots, staring at you carefully. you're all dressed up; you've got a new dress on (that he bought you, eagerly), and you've done your makeup. you clutch your purse with clammy hands, and he narrows his eyes when he sees the tremble in your bottom lip. he clears his throat, taking his jacket off. he removes his boots quietly, scratching the back of his neck as he comes close to you to take your bag and hang it up by the door again.

"okay," simon murmurs. "then we won't go."

he doesn't tell you about the cancellation fee.

"'ello?"

"simon!"

he startles awake this time, holding the phone closer to his ear. the sheer anxiety in your voice cuts his gut sharp.

"wot? wot is it? wot happened?"

"i--i totally...i screwed up, simon--oh, god, i'm so sorry--"

"oi!" simon says firmly. "wot happened?"

"i...i'm at the shop, someone was going to back into me, so i swerved, and--"

"fuck," simon breathes. "are ya olright?"

"the car, it's--"

"not wot i asked," simon interrupts you. "are ya hurt?"

"w-what? i..." you sniffle. "no. i'm okay. just a little sore, i guess..."

simon lets out a deep breath, shaking his head.

"i'm coming," simon says lowly. "you stay there, baby. don't move."

"but, simon, the walk is--"

"i'll see ya in twenty."

"oh, no, no, no, no!" you gasp. the orange tabby's head perks up at the sound of your voice at the door. she's got one of simon's masks in her mouth, and even from this distance and without the lights turned on, you can tell the fabric is shredded to bits. it's all over the floor, scattered across the couch, flecks of lint in her fur.

"oh, god, how could you?!" you panic a little. she must have gotten into some kind of drawer or basket or the laundry, because as you start towards her, she darts away, leading you across the house where you can see shreds of more masks and simon's socks strewn about the house. "oh, no!"

the front door closes heavy. when you come into the living room, simon is there, dropping his gear onto the floor. he looks tired--his shoulders sag, and you can see his eyes half-lidded and barely opening.

"simon, i'm...i'm s-sorry, she--"

you're holding his tattered clothes, but before you can say anything more, he grabs you by the shoulders and hugs you so tight. you nearly lose your breath from how he crushes you to his chest, and you let out a quiet whimper when his knees buckle and he falls to the floor with you, cradling your head to his chest and kissing your forehead through the mask over and over.

you're here. you're real. you're alive.

you drop the shredded fabric and hug him back, closing your eyes as you breathe him in. he tips your head back finally, ripping his mask off and kissing you hard.

he doesn't care when he sees the orange cat take a bite of his thrown mask and run away with it.

he can buy a million masks. but his girls--he pulls back from your kiss to stare down at you, intense. he hasn't slept in days, and he hasn't had a decent meal in weeks, camping on different rooftops just to track a shipment, and when that bullet whizzed past his head, all he could think about was you. the cat-bitten plants. the warm food. the cherry dress. some things cannot be replaced.

some brides cannot be ordered again. they don't make them like you.

you are one of a kind.

[whateveriwant]

Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc

This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright

Price

HA! Good one!

No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around

That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart

Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)

He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress

Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...

Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off

She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions

What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻‍♀️)

Ghost

When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so

You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants

But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on

You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.

The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move

You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love

His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise

But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?

Soap

If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap

From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas

You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine

Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)

You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!

For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle

But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?

Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some

Gaz

By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is

Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps

There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't

You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest

And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most

But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…

He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?

You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲

[ddejavvu]

reader just had a shitty day and the only thing she had to look forward to was her date with spencer but her dress zipper breaks/she has a wardrobe malfunction and that was the last straw for her so she just cries and its just s fuckkkk ton of comfort from spencer? <333

"I'm going to kill myself," You decide, feeling the breeze on your back from your dress that is very much not zipped, "It's over for me, this is my last straw, and-"

"Uh, your- zipper... doesn't close?" Spencer guesses, keen eyes assessing the situation and finding your bare back exposed in the dim lighting of your closet.

"No," You groan, leaning forwards against the wall, all of your weight slumped in defeat, "I was- I was looking forward to wearing this dress all month, and now-" Your voice wobbles dangerously, "And now it's broken, and I don't have anything else that I wanted to wear tonight because this was supposed to be my special dress, and-!"

Whatever the rest of your speech would have been, it's lost in a garbled mess of tears as your shoulders begin shaking. Spencer's there in seconds, and the smooth fabrics of his suit jacket and tie press warmly against the exposed skin that your dress fails to cover. The front sags, and you're surely looking indecent, but pressed up against the wall, you don't care. You just let yourself go, and Spencer's arms snake around your waist to hold you up.

"It's okay." He soothes, his voice calm and kind, "Here's what we're gonna do, okay? Penelope's at home right now, and I know she can fix a broken zipper faster than Derek can bust down a door. And if it doesn't work, we can go shopping for a new one on the way to dinner. We can go to that boutique you were window-shopping at yesterday, and we can get the yellow dress you raved about. Actually, even if Penelope does fix your zipper, we can still get the yellow dress."

You think you know what he's insinuating, but just to be sure, you sniffle and peer cautiously at him from over your shoulder, "Spencer, I can't afford the yellow dress."

He laughs softly, kindly, and kisses a tear off of the apple of your flushed cheek, "I'm buying the yellow dress for you."

"Thanks," You reward him with your own wet, watery laugh, sniffling again as you turn to face him. You've forgotten that your dress has abandoned you, but perhaps that's Spencer's reward for treating you to the yellow dress you'd admired from the window only days prior.

He blushes as though he's never seen them before, reaching out to hike your dress back up onto your chest.

"Change into something a little more- uh, modest for the drive." Spencer suggests, "Otherwise we'll get arrested before we even get to Penelope's, and they're definitely not gonna let us into the restaurant."

[cardo-de-comer]

soo helloo and i think it's time for me to explain the deal with my characters and this whole "you're not supposed to be here" thing. EDIT: just fixed some stuff. thank you folks for your support, i really appreciate you all <3

i made these characters way back in june and by today they have a lot of lore around them in my head. i even have a dream to make a game with them but it's just a dream for now so i'm gonna try to explain the main things about this story. Obviously this is a long post, although I tried to keep this stuff short. and excuse me for my writing and any mistakes, I don't usually write this much text.

It starts with the world. Alternate 15th century, humanity is almost gone and what's left of it shares quite a big city with demons and angels. However, demons and angels are usually being treated like servants - eventually one gets tired of it all, so everyone knows an uprising is just around the corner. Let's just ignore that for now.

The City has a catch of it's own - it's alive. The walls have eyes and ears and the City knows every resident by heart and soul, both figuratively and literally. Usually City acts through the King, it chooses protectors for itself, ones who have strong minds to comprehend it - they will be called the royal knights, each of them have a company of a /more wiser than the rest of them/ demon and angel to help with their tasks. Only the King and ten royal knights know that the City is alive and very talkative but they don't understand fully what it's trying to tell them. Most of them choose to ignore the voices in their head because hey, that's what you do usually in this situation, otherwise they drive you nuts.

City is also extremely emotional and appearance depends on its condition. Usually it's a sunny day out and the city looks welcoming, but you don't want to be there when the City is scared: it might eat you alive by accident. Now that the environment is aside, time for the main three characters.

Imri is a young lad who will soon be a royal knight. He actually wanted to be a painter when he grows up but well, you cannot disobey the king's orders. Quite emotionless and a man of a few words, he tries to stay on a neutral ground between good and bad - a perfect candidate for manipulation to all three sides, demons, angels and the City.

look at him

Royal knights get to know their angel and demon companions at least a week before they get knighted to avoid any misunderstandings. Imri doesn't mind his friends at all, although one of them caused quite a fuss.

Angel /they name themselves Lyra/ is an overly positive, naive and blindly kind entity. A bit childish and very fond of justice, they try to act as a voice of conscience, not understanding that sometimes this can make everything even worse than it was. There is a feeling that they're trickier than it seems but you can never quite tell.

the latin text all over them is just a part of their design

The demon though... That's not even a demon, that's the Devil himself. Yes, everyone knows who this is, everyone avoids him and he's not supposed to be here at all. Despite being THE Devil, he didn't try to do anything horrific yet and, when he's not joking around, he tries to be the voice of reason, the voice that no one listens to. He seems to know a lot more about this whole world than anyone else but he talks about it only when he wants to.

no one likes him at all, expect maybe Imri who just tolerates his presence like he always does

That's the main three. There is a few secondary characters, Imri's father being one of them.

sir Jastrab /or just Dell/ is one of the royal knights, he's a bit naive, loyal, and a soul so kind that his demon hung himself. Oh well. He lost one hand in what he calls "a work accident" which is partly true but he never goes into details.

He never wanted for his son to be a part of the knights because he knows by experience that it's not an easy job and not every father wants for their child to go insane from the voices in their head.

few people said that the angel accompanying him looks like d20 and so be it

The others are Sun and Moon - local deities, despite being on the sky every day and night, usually they don't really care about what's going on down below. You can still talk to them but don't expect much action. Regardless of all this, they are still loved by almost all living things. They can rarely meet each other but humans always depict them together no matter what. Although maybe humans are right...

creators of the Stars - some part of a human soul that i can't talk about :)

Angels and demons come in all forms and sizes but those are the main population - lesser demons resemble the Devil in some ways and lesser angels look like clovers. Rivals usually but when the revolution happens, they learn to tolerate and work with each other. Humanity doesn't really have a chance.

they hate everyone equally And there is another being, that Imri meets a few times through the story - it's Death. Death is just having fun in this end of the world and there is a lot of work to be done.

this is an old and rough design so maybe it'll change The whole story begins at that day when Imri is supposed to be knighted. Everything seemed fine until Imri gets to hear the City for the first time and realizes that he hears and sees a lot more than everyone else. Completely overwhelmed he blacks out - even the toughest of minds often can't take it - and wakes up later only to find out that the King got killed somehow, angels and demons saw this as the starting point for a revolution and the City starts to panic.

Now Imri, guided by his companions and the voice of scared City that's crumbling and slowly drives him insane, shall travel to the center of it to find out what really happened, getting through demons and angels who are busy destroying the rest of humanity. Fun.

There is a lot more to this whole thing but I cannot tell the entire plot because spoilers, in case if i actually will make something out of this story. Think of it as a game lore. I'm not sure about making sth yet because i operate only on hopes and dreams and i barely have any strength lately but who knows... But now you have at least some context! And yeah, thank you if you actually read all of this, you're a hero.

Now i need to get back to drawing. Thank you all for your support. <3

[soulsxng]

Archetypes quiz | Tarinx edition!

41% Rebel: The Rebel is comfortable throwing caution to the wind—and bucking the system—if that means getting their point across.

25% Athlete: The Athlete's focus and drive are unparalleled. Staying healthy and being fit are paramount to them (as for winning, that doesn't hurt, either).

24% Explorer: The Explorer is drawn to the unknown, whether that’s a Himalayan peak or the road not taken, and have a thirst for adventure. They take journeys, not vacations.

[the-tarot-witch22]

What's coming for you in love in 2025? - Pick a Pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta | My year goal post

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - 10 of pentacles, knight of pentacles, 9 of wands and the fool)

Okay so the very first thing I heard and feel is, "patience" I feel your love life has been stagnant or stuck for quite a while, or you just don't feel like the need to have someone in your life, you are doing things but for your own, and maybe a part of you deep down wishes for the love the craving, soul shattering style. I am feeling this year will bring you luck in your love life, Like you will be meeting someone around the mid year to next year, But what I am feeling is your person, is taking his time, since he has lots going on , nothing to worry about but is like a bit of stress going on in their life, and you as well you need to go through some transitions before you actually come across them. Their energy is very masculine or well balanced. I am also feeling that it will happen when you let go of expectation and embrace the unknown, take the risk, not just stay in your safe cocoon. I am also feeling the person coming is quite something. He is patient, not that romantic in a way, but his actions will prove otherwise, the small little things or big things you will do for you, but for many of you I am seeing you might meet your person this year, and for some of you I am seeing lots of self love and growth, the song i keep channeling is "flowers" by Miley Cyrus , like even though you crave it you are not as desperate for it. "I can buy myself flowers", "talking to myself for hours, say things you don't understand", you got the gist hmm, and this is also very beautiful it proves, that you have the right energy, but do open your heart, take risks, go out, do stuff for yourself, and very unexpectedly you will meet you person.

The zodiac signs i feel prominent in this group are aquarius, earth signs and fire signs especially sagittarius/leo (sun/moon/rising).

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you - 2 of cups, 3 of pentacles, and 8 of wands)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and heard is, you're definitely gonna encounter someone this year, it's like a divine connection that I am seeing is coming towards you, I am also seeing the connection between you both, is gonna get develop into something more and quickly very soon, the attraction you both feel will be very much mutual, like you both know and realize what you want and its you both, the feelings are so mutual and pure, for some of you I feel you already know who your future spouse is, so I am feeling you might get close to them. or if not then there is just they are more on your thoughts or dreams and EVEN if you don't meet them it will be like your soul recognize it and it will happen very soon for you both. I am also feeling you both might have met at work, education, travel,, or a group kind of project, or shared interest, and if not you might meet there. I am also feeling you will learn a lot, from this experience, or from them it's not a superficial kind of love it's a love and feeling that is very deep. I am also hearing that is meant to be! I am also feeling that this connection is soulmate connection and you share something deep! I am also feeling from seeing the cards that this union is gonna be life changing and it will change your perception of love and how you see it.

The zodiac signs i feel prominent in this group are scorpio, cancer, pisces, virgo and fire signs especially sagittarius and aries. (sun/moon/rising).

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you - 9 of wands, the sun, king of swords and the 3 of cups)

Okay so the very first thing I heard and feel is that you guys are SUPER independent, like yeah I can do that i don't need no one type of thing. You might have been a real people pleaser, but I am seeing you are trying to over come it and you also stand up for yourself which is very good thing, and in relationships i feel you haven't had much luck and many of you didn't even had boyfriend or this, but this just means god has some special plans for you. I am also feeling you can't tolerate bullshit of others, you are not the person to stay if someone is being intolerable. And that's a good thing. I am also seeing that you guys have CHANGED IN PAST FEW YEARS which is a good thing for you. Okay, I also got the message that some of you here might had one or two relationships but not serious, many of you don't even know what love is like (not saying that's a bad thing) just typing out the things I channel. So, now let's dive deeper, I am also feeling that this year particularly will bring a change in your life which will be TURNING YOUR LIFE UPSIDE down, maybe you realize who is your person, there will be signs, SO i am seeing and feeling that you don't ignore them at ALL. you will be seeing lots of 11:11, 222 and 444 but also feathers and butterflies. I am also feeling that the change will be so full of happiness, you might not even see it coming in a way. After all, universe has a plan and works in mysterious ways. I am also feeling that in love there is someone coming towards the end of the year mostly fall or in October, I am also feeling the person will be very intelligent and confident, they are like a life of party. I am also feeling when you come across them, you might be celebrating something like you got A job, you passed your exams, you launched your business. They are also very intellectual, and it's gonna transform your life in a very good way.

The prominent zodiac signs are - fire signs and air signs, sun/moon/rising.

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3