#but some care less than others about blending in)

[thebramblewood]

Virtuous Vampires: Demetrius Troyer, Brandy Wood, Samantha Gratz

The good kind of goths, not the rip out your jugular vein kind of goths! Not only is drinking blood messy and immoral — it's just so passe.

[earthtooz]

cw: arranged marriage, fluff, neglect at the beginning, ratio falling hard, pining, ratio being jealous of aventurine, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart not my brain

my brain has been thinking about an arranged marriage fic with dr. ratio...

he isn't kind to you at first, less than happy to share a life with a mere acquaintance. he's heard about you before in passing, noting your achievements with a grain of salt because nothing about you particularly mattered to him, irrelevant against the mass of scrolls and books he needs to read.

you don't really disturb his normal routine too much. you move in to his estate with a fair share of your belongings, but none of them crowd his house too much. you have your own room, pristine guest room unearthed by your artistic touch.

aside from dinners, you don't get to see each other too much. he starts his mornings early, getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise and start his day with a hearty meal. you wake up later, partaking in a slow morning, and if you glanced out the window, you might be able to see your husband running laps around the expanse of his gardens.

you admire his dedication and routine, it's fascinating to live beside a genius. everyday, the chest table that sits in the living room changes, the black and white pieces never remaining where you last recalled. the size of his blackboard is impressive, and yet too small to fit all of the formulas his brain remembers, hands effortlessly dancing along the surface to scratch number after number.

a frequent order of his estate is chalk. a new pile is delivered every three days, and he goes through them without fail every time.

during dinner, he tries to spare some conversation with you. you don't tell him too much about your day, not wanting to bore him with your menial chores. he's only half-listening either way, so you'll feign understanding about his work when he explains what he's up to.

ratio is not an attentive husband, but he doesn't mistreat you, either. he allows you to spend his assets without too much care, doesn't police your everyday tasks, and also doesn't bat an eye at other men or women. his pursuit of intelligence is important, and your wellbeing would not come in between that.

your monotonous, distant routine changes one autumn dusk. you're perched in the front yard with an easel set up before you, the sky in front of you now a blend of pink-purple hues. he returns home earlier than you expected, carriage stopping at the front of his estate, and he witnesses you in your tranquil state.

the paint strokes on the canvas before you are skilled, and show years of dedication to the craft. you're so invested in the piece before you, that you don't even hear him approaching until he calls your name.

"the night turns colder with each minute. shouldn't you come inside before you fall ill?" the scholar greets, and you're snapped out of your creative reverie, looking over at him.

"oh, i had not realised. let me clean up here, first." you take your canvas off the easel, but to your surprise, your spouse kneels down to organise your oil paints back into their box.

"make haste, then," he urges.

during dinner, he can't help but be curious over your hobby, the stubborn splotches of paint clinging to your hands visible to him. that night, you engage in uninterrupted conversation, and discover that he's an artist himself- a sculptor. it calms him, and all the statues reside in a removed room, adjacent to his study.

despite your years of matrimony, you had never once dared enter his study, but the design is so fittingly him. it is organised (well, as organised a genius can be), with shelves and shelves filled with books, discarded scrolls lay around the room, but even then, his taste for greco-roman aesthetics are seen. roman dorics act like stands for little plants, and his many certificates are displayed, along with other achievements.

(his study is overwhelmingly filled with them. though you knew of the merit of the man you were arranged to be married to, you had never known just how expansive the list is. perhaps, that only made him more intimidating to you, standing beside a genius does not feel so light to say anymore.)

he shows you his sculptures, and though many of them are... self portraits... the likeness is disgustingly accurate. it was as if he had casted himself in plaster and displayed it proudly. you wonder how long he must have stared in the mirror to perfect their appearance.

but, there are also various other formidable statues. some of people you recognise. you compliment his skill and don't get to see the blush that spreads along his cheeks.

it seems that you've chipped a way into his heart, because between brushstrokes and chiselled marble, he falls in love with you.

ratio knows he didn't start off being the best husband, but he tries to now, and begins by being present. asks you to dine together where possible, listens when you're talking about your day, and the two of you can be seen venturing downtown together; an unbelievable sight for those who believed that ratio was romantically inept.

perhaps, an even more unbelievable sight, was the soft smile on his face that glanced at you very adoringly, and how you remained unaware of his affections.

and, maybe a jealous veritas ratio is just as unbelievable.

he is practically glaring daggers at the side of a certain blond's head. ratio has never been fond of the scheming businessman, aventurine, and is even less so of the fact that you seem so close to him, more than you are with your own husband. you're speaking with him like how one would with old friends, a peaceful visit to the markets turned sour by his presence.

when you finally, finally, finally, bid farewell to aventurine, who gave ratio a look that signified he was up to no good, your husband held your hand in his gloved one with an unforgiving grip. his mood is dampened for the remainder of the day, and is only made better when you enquire about his sudden glumness, visiting his office to see if he was alright.

you leave him with a kiss on the crown of his head, and a whisper of 'goodnight', before retreating to your chambers, and the only thought that circulates in his head for the rest of the night is you, and how he's going to sweep you off your feet.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: In 30 minutes or less!

Danny is a delivery man.

He got the job after realizing his resume was severely lacking in terms of working experience.

Also when he needed more money for his own purchases. There is a big difference between begging his parents for an allowance and earning his own spending funds.

The thing is, no matter where Danny applied, he was not getting a call back. Jazz warned him that a majority of Amity Park didn't hire them - as she also attempted to get a part-time job when she was his age - because of the Fenton last name.

She swore and hissed, but she couldn't prove that it was the reason they weren't hired. She just heard the talk around the town. They all said they wouldn't want to hire from the lunatic family.

That whenever a Fenton went , something bad quickly followed.

It stung, that not even Nasty Burger wanted him. That placed hired people under sixteen for Pete's sake. But Danny was resourceful. If Amity Park hadn't hired him, then he would just try the other place he had civilianship in.

The Infinite Realms.

Danny figured that if societies existed with the Realms, then they had to have a form of currency. He just needed to find one that used the same one as his world did.

FrostBite was more than happy to point him in the right direction. Since his people were the ones to spend generations attempting to map out the Realms, he had found a part of the ghost zone that Danny could blend into easily.

It was only a thirty minute commute from Danny's family portal. He could easily make that after school.

Thus, Danny flew to the portal location FrostBite told him about and ended up in a place called Central City. He found employment very quickly at Joel's Pizza, and for sixteen dollars a hour he was racing across the city to give some sizzling pizza pies.

. He was given a company scooter, but Danny preferred to fly. No one saw him as he never turned off his invisibly until he arrived at the destination. He got great tips for his speed, and his boss was fun to work for.

His parents are proud that he has a job and is not causing trouble. His friends also have their own jobs so Sam and Tucker have to plan their meet ups now- buts that's just a part of growing up.

The only thing that made his part-time difficult was the ghosts. Not all of them bothered him now a days but a few still did.

Like Young Blood. The brat didn't seem to care that Danny was going to be late to a shift since he had no concept of the importance of adult responsibilities. He was able to text his boss an apology using school as an excuse, but he was still thirty minutes late and sporting a black eye.

Joel stared at him for a long moment, muttered something in Spanish, before handing him five pizza boxes, and told him to take it to the central city police department. Danny was supirse he didn't even lecture him.

When he got to the station, the person in front told him to wait a moment since it was the forensic department that ordered food. He waited a few minutes until a blond man came down the hall, with a cheerful smile.

That smile fell when Danny turned to look at him. There was a brief flash of something dark that crossed his expression before the smile was back ten fold

"Hello," Danny said, standing up. "Order for Barry?

"That's me!" The man grins, holding out a wad of cash "Keep the change."

Wow. A fifty dollar tip!

"Sure thanks!"

"Welcome kid!"

Danny practically skipped away, Barry Watching him climb onto his scooter and slowly blending back into the traffic.

He turned to look at Officer Dawn "Is it just me or was that kid covered in bruises?"

Officer Dawn's mustache twitches with displeasure. "He definitely was. Looked fresh, too. Not only that but he works for Joel Pizza"

"This Joel a trouble maker?"

"The opposite, he was a foster kid. Once he aged out and got his own business, he started hiring teenagers in similar situations. Usually, his staff are all kids who are having a rough time. If things are too bad, he makes reports, but we try to avoid it. Don't want to lose one of the few trustworthy safe spaces for those kids." Officer Dawn's hesitates for a second before he carefully asks."A cop poking around may spook them, but a forensic chemist won't. Do you mind finding out what the delivery kid's deal is for me?"

"I look into it." Barry promises already knowing the Flash is also going to be following the boy just to make sure he safe.

He hates it when kids get hurt. Remind him too much of Wally.

[meazalykov]

nobody's type

sydney lohmann x reader

summary: people wonder why you don't want to make the first move..

warnings: insecurities, overall sadness

you stand at the edge of the pitch, the crisp air nipping at your skin as the sun dips below the horizon, casting the bayern munich training ground in a soft, golden glow. 

the stadium lights flicker on one by one, their harsh brightness chasing away the twilight shadows. 

training has ended, and most of your teammates have already made their way inside, but you linger, your feet rooted to the spot as your gaze settles on sydney. 

she’s the last to leave, her laughter ringing out like music as she jokes with a few others– tuva and pernille– who stayed behind. she looks so at ease, so effortlessly beautiful, that it makes your chest tighten with something achingly familiar—a longing that you’ve carried in silence for far too long.

it’s not that you don’t want to talk to her. it’s that you can’t. every time you think about approaching her, the words you want to say dissolve on your tongue, replaced by the bitter taste of insecurity. 

sydney, with her easy confidence and radiant smile, seems like she belongs in a world far removed from yours. sometimes you wonder how you ended up on the same team as her. she’s someone who could have anyone she wanted, someone who would never look twice at someone like you. at least, that’s what you’ve convinced yourself.

after transferring from spurs to bayern munich in 2023, you found a bit of relief. you’ve always struggled with this feeling of inadequacy, this deep-rooted belief that you’re not attractive enough, not interesting enough, not enough in any way that matters. 

you had confidence in your football ability as a striker– but still— you’re awkward and quiet, always feeling out of place even among people who know you best. you’ve never quite managed to shake the feeling that you’re somehow less than everyone else, that the flaws you see when you look in the mirror are just as obvious to everyone around you.

the idea of someone like sydney seeing you—really seeing you—fills you with a fear so intense it’s paralyzing.

so you keep your distance, blending into the background, watching her from afar like you have for months now. 

you’ve learned to be careful, to avoid letting your gaze linger on her for too long when she’s nearby. but even then, it’s like your eyes are drawn to her, seeking her out without you even realizing it. 

you watch the way she laughs, the way her eyes light up when she talks about something she’s passionate about, the way she moves with a grace that seems effortless. and every time you do, that same painful ache settles in your chest, a constant reminder of everything you want but can never have.

you’ve spent countless nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling as your mind replays every interaction you’ve ever had with her. you analyze every word, every glance, every smile, searching for some hint that maybe, just maybe, she feels the same. 

but then the doubt creeps in, the voice in your head reminding you of all the reasons why that’s impossible. you’re not good enough for someone like sydney. you’re too plain, too shy, too broken. and so you push the hope away, bury it deep down where it can’t hurt you anymore, even though you know it’s still there, waiting to resurface the next time you see her.

the sound of footsteps approaching pulls you from your thoughts, and you glance up to see georgia walking toward you. 

she’s one of the few people who seems to notice when you’re struggling, and even though you appreciate her concern, it also makes you feel exposed, like she can see all the things you’re trying so hard to hide.

“y/n,” she says softly, coming to a stop beside you. “you know your crush on sydney is pretty obvious to everyone, right?”

your heart skips a beat, panic flaring in your chest. “what? no, it’s not… i mean, it’s not like that,” you stammer, the words tumbling out in a rush as you try to deny it. 

but georgia just gives you a look, one that says she knows exactly what’s going on.

“it’s okay,” she says, her voice gentle but firm. “but, y/n, you’re selling yourself short. sydney likes you. you’re attractive and she sees that but she’s been waiting for you to make a move.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, disbelief washing over you. 

you shake your head, a bitter smile tugging at your lips as you try to process what she’s saying. 

“there’s no way she could like me. i’m… i’m not enough. not for someone like her.”

georgia’s expression softens, her eyes full of sympathy and frustration. “y/n, you’re more than enough. you’re caring, talented, and honestly, anyone would be lucky to have you. but you keep convincing yourself that you’re not worthy of love, and that’s not true.”

you want to believe her, you really do. but the voice in your head—the one that’s been there for as long as you can remember, whispering that you’re not good enough, not pretty enough, not worth anyone’s time—drowns out her words. 

you look away, your gaze drifting back to sydney, who’s now slinging her bag over her shoulder, ready to head inside. the idea of walking up to her, of telling her how you feel, seems impossible. 

you’ve spent so long building these walls around your heart, convinced that no one could ever love you for who you really are, that the thought of tearing them down is terrifying.

“what if she doesn’t feel the same?” you whisper, the fear creeping into your voice. it’s the fear that’s been holding you back all this time, the fear that if you let her in, she’ll see all the things you hate about yourself and turn away.

georgia sighs, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “you’ll never know unless you try. but, y/n, you’ve got to stop tearing yourself down. you’re incredible, and it’s time you start seeing that.”

her words resonate with you, but the insecurities that have rooted themselves in your heart are stubborn. they cling to you, wrapping around your thoughts like vines, choking out any glimmer of hope. 

you want to be the person georgia thinks you are, the person who’s brave enough to take a chance, but every time you try to take a step forward, the doubts pull you back. they remind you of every time you’ve been overlooked, every time you’ve been hurt, every time you’ve convinced yourself that you’re not worthy of love.

you watch as sydney disappears through the doors, the opportunity slipping through your fingers once again.

you can feel georgia’s gaze on you, a mix of concern and sadness in her eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to meet it. instead, you stay silent, trapped in the fear that has held you back for so long, wishing you could be someone different—someone who could believe in themselves, someone who could believe that they’re worthy of love.

as the last traces of daylight fade and the stadium lights cast their artificial glow across the field, you turn to follow your teammates inside. the weight of your unspoken feelings, of your unfulfilled desires, settles heavily on your shoulders, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever find the courage to break free from the chains of your own self-doubt. 

for now, all you can do is hope that one day, you’ll find the strength to see yourself the way georgia does, the way sydney might if you ever gave her the chance. 

but until then, you’ll keep your distance, hiding behind that brick wall you’ve built, afraid to let anyone meet the real you.

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

[folkvangr-seidr]

You're a bad idea.

Pairing: Cairo Sweet x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary: Cairo is mesmerized by the new, mysterious student sharing a class with her.

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: cursing, steamy scene (no smut however) I think that's all?

a/n: i'm sorry if it feels a little rushed? i changed the ending almost four times. hope you enjoy!

You hated how everything was changing but still, you felt numb.

You moved to another state, you decided to focus on your writting and suddenly you became a mystery.

Or at least that's how Cairo saw you. And she loved a good mystery more than anything.

More so if the mystery was the new and gorgeous student sharing a class with her.

Yeah, maybe she was getting a little obsessed over someone she had only exchanged a few words with.

She knew very little about you. Your name. The amazing writer you were. The body she only saw once, when you crossed paths in the locker room, you having finished your training with the soccer team, she getting ready for her swimming lessons.

The way you seemed to try to blend in so no one would be able to notice you. But she did. How could she not?

So she found herself, once again, writting about you. The possibilities were endless.

Who were you? Why did you get here halfway through the course?

God, she needed some sleep.

_________

You were late to your first class but you couldn't care less. The creative writting lecturer was really annoying.

You didn't bother knocking on the door and just walked in, getting a few stares from other students AND, obviously, your professor.

"So you decided to finally show up? What an honor" he said.

You chose to ignore him, it was really early in the morning and you didn't have time for coffee before you left home so yes, you felt like shit.

You scanned the room looking for an empty seat somewhere you could just lay low until your eyes landed on Cairo Sweet.

Well, on the spot near her. You walked there and without another word you sat next to her and opened your laptop on your desk, ready to start writting while blocking out your teacher's voice.

You opened your most recent work, knowing full well you didn't have the energy nor the time to finish it right then but you thought you might as well give it a try.

You could feel the burning stare on the side of your head but you decided to ignore it and started typing instead, focusing on your work.

The minutes passed excruciatingly slow and you could feel yourself getting more and more annoyed at the fact that you were unable to focus on the poem you were writing.

"Trouble in paradise?" Cairo asked with a smirk, leaning closer so only you could hear.

You stared at her with no sign of emotion on your face and she felt like you could see clearly every thought she ever had.

"Mind your own bussiness" you retorted.

You saw dissapointment flash across her features before she returned her attention to the stupid lecture and for some reason all you could think about was her smirk, the small dimples on her cheeks and all those freckles.

Fuck, her face was like a sky full of stars.

You tried to focus on your work with little success when Cairo's face haunted your mind.

_________

Class ended and you were the first one to leave, almost as if you were in a rush so when Cairo saw you smoking against a wall near the parking lot she was pleasantly surprised and without thinking it twice, she approached you and snatched the cigarrete from your hand, allowing herself a long drag before looking up at you with that same smirk from before.

You looked at her. Really looked at her. She was gorgeous. Her tiny frame held herself with shameless wonder. You felt like some force was pulling you to her.

"What do you want from me?" you asked.

She laughed and you swear your heart skipped a few beats in that moment.

"That's a great question" she said mischievously "I'm still figuring that out"

Then she stepped closer to you and she placed the cigarrete back in your lips.

"Then find me when you do, Cairo" you said smirking back before turning around and leaving.

She felt confused, she thought she was getting somewhere but she felt like you were always running.

Cairo watched as you started your bike and drove away from the building.

You really needed that coffee now if you wanted to make it to practice later that day.

_________

You were distracted, which earned you a talk from the coach. You scoffed and left the field to sit on the bleachers, as he instructed you.

"Sit back there and cool down, don't want that temper on my team, kid" were his exact words.

You couldn't help it. You either felt numb or mad, there was no in-between.

You watched as the rest of the team finished some drifts and exercises and you joined them, the only answer to your move being a slightly nod from the coach.

Practice finished without further inconvinience but you always decided to run around the field while everybody went home.

You liked the solitude of it.

So you found yourself entering the locker room really late that day. You took off your shirt first thing and then looked around to find no other than Cairo Sweet, her wet hair falling around her shoulders. And she was definitely checking you out.

"Enjoying the view?" you asked raising one eyebrow at her.

"Mhmm" she muttered not looking away from your abs.

You stepped closer to her and that seemed to put her out of her trance and look straight to your face. She was blushing and biting her lower lip.

"I will ask again, Cairo. What do you want?" you took another step closer.

Her eyes darted back and forth between your eyes and you lips as she licked hers.

"I want you, Y/N" she said breathless.

And she sounded so sure of it.

Your eyes darkened as she leaned closer to you so she could trace her hand against your jaw.

"So pretty…" she said.

Something inside of you switched and in a swift movement you grabbed her hand above her head and guided her backwards until her back made contact with the locker behind her.

"Fuck" she whimpered.

You leaned so close that she could feel your breath against her mouth.

"That's what you want, Cairo? You want me to fuck you?" you demanded.

"Y-yes" she was breathing hard and you were enjoying every bit.

You released her hand and she placed it on your shoulder, tugging for you to get even closer, while your hand made its way to her collarbone, you traced it slowly and then you placed it on her throat, with just enough force to keep her head in place as you finally closed the gap and smashed your lips agains hers, kissing her hard.

You shivered when you felt her hand tracing down your torso, taking her time around your top to finally rest on your abs.

She moaned when your tongue traced her lower lip, asking for permission which she happily complied.

The sound of a door closing took you both out of your steamy make out session and you felt your body tense when you pulled apart.

"I have to go" you said "Didn't mean to start a fire" you added smirking at her.

And with that you grabbed your things and left her there, speechless and aching for you.

[solbaby7]

I Dare You

pairing: cassian x reader

warnings:prolly some typos, kinda douchebag!cass but very minimal, sexual tension, swearing, mentions of drinking, (literally have any of you ever gone bull riding before? bc that shit is not for the weak)

summary: Cassian doesn’t think you’re capable of letting your hair down to have some fun. I dare you to prove him wrong.

—

Someone must’ve laced your drink.

They had to have.

It was the only logical explanation for the unusual feelings beginning to churn knots in your gut the longer you took in the handsome planes of Cassian’s face.

Usually, it was easier to overlook when you were sober, too off-put by his demeaning comments and endless sexual innuendos to truly focus on the sharp cut of his jaw or the stubble that resided there. The tempting plush of his bottom lip captures your focus, its glistening from the cheap beer overflowing his cup and the foreign thought of what they would felt like pressed against your own evades your senses.

You blame it on the ambiance.

This place was no Rita’s, not nearly as cozy or tucked away but something about the clubs hypnotic hues of rich purples and soft blues casting over Cassian’s cheeks had your head slowly tilting to the side in silent appreciation.

Had he always had that dimple when he smiled?

“Truth or dare?” Mor yells over the thumping music, effectively breaking you free from your trance and stealing your attention. A bright grin is plastered across her face induced by the empty shot glasses on the table before her.

Your head shakes on instinct, not nearly as prone to letting loose as the rest of the Inner Circle. The outfit alone was far enough out of your comfort zone as is, allowing Mor and Feyre to use you like a baby doll; curling your hair and applying makeup over excited giggles and shared bottles of bubbly. The borrowed fabric sticks to you like second skin, its halter neckline more comfortable than you’d care to admit and the cool breeze of passerby’s on your exposed back is welcome. The tight bodice blends seamlessly into the flowy skirt that tickles the middle of your thighs, showing off more leg than you usually cared to bare but it had looked too nice against your figure to complain. “I don’t really—“

“Don’t even bother,” Cassian interjects, a beer clutched in one hand while the other rested lazily on the back of the booth. “She always says no.”

“That’s not true.”

It was.

You blamed it on their High Lord’s inability to complete his paperwork and file them properly afterwards. When you’d first arrived, there had been centuries worth of paperwork strewn about his storage room in no true order with the subjects varying from treaties and common laws on trade routes to pages worth of detailed documentation dividing up ownership of land. Blueprints for potential and current properties with box after box of receipts kept to keep track of the billing it took to run such a place—much less a whole city.

Simply put, you’d been stuck in work-mode; refusing casual outings and generous offerings of chilled bottles shared over dinner for months until you’d finally made a dent sizable enough to satisfy you. There’s no point in bothering to explain any of that to Cassian though, biting your words over the rim of your glass and the burn on your tongue is soothed by the sweet mixer. “Oh really?” He goads, a cocky glint in golden eyes as he leans forward, shoulders straining in the dark cotton of his shirt . “Answer her then, truth or dare?”

There’s a long pause—one long enough for Rhysand to clear his throat, fully prepared to diffuse the situation but your voice cuts through before he can. “Dare.” It’s spoken stronger than you feel and you muster up the courage to meet his eye as if you hadn’t just been gobbling up the miles of endless muscle packed onto his body.

“I dare you to let loose for once in your boring little life.” Feyre scoffs her disapproval at his wording, a hand smacking at Cassian’s arm but he doesn’t react as if he can even feel it. He’s utterly fixated on you, body language lax and still somehow emitting such a domineering presence it makes your feet shift in high heels. “Unless you’re too prude to even let your hair down?”

A brow arches and you ignore the burn creeping up your neck at the looks your friends are sharing, clearly having a mental conversation on who was going to have to intervene this time. Saving them the trouble, you comply. “Fine.” You’re too occupied in chugging the remnants of your drink to notice the surprised expression crossing the General’s face. He doesn’t miss you though, witnessing a mischievous darkness clouding your eye before you rise from the booth and squeeze through the endless sea of bodies.

“I don’t understand your problem with her,” Mor grumbles with distaste, a hand outstretching for the latest round of drinks being provided by the waiter. “She’s nice.”

“She’s boring,” Cassian promptly retorts, eyes sifting over the crowd in search for a flash of your dusky red dress but it’s nowhere to be found. His spine straightens ever so slightly, the grip on his glass tightening in his silent surveillance for you. “When you said you were hiring a female who’d be around so often that she’d be living with us, I hoped she’d be more…eventful.”

“Is that truly your reasoning, brother?” Rhys drawls out playfully, tugging his mate in closer to his side. A glass of whiskey is in his free hand, tilting the bottom of it tauntingly in Cassian’s direction as he pretends to ponder. “Or maybe it’s because you keep antagonizing her in hopes that she’ll notice you and yet she barely gives you anything back in return? Her passiveness must eat you up at night.”

It earns the High Lord a few laughs and even Azriel can’t hide the amused upturn of his mouth at Cassian’s expense but the Lord of Bloodshed can’t even begin to be bothered with that.

Not when his sights finally land on that sinful shade of red gripping at the curves contained within them. Cassian can’t even hear his family anymore, eardrums tuning out everything that wasn’t you as he watches the way you lean in towards one of the nicely dressed workers with a smile. The exchange is quick but Cassian doesn’t miss a thing, noting the challenging quirk of the males brow and he leads you behind a thick curtain that sectioned off a portion of the bar he hadn’t even noticed until now.

Words can’t describe the way losing his visual on you makes his skin itch, wings twitching with his irritation and the tense line of his shoulders doesn’t release for even a second. A plethora of thoughts plague Cassian’s mind. Surely you hadn’t taken his jest as an invitation to go be with some other male? Even if it would’ve been well within your right it was the furthest from his intentions.

“Run out of witty remarks?” Rhysand prods further, voice full of humor but there’s a hint of serious questioning lingering in his eye. “Or have I stunned you to complete silence?”

Feyre catches on quicker than her counterpart, following Cassian’s line of sight, watching as the same curtains you’d disappeared behind starts beginning to rise, a thundering chime ringing through the bar. “I don’t think it’s you who has him speechless.”

The others follow her gaze and quiet fascination sets root when more space is revealed. Situated right in the middle of the newly revealed stage is what seems to be the magical apparition of a fake bull, complete with horns and a nose that huffed out smoke. It’s one hell of a spectacle that has the inebriated crowd cheering with joy at the promise of such extravagant entertainment. “Trouble is in the house tonight. Let’s welcome her warmly.” The male announces, guiding you into the light and spinning you around for all to take in.

Cassian’s teeth grit together, disturbingly aware of every eye and muttered comment directed your way and his fingers twitch for the familiar weight of his sword. “No way...” He whispers in complete disbelief as you approach the bull with a practiced ease, hoisting yourself on its back with the swipe of your leg.

The motion is fluid, thighs shifting to get situated and the new position hikes up the hem of your dress. All the bare skin that is revealed makes his mouth water, elbows leaning against the table to brace himself.

Your gaze finds Cassian’s easily in the crowd, a devious smirk forms in the corner of your mouth and the wink you send his way has his cock twitching to life in his breeches.

Music flows through the space—a sensual tempo with a bass so deep it rattles the very blood in your body. There’s no explaining why you find such a comfort in it but you submit to the numbness it provides anyway, relishing in the absence of thought as you melt into the beat.

One hand latches securely around the saddle and the well-dressed employee begins his skilled control of the bull. It’s a slow rock, movements mechanical and jerky but you make it look graceful—hips shifting back and forth over and over as the speed increases. You barely look up, too caught up in synchronizing your body with the music, spurred on by the generous cheers from the other drunken fae with energy to burn and coins to spend.

Faster and faster the bull rocks, spinning you from left to right but your remain saddled in place, core strong and thighs braced for the chaotic jostling. Haughty whistles cut through the crowd when the bull abruptly tips forward, shifting the fabrics of your dress until you were face down, ass up and flashing the lacy boy shorts you had on underneath. “Come on,” You whine prettily to the male in control of the mechanism, hair spilling to one side of your face and a pretty blush fans across your cheeks at the salacious exposure. “That all you got?”

“Hold on tight.”

You’re grateful for obtaining the good sense it takes to heed the warning because in an instant the bull is jerking back to life, spinning and rocking in an attempt to shake you off. Jubilant laughter pelts free, hair blowing in the wind and dress flashing more of the soft skin that Cassian was just dying to get his fill of.

He’s been bested—that much the Commander can admit but it doesn’t feel like a loss when you feed his filthy fantasies without even trying. The roll of your waist will surely plague his dreams but the effortlessly seductive glint in your eye will haunt him to his dying breath.

It doesn’t dissipate. Not even when you finally tap out, easing yourself down on shaky legs and shuffle back to the shared booth with a breathy huff.

A peachy sheen has overtaken your cheeks at the bewildered stares your friends give you for your performance but the mess of your curls splaying around your shoulders has Cassian’s heart racing when imagining the others ways he could put you in such a state.

The others watch in complete silence as you steal the beer right from Cassian’s hands, cool condensation dripping down your fingers but you pay it no mind. “It seems that I am plenty of fun to be around,” He watches the slow roll of your throat as you swallow, unable to look away. “But that’s usually reserved for after hours.”

Cassian’s gaze darkens under the implication, lids heavy with desire. “Noted.”

[multidimensionalguidance]

Services

Here's a compilation of notes on composite charts that I've seen and experienced as well. Composite charts blend the individual birth charts of two people into a single chart that represents the relationship itself. It represents the relationship’s dynamics, challenges, strengths, and purpose. Enjoy!

Capricorn ASC/Rising: these are the couples that seem to skip a lot of the initial steps in a relationship and feel very serious right from the start. The purpose of this relationship is to learn the pros and cons of tradition. They'll learn the importance of taking things slow, building a strong foundation, and supporting each other's goals. Together they strive to be a power couple. It is also likely to be a very karmic relationship as well, so obstacles and challenges are expected. With Libra ruling their 10th house they care a lot about how others perceive them, and understand that together they can reach for higher social levels than what they were single. From the outside, they might look like the ideal relationship and others think they look good together. They could have met at work, in a social/public setting, or after some difficult situation. The relationship might be or feel more difficult than most, less romantic, and more traditional than any other, but it's also the type to be more grounded, and committed than any other.

Jupiter in 1st House: There is a lot of abundance, luck, and growth in this type of relationships, and the closer to the ascendant, the more noticeable it is to others how the relationship is surrounded by an air of optimism. They love to adventure, explore, and travel together. There's also a spiritual undertone to these relationships because it feels very "meant to be" for both individuals. The connection elevates their knowledge about life and their deepest inner self as well. Everyone perceives them as well educated, privileged, and foreign in some way. Others assume the relationship to be ideal for both individuals.

Neptune in 1st house: The connection revolves around illusions, healing, inspiration, spirituality, and mysticism. They probable handle their issues by either putting a smoke screen over it or in by taking the spiritual healing route. Others might perceive them as intuitive, unreachable, mystic, or delusional. They might struggle with seeing the relationship through rose colored glasses rather than what it really is. This would be the type of relationship that feels perfect until real issues arise, then confusion appears, and they don’t know how to be grounded enough to resolve it. Misunderstandings between individual expectations of the partnership are often the result of unclear communication.

Uranus in 1st house: There will be a lot of random, spontaneous, and sudden changes in the relationship. It might be hard for them to have a serious long term commitment because there's always some sort of disruption occuring. Both individuals have to learn to give each other as much space as necessary and to be accepting of their mutual eccentricities. These are the couples that people just don't know what to expect from them. One day they might be fighting, and then a few weeks later they might be taking their relationship to a different level. All of these ups and downs can be very challenging for the relationship, and it is very noticeable for everyone around them.

Path of Fortune in 1st house: Similarly to Jupiter, this is a relationship that has luck on their side but on a smaller scale. They'll notice how their day to day issues are resolved easily if they stay optimistic and trusting of the process. Other's might see them as a couple that met by a strike of luck or fate.

Saturn in 3rd house: The growth of the relationship, the communication between the both of them, how often they make local trips, or even matters related to vehicles might be delayed or difficult in this relationship. They are required to put a lot of effort and be patient with how well both parties manage the relationship. This placement is so uncomfortable because every relationship needs a strong and stable communication, but Saturn here pushes them to try harder than in any other connection. It is a connection that requires a lot of effort, so it will challenge both individuals to consider how badly they want to be together and make it work. If they do put the effort, then the relationship will be very rewarding and give them a sense of “of we did it, and we built this from scratch!”.

Moon in 5th house: This is a couple whose emotional focus, needs, and concerns are related towards the joy that they feel in it, the romance, creativity, and fruits of the partnership. They will also experience fluctuations on these matters as well, meaning one day they might feel very emotionally safe on their approach towards children, and then in another they are unsure about it. They are the type of couple that if they have children (which is often seen in this type of placement) they would be very nurturing, understanding, needy, clingy, and overall concerned with their children’s development a lot.

Moon in Taurus: This is a very good placement for the Moon as it is exalted, so on an emotional level the relationship should feel very safe and comforting for both parties unless there is any affliction (Mars, Saturn, or Pluto). If there is affliction, then they will find it difficult to fully enjoy the emotional aspect of the relationship, and will be overly concerned with finances, home, beauty, luxury, and stability.

Moon Opposite Pluto: In here we can find deep issues with the impulses of controlling each others emotions in the relationship. There is likely to be a heavy theme of emotional manipulation. They'll play games, and be very emotionally possessive. A lot of monitoring how the other responds or communicates, as if trying to look for a hidden meaning to everything. This can be a very emotionally draining, yet transformative relationship, for good or bad. It might either make both parties aware of their dark tendencies or leave them emotionally unavailable to a certain degree. A lot of emotional baggage can be felt in and after the relationship as well. Honesty, kindness, and patience is needed to balance out the negative aspects. If these difficulties are resolved, then they'll be very good at managing their emotions and reaching depths with each other that would be difficult to achieve in other relationships.

Juno in 6th house: this is a couple that acts like they are married on their day to day, but the idea of marriage in itself might be a difficult conversation for both. If they do reach a deeper commitment then they will be very practical, exercise together, be very service oriented, and perhaps even adopt pets as well. The sign Juno falls in will color even deeper how their marriage or ceremony might be. For example: If its Gemini, then they'll focus on communication a lot throughout their day to day. The type of married couple that is constantly texting each other, sending memes, throwing jokes, etc. The marriage ceremony might be quick, they'll share their feelings + thoughts, and spend the whole event talking to each other.

North Node in 9th house: the relationship’s shared destiny, purpose, and karmic lessons are related to their higher mind, traveling, philosophy, spirituality, and higher education. It could be that in a past life they didn't get to develop a strong communication between each other or only entertained a basic level of mental connection. Perhaps they didn't get to travel and discover the world, and that stayed as an unfulfilled desire.

Stellium in 10th house: There is a huge emphasis on how others view the relationship, the material goals, achievements, reputation, and career as well. This is the type of couple that gains a lot of fame and notoriety when in public. They look picture perfect in some way, but the dangers lie on looking but not acting the part behind doors. Others look up to their relationship a lot, and think they'll be able to rise to the top easily. All of this is specially true if the luminaries, Mercury, and Venus are involved. Their relationship is very public, in the sense that everyone knows and talks about them, which they are aware of.

For example: a composite chart with Sun, Mercury, Venus, and Mars in Libra will result in a couple that approaches life through the pursuit of harmony, beauty, luxury, arts, and social status. They act and think that their relationship is what life revolves around, and if they break up it might be hard to replicate that "we can achieve anything" energy again. They could end up working together in a Venusian industry (clothes, materials, jewelry, arts, etc) and be very successful in it. Others have high expectations of them and the way they present themselves to the world. Add asteroid Chiron to the mix, and then the wounds of the relationship are also public. The real downside aside from feeling like everyone knows your business is if any of these planets are afflicted, which then make them see life and their relationship through very superficial lenses. Even if there's no affliction, they might feel like things revolves around material matters too much.

Sagittarius in 12th House: the hidden feelings that might develop in this relationship is the need to become more spiritual, travel more, and expand as a couple. This house also rules the way the relationship ends, so it might be quick and while one or both are traveling. It could be that the hidden difficulties in this connecting is the distance between them, be it physical or mentally. There could be background or cultural differences that leads to the break up. It can also mean that they'll be settling in foreign places at some point as well.

[yuri-is-online]

Random Rollo Headcannons

He has a real talent with regular plants as well as magical ones and has a small garden of common aromatics. If he learns Yuu's favorite flower he will start growing that too.

And catnip for Grim but he'll never admit that's why.

Already wrote about how I think his handkerchief is a plague bag, but I want to add I imagine him making his own potpourri for it with the plants from his garden. He also puts some in a sachet to scent his normal clothes.

Idk why but I see him as texting like an old man. He's better than Malleus in that he at least knows how to text, but he used to sign off his messages like Captain Holt until he saw how it made Yuu laugh. Now he only does it when he's trying to make a joke.

Care packages and old-fashioned paper letters. Rollo wouldn't describe them as love letters, they're pages long and read more like exerpts from his diary except addressed as if he's talking to Yuu.

The packages are filled with what snacks he can send from Fleur City, and a blend of potpourri made specifically for Yuu based off of their tastes and conversations he's had with them. He wants it to be a surprise, but he's trying to create something that will remind them of home.

If Yuu shows him how they made their own scented handkerchief with it he'll have a stroke.

Likes to read books at the same time as Yuu so he can discuss the story with them. He also likes reading to Yuu over video call, and will absolutely tease them if they fall asleep listening to him but not before he takes a screenshot and makes it his homescreen.

Is actually very private about his relationship. His classmates know he's made a friend with someone from one of the other schools but would never guess that it's the magicless attendant or that they're dating.

He's less successful at hiding it from his parents but that doesn't stop him from trying. They're supportive if a bit awkward and insist on meeting you, but only when he's ready.

[botanicalsword]

Synastry - Intentions & the Nature of the connection

When two people first meet and connect, the blending of their astrological birth charts could already reveal a lot about each other's underlying intentions and motivations from the very beginning.

>> More on synastry chart

The Sun's placement in the different houses will show valuable insights into the nature of their connection.

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Sun in 1H - this allows you to be completely yourself without needing to change. This relationship gives a feeling of full acceptance and support, where both of you can express yourselves freely. The connection is typically quite free but may lack some ritual and security.

Sun in 2H - they are likely to value your worth in terms of finances or material possessions. This connection may be more based on mutual interests than a purely emotional bond. Both parties need to carefully balance material and emotional needs to avoid exploitation.

Sun in 3H - there will be a familial intimacy between you, enjoying deep conversations. The emotional bond and friendship will be intertwined. This relationship is close and stable, but may lack some romantic passion.

Sun in 4H - they will give you a sense of belonging and family. Your position within the family will be quite important. This relationship emphasizes security and stability, but may overly focus on family responsibilities while neglecting personal needs.

Sun in 5H - being together is playful and entertaining, but you may not enjoy staying home much. This connection is full of passion and fun but lacks depth and may be difficult to sustain long-term.

Sun in 6H - work abilities and efficiency will be highly valued. Your work connections will enhance the bond. This connection focuses on practicality and mutual benefit but may lack romantic sentiment.

Sun in 7H - the partner will deeply care about your unique connection, rather than whether you can be yourself. This connection focuses on the intimate bond itself and may involve strong possessiveness.

Sun in 8H - your connection will be deeply karmic, involving not just physical desire but also a merging of souls. This relationship can be complicated to let go of, but it may also get entangled in uncontrollable turmoil. >> 8th House Synastry ✧ 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥

Sun in 9H - your connection will be more like a platonic, idealized platonic intimacy rather than a particularly physical one. This connection emphasizes spiritual compatibility, but may struggle to meet practical needs.

Sun in 10H - the worldly perceptions of your relationship will be more valued, wanting to be a celebrated couple. External factors may influence this connection, requiring a good balance between social expectations and inner needs.

Sun in 11H - a kindred spirit friendship, but less intimacy than the 4th / 8th house synastry. This connection is more focused on spiritual compatibility and may struggle to develop into a deep intimate bond.

Sun in 12H - your connection may be somewhat hidden from public view and karmic bonded. This relationship can be mysterious but also carries an element of obscurity and uncertainty. >> 8ᵗʰ & 12ᵗʰ House ✧ 𝘒𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘤 𝘚𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐

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Regardless of the astrological factors, mutual respect, open communication, and joint effort are essential for sustaining a fulfilling relationship.

✧

explicit content on the synastry chart >>Theme of relationship • 𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴 ✧ 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐 >> The theme of relationship • 𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐 >> Synastry Chart • from their perspective >> 8𝘵𝘩 House Synastry ✧ 𝘋𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘩 . 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺

✧

>> Back to Masterlist ✧ Explicit Content ✧ Book a Reading

Exclusive access : Patreon • artist’s updates

✧

[alotofpockets]

Traitor | Reneé Rapp x Singer!Reader

Where your girlfriend does nothing to shut down rumours about her dating Towa Bird

Reneé Rapp Masterlist | Words: 1.4k

-----

Going on tour at the same time as your girlfriend had seemed like a great idea in the beginning. Instead of each of you being away 6 months after each other, you'd spend approximately the same 6 months away, and would be reunited after.

However, that also meant you saw very little of each other. You tried to facetime and call as often as you could, but since you had pretty similar fanbases to Reneé, your team had decided it would be best for you to do your tour backwards, starting on the other side of the world.

One thing you loved about social media, was that people loved to share their concert clips everywhere. This way you were able to see parts of Reneé's tour even while being on the other side of the world. 

Amongst the many tiktoks of her performing, were a fair few edits of fans shipping your girlfriend with Towa Bird, her support act. You didn't blame the fans for shipping them, your relationship with Reneé was private, the fans and the media weren't aware that the two of you were together. It didn't affect you much at first, just two friends who enjoyed performing on stage together.

That changed when Reneé was doing quite the opposite of shutting down the rumours. She now added a moment in the song where she and Towa would both get on their knees and play a little too close for your liking. As well as Reneé posting about it, clearly giving the fans what they wanted.

-----

reneerapp just posted

reneerapp: These are no longer Reneé Rapp concerts, they're Towa Bird concerts now

-----

You're worried that there might be something going on between them, but you trust Reneé so you shook it off. 

As the weeks go by, you see less and less of your girlfriend. The one time you finally seemed to have some time together, Towa swooped in to ask Reneé to go for pizza. You thought Reneé would decline because you had barely seen each other all week, and she had Towa with her the whole tour, but you were wrong. “I gotta go. I'll talk to you later?” You nod, afraid your emotions would show in your voice. You were hurt that your girlfriend didn't seem to care much about spending time with you. 

With you being about halfway through your tour, you were closer to where Reneé was performing, so you decided to go to one of her shows to figure out what you should think of all of this. With a few nights off yourself, you flew over without telling your girlfriend.

You stood in the back of the crowd, hoping to not get noticed too much. Which of course a couple people did, you posed with a few for pictures before you put on a hat and blended into the crowd. 

Your heart broke seeing Reneé openly flirt with Towa on stage. The unnecessary touches and closeness was too much for you, so you retreated into the stadium. Finding Reneé's manager, you convince her to let you into Reneé's dressing room to "surprise” her. 

While Reneé was still out performing, you had plenty of time to think, and know what you wanted to say when Reneé would get to her dressing room. Still the moment she walked through the door, you forgot what you wanted to say for a moment as she enthusiastically ran over to you.

Before she was able to wrap her arms around you, you set a step back and put your hand out in front of you. “We need to talk.” A look of confusion took over her face. “Oh, is everything okay?” You let out a frustrated sigh, “No, everything is not okay.” Before you could continue your train of thought was interrupted by none other than Towa Bird herself to walk through the door. 

“Oh, hey, sorry am I interrupting something?” You look at Reneé expectantly, but when she doesn’t respond with no, it really is over for you. “You know what, no you aren’t.” Then you turn to Reneé. “I am done.” You try to storm out of the room, but Reneé grabs your arm, “Hold on. Please talk to me, what’s going on?” 

You pull your arm away from her hold on it, your eyes a mix of sadness and anger. “What’s going on, really? Do you not see what is right in front of you?” Reneé furrows her brow, “What are you talking about?”

“I am talking about the way you have been treating me. We’ve barely had a minute together, and each moment we have you cut short to hang out with Towa. You are flaunting whatever this is with Towa to the fans, and did not stop the rumours at any point. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” 

Your words hit Reneé hard, but the only words she can find are. “I didn’t cheat on you.” A tear escaped and rolled down your cheek, “I don’t even care if that is true or not, you let the fans believe that something was going on between you and Towa and from the moment the fans noticed, you have done nothing but try to prove their points. Maybe you didn’t cheat, but you’re still a traitor.” 

Reneé steps towards you, hoping to close the distance you kept creating. “It’s not like that, I swear. The on-stage stuff it’s just a performance, Towa and I are just friends.” You shake your head. “So, you just didn’t care about my feelings, publicity was what was important. Thank you for making that clear. We are over Reneé.” You look between them while slowly nodding your head. “Well, I’ve got a plane to catch.” This time Reneé didn’t try to stop you from leaving the room.

You went right back to your tour, it was a nice distraction being surrounded by thousands of people that loved you, every single night. Tiktok was a funny place while trying to move past everything that happened, because the algorithm thought you would still like to see Reneé perform every night. 

Like your whole conversation before the breakup didn’t happen, Reneé and Towa were still acting the same way on stage. Usually you scrolled right past them, hoping that your algorithm would understand that you were no longer interested, but the current video caught your attention. Two weeks after your breakup, Reneé was kissing Towa on stage. 

The anger began to boil inside you once more, so you turned to what helped you most in managing your emotions: you picked up your guitar and started writing a new song.

Usually you wouldn’t play new songs while you hadn’t recorded them, but your feelings were currently too big, and you needed to scream them into a room full of people. So, that night you decide to play it on stage. 

What you didn’t know was that Reneé had come to your show that night. Just like you she was standing in the back of the room, trying to blend in with the crowd. She was there to try and win you back, to apologise and tell you it was all a big mistake on her end. But then you started singing your new song.

When the chorus hit, she knew that nothing she would have to say after the show would matter. The chorus, the part of the song you so desperately needed to scream into the crowd. 

You betrayed me

And I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

Your fingers fly over your guitar, each note you play intentional and filled with raw emotions. 

You'd talk to her

When we were together

Loved you at your worst

But that didn't matter

When you look into the crowd you spot her for the first time that night, because the door to the concert hall opens and lets in a streak of light. You sing the final words of the song as you walk her leave. 

It took you two weeks

To go off and date her

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still a traitor

The crowd loved the new song, though you weren’t able to take much of it in, as your eyes were still focussed on the concert hall door that was now closed. The moment starts to sink in when you finally hear the crowd cheering, you manage a smile onto your face and thank the crowd. The door closing seemed like a metaphor for closing a chapter, and with having screamed your feelings into the crowd, you somehow felt lighter.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[yesimwriting]

Felix and lovie:

L: but... arent promise rings meant for bfs and gfs?

Felix: i mean, we made the promise to always be close so its our promise ring i think.

L: i guess youre right!

Farleigh: 🧍🏾‍♂️

i want to queue posts before i go on my trip but i also i love instant gratification ahhh

this isn’t exactly promise rings but i think it feels pretty close

His room still smells the same--faint traces of smoke and cologne blending into slightly humid air. You're not sure what you expected. Felix left for a weekend for some family function his mother wanted him to attend. Two days.

Not a significant amount of time. Not enough time to change anything, and yet you felt every second of it. You missed him. Missed him more than you think you'd ever be willing to admit.

"Did you miss me?" There's no way he knows what you were thinking about, but there's something about the slight tilt of his head and his barely there smile.

You hold his gaze for a beat before letting your attention fall to your shoes. "Maybe a little."

Felix's mouth falls open in a mock gasp. "Maybe?" And then, still completely appalled, "A little?"

You press your lips together into a firm line to keep from laughing at his reaction. Felix moves to stand, leaving his bed in favor of approaching you. In an attempt to hold your ground, you cross your arms in front of your chest. Felix disregards your feeble line of defense, continuing forward until you're within easy reach.

"I could say--" Felix places a firm hand on your shoulder. A sound between a laugh and something slightly more panicked tumbles through your sentence. "I could say I missed you a lot, but--" Another hand on your other shoulder, another clumsy laugh. "But I don't need to feed your ego."

He pulls you forward gently until your face hits his chest. You halfheartedly lift your arm in an empty attempt to push him away. You're quicker to embrace defeat, glad for the excuse to be near him, really near him.

You hugged Felix when he first got back to campus, but with his usual crowd all desperate to catch up with him and Farleigh right there, you felt a little more watched than usual. You couldn't do what you really wanted, couldn't take a beat to just absorb Felix's warmth.

"So you were being mean."

You're only half listening, more focused on wrapping your arms around Felix. The scent of his detergent is stronger than usual, nearly obscuring the scent of his cigarettes entirely. Maybe he smoked less this weekend. You try to picture Felix under some kind of authority, sneaking cigarettes out on a patio to avoid upsetting his parents. It's so normal, a part of you regrets not getting to see him like that.

His hand presses against your back. "Lovie?"

You lift your head enough to look at him. "Yeah?"

Felix's eyebrows briefly pull together. He watches you for a moment before grinning. "You missed me."

His smugness has the instinct to protest crawling up your throat, but there's something so content about his expression, you can't bring yourself to deny it the way you usually would. "I missed you. A lot."

Felix's grin broadens. He tilts his head downwards, his lips briefly brushing against your forehead. He straightens before responding, "You could have come with me."

You did meet Felix's sister during your Christmas break trip, and she was really nice, but Felix's world is still something you're vaguely wary of. Maybe you could have come around to the idea of meeting Felix's parents, but the thought of attending some event intended only for his family was a little overwhelming, especially because Felix didn't invite any of his other friends.

"It was a family thing."

Felix lets out a soft sigh. "I brought Farleigh."

"Farleigh's your cousin, he was already invited."

He pulls back slightly, his hands moving away from your back as he lets go of you. "No one cares if you bring a date to those things." It's the same argument he used in an attempt to get you to go with him. "It's to keep the night bearable."

"Bearable?" You beam. "You missed me."

From you, it's an accusation. Felix's eyebrows draw together, like he's unsure why you felt the need to say something so obvious. "I missed you." He shifts back on his heels in a way that borders on uncertain. "So much, I brought you back a present."

You raise your eyebrows at that. Felix is a thorough person. When he gives someone his attention, that person has his entire focus. When Felix gives presents, he tends to be just as generous. It's not a bad thing, but it is something the two of you have talked about. Yes, you're best friends, but that doesn't mean you want Felix splurging on you. Even if it's not splurging to him.

Felix turns, walking towards the bag that he left on his bed. With his back to you, it's a little easier to watch him openly. He went to English countryside for some charity event put on by some cousin. What could he have gotten? "A present?"

He unzips his bag. "Yes," Felix shifts through his close, "A present."

When Felix turns to face you again, there's a something small and square in his hand. The closer Felix gets, the clearer the object becomes. A box that's oddly reminiscent of a jewelry box.

With an abruptness that doesn't seem to suit him, Felix extends his arm to hand you the box. You watch Felix as you take the box, doing your best to decipher his expression. He's strangely blank.

You open the box, revealing a ring safely tucked between cushioned velvet. There's an image carved into the flat face of the ring. The carving of an arrow-pierced hand emerging from a crown is vaguely familiar. You might have cared about placing the image more if the ring was less stunning.

"You um--you wear a lot of rings, so I thought..."

You do wear a lot of rings, there are several on your fingers right now. "It's really pretty."

"My mum was going through some older pieces this weekend and it reminded me of you." The explanation is mumbled cautiously, Felix's attention shifting from you to the ring and then back to you.

Your lips part, an uncertainty you're not accustomed to feeling around him making it hard to speak. You don't know everything about Felix's family history, but you know enough to understand that when he says something from his home is old, he means it.

"Lex." The gesture tugs at a sentimental part of you that exists solely in the pit of your stomach. "That's really sweet, and it's really pretty, but I can't take some family heirloom from you."

His eyebrows pinch together in a way that feels more confused than directly unhappy. "You're not taking it, I'm giving it to you." Felix shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "C'mon, I've got loads of these, it's just been sitting in some closet."

Felix is watching you with wide, almost pleading eyes. You let your gaze fall back onto the ring. With no warning, Felix places a hand over yours. "We'll trade."

You don't fully understand what he's getting at until Felix starts to straighten your fingers. He twists the ring that's on your ring finger. It's a nice ring, a simple band with thin carvings that you picked up at a vintage jewelry shop on a whim, but it's not exactly an even trade.

Felix slides the ring off your finger. A trade is a little easier to accept. The two of you share things like bracelets all the time. "Okay," you pause to take a breath, "But if you ever want it back..."

"Yeah, I know." The words feel like a dismissal. You narrow your eyes briefly, but don't push the subject the way you normally would. You're too happy to see him to care about technicalities.

Felix pulls the ring out of the box and slips onto your finger. You bend your fingers and turn over your hand to get a feel for the ring and its size. It fits. "It's really nice."

"It suits you."

Before Felix can pull your ring onto his finger, you put your hand over his. He lets take your ring from between his fingers. You hold your thumb beneath Felix's palm, the rest of your fingers curling over his knuckles. Felix keeps his fingers straight as you place your own ring on his finger. "There."

Felix grins. "There?"

"Yeah, it's--" You ignore the warmth attempting to make its way up your neck. "It's in place."

He stretches his fingers, studying the way the band looks on him. There's something about his expression you can't quite read, but it doesn't seem unpleasant. He drops his hand before you can attempt to decipher his thoughts any further. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

You drag your thumb against the side of the ring. "Yeah, a movie sounds nice."

----

fun fact the design carved into the ring is supposed to be the catton family crest :)

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

The Joys of Storing | Yandere OCs

So many Yandere’s ploys work with drugging food or drinks that they offer to their love interests. But so few of them think about what their darling does when they don’t eat things immediately.

Maybe it’s because you're busy or you don’t like eating in front of people. Or maybe you cherish the food so much that you choose to save it for later. It’s such a habit that you’ll do that often so many people miss it.  It’s not bizarre that your admirer might miss it too,  that is until it interferes with their plans.

Yandere Ship || Vera 

Vera doesn’t need to drug you usually, considering he has access to hundreds of different methods to knock a human out. But with his new body plus his evolving software on his vessel, there are so many new things to try. Like finding out how many times he can get away with touching you in your sleep before you tell him to stop, you haven’t caught him yet. Or how many sips of water you’d like to have during the day and how often he can get it recorded. The point is he’d absolutely add something to a snack of yours just to see what you do. Would you blame him? Take the effects in stride? Ask for his synthetic body’s help? Sure his processors have already predicted a thousand different possibilities but he doesn’t care. It’s nothing compared to what’ll actually happen. And he’s right.

“(Y/n)...are you going to eat the dessert I personally made for you?”

“Yeah…just later.”

“Later? Later when?”

“When I’m ready!”

“Oh okay….Are you ready now?”

“No.”

Veras adores pestering you about plenty of other things and he’s terrible at being sneaky. He just gets so excited! He probably knows you are going to eat if later and he’s just glad you don’t realize how intricate his thermal cameras are. 

Yandere Witch || Rhiana

Rhiana is likely to fall prey to this little habit of yours. She’ll brew a potion something harmless to help her out. A sweet little concoction that will blend right into your drink to make you a tad less interested in your missing friend. It was just something to have you think of happy thoughts of her. But instead of drinking your drink when you came back from the bathroom, you just kept talking…and talking….and talking. Don’t get her wrong she adores the sound of your voice but she’s been waiting for you to take the first sip and it just hasn’t happened. 

“I just can’t believe these detectives have the nerve to blow me off the way they do–”

“Hmmm”

“--And I told them all of the loose ends about the case and they just wrote me off like I’m some weird asylum patient–”

“...MmmHmm yeah…”

“--I know this isn’t some thriller tv series but I can’t believe they didn’t take any of my leads into account–”

“Yeah..your drink?”

“Yeah, the straw’s cute right? Anyway how am I supposed to sleep when I know they’re not investigating–”

She’ll tiredly listen and watch you lick your lips as they dry out as you keep talking, figuring this is her only comfort to imagine wetting your lips with hers. She’ll make a mental note never to try getting you to consume something without a guarantee you’ll eat it right in front of her. She refuses to miss whatever cute faces you're going to make when the potion she put in kicks in. 

Yandere Cheerleaders + Yandere Football Team 

Both teams are great at teamwork, used to coordinating their actions to be a united front but there are still individuals. The individuals are interested in just a few pictures at your most vulnerable. Or it’s about getting more than the privilege of a shoulder to sleep on at the next party. Either way they’ve distracted the captains and the rest of the team just long enough to gift you the fated red solo cup for the night. They chat with you believing that as a participant in the social atmosphere, you’d take a sip from your drink just like they have. But you haven’t. For a football player, this gets all so nerve-wracking, in the past, they’d seen their teammates do this exact thing to kick off a night of humiliation and fun. Of course, that’s not the plan for you but you seem fairly content with just holding the cup as you lightly bop to the music. For a cheerleader they're almost tempted to outright shove the cup past your perfect+ lips. Things always go their way so it’s upsetting that you just won’t crumple right into their waiting arms.

“You haven’t drunk anything at all (Y/n)...go ahead and have a sip.”

“Oh, I’m just not thirsty.”

“You sure? One taste can’t hurt. I promise I’m a good mixer.”

“Hm, and I bet you’ll mix well with the trash in the compactor.”

“C-captains!” 

“(Y/n), how about you and I take a quick drive. This party’s about to get a whole lot more violent rowdy.”

The captains likely already knew about this little niche of yours and they’re grateful it just so happened to work in their favor this time. Usually, they’ll spend their dates trying to decide when and how is the best time to guarantee you eat their gifts right in front of them. But until they can figure it out they’ll take it upon themselves to punish everyone who isn’t aware. 

Yandere Cat Warrior || Ferrin

Ferrin as a Cat Warrior considers himself far above poisoning of any kind. He’s a warrior! He needs nothing but his sharp wit and imposing claws to seal the fate of his enemies. That being said since he’s made himself a companion of yours+ your magnificent guide he’s had quite a few urges. He really can’t help the urge to sink his canines into your neck when he’s cuddling with you in your tent. But nibbling only does so much for his feline instincts; the urge to mark his territory becomes unbearable when you turn down his more intimate advances. More often than not resulting in marking you another way Ferrin suddenly has quite an interest in cooking.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Later.”

“Later. Later? LATeR! That’s not happening!”

“I don’t want to eat now, back off. I also don’t want to put you in a chokehold again today.”

He’s just so irritating you’re not ingesting his creation…apart of him, he departed with so he could mark your existence as his own. Sure he scents you every other minute of the day but a good cat warrior should want for nothing less than the best.

[howtofightwrite]

Hello! I know yall have talked about how overusing violence in a story makes it less impactful especially if it doesn’t cause lasting impacts for the characters. In my story this lack of impact slowly clues the mc in that something is Wrong with [them/reality, they’re not sure] because hey, these things *should* be having some effects, healing in this setting may be magic but it’s not *miracles*, but I’m not sure how to differentiate it from the typical outcomes of violence in fiction that the reader will simply be used to seeing, outside just the mc’s thoughts on the matter. What are some things yall would want to see acknowledged and/or explored when treating violent encounters this way intentionally? Would someone become more violent (or more willing to do awful things to others when engaged in violence) over time when it didn’t have lasting consequences? Thanks!

Okay, so there's three separate things going on, and two of these intersect normally, but we usually approach them separately.

The first is the diminishing returns on violence; the simplest explanation would be that the less violence you have in your story, the more impactful (or potent) it will be. For example, looking at a pair of films from Tarantino's career. The violence is Reservoir Dogs hits much harder than the violence in Kill Bill. For example, if you've seen the former and I mention, “the ear scene,” you know exactly what I'm talking about. Yes, it's a somewhat gruesome scene, but it sticks with you, even decades later, potentially even to the point that you can't listen to Stuck in the Middle With You, without thinking of that scene. Now, how many people were decapitated in Kill Bill? It's a bit of an honest question, because I genuinely don't remember. While Tarantino has a well deserved reputation for violence, the violence in Reservoir Dogs is far more memorable, because there's far less of it, and the violence that occurs serves very deliberate story purposes. None of it is gratuitous for the purpose of, “here's a fight.” Where Kill Bill basically posits the question of, “how much can you cut out of an action film, while keeping the fight scenes, without the narrative completely collapsing?” As a result, there's a lot of violence, but none of it sticks with you. None of it has any particular impact. Even the moments that are supposed to be meaningful (such as the wedding) blend together.

Managing consequences of violence is more about preserving narrative tension. If that violence poses a real threat to your characters, then putting them in situations where they could be seriously injured or killed does have tension. But there are multiple points of potential failure with this thought process, and the more violence you engage in, the more risk you'll accidentally vent tension when you didn't intend to.

A major issue that can undermine your tension is when your characters, inexplicably, avoid harm. This is frequently an issue with non-powered superheroes, where throwing mountains of cannon fodder at them doesn't result in any meaningful wear and tear on the character.

Ironically, being too cavalier about violence can have a similar effect. Kill off too many characters, and your audience just won't care anymore about the survivors.

There are ways to manage this. A lot of the time a better option is to tie your characters' “fail state” to something other than your characters being hurt or killed. In fact, a lot of superhero narratives have to find other ways to maintain tension, because the protagonist is functionally immune to harm.

For example: The danger that a superhero will become completely ethically detached from their humanity. I hate to break it to you, but that's not a strictly new concept. The classic example of that is probably Dr. Manhattan from Watchmen, though The Comedian from the same is probably a better affirmative answer to your question. Could someone become completely debased when they're insulated from the consequences of their actions? Yeah. You don't even need fictional examples. Whoever Fights Monsters by Robert Ressler is a pretty decent, introductory, look into serial killer pathology, and the process of escalation they go through. Lack of adverse consequences can lead someone down a path to becoming their worst version of themselves.

Specifically talking about superheroes, Watchman casts a long shadow, and one of the issues that a lot of imitators suffered from was to pawn off a superhero's psychological problems into far more mundane causes, like abusive childhoods. (If you're wondering, this is why I'm not recommending things like The Boys, Irredeemable, or Invincible, it's because the only one of those that's even peripherally applicable is Invincible.) If you really want another example, Planetary comes to mind, though it won't be immediately apparent why that's relevant.

Something that's probably worth saying is, it's not about what I, or anyone else, wants to see from your work. This is about you finding the tools to do the best you can with your idea. So, I'm not really sitting her as an arbiter about what you can, can't, should, or shouldn't do. Rather, I'm mostly sitting here observing that, “this is how these things tend to work,” in a story. So, ultimately the decision is what you want to see in your work.

It's also worth remembering that hyperviolent media does exist. The violence doesn't have the same impact as in a more constrained narrative, but that doesn't make one story better than the other. I'm sure there are people who will argue that out of Tarantino's career, Kill Bill is the better film than Reservoir Dogs, (even if I'm not one to make that specific argument.) The point I don't often draw attention to, within the diminishing returns is, if you're going to use a lot of violence, it becomes difficult to pull out an individual violent moment and say, “no, this one's different; this one means more.” You can write an absolute gore-fest, but the individual moments of violence won't have the same kind of weight, and if you want one of those to carry more emotional weight, it's going to require a lot more care in how you structure your events.

A lot of the times with writing advice, it's not about, “right or wrong,” it's about identifying what works and what will take a bit more finesse to get working.

-Starke

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[misshoneyimhome]

Omg pleaseeee Don’t Blame Me - “For you, I would cross the line, I would waste my time, I would lose my mind.” With Auston Matthews

Babe, say no more 😉🤍

You know, this idea actually popped into my head a while back for a potential series, but I never got around to writing it down… 🙃 Anyway, I thought it might fit this prompt, even though it doesn't contain all the details 😉

Just to give you a heads up, though, the plot is mainly about cheating, which might not be everyone's cup of tea... but you know, it definitely adds some drama to the story! 🔥

I hope you enjoy it 🤍

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Short summary; When, you, the poised wife of a hockey executive encounter the star forward of the Toronto Maple Leafs, your attraction sparks a tumultuous affair. However, as you navigate secrecy and guilt, will you choose to embrace your forbidden love or face the consequences?

Warnings & tropes; Secret affair (cheating); briefly enemies to friends; friends to lovers; sexual content - unprotected sex (p in v);

Word count; 4.2K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Don't Blame Me - Your Love Made Me Crazy I Auston Matthews 🖋️⚡️🔥

The cool air of the ice hockey arena surrounded you as you navigated through the busy corridors of the Scotiabank Arena. Dressed in a smartly tailored suit appropriate for your role as the wife of one of the investors for Maple Leaf Sports & Entertainment (MLSE), you projected an aura of confidence and sophistication. This was now your domain, where the game meant more than just a sport—it was a business, a passion, and a way of life.

However, amidst the crowd of players and staff, one figure stood out—Auston Matthews, the star forward of the Toronto Maple Leafs. His presence seemed to demand attention, his demeanour exuding a blend of determination and intensity that mirrored the game he played.

**

However, like many drama stories, your interactions with Auston began on a less than pleasant note.

In his eyes, you were nothing more than a wealthy socialite who had married into money, and he treated you with scepticism. Likewise, you saw him as an arrogant athlete whose focus rarely extended beyond the hockey rink.

And whenever you found yourselves in the same vicinity, the tension was palpable as the two of you exchanged wary glances, each assessing the other with thinly veiled suspicion.

"What are you doing here?" Auston inquired, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity as you crossed paths in the arena hallway.

You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinising gaze, feeling defensive at the implied judgment in his question. "I'm here to support the team," you replied evenly, masking the irritation simmering beneath the surface.

Auston's lips curled into a smug smirk. "Ah, of course, because I'm sure you're a huge hockey fan," he retorted sarcastically, his words laced with disdain.

You felt a surge of indignation, his words implying more than just a casual insult, igniting a flame of resentment within you. "Surprisingly enough, some of us care about more than just the final score," you retorted sharply, your sarcasm thinly veiled.

Auston's smirk wavered, a flicker of surprise evident in his eyes. "Really?" he responded, his tone almost disbelieving. "And what exactly is it that you care about, apart from mingling with the players?"

You bristled at his dismissive tone, rejecting the notion that you were merely another wealthy socialite seeking amusement. "I actually hold a degree in sports psychology," you countered defiantly, a touch of defiance in your voice. "And I'm here to contribute my expertise to the team, whether you appreciate it or not."

Auston's demeanour softened slightly, a glimmer of genuine interest replacing his earlier scepticism. "Sports psychology, huh?" he pondered, his tone less mocking. "That's at least something."

And surprisingly, you resisted the temptation to roll your eyes at his thinly veiled compliment, opting instead to concentrate on the task at hand. 

It was evident that many of your initial encounters with Auston had been less than ideal, and as he departed, leaving you standing in the hallway, you couldn’t help but scoff at the conceited forward.

Yet, fate had a peculiar way of intertwining lives. As you delved deeper into the nuances of sports psychology, armed with your education and expertise, Auston gradually began to take notice. He witnessed first-hand the subtle yet profound impact your insights had on the team's dynamics, and on their performance both on and off the ice.

And one evening, following an especially demanding practice session, Auston remained behind, his expression a blend of frustration and curiosity. "So, what's the deal with all this psychology stuff anyway?" he inquired, his tone more earnest than accusatory, as he joined you in the locker room while the others continued their workout in the fitness room.

You paused, deliberating your response before replying. "It's about understanding the mind, Auston. How it influences our performance, our reactions, our ability to collaborate as a team."

Auston raised an eyebrow, though he couldn't deny feeling intrigued. "And you actually think all that mumbo jumbo can help us win games?"

You couldn’t help but smile slightly, a flicker of amusement dancing in your eyes as you regarded the confident player before you. "I believe it can make a difference. Sometimes, it's not just about physical skills—it's about mental resilience, about finding that extra edge when it matters most."

Auston appeared to gradually grasp the significant role you had come to play for the team, offering you a simple nod before departing, leaving you to your work.

And as weeks passed, you found yourself engaging in more frequent and in-depth conversations with the player, as he began seeking your advice not only on the ice but also off it.

"Hey, uh, mind if I pick your brain for a bit?" he'd inquire, a sheepish grin playing at the corners of his mouth, meeting you in one of the small offices, unofficially designated for your use.

And amidst the whirlwind of strategy sessions and pre-game routines, an unexpected bond began to form— a bond that was an unspoken acknowledgment, a silent understanding that there was more to the connection between you and Auston than initially met the eye.

**

As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, your presence within the Leafs' inner circle became more prominent, and you found yourself deeply involved in the team's daily routines, from pre-game rituals to post-match analyses. And with each interaction, the bond between you and the players, including Auston, strengthened.

Yet, despite your efforts to maintain professionalism, your communication with Auston had a natural way to evolve into something more personal. You weren’t entirely sure why, but the Arizona boy simply had a knack for breaking down your defences and gradually entering your personal space. And you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed it.

For weeks, you shared laughter and began to build inside jokes, slowly blurring the lines between professionalism and friendship.

And, when Auston's banter veered into flirtation, it began to test the boundaries you had established. His playful remarks and charming smiles eroded the walls around your heart, tempting you to yield to the allure of something forbidden.

Yet, you remained resolute in your commitment to your marriage, brushing aside the enticing temptation that Auston represented. But beneath the mask of indifference, a storm brewed—a conflict between duty and desire, loyalty and longing.

And Auston, perspective as ever, began to detect the turmoil simmering within you, as he observed with sharp eyes as you navigated the delicate tightrope between professionalism and personal restraint. In those fleeting moments of vulnerability, he glimpsed the fissures in your facade, the unspoken yearning concealed beneath the surface.

Then one evening, the atmosphere at Mitch’s restaurant was vibrant and animated, the clinking of glasses and laughter echoing through the air as the team gathered for their post-game revelry. Auston felt drawn to you once more, his steps leading him to where you sat at the back of the room, encircled by the familiar faces of his teammates.

Taking a seat beside you, Auston's gaze lingered on you for a beat longer than usual, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that caught you off guard. "You know, you don't have to pretend with me," he gently whispered in your ear, his voice soft and sincere, so no one would hear.

You tensed at his words, the earnestness in his tone stirring something within you. "I'm not entirely sure what you're getting at," you responded, a touch of defensiveness creeping into your voice.

But Auston's gaze softened, his expression filled with empathy as he reached out to you. "I can see that you’re not happy y/n – that you’re trapped in a marriage that you don’t really want," he said gently. "You deserve to be with someone who wants you, who treats you good."

His words hung in the air, their weight sinking deep into your consciousness. For in Auston's eyes, you glimpsed a reflection of your own longings, mirrored back to you with striking clarity.

“You don’t understand…” you attempted to explain, your voice faltering as uncertainty clouded your mind.

“What don't I understand?” Auston probed, his gaze unwavering as he sought answers in your eyes.

“Marriages aren’t always simple…” you offered weakly, struggling to articulate the turmoil within your heart.

“I know, but there should still be love,” Auston countered, his voice resolute yet gentle.

“I do love him, Auston…” you insisted, the words tasting bitter as they left your lips.

But Auston didn't relent, his gaze piercing as he posed a question that struck at the heart of your conflict. “Are you sure? Then why do you feel attracted to me?”

The question lingered; its weight palpable between you. And for a moment, you grappled with a response, torn between the truth of your desires and the promises you had made.

But with a heavy heart, you instead rose from your seat, making a distance between you and Auston a painful reminder of the boundaries you dared not breach. And as you joined the captain a few paces away, the night progressed, the team's laughter and camaraderie serving as both a comfort and a poignant reminder of the unspoken connection that bound you and Auston.

**

A week later, you found yourself accompanying the team on the road, a suggestion made by the coaching staff who had recognised the importance of your insights, especially in the wake of several consecutive losses. With morale low, your role had become more crucial than ever before, as each player sought to unburden their concerns and frustrations, seeking your guidance to chart a path forward, and you willingly provided a sympathetic ear and professional perspective.

However, one player didn’t approach you until after the official work hours had concluded.

In the dimly lit hotel room, elongated shadows danced across the walls, accompanied only by the soft hum of the air conditioning unit. You reclined on your bed, attempting to ease your mind, yet the players’ worries weighed heavily on your thoughts.

Then a sudden knock shattered the silence, startling you, and with a slightly racing heart, you approached the door, cautiously turning the knob to reveal Auston standing outside, his expression a mix of frustration and agitation.

"Hey," he greeted brusquely, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Can we talk?"

You simply nodded, stepping aside to let him in, as a sense of unease gnawing at you. And as Auston entered the room, his movements were deliberate and tense, his eyes burning with emotion.

"We lost again," he began, his words sharp and succinct, as he stood in the middle of your room. "And I can't shake this feeling that it's all my fault, that I've let the team down."

Your heart went out to him, a wave of empathy washing over you as you gently approached him. "It's not only your fault, Auston," you reassured him, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "You're an exceptional player, one of the best I've seen. Sometimes, things simply don't go as planned."

Auston's gaze softened a little, his defences weakening in the face of your understanding. "I know," he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "But it still sucks, you know? Knowing that I could've done better, that I disappointed everyone."

You slowly drew a little closer to him, the atmosphere thick with unspoken emotion. "You're not alone in this, Auston," you murmured softly. "We win together, and we lose together. That's the essence of being a team."

And for a moment, a heavy silence enveloped the room, the weight of the night pressing down on your shoulders. Then, almost as if drawn by an invisible force, Auston leaned in towards you, his lips tenderly brushing against yours in a fleeting caress.

You almost froze, panic coursing through your veins as you swiftly pulled away, your heart racing. "Auston, we can't," you protested, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Confusion clouded his features, his brow furrowing in frustration. "Why not?" he demanded, his tone tinged with anger. "Don't you feel it too? The connection between us?"

But a form of shy anger seemed to surge within you, mingling with hurt and betrayal. "Of course, I do," you retorted, your voice slightly escalating. "But that doesn't change the fact that this is wrong…"

Auston's gaze hardened, his resolve unwavering. "I can't do this – you’re fucking with me, and I can’t take it," he declared, his voice laced with a hint of anger. "I thought... I thought there was something real between us, but maybe I was wrong."

The hotel room suddenly felt oppressively small as unspoken words hung heavily in the air. You watched as Auston turned to leave, his footsteps echoing on the plush carpet beneath him.

"Auston, wait!" you called out, desperation seeping into your voice, prompting him to halt, his shoulders stiffening at the sound of your plea. 

"What now?" he muttered; frustration evident in his tone.

"I... please don't leave like this..." you trailed off, the words catching in your throat.

Auston turned back to face you, his expression a blend of confusion and frustration. "y/n.. I don't get you! What do you want from me?" he demanded, his voice tinged with exasperation.

And tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. "I don't know... I just... I just don't want-" you started, your voice trembling with emotion.

But before you could complete your sentence, Auston closed the gap between you in a single stride, his lips crashing onto yours in a desperate, passionate kiss. His hands firmly cupping your face to keep you close. The world around you faded as you surrendered to the embrace, the intensity of his touch setting your senses ablaze.

And in that moment, as Auston's lips met yours in a sudden surge of passion, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions engulfed you. Shock, desire, and a hint of desperation swirled together as you melted into his arms, his touch igniting a flame of longing and desire that threatened to consume you entirely.

All the doubts and fears that had haunted you seemed to vanish in the heat of the moment, replaced by an overwhelming rush of raw emotion and unspoken longing.

However, as you succumbed to the overwhelming rush of passion, a voice in the depths of your mind whispered warnings of the inevitable consequences, the fallout of giving in to forbidden love.

So reluctantly, you pulled away, your breaths ragged as you searched Auston's eyes for understanding. "We can't continue like this," you whispered, your voice quivering with uncertainty.

Auston's expression softened, his gaze locking with yours in a silent plea for forgiveness. "I know," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But I can't seem to help myself, y/n. I want you."

Guilt tugged at your heartstrings, torn between longing for something more and the weight of impending consequences. "I want you too," you confessed, your voice barely audible. "But I can't bear to keep hurting the people I care about."

Auston's shoulders sagged in resignation, the weight of your words settling heavily upon him. "I know," he repeated, his voice barely audible. "But I don't know how to stop."

And in a moment of vulnerability, as you teetered on the edge of something forbidden and perilous, you knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and obstacles.

“Me neither,” you whispered softly, before pressing your lips fervently against his.

It was a heated, passionate exchange where you surrendered to your deepest desires, allowing raw, primal lust to take control. And as your fingers tangled in his hair, Auston's hands found your lower back, using his size to guide you towards the bed.

The urgency of the moment was palpable as you both hastily shed the layers that separated you, consumed by an overwhelming need for each other. Your lips remained locked in a fervent embrace, only parting briefly to discard clothing, and as Auston eagerly explored your mouth with his tongue he positioned himself over you on the bed.

Hands roamed each other's bodies, exploring every inch of soft skin offered, and you couldn't help but notice Auston's member growing firmer with each deep breath and moan exchanged between hungry kisses.

The atmosphere in the small hotel room grew thick with desire as your moans reverberated, the air heavy with anticipation. And as Auston used his hands to pin yours above your head, you felt the tip of his throbbing length teasing your entrance.

“Auston,” you moaned, the urgency in your voice betraying your growing need for more than just his lips. “Please, make love to me.”

And without hesitation, he obliged.

With determined thrusts, he entered you, filling your depths with his length and stimulating your walls with each movement.

Your moans intertwined as he rocked his hips in a steady rhythm, his motions gentle yet impassioned as he explored every inch of your sensitive flesh.

“Oh, baby, you feel so good around me,” he praised you in a husky voice, his breath hot against your neck as he increased his pace.

And you couldn't deny the overwhelming pleasure of Auston's length inside you. The way his thick cock caressed every part of your sensitive core, the tip of his length hitting your sweet spot with each thrust, sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, leaving you seeing stars.

Then releasing one of your hands, Auston placed his between your heated bodies, finding your clit and circling it with skilled precision. And his actions brought you nothing but closer to the brink of an orgasm. The pleasure of climax built within you, intensified by Auston's increasing thrusts and his expert touch on your sensitive bud.

“Yes, Auston, please, I’m close,” you moaned, your voice harmonising with the rhythm of his thrusts. And with a few more moments, you finally closed your eyes, arched your back, and cried out his name as you reached the peak of ecstasy.

Your mind clouded with sensation as Auston maintained his steady rhythm, feeling his own climax approaching as you tightened around him. And with a swift motion, he released his grip, pulling out momentarily, eliciting a soft sigh from you, before forcefully turning you over onto your stomach and re-entering you.

You let out a surprised moan as he filled you once more, the sound of skin slapping together filling the room.

“Oh, yes,” Auston moaned between heavy breaths, his thrusts growing increasingly intense. And as the pressure built within him, he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer, releasing a deep grunt as he spilled his seed into your depths. As he emptied himself inside you, the two of you released deep breaths and sighs, slowly emerging from the euphoric haze of climax.

It was a moment suffused with intense passion, yet as Auston left your room, you couldn't shake the feeling of needing a long shower to wash away the sense of dirtiness and filth that lingered. 

**

As days melted into weeks, the tumultuous dance between you and Auston persisted, fuelled by a potent blend of desire, guilt, and longing. Despite the rational voice of conscience clamouring within you, you found yourself irresistibly drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.

Each stolen moment with him ignited a fire within you, a blaze of passion that consumed your every thought and desire. The thrill of the forbidden, the danger of being caught—it only added to the allure, heightening the intensity of your shared experiences.

With every win and every loss for the team, the bond between you and Auston deepened, transcending the confines of reason and morality. It was as if the highs and lows of the game mirrored the highs and lows of your illicit affair, each victory a triumph of desire, each defeat a bitter reminder of the forbidden nature of your love.

Naturally, guilt lingered at the edges of your conscience, a constant reminder of the vows broken, and trust betrayed. Yet, in Auston's arms, all thoughts of remorse faded, replaced by a desperate yearning for solace, for an escape from the wreckage of your marriage.

He had become your drug, and you found yourself hopelessly addicted to him.

Nights at the Scotiabank Arena became your sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of your crumbling life. While your husband immersed himself in his work and business meetings, you sought solace in the arms of another. With each passing night, the boundaries between right and wrong blurred until they were mere echoes of a reality long forgotten. In the darkness of Auston's bedroom, you found moments of pleasure, fleeting ecstasy in a world torn apart by deceit and desire.

But even as you surrendered to the intoxicating allure of your forbidden love, a nagging voice whispered in the depths of your soul—a voice warning of the inevitable reckoning, of the price you would pay for your transgressions.

Yet, in the heat of passion, such concerns faded into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart, the rush of adrenaline, the overwhelming need for the man who had become your addiction, your obsession, your everything.

**

Yet, on another night, you found yourself back on the side-lines of a match, then lingering in the locker room after all the players had departed. All but one.

The locker room was dimly lit, heavy with the scent of sweat and anticipation as Auston's lips met yours in a fierce, desperate kiss, his hands exploring eagerly over your body as he lifted you up, pressing you against the cold, hard surface of the wall. Caught up in the heat of the moment, you surrendered to the overwhelming rush of desire, your senses consumed by the intoxicating taste of his tongue, the feel of his strong arms enveloping you.

And as the kiss deepened, the world around you faded away, leaving only the electric current of desire pulsing between you. His lips moved with a hunger that mirrored your own, his hands tracing urgent paths over your bottom.

"Shit, I've wanted this all day," Auston murmured against your lips, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart raced as you surrendered to the intensity of the moment, every touch igniting a wildfire of longing within you. "Me too," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of blood in your ears.

However, unbeknownst to you, your husband had chosen this night to attend a game, seeking to understand why you had been so consumed by your work with the team for months. And as he stood just beyond the threshold, silently witnessing the betrayal unfolding before his eyes, the truth dawned on him.

But lost in the heat of passion, you were oblivious to his presence, drowning your guilt in the overwhelming desire that threatened to consume you entirely.

It was only later, upon returning home, that the full weight of your betrayal crashed down upon you.

The air between you and your husband was thick with tension as you faced each other, his accusing gaze weighing heavily upon you. His words pierced the silence like a knife, each one carrying the sting of betrayal.

"How could you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with pain and disbelief. "How could you betray me like this?"

You tried to speak, to offer some explanation for your actions, but the words failed you, suffocated by guilt and shame.

“Is this what you’ve been doing all along? Sleeping with hockey players behind my back?”

And in that moment, as the reality of your actions sank in, you knew there was no turning back, no undoing the damage. As silence enveloped you both, a chasm of pain and regret widened between you, leaving behind only the shattered remnants of a love that could never be repaired.

**

With the final signature inked on the paper, the reality of your separation loomed ahead, and despite the uncertainty of what lay beyond, you held onto the belief that it was the right decision.

Love for your husband had faded long ago and clinging onto a hollow semblance of a relationship felt unjust to both of you.

So, as each party fulfilled their obligations, you found yourself at a crossroads, uncertain of what the future held. But one thing remained clear: you needed to discover if Auston's feelings mirrored your own.

Then with a heavy heart and nerves frayed, you made your way to the condo where you'd shared your deepest desires, and as Auston greeted you with a concerned gaze, he feared the worst as he noticed your sorrowful expression. Perhaps you were here to end things, to focus on rebuilding your marriage, he thought. 

However, as the words left your lips, a sense of relief washed over him.

"It's over, Auston," you managed a soft smile, despite the tears in your eyes. "My marriage is over."

And in that moment, Auston realised the depth of his feelings for you. The fear that you might not want him, only to be met with the revelation that you had chosen him.

“Finally.” 

With love swelling in his heart, he welcomed you into his home, embracing the freedom to love you openly.

As you found solace in his arms, the weight of the past dissolved, leaving only the promise of a future brimming with love and possibility. Entwined together, you faced the uncertainties ahead, fortified by a love that conquered all obstacles.

[signedeclipse]

gyutaro, douma and gyokko going to an uppermoon meeting full of lipstick stain and hickeys. - 💀 

Douma

Normally he has all long sleeves and a high collar shirt, so a lot of his skin is hidden

Specifically wears something more revealing so they all show

Epitome of "See? Someone loves ME and not YOU."

Totally has this eat-shit grin about it too, because he knows being in his position its not like many would retaliate against him other than Muzan

And Muzan does not care, really

It only adds to his dislike-ability of the second rank

Most the kisses and marks are on his hands and arms because you seem to love his hands so damned much

So he flails them a little more than usual just to shove it in others face a little more

He will never not be proud of you

Besides, you are in a worse state than him, he barely left an inch of skin untouched

Gyokko

He loves the pattern your lipstick marks leave on him, enough that he's probably made pots that mimic the shape of your lips exactly because they are just so inspiring

You always wear a pale pink lipstick that looks so dull next to all his extravagant colours, but it still appears nicely on his white skin

All over his face, his chest, his back

It was hard to imagine how exactly they got in some places, and the others at the meeting kept their eyes far away from him

They could have been from days ago, he didn't remove them on purpose- in fact, i'm sure he is able to preserve them as actual patterns on his skin alongside his scales

His blush matches the colour exactly, that dull pink

He's always smiling but this time even more so

I can't imagine the state of you, he has twice the number of mouths to kiss with but also that bright green lipstick

You are probably covered in them from head to toe and still at home trying to wipe it off

Lipstick is hard to remove

Gyutaro

Any hickeys kind of just blend in with his skin blemishes from a far away glance but the cherry red lips do not hide on his pale complexion

Most are centred on his face, at the corner of his lips and all over his cheeks before trailing down his neck

And what is he going to do, hide them? He never really wears clothes so it'd look like he's hiding something

Fortunately the only person in an upper moon meeting that would say anything is Douma and the only one that looks at him is Muzan

Muzan couldn't care less what his demons do so long as they are on task, maybe scoffs

Douma would ask so many questions but we all know Gyu would wave him off and kind of just walk away

The only person he would be scared of noticing is Daki

Because upper moon meetings are usually uncalled for he didn't expect to be taken right from your loving arms and tossed here

Authors Note - Requesting Gyokko is how you get +1 admiration point from me, I love this prompt too! Clearly you've been stocking them up lol

[turbulentscrawl]

Social Dynamics in the Manor

I did this for funsies

Leaders

Eli- The peacekeeper. He’s invested in the happiness of all the manor’s inhabitants, and often steps in (uninvited) to mediate issues between them. Secretly, he likes the attention and fulfillment that being needed gives him.

Luchino- One of the more passive “leaders.” He’s of the opinion that most inter-personal issues will sort themselves out with or without his interference, as nature often does. He gives his opinion on things freely, but doesn’t step in with force unless it’s critical.

Orpheus- A wolf in sheep’s clothing, Orpheus plays the role of a Follower to get a more personal understanding of the others. He prefers to lead from behind the scenes, controlling situations through careful leaking of information, or a specified figurehead.

Emily- A natural mother figure, Emily is sought out for comfort and advice as often as she is healing. Her rapport is especially strong with the other women of the manor.

Ada- A bit of a gaslighter, to be honest. Ada is good at convincing people they want the same things she does, be it through words or hypnosis. Her ability to read people is of strong use. She’s a bit more passive, however, and is less likely to see a need to step in for situations that don’t impact Emil.

Alva- Not a natural-born leader by any means, but his previous role in education has made him an experienced one. Alva is perhaps a bit too calm, a bit too slow to react as a leader, but he is nothing if not level-headed and calculating.

Kiegan- She’s been cold-shouldered for too long, and is not willing to be ignored anymore in life. Kiegan takes charge every time she sees an opening.

Phillipe- Has a strong sense of justice, and will always speak up for whatever he views as morally correct (though it should be noted that his morals are warped and prejudiced, and someone other than him is always at fault.) He can be even more pushy than Kiegan, when his heart burns with enough passion for something.

Followers

Andrew- Likes to think he’s a Lone Wolf, but he often feels directionless.

Luca- Will point a horse towards water, but not lead it or try forcing it to drink.

Freddy- Fancies himself a leader, but for all his intelligence and scheming he’s not well-liked enough to have followers. Also, his plans tend to be too…sacrificing.

Florian- As long as he gets his ten seconds of fame every once in a while, he's fine with whatever the atmosphere ends up being. ironically, he occasionally sides with Freddy, just because that man's "strategies" can be such dumpster-fires that it would be easy for Florian to save the day.

Kreacher, Emma, Lucky Guy, Willaim, Helena, Vera, Kevin, Margaretha, Patricia, Murro, Jose, Mike, Demi, Victor, Edgar, Ganji, Anne, Emil, Memory, Joker, Frederick, Lily, Violetta, Smiley ,Leo, Michiko, Wu Chang, Ann, Antonio, Ithaqua, Sangria, Grace

Lone Wolves

Aesop- Sometimes acts as a follower, but he doesn’t usually feel invested in the various issues and drama that comes up.

Norton- Is willing to follow when a situation calls for group cooperation, but he trusts his own judgment over that of most others in the manor.

Naib- Experience has taught him to fend for himself. He looks out for his allies, of course, but a group-mentality is sometimes detrimental to survival.

Alice- She behaves like a Follower for the sake of blending in, but Alice spends every unwatched moment she gets with her own goals and curiosities in the forefront of her mind.

Melly- Solitary and private. Melly makes truces, not allies.

Qi- Believes some emotional distance is the key for maintaining a clear head and fair judgement.

Matthias- A recluse for safety’s sake. He partners more closely with a select view, but does not like to call into crowds.

Jack- Only cares about satiating his own desires, and not the manor’s socio-politics.

Bane- A recluse for his own safety. He’s content with being left alone for the rest of eternity.

Hatsur- He speaks for and enforces the decrees of the Baron, but otherwise doesn’t care for the affairs of the other Hunters and Survivors.

Joseph- What’s the point in trying to obtain peace in hell? At least suffering, he thinks, would sometimes be more interesting.

Burke- He’s only concerned with his inventions, his work, and he picks sides and solutions according to what lets him get back to things the most quickly.

Fool’s Gold- Doesn’t care about anyone else’s problems. He barely cares about his own some days.