#chaos gets...really creative
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Skitarii are literally the most extreme thing in 40k fan creations, they either get the cutest, most tooth-rottingly adorable little skittles content or the most fucked up shit anyone had ever seen. There is no in between for these tiny guys
#warhammer 40k#skitarii#ad mech#yes ive read the fanfic#chaos gets...really creative#petition to leave skittles alone#just give them a toaster and let them run free
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Countdown to Agatha: Day 779
Y/N: “Do you still have the spellbooks from when you first started learning magic?”
Agatha: “Of course I do! Every notebook, every tome, every annotation.”
Wanda: “Let’s see them then, oh masterful historian to your art of witchcraft?”
Agatha: “You want to see them?”
Wanda: “You can’t just tell but not show, especially after such bragging!”
Agatha: *summons books* “They might be a little worn, well loved is more apt actually-“
Y/N: “Are some of these pages held in with scotch tape and chewing gum?”
Agatha: “What did you expect! They’re from the 17th century!”
Y/N: “No offense, but you would be terrible at art or artifact restoration.”
Wanda: “All the offense! Scrolls from the library of Alexandria have more substance than these!”
#you get it#you get it because the library of Alexandria is ancient ash#listen agatha is either the most prudent and prideful at preserving her work or takes more…creative liberties#honestly I think she would be really diligent with her work#but some of the older stuff might be in rougher shape lol#wandavision#agatha harkness#house of harkness#agatha all along#hahndavision#house of harkness counter#marvel#wanda maximoff#agatha harkness x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#coven of chaos#coven of chaos counter#incorrect marvel quotes#agatha: darkhold diaries#Darkhold diaries#darkhold diaries counter#wanda x agatha#wagatha#agatha
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The daunting realization that it's officially November which means NaNo and I'm not prepared in the slightest.
#; OOC || Bri ♟️#//I really wanted to try again this year to see if I can get more out of it than I did last year. Even if it's only by a small margin.#//But with all the loss and chaos it's been difficult wanting to do anything creative.#//So I'm extremely nervous about how it'll go. But maybe it'll help get some motivation back?? Hopefully?#//It's probably going to be a slow process still so I can't make any promises on a timeline.#//But maybe it'll help restore some of my confidence and creativity a bit to jump back in the game on here. 🙏
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create progeny (have purpose) create something that is "yours" through unity or love or eros or something, experience tension & release & the expansion/devouring/penetration of your identity, let them also create progeny, the planet is overpopulating and who needs more of us, well that is a question for another time, a later generation, when time comes that overpopulation threatens our need for food, water, shelter, normal temperatures, we'll change purposes.
or. or we could become climate change scientists and work on. prolonging the cycle of. prolonging the life of the energy that we depend on. (don't know how we did it before and survived 3000 years like the egyptians did. agriculture? bronze and iron tools? maths? how big was their empire, population-wise? i guess the need for energy is not so great when you don't have the internet or ai or large scale mining or computers or cars. just slaves.
this sort of answers my question about how did the philosophers in ancient greece... live. like if they didn't produce food, or labour, or "production" in the industrial sense. i imagine it's something like, there are warring tribes (as there were in china too) and you need philosophers, because in the neverending cycle of chaos and order, how do you find what is good? what should the goals of a ruler be, anyway? what should a person aim to do? what is the best way to govern? how can people be happy? should people be happy? how do you find your ideals? and so philosophy was something people needed, something that it was absolutely worth giving the surplus production to.
#ask historians#just like. argue with me? sincerely? (that's what i call discussion i guess.)#please i need to be humbled#obviously there are complexities to this but#i feel like i've only just reached the stage where#it's like oh. i'm finally maybe comfortable with... the childrearing/overpopulation issue. i like children.#like how do you justify bringing another person into the world who will sap resources if you are dooming them to a life of suffering#and pointless labour. accounting *is* important but that's not why *i'm* considering being an accountant. you know? to me#it's attractive because it's straightforward. there's not a whole lot of creativity required in the technical work. and you get paid enough#to go on vacations and have nice things. but i also know deep down i would not be satisfied with that. i would not be satisfied#only pursuing the craft/the art of living of childrearing of marriage of relationship management of financial management of office work.#i have too much chaos in myself i think? idk.#the craft/art of conversation too. that's lowkey important for accountants (who need to communicate to their clients). what i mean is --#i want to explore other ways of communication of self expression. maybe. like maybe i'd do fine as an accountant. but they're all just..#arbitrary choices! like the multiverse. no evelyn's life is the life *destined for her* that would have been the *best* for her.#but you have to choose.... i have to choose without really having a justification. there are no right paths. no wrong paths.
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I got motivation to start writing out of nowhere and now you're stuck with this
As the sun sets, the armies of the Holy Kingdom of Venalia have set up a camp deep inside enemy territory. Looking to bring glory to the Kingdom, their name, and their gods, they have declared war on those they considered heretical barbarians, the neighboring Byllians.
For 2 score and 3 years the two realms were at war. Entire states which had been caught in the crossfire had been raided, ravaged, and razed.
The Byllian Republic had fought valiantly, yet it was no match for the fighting spirit of the armies of Venalia. Now, Venalia is preparing for a massive attack on the most symbolic city of the republic: Istantinople, the city the heretical republic had risen from, and, if all went well, the city whose fall would mark the end of Byllia once and for all.
The battle raged on for eternity. Each army sent their divisions, hour after hour, day after day. Swords clashed, spears and arrows rained down from the heavens, red splattered everywhere. The smell of blood filled the air as the armies went into battle, side by side, children of their nation. The Repears were very busy that month.
Both nations were down on their last legs. They had sent everyone they had to the Bloodbath for Istantinople. The world had deemed that month Mensis Sanguinis, the month of blood. But the Byllians had protected their most sacred city.
The final army of the Venalians had only one member; a small figure, a child, no more than 12 years of age. The Byllians were confused and horrified: How could they send a child to the frontlines, and was he really ready to die so stupidly for this senseless war? The Byllian Commander stuck his sword into the ground and went to the child. He took his helmet off and offered peace.
The child then proceeded to pull out two automatic assault rifles powered by the sun and shot them all down with laser guns.
#glebnarush#chaos#what the fuck am i doing#embrace the absurd#original story#creative writing#my thoughts#random thoughts#unexpected thoughts#the stories by negpos#writing#shitpost#shitposting#random shit#silly#story#fiction#new writer#this guy is totally not from the future i swear#well what this kid is doing here is complicated#i'll let you try and figure out his whole schtick#nobody's gonna figure it out#should i make another part?#I got 'Venalia' from combining Venice and Italia#'Byllia' is from Byzantium and Hellas -> Byllas -> Byllia#Do i really need to explain 'Istantinople'?#Constanbul was Istantinople#Now its Constanbul not Istantinople#Been a long time gone Istantinople#Why did Istantinople get the works?
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#it's my mom's birthday today#and for the first time in 3 years im not a complete mess#as complicated and at times toxic our relationship was i do miss her#i miss all the good times we had and how tender she could be. how caring and supportive she was of me#sometimes i get so mad at how she treated me when she was angry at me that i feel like i dont miss her#but what i really dont miss is not having to walk on eggshells and the chaos#i just wish she were more stable and able to handle her emotions better#anyway. it's nice to reminence while i create jewelry. she always supported my creativity#and she was so creative herself even though she didnt see it at times#i just wish she could see that her hard work paid off and that im doing better
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While trying to organise my thoughts relating to various creative projects, what I have ended up doing was create a website so that I could have an interactive moodboard that holds all of media that I am inspired by as well as having links to the source material and it looks and feels so very good!
I have always struggled with visual-only moodboarding and concepting because I always want a way to find the source material again or I want to mix and match with different mediums such as playlists, animations, video games, and illustrations all in one specific and easy-to-access location. The tools that I have used previously don't always provide the extensive support for each format I want to reference, and even when they do, the formatting of the tool doesn't work well with me as I find myself fighting the tool's capabilities over enjoying creating and compiling ideas. But website development has allowed that creativity and flexibility I have craved while also allowing me to make it pretty in the process!
I won't be sharing the website for a few reasons:
It isn't hosted online and is only saved to my computer.
It contains other people's work that I do not want to host and reshare without their expressed permission.
It contains project details that I do not want to share until I have made more progress on it.
But if you are like me and struggle with visual-only moodboards or want more customisation when it comes to project planning and presentation, I cannot reccomend enough looking into learning html and creating websites, even if you don't share them!
#i talk#I love websites and coding#I love organisational tools!#and when those two combine together I get so very happy and spend hours working on something that others may find dull or frustrating#the creator of desktop goose previously talked on the subject of creation tools and how they effect the user#the way a tool is formatted and presented will change how a person interacts and therefore creates with it#and i very much enjoy the flexibility and customisation inherent in coding as you can create exactly what you want how you want!#i just really love the balancing act between logistical organisation and creative chaos
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* ✰. — birds of a feather | l.n
summary: i’ll love you til the day that i die.
warnings: the result of the new billie eilish album being on repeat and me having this song stuck in my head, so this was born. fluff, fluff and more fluff bc i said so. slowly getting my creative juices back, so bear with me.
masterlist | soundtrack
you hadn’t been looking for anything when you had met lando. a freshly graduated student who finally had time to find interest in their personal life, rather then spend their time consumed with textbooks in front of them, trying to navigate your way through the chaotic mess of life.
but the moment the curly haired brit bumped into you in the paddock, sending your notes and fresh cup of coffee all over you and the ground, you were doomed. falling head first into the comforting chaos that was lando norris.
and you thanked your stars every morning when you woke up that you had been running late that day, or else you would’ve never met the sleeping boy next to you. wouldn’t have ever gotten the chance to get to know the sought after driver with a big heart and who loves with his whole soul.
you smiled to yourself, sitting in the bed and taking in the way he slept peacefully, not aware how pretty he looked in the morning sun as it peaked in through your blinds. his cheek pressed against the pillow, his lips slightly parted as he slept.
you couldn’t help but reach out and brush the stray curl away from his face, smiling softly as he stirred in his sleep at your touch. your silent way to keep going, your nails scratching at his scalp gently. a soft hum came from him, followed by the gorgeous sight of his green eyes shining up at you. his eyes fully adjusting to the brightness as he squinted, his hand reaching out to yours.
“c’mere,”
his voice was hoarse and sleep coated, but it never failed to send shivers down your spine. you scooted closer, letting him pull you into his side. your face nuzzled in his bare shoulder, his head laying on top of yours.
“we need to be up soon,” you said, poking his ribs gently, “your family’s coming to see the new house and have dinner, remember?”
he didn’t, actually. and if it wasn’t for you, he’d be certain he’d miss all of his meetings, call times, and hell, even sometimes the start of his races. thankfully, you were never far from him on the pitlane. the perks of working with sky, who he should really thank. he’d make a mental note to do it next race. right now, he was going to enjoy the peaceful month he got to spend with you. uninterrupted peace, free time. where you got to whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted.
he groaned, nuzzling his face into your hair. you laughed softly, “lando,”
“i like when you say my name,” he mumbled, “say it again.”
you chuckled, and in your best flirty tone you could muster up in the moment, you did, “lando,”
he pressed a soft kiss to the skin of your neck, right where your neck and collarbone met. his favorite spot to kiss whenever he teased you because he knew you were ticklish.
and as if on queue, you giggled, shoving his head from your neck, “stop it,”
“just five more minutes,” he pleaded, “with my girl, in our bed, that’s all i ask.”
you sighed, “fine, but not one second longer.”
he smiled, knowing he could always get you to fold. you hated to admit it, but you’d always cave for him. do whatever he wanted. he had you wrapped around his finger and you had him wrapped around yours. smitten for each other, young in love, whatever you wanted to call it, you were it.
“how’d you sleep?” you asked, finger tips tracing the lines in your mind that you drew with your fingers every morning. connecting the moles on his skin, from his shoulders to his chest and down to his sides. your own little routine you had incorporated, a habit you picked up after the first night you spent together a year and a half ago.
“good until you woke me up.”
“you love when i wake you up.”
“you’re right,” he mumbled, “getting to see that pretty face every morning is the highlight of my day.”
you chuckled, leaning up on your elbow, reaching around and grabbing his cheek into your hand. he smiled softly as you leaned down, pressing your lips to his.
he pulled away, a smile on his lips as they brushed against yours, “and your morning kisses, i love waking up to your lips on mine, or on my-“
you shook your head, laughing and covering his face with your pillow before pulling yourself out from the covers, “alright, time to get up!”
“that wasn’t five minutes!” he gasped, tossing your pillow your way softly, teasingly. you laughed, walking into the connected bathroom, calling back to him.
“long enough! you killed the romantic mood,”
“i’m only speaking my truth, baby,” he said, footsteps joining you in the bathroom, watching him lean against the doorway out of the corner of your eye, “is a man not allowed to speak his truth?”
you popped the toothbrush in your mouth, sending him a glare. he laughed, pressing a kiss to your head before grabbing his own toothbrush from his side of the sink. he joined you in brushing your teeth, wrapping an arm around your waist. you smiled softly, trying to ignore how good he looked. sweatpants loosely hanging around his waist, bare chest on full display, curls wild and in serious need of taming.
you two looked good together, and even though he wasn’t necessarily considered ‘tall’ he still stood a few inches above you. his green eyes met yours in the mirror, and he knew you were subtly checking him out. he sent you a wink and you rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you finished brushing your teeth.
he finished shortly after you, watching you as you rummaged around in your drawer. you pulled out the skincare he had seen you put on every morning and night, and even has put on for you after nights where you’ve had one too many vodka redbulls.
he leaned against the counter, watching you in the mirror as you rubbed the product into your skin, “can i have some?”
you giggled, moving to stand between his legs. you squeezed a little bit of the moisturizer onto your fingers, rubbing into his face. he grinned softly at your gentle touch, “that smells good.”
you nodded, “and it has sunscreen in it, it’s good for you.”
he motioned towards your drawer, “do you have any lip balm?”
you hummed, putting the tube back before grabbing the lip balm. you went to hand it to him but he raised an eyebrow at you. you sighed with a laugh, shaking your head.
“gimme,” you said, grabbing his chin and swiping the lip balm against his pursed lips. you couldn’t help but giggle again, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips when you were done, “there.”
he rubbed his lips together and hummed, “hmm, is that coconut?”
you nodded, “like it?”
he nodded, pulling you in closer by your waist, “love it.”
you grabbed his wrist, checking the time on his watch, “they’ll be here in an hour.”
“so what i’m hearing is-“
“no,” you shoved his shoulder with another laugh, “what im saying is that i need to run to the store and get flowers for the vase on the table.”
“who needs flowers,” he said, pressing a kiss to your chest, “when i could have you back in my bed, all to myself for a little while longer until i have to share you for the rest of the day.”
you ran a hand through his hair, his eyes looking up to meet yours, “as tempting as it sounds, i really do have to run to the store. plus, i have to get some stuff for dinner.”
he sighed dramatically, “okay,”
you walked into the closet, rummaging through his side and stealing one of his hoodies and fishing out a pair of sweatpants. a quick outfit to run a few last minute errands.
he had found his way to the kitchen, standing at the coffee pot. you pinched his side, kissing his shoulder. he turned his head and smiled, leaning down and kissing your head, “need anything while i’m out?”
“mm,” he hummed, “breakfast? i don’t feel like cooking.”
you laughed, “me either. i’ll pick up something.”
he nodded, smiling playfully, “i guess you can take my car.”
“oh i was going to,” you said, grabbing his key off the hook, “even without your permission.”
“rude!”
you laughed, blowing him a kiss, “i’ll be back. i love you.”
“i love you too.”
your trip to the store was quick, making it back within a half an hour, arms full of things as you carried everything inside, closing the door with your foot. you set everything on the counter, hanging the keys back on the hook.
“i’m back!”
“i’m in the bedroom!” his voice called back to you. you made your way down the hallway and into the bedroom, smiling as he held up two shirts in the mirror.
“which looks better?” he asked, holding both up against the pair of plaid pants he had picked out. you hummed, standing behind him and watching his reflection. his hair being perfectly styled and his cologne filling the room telling you he had been getting ready while you were gone.
you pointed to the white shirt, “that one.”
“you think?”
you nodded, watching him take it off the hanger and slipping it over his shoulders. you stepped in front of him, buttoning the buttons. purposefully leaving the top few open.
he rolled up the sleeves, sending you a look, “might as well have my whole shirt unbuttoned.”
“i wouldn’t complain.” you joked and he smiled, before quickly realizing your attire. you smile as he started pulling at the hem of his hoodie that sat on your frame.
“hey! this is mine.”
the baby blue hoodie looked better on you anyway, but he still liked to joke around with you, “i know.”
“thief.”
“come and get it then.” you shrugged, crossing your arms.
“oh, so now you’re in the mood?” he asked, “what was it? the buttons?”
you laughed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, “maybe.”
“you’re going to be the death of me.”
“you love me.” you smiled, his hands finding your warm, soft skin under his hoodie.
“damn right i do, baby. til the day i die.”
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader fluff#lando norris x reader imagine#lando norris x reade fluff imagine#ln4 x reader#ln4#fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader fluff#ln4 fluff#ln4 fic#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x you#ln4 one shot#ln4 fluff imagine#mclaren#mclaren f1#mclaren formula one#mclaren formula 1
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leave it to her.
troublemaker!jinx x people pleaser!reader
summary: for once, you were taken care of.
notes: nsfw, modern au, wc 2,7k. no proofread. Heh, this is for my bottoms out there !! might change the title lmao..
ཻུ۪۪ ༄࿐༉⁎ ⁺
never, in a million years, you would’ve thought that you’d see jinx crying. definitely not in such a… helpless way.
you were on your way to have lunch at the greenery of the campus, if you were lucky you’d find a nice spot under a tree, but the soft grass under the sun would suffice too. you had a red, juicy apple in hand, a novel in the other and your pretty purse on your shoulder. you were planning to do the best you could with that free period.
that is, until you casually find the blue haired girl crying under the bleachers.
it was out of character, way too far.
you’ve known jinx since… forever. though you doubted she ever noticed you, she definitely caught your eye from a very young age.
you didn’t know much about her home life, apart from rumors and gossip full of inconsistencies, her life history was a mystery. but you just knew something happened around the age of thirteen, because that’s when her personality had a huge change.
from the cheerful, creative, social butterfly powder to the obnoxious, short tempered, problematic jinx. it wasn’t from a day to the other, of course not, but you vividly remember when she mutated skins.
it started by her getting weirdly quiet. it was just strange for you not to hear her loud giggles and excited volunteers to participate in class. sometimes, she would even skip them. then you noticed that she pulled away from everyone. her former friends were mindlessly brushed off as she preferred to sit quietly alone.
she started getting in troubles. kids would accuse her from stealing stuff, such as pencils or lunch money. it got messy real quick, after all, they couldn’t ignore it when it was at least six to seven kids assuring it was her who committed the crimes. parents got involved, but apparently her father handled it very well because soon enough nobody cared anymore.
growing up jinx developed a punk, dark style that got you obsessed for awhile. and she played the part, discussing with the teachers and challenging the authorities, she really seemed to hate the system. and her classmates.
now, maybe, just maybe, you had a crush on her. and you could’ve do something about it, if it wasn’t because she scared the shit out of you.
jinx was a walking trouble. wherever she went, whenever it was, with whoever she wanted. her patience was extremely low and it was obvious she found joy in making others miserable. younger kids were more likely to be her victims, but some classmates were unlucky enough to get involved too.
she never messed with you. and your most logical explanation was that she simply didn’t care about your existence. and why would she? you two were… polar opposites.
while jinx was pure chaos, you were an angel.
everyone’s favorite, specially teachers. not that you were exactly a nerd, but that didn’t matter. so what if you weren’t academically smart? you were adorable, enthusiastic and kind. even the most strict and harsh teacher would feel happy to see your hand raising in their class and answer to your dumb questions. in fact, they’ll use you as an example to encourage others to satisfy their curiosity by learning.
socially, you were a bit awkward, but you always meant well! there isn’t a club you haven’t been a member of, or a student council activity you haven’t volunteered for. you gave free tutoring, shared your lunch to those who didn’t bring enough money, helped carry books or homework models from one side of the school to the other.
in conclusion, you were a sweetheart.
this comes from an early age. when your parents proudly bragged to their friends about how ‘quiet’ and such a ‘well behaved’ kid you were. sure you’ve got yourself in a few little incidents. like stealing a chocolate from the store when you accompanied your mom do groceries. bringing stray animals to your house because you were worried they’d have to sleep alone and making your parents deal with them. or getting caught red handed magnetically reading your father’s porn magazine.
silly little accidents.
you were simply the kindest soul alive. of course you wouldn’t ignore someone crying alone.
your shy steps alerted jinx quickly, her head snapped up and her bloodshot eyes stared at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“what do you want?” she aggressively asked you, there was a vulnerability in her tone that squeezed your heart.
“um, i have tissues.”
your hands trembled as you rummaged through your bag, rushing to kneel in front of her and hand them over. you needed to comfort her, but you also wanted this to end as soon as possible.
her already pouty lips formed a frown, hesitating for a long minute before snatching it from your hand to blow her nose. not another word came out from her, not even thank you.
it was awkward, to stare at her while she cleaned up her wet face. your eyes traveled down to the floor, clearing your throat. “it’s a nice day.”
jinx only scoffed. glancing at you for a brief second before focusing on the tissues. then, she threw it away and placed her chin on her forearms as she hugged her knees, going back to that gloomy energy.
you were unsure, because she didn’t quite asked you to leave, but it seemed that her mind was elsewhere. what do you say now? you didn’t want to pry, in fact, you didn’t even want to know what was tormenting her.
then why did you stay?
you moved slowly, as if any sudden movement would make her notice your presence, you sat next to her, maintaining a respectful distance.
well, grass is grass. though neither the sun nor the wind hit your face like you’d want, it was a quiet, calming spot. so you opened your book and read.
it wasn’t like jinx didn’t notice you, or cared. there was something about your mere presence, it brought her a sense of peace. she kept crying, but she didn’t sob anymore. jinx kinda wanted to scoop closer, to make you round your arms around her and rest her head on your chest. that’s how welcoming your vibe was.
she didn’t, obviously. you both just sat there in silence, the noise of your pages turning and her quiet sniffing, along with the distant laughter from the students, were the only sounds heard.
you could tell jinx’s mind was complex, that was clear like water. it was inviting, the complexity of her person. to be the one to figure her out would be a big accomplishment, but ending up harmless was not reassured. if only you could ask her why was she crying.
she wouldn’t tell you, anyway. how could she explain the pain of her memories, the grief and difficulty in her relationship with her sister?
nightmares were easier to manage. one can wake up sweaty in the security of their home and they’ll be alone, with no eyes to judge your trauma. but the nightmares transformed into sudden flashbacks in the middle of a class, the heartbeat quickens at a scary pace and the breathing gets heavier. and jinx thought, only for a second, that she might die right there.
you didn’t ask her, and she appreciated it. because your presence comforted her in a way no one, and nothing, could ever do.
jinx left first. she had spent the majority of the hour looking at the floor, occasionally grunting, muttering stuff you couldn’t comprehend. but she stared at you for quite some time. she found herself relaxing at the sight of your fingers following the words you were reading, paying attention to the smallest details in your actions. like the little puffs of air and the way your chest rises, jinx’s own breathing started to match yours at some point.
it sent shivers down her spine when she realized. neither of you says a word when jinx suddenly gets up, shook the dirt on her jeans and walked away.
you thought it was over, how silly.
next day you were welcomed by stares and giggles, firstly you just thought everyone was being super friendly. until you got to your locker.
the word ‘dyke’ shined in a fluorescent pink, other small drawings filled the free space. it wasn’t strange for students to decorate them, but this clearly wasn’t your doing, and it was extremely striking compared to your quiet personality. that was jinx’s handwriting.
you chuckled to yourself in disbelief, naively tried to brush a hand to clean it with no success and you hear more laughing. you glance away from your locker, just then you notice people made a round to watch you, some even took evidence with pictures. your cheeks reddened intensely, and you tried laughing with them, to pay no mind to the aggression of it all and laugh it off.
you were boiling anger.
escaping the spotlight wasn’t easy, but you make it to the furthest bathroom. you felt like screaming, your breathing was heavy and little tears tickled the corner of your eyes.
what did you do to deserve it? is that how the universe pays you for being nothing but kind to people? you knew half of the students that were laughing at you. you helped them pass their exams, paid for their lunch, listened to their problems when no one else would. and then they laughed at you.
and what was so funny? how did they even know you were into women? were you that obvious?
while you were processing that and much more in you mind, someone else entered the bathroom. your head snapped towards them, scoffing loudly when you realize.
“dyke?” your voice rumbling in the empty room made jinx giggle, she closed the door and swiftly locked it. there was a very different air coming from her, she looked joyful, lively and mean.
her little mocking smile pretended to look innocent as she battled her lashes at you.
“dyke.” she shrugged, approaching you slowly. you felt cornered, like a prey.
“w—why?”
“w—why not?”
you huffed in frustration, stepping back to try and keep some distance, but she wasn’t having it. “did i offend you? yesterday?” you asked, unable to hold back the little tears.
jinx doesn’t answer, but her demeanor softens noticeably. she reached to brush her thumbs on you cheeks, she felt the warmth of your blush and her heart fluttered. she felt so giddy that it scared her, suddenly pulling back.
“what a dumb question.” she scoffed, messing with her hair as she turned to the mirror, fixing her appearance to her liking. you saw how she purposely smudged her eyeliner and you mentally agreed. it suited her. “when will you learn to mind your own business?” she added your name to the end of the question and it threw you off.
“huh?“ jinx looked at you with nonchalance, slightly amused at your confusion. “what do you mean?”
“you’re always behind other people, offering a helping hand and what not— it pisses me off.” her voice got progressively more annoyed. “you’re only losing time, did anyone help you back out there?”
“w—well, no, but—“
you couldn’t think of anything. she was right, she also approached you again, and her closeness affected you quickly, snatching the words from your mouth.
“b—b—but.”
you grunted, hiding your face in your hands as you leaned back on the wall. “stop it, stop.”
“i’m not doing anything!” she chuckled, comfortably placing herself next to you with her shoulder pressed to the cold surface to face you better. you couldn’t see her, but there was little hearts in her eyes as she gazed you.
“what’s wrong with lesbians, anyway…?” you used your last defense, muffling your words softly against your hands.
which you quickly pulled away when you felt cold fingers tickling the exposed skin of your waist. jinx held you with a delicacy that made your breathing twitch.
“nothing~” she purred, getting even closer as she hugged you from the side. “i love lesbians.” she chuckled again, but it didn’t sound like she was making fun of you now. you were bewildered, but you didn’t separate an inch. “i just couldn’t think of anything else to mock you, heh.”
you knew it was wrong for many reasons, but in the very moment you thought that it was cute. she was cute.
“i… i didn’t knew you…”
“hmm?” she hummed with a smile, placing her lips close to your ear to murmur as soft as she could. “that i was into you?”
she wasn’t making things up. you were simply oblivious. why else were you practically the only one unaffected by jinx’s antics? until today, that is.
if you’d have payed attention, you would’ve noticed the constant staring, the quiet steps behind you. you would’ve understood why some ungrateful students came back at you after a tutoring session to offer you money for your time and effort, you never accepted it, but there was jinx threatening kids for you.
jinx fixation only snapped when you finally offered your attention to her. to have you kneeling in front of her with worried eyes, unsure of how to actually help her and not leaving when she wouldn’t even spare you another glance after accepting the tissues. your kindness made her heart race and she wanted it all to herself.
the silence that filled the bathroom was comforting, though the tension could be cut with a knife. or a kiss, whichever happened first.
surprisingly, you made the first move. tilting your head close enough to brush your lips against hers. you felt her sigh into your mouth before reciprocating. the contact was firm, eager and gentle. could’ve been more romantic if you weren’t in the schools bathroom, but neither of you minded.
she didn’t lose time to press herself into you against the wall, her hands roamed your waist and shamelessly explored under your shirt. the kiss quickly heated up, just like your bodies.
your hands clutched her shoulders to keep her close, though you shy away for a second when her tongue licked your lower lip. “god…” you sighed, mesmerized by the feeling. jinx tried again and this time you welcomed her by opening your lips for her.
she treated you so good, her touch both gentle and hungry made your back arch into her. her tongue conquered your mouth with ease, exploring every inch until one of you pull away to breath.
it was intoxicating, thrilling. the voice in your mind warning you when her hand slipped under your pants got more and more distant. her slim fingers caressed you over your underwear and you reluctantly broke the kiss to whimper softly. it was unknown, exciting. your own hand gripped her forearm as you tried to quiet down.
jinx hummed in amusement, “feels good, hm?” she pecked your lips before moving to your neck. it was only a matter of minutes before you pleaded for more. though your words came out slurred and nonsensical, you had to guide her hand under your panties to make the point.
“y—yeah, yeah,” you kept mumbling, praising the softness of her touch. jinx’s own knees trembled when she heard you moan loudly, her middle finger smoothly entering your pussy. she had to kiss you again to shut you up, but she was fucking you so nice.
you greedily asked for more, muffling against her lips. you wouldn’t even be standing if you weren’t holding yourself from her shoulders. she added another one, setting a soft pace, her curling fingers hitting your sweet spot over and over.
you felt the pressure in your lower belly, “ah, jinx—“ you tried to warn her, but she already had an idea. your walls squeezed her fingers harder, and your hips kept twitching towards her, searching for relief.
“i got ya, baby.” she reassured you, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear as you came in her hands.
jinx was a riddle no one bothered to figure out, not even you. it was a pleasant surprise to be the first to feel how sweet she can actually be. you craved more of her.
it was a weird pairing, people noted. you both mindlessly walked hand in hand the next week, jinx’s uncaring attitude gave you the boost of confidence you needed after being laughed at so recently. [jinx apologized profusely for it.] but it worked perfectly, having each other’s back when something went wrong. there was a special, comforting connection between you two that couldn’t be compared.
#jinx x reader#jinx#jinx arcane#lesbian#jinx x fem!reader#arcane#jinx smut#jinx x reader smut#jinx league of legends#jinx lol#jinx arcane smut#arcane jinx#wlw#jinx x y/n#jinx x you#jinx fanfic
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☀︎To the light is to the darkness✩
Abby X reader X Ellie
Prologue to vengeance (can be read alone)
☀︎ ☀︎
Summary: Abby is your childhood best friend, you did everything together, taught each other everything. You were utterly infatuated with each other until Ellie Williams enters your world.
Warning: smut, MDNI, porn w lots of plot, innocence arc, mutual pining, lots of sexual tension, mutual masturbation (in the same room, together), fingering if you squint, useless lesbians, lesbian love triangle, abby needs a hug, phoebe bridgers as her own warning, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader
A/N: okay so holy fuck did I get carried away with this one. I didn’t want to leave yall on a cliffhanger but this dynamic deserves more and I don’t want to rush through it. I hope yall enjoy. This chapter is mostly just abby but there will be lots more Ellie in the next chapter promise :)
✩ ✩
“Someone you couldn’t lose. You said we’re not together, so now when we kiss I have anger issues.”
She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.
A relationship that felt more of interlacing two souls into one that resided in two structures. Shared autonomy of mind, breath, word, and body. Unspoken feelings, touches, and stares.
What started in green fields of pink flowers and brown roots ended in dark rooms and pining embraces. Hand shakes turning into interlaced fingers, laughter filled glances turning into tense stares, and experimental pecks turning into open mouthed pants.
The first time you meet abby was at school at 15. Bright eyed and bushy tailed still untainted from the reality of the world around you. You were quite shy in those years, keeping yourself away from the wild hairs of children ready to grow up and take charge. You were okay with the stability of childhood, the sticky sweet feeling of safety and uncharted terror.
Before Abby’s dad had died, before the muscles and long locks of golden blonde hair she was reserved too. Abby was wrapped in a bubble of comfort, a loving community that doted on her. She felt no need to join the crowd of chaos when she had everything she needed.
Well she thought she did…and then she met you.
In class you had your face shoved into a notebook doodling away of ferns and dandelions you had seen in the fields early that day. If it were up to you, you’d spend every last dying breath in the fields, soaking in sunlight and trailing your fingers through the rows of flowers.
Abby sat next to you in class, always too shy to speak up to you. You always seemed so busy, either reading, drawing, or with your head in the clouds, never truly listening to the lecture ahead. She admired your creativity, attention to detail, and the utter sense of unawareness to your surroundings. She wondered why you didn’t talk to the others, you were so inviting, so pretty. She once wished to look like you, how effortlessly magnificent you looked.
She grew too curious, over zealous at the thought of being close to you, understanding you. She knew she had to speak up.
“H-hey you draw pretty cool- I mean- it’s really good…what you draw.”
You had never taken more than a glance at the freckled girl until then. She always seemed just as busy as you, so you never bothered her.
You let out a bellied laugh at the now crimson red faced girl- completely embarrassed by her attempt at recognition.
And that was that. The two of you were inseparable, attached at the hip from then on out.
Abby seemed to understand your weird quirks and odd fascinations. Even when she didn’t, she was there open minded and wide eyed to hear your lengthy ramblings on about nothingness.
Sometimes it felt like you did most of the talking. Not that it was one sided or you wouldn’t let her butt in, but rather she was completely enamored by what you thought. Sometimes all she wanted to do was to hear you talk, you were her favorite person, the own mold of herself.
She wanted to think what you thought, feel what you felt, see the world through your eyes.
17
As the years went on you only seemed to grow closer to abby as she grew fonder of you.
Some could call it an obsession, the way you treated each other. Not a single thought went by that the other didn’t know. If you were there, so was abby. If you knew something, so did she.
Everyday she would follow you to the fields after school, your special escape you’d learn to share with the other half of your being.
You’d make her lay across the flower ridden fields so you could draw her glistening hair kissed by the whisk of wind. She let her hair grow longer since you’d ask to braid it for her every morning. She liked it short but she wanted to let you have room to make intricate designs and lace them with weeds you’d found.
Abby would playfully nudge you when you’d draw the hump on her nose in the drawings, but you loved it too much to not appreciate it. You loved all the things she couldn’t in herself.
You two spent hours out in the field daily, even when it rained you’d make her dance around like fairies as mud splattered across your shins. Anything you wanted, she’d do as long as it was with you.
That’s when you asked her to try kissing, she’d obliged.
“Have you ever…kissed anyone?” You ask staring off into the cloud painted sky, tall grass framing your bodies.
She lets out a breathy giggle, “no… you would know if I did.”
You shrug, shoulder crashing gently into hers, “I don’t know, maybe it was too embarrassing to say.”
She trails off, “h-have you?”
“No dumbass you would know…” you push your shoulder into her turning to give her a toothy smile, “what if I’m not good when a boy kisses me?”
Her eyes remained trained onto the pillowy cloud, “you can try on me- I-if you want to.”
It was a good idea, she wasn’t going to judge you, she was your best friend, she was only there to help.
“Okay.” And without a second thought your upper body shot up and lent over hers, pressing your lips into her plush pink ones. It was gentle, only a placement amongst the flesh, yet so charged. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach and up to your throat, something you had only felt once before when you and abby went swimming.
Closeness you thought. Being close to someone causes that. How nice it was to be so close to your favorite person, maybe one day you could feel close to someone again.
After that you continued to experiment kissing. At sleepovers you’d talk about the boys you wanted to kiss, then show each other how you would kiss them. It turned into an innocent routine, pecking her before she would leave, kissing her in the fields when you felt the butterflies.
You’d told her about them- the fluttering in your stomach. Whenever you felt them she told you that she wanted to feel them too. Transferring them through the soft pink flesh, she’d say she’d feel them after.
Soon she’d tell you when she got them, to which you’d return the gesture back. As time went on, the butterflies came more often.
People were starting to notice the relationship, started talking about how close the two of you were. You’d shoo off the irrational comments and over zealous accusations, but abby never did. She just didn’t respond.
“Who am I to ask for more? But you’re breathing in my open mouth. You’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out.”
18
Abby started spending the night daily, she practically lived in your room at that point. After her dad died your relationship grew stronger than ever. In such a treacherous time she clung to the only person who truly understood her. Many a nights she spent huddled into a ball in your lap weeping as you smoothed the hair behind her ear and rubbing circles into the grown muscles in her back.
Abby had taken to working her emotions out in physical labor. Now being a solider full time out of school she had grown muscular and more rough. Her heart was still the same for you, but had grown caged off to the people around you.
Her pleasantries for the rest of the community had grown stale, only allowing a few to get near her. But you… there was always an indefinite spot inside her for you.
Since abby was always around now, in the darkness of every night, privacy had flown right out the window. Not that you had minded- there wasn’t much of really anything abby didn’t know or hadn’t seen.
But when that eery sense of familiarity crept up, when the butterflies would come at night.
She had started out sleeping on the extra bed in your room. Before she had practically moved in she’d sleep with you, but since her stay turned to no vacancy she’d taken to given you the last sense of space, even when you hadn’t asked.
In the middle of darkness as the crickets chirped outside the window you’d tell her the feeling had come back, and she’d always agree, and the room would fall silent again.
“Abby?” You call out to a darkened room, illuminated by the shine of the moon.
“Yeah?” She’d call back from the other side.
“Do you ever…fix the feelings of the butterflies. Like make them go away?”
“Uh yeah- sometimes…when it gets bad.”
“I think mine are…bad right now,” it felt embarrassing almost, there was nothing she could do to help, fix your issue. Transferring the butterflies to abby only made them worse sometimes, and you were boiling.
“M-mine too,” she admits.
“You can fix it- if you need to.”
“A-re you going to stop yours?”
“Is that okay?” You say reluctantly into the tense air coating you. Every slight move felt with a million nerves.
“Mhmm,” she responds, a rustling heard coming from her direction.
Soft hums filled the air from the feeling of release you had allowed yourself in the presence of your best friend. Abby’s breathy moans would only follow quickly after your own, never before.
Dual release become a routine. Allowing the sticky sweet sensations of climaxing in the same bedroom of your other half. It became another thing you shared with her, another check on the list of the endeavors you’d participated in with her.
Talks of the butterflies and the unleashing of them never left those four chipping walls. Some things were meant for just Abby’s ears. All best friends must do the same. You’d never heard of others talk of sorts so you sealed your lips, a secret kept like a bird in a cage.
As you both had grown accustomed to the routine things gradually got more intense. Sometimes you couldn’t get the butterflies to fly away even when you tried for hours, panting out whimpers of frustration. Even when they would go away sometimes they would crept back in immediately, your body unable to be satiated.
Abby begun sleeping in the bed with you, to calm the frustrating unnerve you felt after no avail. She’d tell you she wish she could help you, make them go away. She’d do anything to make you happy.
That’s when you started touching yourselves next to each other. The routine was upheld for so long that it felt natural to do it even when she was right next to you. First fully covered, then in undergarments, to finally completely bare.
Seeing Abby’s bare flesh only made it worse. You weren’t stupid, the pieces were falling into place before your eyes. But you hadn’t seen anyone else naked before, maybe it would be the same. Her flesh so pale, her nipples shades of pale pink roses, and the hair that trailed down to her folds as golden as wheat. You had never seen something so magnificent, so beautifully crafted.
That was something you didn’t share with her. The drawings of her bare flesh. You made sure to memorize each chisel, line, and freckle to be as accurate as possible once you got to your notebook. With every piece of her revealed opening thousands of opportunities to draw her art. She was so fucking beautiful.
“When was the first time?” The auburn girl had asked you.
It all had meshed into a blur, what had happened and when it did. When you and abby had started sleeping together it started on opposite ends. Heat not close enough to sting your flesh but the air still tense enough to be cut clean with a blade. As time grew on and the routine becoming daily, the space between you started to close in. Knees brushing as your legs wavered, arms transferring sticky sweat in the blistering heat of arousal.
The inevitable placement of foreheads touching as you watched each other fall apart, watching the butterflies flutter out of her throat with every pant.
From what you could call the ‘beginning’ of sorts, rather an act of mercy, came from her.
You found yourself in the familiar position of unnerve. Rubbing aimless quick circles on your abused clit. It became a matter of principle at the point, needing to fulfill the urge even knowing the outcome would leave you more helpless than before. Abby’s butterflies were far gone, now rubbing lazy stripes down her slit in attempt to not let you feel alone. She never wanted you to feel like she wasn’t completely enthralled by your every move.
Your leg sprawled across her own, wide open, bucking your hips into the air as you let out frustrated grunts, eyes sealed shut in concentration. She just watched. She loved watching you touch yourself. Abby felt like the luckiest girl in the world getting to watch you, kiss you, feel you. She wanted to feel more of you, every atom in your body she’d kiss if you’d allow it.
“Let me help” she said, eyes trained on your open mouth.
Your brain was too fuzzy to even comprehend the depth of the act, so pent up and eager.
“Mhmm,” was all you could muster up. As her calloused fingers transferred from her skin to your abdomen, your body jolted up. You had never been touched by another. Not like this. She took her time running the tips of her fingers from your side to the mound, taking your hand and moving it your thigh so she could replace it with her own.
Something deep in your belly erupted when you felt her fingers meet your clit. A flock of doves released from their cage, a gasping goldfish meeting water. An exaggerated sigh of relief came out as a depraved moan. Every nerve in your body heightened by her gentle touch.
She drew cautious and attentive swipes across the newly swollen bud, watching for when your breath would hitch.
“You’re so warm,” she said studying your face as it contorted in pleasure. Your chin raised high, burying your scalp into the frilly pillows below. She had then studied the flesh around your neck, oh why had she never noticed that. How thin the skin was there, how close she could get to you in that space.
“I-it feels b-better when you do it,” you admit to her, water in her hands, hips grinding into the soft touch of her. “Y-yeah really?” She says, perking up, so pleased with knowing she could make you feel better. She’d do anything to make you feel better.
You let your stagnant hand run down her chiseled chest to meet her mound, her sticky slit pooling at her core. You meant to return the favor, an eye for an eye. “It’s okay- just let me help you.”
You shook your head in agreement, but let your hand rest on the pulsing flesh, you wanted to feel her like she felt you.
With every gentle circle she took you closer to release. It was so much faster when she did it. When you did it together before you would lie there for hours flicking at the raw skin to no avail, but in minutes she had you tipping at your edge.
Her strokes felt akin to the ones on your notebook, gentle and cautious direction, seeking a desirable outcome. You’d thought to picture this, able to recreate this on paper shielded from her eyes. What would she think if she saw them? Maybe you’d grown too fond of the other half of your heart.
“Abby!” You scream out, nearing your pending release.
“Y-yeah? D-does it feel okay- are you okay?” She perks up in concern, helplessly worried she had hurt you.
“Yes- Yes! It- it’s coming,” you pant out, body slick with sweat as your arousal pools below you. A sloppy mess of bodies interlaced with remorseless pleasure.
“Let me feel them, I want to feel them,” abby says inches from your face, intently watching the contortions of your face below her. The butterflies, oh how she wished she could flutter in your tummy as they do so effortlessly.
You cave shamelessly, pressing into the soft pink flesh. You try to keep them stable, but as you reach the cliffs edge you can’t help but moan pathetically into her throat. Your hips thrust into the calloused fingers, chasing the lasting feelings of her, escaping your doom and passing the burden through your lips onto hers.
You did draw of this, and every time after that. It became an obsession, mental images snapshotted to accuracy for replication later.
The routine increased in frequency and intensity. Exploring each other’s most sacred places. She would let you touch her sometimes, but only when she was touching you. Abby seemed more interested in your pleasure than her own. But she cared about you, she never wanted you unsettled. She wanted to be your salvation.
“I ask you how you’re doing and I let you lie. But we don’t have to talk about it, I can walk you home and practice method acting. I’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning.”
19
“Does she make you feel them?”
She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.
Ellie Williams was so…vulgar, erratic, a ticking time bomb. The pieces of the puzzle connected at last when you lied eyes on the auburn haired girl.
She had entered the WLF as gentle as a bomb to a building. Fiery hot attitude, a chip on her shoulder, and drowning green eyes. At first glance she utterly captivated your ever fleeting thoughts.
When she first walked through the corridors of the stadium your eyes fixed on her, staring rudely at her every move. “Who is that, the girl?” You ask the unfazed blonde next to you, too busy working at sharpening a blade, “names Ellie, they say she’s trouble. By the looks of her, checks out.”
“What did she do? Why is she here?” You continue your glare, taking note of the pink scare rippled along the crest of her eye.
You had never drawn anyone other than abby, but the girls features were so strong, the strokes would come naturally in your grasp. A secret muse possibly, even from a far.
“I don’t know- stay away from her. She reeks of trouble,” she’d remark, finishing off the blade and leading you off to a pending mission.
You tried, you really did. She was so compelling, and you? You were a bee to honey. Was she soft unlike her features? Did she speak of the world beyond her? Did she like to watch the clouds mesh into unlikely objects? Did she know of the butterflies and their ever present existence in your lungs?
Your notebook grew of only her, the short frayed hair, the pink scare, the freckles that littered her face. So effortlessly magnificent she was, unknowingly your own secret work of art.
Until abby found them.
Related to this work
Song lyrics: casual , waiting room , cool about it
Moodboard
If you enjoy the childhood best friend trope with abby highly recommend this fic by @kieranscaren she writes beautifully and gave me great inspiration for this work:)
Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow @a-little-bit-of-everybody
#abby anderson#the last of us#abby anderson smut#abby x reader#abby angst#abby anderson tlou2#abby the last of us#abby tlou#sub abby#abby x fem!reader#ellie williams x you#ellie tlou2#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie x you#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellabs#ellabs x reader#ellie smut
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what placements would most likely signify working in the media & entertainment industry??
Leo sun/rising—Enthusiasm for acting, projecting themselves out there. Naturally attracts attention! Loves the world of dress up as well. Can play dramatics really well. May even want to own a band of their own.
Neptune 1h—Great at acting. Shifts like a chameleon and sucks in energy to deliver the image everyone wants. Tunes easily into the moment. May also go on to make great music. Great at photography because of their attention to detail.
Capricorn/saturn dom— Great at depressive roles, making more of an impact on the mass. Focused on terror, sublime horror, the gross truth of reality to deliver a message. Used fear as a way to draw viewers attention. In their music their words are deep and powerful, profound. Grips the people who are too comfortable with their life and throws them in for a disturbing ride.
Venus-pluto—Great at thriller acts, horror, comedy. Sets the scene for drama and terror and enacts it very well. Exudes a timeless charm and manages to sway the industry with their appeal. Can be controversial. Probably the kind where someone snaps a random picture of them and uploads it and sudden everyone wants to know their name.
Taurus stellium—may play in a lot of rom coms, is known for their stunning beauty as an actor. Plays the mean girl very well. Their visuals are breathtaking. Jessica Alba has a taurus stellium. Taps into stereotypes very well and uses it to their advantage.
Scorpio moon—Channels their pain into acting. May play obscene roles with hatred, terror, sadness. Betrayal. These signs are great at channeling their past into their work because their body remembers it all. Great at scenes of sobbing from the depths of their soul. Great at action movies, thriller, psychological thriller.
Pisces degrees, pisces placements, pisces-venus asp- Love for music and film industry. Mostly into aesthetics and atmospheric films. Focuses more on creating mood and setting the environment. Loves to capture scenes of utter rawness and chaos. Yet it’s romanticized, they have a poetic way of acting.
Pisces also has an idol they look up to and take a lot of inspiration from them!
Gemini placements—Great at analyzing moments and scenes to deliver a great performance. Some Gemini’s go on to play roles involving a government, FBI, NCIS, CIA, etc. Mostly men are into calculated, pressurized roles such as playing a single father, Agent, cop, firefighter. Gemini women also tend to do the same, they play roles in which it describes an “alter ego,” “hidden” persona, like Natalie Portman in Black Swan. That film falls under psychology horror. These placements are great at character arcs/redemption arcs.
5h stellium, 5h venus, 5h sun/mars—Great for channeling creativity/passion!
10h Venus/Libra/Taurus—Ruled by aesthetics, romanticism, and fame. Popular individuals! May get stunning roles and get popular easily. Success follows them.
Jupiter 10h—Supreme reputation in their acting/media career. Always maintains a good image regardless of scandals, issues.
MC in leo—Ultimate get famous placement! Great actors of their time, almost timeless. Brings back an era of newness yet nostalgia everyone misses. Whether it be in their music or acting! Stunning and motivational individuals.
Virgo rising—May be into modeling and climb their way to the top! Loves photography, fashion and aesthetics. Finds art absolutely beautiful.
#asks#astrology community#devi post#astrology#tarotcommunity#divination#tarot deck#tarot#witchcraft#tarot reading#pick a pile#pick a picture#pick a card romance#pick a card#astro posts#astrology notes#astro notes#astro#astro observations#esoteric astrology#18+ astrology
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pick a bracelet; who will you date next?༊*·˚
pile 1 -> pile 2 pile 3 -> pile 4 take a deep breath, ask yourself "who is the next person that i will date?" and then pick the bracelet that you feel drawn to! it could be the one you think is the cutest, the one that you would wear, or the one that you feel you saw recently etc. it's up to you to trust your intuition.
pile 1 this could be someone who you meet at school. they are hardworking and extroverted. they are fun to be around. they are confident in themselves, but i see that deep down they don't really trust themselves. for some of you, this could be an ex. for others, this person has an ex that they thought they were going to be with forever. this person is very hot/attractive. i feel like they will be focused on career when you two meet. perhaps they are not looking for anyone but then they meet you. again, i feel like this could be someone from school/work. it may be a bit of a slow burn. this person will have trouble coming forward/making a move. i really feel that they have been through a breakup or major heartache in their life that changed them. they are a very generous and giving person. they may have self esteem issues. they don't always go after what they want. you will find this person to be very hot. they may be a creative person too.
zodiacs: scorpio, gemini, virgo, leo, aries, sagittarius
channeled song:
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pile 2 very strong taurus energy in this pile. earth and fire energy. this person is very beautiful, even if they're a man. i'm getting they can be more traditional and/or conservative in nature. they are extremely hardworking because they value and enjoy the material goods in life. they could be rich or well off, but they work hard regardless of that. this person is very focused on their future and making money. however, they are very charming and well liked. they dress well, smell good, look good. i feel like this is the type of person who a lot of people want but can't have because all they care about is money LMAOOOO! they will def spoil you with gifts and stuff. they will also push you to do better in your own career. this person is a B-O-S-S, it's giving daddy energy. they are very successful and well-liked. this person is your soulmate. think your dream person: that's them. this person will make your dreams come true in a way (whatever that means to you). this could be someone you're currently crushing on!
zodiacs: strong taurus, aries, fire and earth signs in general
song:
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pile 3 ok so this pile is a little heavier... i'm just going to go with what i'm getting and if it doesn't resonate, please choose a different pile! i'm honestly getting that this person will be in a relationship when you meet. for some of you, this could be an ex who is with someone else now. i'm getting that you will cheat with this person. they could be married too. affair energy. this could be someone who really hurt you in the past. you may have given up on them before because it was causing you a lot of heartache. this person may have cheated and you found out OR you were the other woman/man and that secret came out which caused some chaos. this person is depressed and because of that, they are hurting others and don't seem to care. this could be someone older, married, recently divorced, something like that. again, take what resonates! wasn't expecting something like this to come out...
zodiacs: pisces, leo, taurus
song:
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
pile 4 awww, this person is so sweet! this person is very pretty/handsome. it's giving boy/girl next door. this could be someone who you had a small crush on at some point but it didn't really go anywhere so you moved on. you may meet them at school/work. this person is witty and intelligent. they are not shallow, but rather they have substance and a complex mind. i feel like this person will be reserved, but not boring. they conserve their energy, but they are also fun and interesting once you talk to them. this person will help you heal your past heartaches in some way. perhaps you thought all men/women were one way, but this person proves you wrong. this person is sweet and romantic. they are a true sweetie with a heart of goldddd, soft affff i'm telling you! they are sincere and they will confess their feelings to you in a very heartfelt way!
zodiacs: strong pisces, taurus, aquarius, leo, scorpio
song:
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
thank you so much for tuning in, i hope i was able to deliver a message that resonated with you. have a beautiful day ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
#tarotblr#tarot reading#tarot readings#pick a pile#pac#pick a card reading#detailed pac#tarot#divination#cartomancy#pick an image#pick a photo#tarot pick a pile#free tarot#love tarot reading#love tarot#free tarot reading love#crush pick a card reading#crush pac reading#crush#tarot crush#pick a card readings#astrology#spirituality#zodiac signs#zodiac
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THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.
✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x f!reader | 4.3k words
✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, flashback centric, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, mentions of injuries, violence, societal inequality, arguments, hateful speech towards hybrids, dysfunctional families, and a shit ton of angst and anger, lil fluff at the end !!
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: hiii it's my birthday this weekend so i'm dropping chapter 4 as a quick thank you for all the support !! i love you all so much <33 this one is very toji centric and gives a lot of his past and lore to explain why he is the way he is and what led him to find reader !! there is a lot of inequality in this chapter so keep that in mind as you proceed. as always i would recommend checking out the previous parts before reading this :33
prev. | series masterlist.
the smell of blood makes toji's eyes crack open. it fills his nostrils, heavy and metallic, and it makes his hair stand on end. despite being so used to that scent, it still makes him uneasy, because sometimes he cannot tell whose blood it is.
once his eyes adjust to the dim lighting, he can't fall back asleep, though he knows he still needs rest. a series of cracks echo from his joints as he sits up, pulses of fatigue swimming through his muscles. pushing up from the ground, he casually approaches the metal bars of his cell.
his cage.
his nose twitches, the smell of blood stronger now that he's closer. a loud yawn rips from his throat, eyes catching some guards dragging another hybrid who had fought that day. he watches them throw the unconscious animal into his cell, not sparing another glance as they turn away. the sounds of their boots gets on toji's nerves, but he does not even have enough time to pity the poor creature.
another set of guards approach his cell. he's sure that they might once again tell him off for being too aggressive, or for not following orders, or for another whipping, but he's saved this time because they're just escorting a hybrid.
a familiar hybrid.
"what's wrong?" toji drawls, lips tugging into a casual smirk. "did y'lose?"
the tiger hybrid hisses angrily in return, as though personally offended, and bares his teeth. his striped ears starkly contrast his pinkish hair.
"like hell," sukuna answers proudly.
toji is about to comment on the various bloodied scratches littering sukuna's body, but one of the guards roughly shoves the tiger into his cell.
"get in!"
sukuna turns to pin him with a murderous glare, tone even and chilling. "touch me again and i'll kill you."
the guard scoffs, unbothered, before shutting the barred door behind him. sukuna's anger rises, but he does not say anything else, choosing to stare daggers at them until they've disappeared around the corner. toji understands the feeling. it would be a piece of cake to rip their throats out, especially for predators as vicious as wolves and tigers.
but they can't. one scratch on a human and they'd be put down.
a beat of silence passes. toji is sure the hybrid sitting across the hall is also thinking about the same thing, so used to biting his tongue just to stay alive.
(he remembers the first day sukuna got thrown in, hisses and snapping teeth as he cursed the guards with all sorts of creativity. toji had been underground long enough to see the same spectacle over and over again, and so he hadn't really given a damn at that time. the two passed weeks in silence, purely focused on their own individual fights and then immediately falling asleep once back in their respective cells.
toji was no expert at reading people, but he could tell that the tiger was as stubborn as he was—they refused to acknowledge one another.
and when they were finally pitted against each other, it was a messy fight. toji still remembers the way the crowd had roared at their aggressive attacks, every draw of blood eliciting some sick twisted pleasure within them.
toji had been used to putting in the bare minimum during his fights, finding it relatively easy to win against other predators. but that fight against sukuna was the first time he struggled a little bit.
the tiger will never admit it, but the feeling was definitely mutual.
so after the brawl, when they were both quietly sitting in their cages and hissing at their wounds stubbornly, there was a brief moment of acknowledgement.
"where the hell did you learn how to fight like that?" the tiger had eyed toji warily, thick brows furrowed in a way that made him look extra grumpy.
after that, it seemed that there was a mutual sense of respect between the two of them. they are not friends per se, definitely not. both toji and sukuna know that if it came down to it, they would kill the other in the arena if it meant staying alive.
but there was an understanding that they were both on the same level. and it seemed that those who ran the fights understood that too.
after all, fights between the two of them were always a very popular spectacle.)
even now, sukuna doesn't look at toji, too busy muttering a string of insults aimed at the guard from earlier. toji ignores them, used to it. they remain in that same silence, not uncomfortable, but not really comfortable either.
toji takes a seat, crossing his legs and leaning against the cold bars. he can still hear the sounds of the guards footsteps echoing through the halls, and that just makes him crave freedom—another familiar feeling.
he should be used to it by now. craving what he cannot have.
sukuna seems to know what he's thinking, because he scoffs with a dramatic roll of his eyes. "don't start."
"you don't ever think about running?" toji ponders, dragging his claws across the stone floor. the tiger's ears twitch, sensitive to the sound, and he throws toji a scathing scowl.
"run? where the hell would we go?" the tiger grumbles, crossing his bulky arms. "you know they'll just find us again. it's pointless."
"but it's happened before," toji insists, scratching behind his ear absentmindedly. there have always been whispers floating through the compound, of hybrids with guts of steel that took it upon themselves to make a run for it. though several were caught and devastatingly punished, there were those who they never saw again. the idea that they must be somewhere where light shines and wind blows is strangely comforting.
"yeah rarely," the tiger snorts in return. a quiet hiss of displeasure escapes his lips as he notices the claw marks running up his arm, and he carefully begins licking at his wounds. "most of the time those fools get caught. and then they get punished."
toji shrugs noncommittally, leaning his head against the bars. "worth the risk."
sukuna curiously peers at him from over his injured arm, heavy brows furrowed. "you really think it's that much better up there?"
"anywhere's better than in here." toji says it resolutely, and sukuna, normally so snippy, says nothing to rebuke him.
before the conversation can continue, toji's nostrils fill with a familiar scent—cigarettes, ironed clothes, faint whiskey. he suppresses a roll of his eyes.
"look who it is." he sarcastically cranes his neck, watching as shiu kong approaches his cell with a nonchalant smile.
"you sure do look relaxed for someone who just had me do a shit ton of paperwork." shiu leans against the wall, eyeing toji through the cell. toji does not like that he has to look up to meet his gaze, so he gets to his feet and casually crosses his arms.
"what the fuck did i do?"
"lots of people enjoyed your fight yesterday. with the polar bear?" shiu pulls out a cigarette, and toji's nose crinkles. "you've got an increase in bets, y'know?"
"who cares?" toji mutters, pushing away from the bars to pace around his cell.
it's not like any of the hybrids get that money.
"i do," shiu chuckles, cigarette balanced between his lips. "you're helping me get paid."
"lucky you," toji sarcastically shoots back. shiu snorts in amusement, crossing his arms.
"anyways, i'm thinking this is a good time to host a big fight for you. the timing is good." toji's "manager" (if that's what you can call him) eyes the wolf as he exhales a puff of smoke. toji's eyes narrow in return, a feeling of anticipation and mild irritation crawling up his skin.
"so you two—" shiu nods his head towards the wolf and the grumpy tiger sitting across the hall. "—prepare for a show, alright?"
sukuna curses colorfully, and toji rolls his eyes. "relax. i'm not giddy to fight you either, asshole."
"yeah because you'll lose," the tiger hisses, baring his teeth.
"oh yeah? that's not what happened last time." toji grins wolfishly, watching sukuna's anger rise.
"because you fucking cheated!"
"aw, little cat can't handle a few bites?" toji's amusement becomes more palpable, enjoying the argument—a very common occurrence for the two of them. "that's why dogs are better."
"i'll kill you," sukuna utters ominously, his striped tail puffed and curling in an aggressively defensive display.
"try it," toji smirks back.
"alright easy boys," shiu chuckles, shaking his head in mild exasperation. "save that energy for the actual fight. people eat that shit up."
"and somehow we're the animals," sukuna grumbles, deciding he's done with the conversation as he heads over to the corner of his cell and curls up on the ground.
"well yeah," shiu shrugs, unfazed. "you should be used to that by now."
they are.
"anyway i figured i'd let you know." the older man turns to face toji. "i know most of the fights are pretty easy for you. but since you both are top tier fighters, prepare how you need to."
"it's not like we've never fought before," toji replies dryly, ears twitching. "i know how it goes down."
"well okay." shiu adjusts his suit jacket, shoving his hands into his pockets.
from the corner of his eye, toji can see sukuna listening in, face impassive.
"you two give me a good show, alright?" shiu casually waves over his shoulder, before heading off back in the direction he came.
"whatever," sukuna grunts, turning on his side. toji watches the tiger's tail lazily flick—side to side. "i hate dogs."
toji lets out a dry chuckle. "well i'm not the biggest fan of cats either, asshole."
again, they aren't friends, but the bleakness of their situation makes it easier to tolerate one another.
a week later, they both face off in the area as promised. shiu claps toji on the back before he heads in, a gesture that makes the wolf's skin prickle, but he brushes it off. he could have someone worse be in charge of him, but shiu is a bit easier to get along with than most of the humans down there. though toji isn't naive—the only reason shiu is so casually cheery around him is because toji is his biggest moneymaker.
that's what it all came down to.
sukuna and toji have both fought enough times to know how to play to the crowd's wishes. they bark and snarl at each other like they are truly wild, claws and teeth and blood everywhere because they know that's what gets the humans going.
that's what gets them to open their wallets at least.
sukuna takes the victory this time around, which is not inherently unusual—they both have a fairly even split of victories and losses. they play up their enmity, and everyone goes wild.
even though hybrids are the shackled ones, somehow these humans remind toji of puppets—so easily manipulated.
the two of them stand and rile up the crowd at the end, acting like they truly are nothing but feral animals who know only to growl and snap at each other. as soon as they hear the sounds of money being exchanged and the roar of conversation they are escorted back to their cells.
toji's ears ring with the sounds of groans and cheers, the same familiar words grating his ears.
"i told you sukuna would win this one!"
"yeah but i said toji would draw first blood, so pay up!"
imbeciles. savages. nothing humane about them.
in their cells, both of them do their best to clean up their wounds. but a fight this aggressive usually results in equally rough damage.
"i think you fractured my rib or something," toji grunts, wincing as he sits down. sukuna throws him an unimpressed look through the bars of his cage.
"not my fault you're weak."
toji's middle finger flies up automatically, and sukuna's lips pull up to one side. "ask them for medical if it's that bad."
"yeah right," toji snorts, licking away the blood that has been dripping from the corner of his mouth. "like they'll listen."
it's more of a curse that hybrids have a better pain tolerance than humans. the medics here never take their injuries seriously for that exact reason.
no instead, they are expected to clean up as they can and prepare for the next fight, letting their body heal as well as possible. humans have always been so hypocritical.
they both relax in a welcome silence. toji suddenly realizes how tired he is, jade eyes straining as he attempts to fix himself up. he knows the rules—damaged merchandise is treated as such.
his ears pick up the faint sound of footsteps approaching, and he realizes that it's probably shiu coming over to update them about the earnings of their fights.
but he is entirely surprised.
"wow, you're definitely a sight."
toji's eyes narrow, teeth gritting. his mood plummets, ears straightening and tail going rigid. the sound of that voice makes every bit of hatred in toji's body come bubbling to the surface. he glares over his shoulder, spitting out each word with extreme difficulty. "what the fuck do you want?"
naoya zenin looks down his nose at the wolf, a greasy smile on his face. naobito zenin stands just behind him, arms crossed with a barely visible look of disgust on his face.
toji's cousin conveniently ignores the accusatory question, peering around the cells and hallway with feigned interest. "these conditions are terrible!"
he finally pins toji with his gaze, an evil smile pulling at his lips. "well, that's to be expected for animals."
"what the fuck do you want?!" toji growls, claws digging into the ground. naoya's eyes light up at the anger, knowing full well that those claws can never come anywhere near him.
"temper! temper!" the blonde gasps, tutting at toji like he's nothing more than a child. "haven't you learned how to control yourself by now?"
"let me out of this cell and i'll show you just how much control i have." the wolf's voice is no more than a rumble, dark and ominous because there is nothing in the world that toji hates more than his own family.
naoya shakes his head, feigning a look of disappointment. "so violent. it's a good thing we put you in here. who knows how dangerous you could've been to us."
the words hit their mark, a jab of self-hatred. toji's green eyes flit over to his uncle, sharp and accusatory.
the one who ratted him out to this godforsaken place.
toji knows when normal families have a predator hybrid born into their home, they lie and cheat and hide them away from this life—too desperate to keep their child away from such danger. after all, it's not the child's fault they were born a predator.
but not toji's family. not the zenins, who took one look at him and waited for the second he turned 18 before hauling him off.
nothing but a bunch of rats.
he knows that he was worth a lot of money. a healthy and fit wolf hybrid, broader and stronger than most of his own species. and of course, his family was quick to sell him off, glad to be rid of this curse on their family—the only shame.
toji had grown up knowing he was hated, but he never thought a family could do something so horrible to one of their own. he stopped seeing the best in people after that.
"you brought this on yourself," his uncle states now, emotionless. his opinion on hybrids has not changed one bit, and yet he shamelessly comes to the compound to collect a portion of the winnings that toji earns. "born with tainted blood."
"you're acting like it's my fucking fault, old man," toji spits out, hackles raised. he wants them to leave, because all he feels when looking at them is nausea.
"it's your damn mother's fault. couldn't keep away from my brother. she ruined him," naobito's emotionless voice takes on a tone of hatred, and toji tenses. "filthy dog whore."
toji's reaction is instantaneous. he's at the bars in a second, teeth bared and spewing curses as he makes a mad grab for either of them. he doesn't care—all he wants to do is tear them to shreds. toji can feel his wounds open further, can feel blood dripping over his skin, but all that seems miniscule when they are in front of him.
the cause of every single misfortune he has ever had.
naoya hops out of the way, laughing—it is a mocking, grating laugh that echoes throughout the hall as he watches toji desperately struggle. "see see! this is why you're dangerous!"
naobito shakes his head, as though he's thoroughly disappointed, but he does not say anything else.
"anyways, well done today!" naoya continues, grinning as he crosses his arms. "you earned a lot of money for us."
toji glares at him, dropping his arm and taking a step back. somehow, being further in his cell is much more comforting than being in their line of sight. he keeps his lips tightly shut.
naoya's voice turns taunting as naobito heads off without another word. "such a shame my dear cousin wasn't born normal like the rest of us." he follows his father without a care in the world, knowing how well his words sting. "had to be born an animal freak."
the hallways is empty. toji takes a few steadying breaths, pushing the anger away because he knows that there is truly no point in keeping it. it's not like this anger has done him any good. maybe if he had gotten angry earlier, he would have zenin blood on his hands—the thought gives him a sick sense of satisfaction.
"your family fucking sucks…" sukuna pipes up from across the hall. toji scoffs out a laugh, but it is far from amused. he turns away.
suddenly the blood on his hands makes him feel disgusting—so much more animalistic than human.
"tell me about it," he mutters, back turned. his ears pick up the sounds of sukuna curling up in his corner, and in a few minutes, quiet rumbling snores follow.
toji sighs, approaching his sink and staring at the cracked mirror he's grown used to seeing himself in. he takes in his reflection, disgust rolling in his stomach.
he thinks he'd probably be considered decently attractive if he was a regular old human. but the dark furry ears, the sharp canines, and all the scars ruin him. adding his haggard clothing and feral eyes and all the blood and dirt on him, he can understand why he is considered so untouchable.
an animal in every right.
he turns the sink on. he is briefly reminded of another time, a time where he lived in a family house and slept in a futon that was warmer than anything he's ever slept in. he can remember wearing things other than rags, occasionally a yukata and other times a t-shirt. he can remember eating a home cooked meal and drinking sake and feeling sunlight on his skin.
and yet even in those better times, he has always had to hear the words of his family cursing his existence. cursing his mother's name for seducing his father and ruining their bloodline with her animal blood.
the only dark stain on the pristine zenin family.
toji sighs, scrubbing the blood from under his claws—like clockwork. the water in the sink turns a mocking shade of pink, and as horrible as it is to say, toji is glad the blood is not his.
he wipes his paws across his ragged clothes, and stares at himself in the mirror.
he isn't ashamed to admit it—but he hates what he sees.
naoya's laughter rings in his ears as he shuts his eyes.
"hey toji?"
his eyes snap open. when the haze clears he sees your features come into focus, soft and curious. your scent floods his nose, and a pleasant shiver runs up his skin. there is a quick sense of relief when he realizes that he had been dreaming of a time in the past, and he steels himself, expression indifferent as he sits up. he briefly recognizes the stark contrast between the hardness of the stone floor in his cell and the softness of your couch—his tongue sits heavy in his mouth.
"what?" he grunts, rubbing at his eyes. he tries to throw you a mock irritated glance, but either it comes off too mild or you've become good at ignoring it. "when'd you get here?"
"a few minutes ago. i got takeout." your lips pull into a teasing smile. "unless you'd rather go back to sleep?"
he pins you with a scathing glare, and annoyingly enough, your smile becomes wider. he stands up, popping his joints and following you to your kitchen table, before diligently taking a seat—in his chair.
toji silently watches you bustle around, grabbing utensils and plates to evenly distribute the food. his stomach growls eagerly, and he realizes just how hungry he is—he recognizes that his body is getting used to being fed so often, and he does not know how to feel about that.
toji's eyes zero in on silly details, not knowing why he does it. your hair is a little messy, not as neat as when you left for work that morning. you've taken off your jacket, the absence of the restrictive fabric making your movements easier. he thinks you've probably had a good day, because your expression, though fatigued, is still relaxed—a small, almost miniscule smile remains on your face.
there a strange satisfaction the settles in his chest when he notices that. he doesn't know why, but the idea that you've had a nice day rather than a difficult one puts him at ease.
"how was your day?" you speak up, briefly making eye contact with him.
(toji does not understand why the small contact makes his stomach flip.)
he grunts, nonchalant. "not bad. didn't do much."
"the injuries are good?"
toji rolls his eyes, dropping his chin into his palm as he pins you with an intrusive stare. "yeah yeah. you ask this every day."
"well it can be good one day and not good the next," you reply defensively, frowning at the chicken you're currently dropping into his plate. but you look satisfied to hear his answer.
toji chuckles mutely. "sure kid."
(the nickname came randomly. you never commented on it. he didn't either.)
he hesitates for a second, before clearing his throat. "how was yours?"
you glance up at him, too quick for him to analyze the expression, but he thinks he catches a faint trace of pleasant surprise. "it was good. boring but not bad at all."
he nods awkwardly—the internal satisfaction grows stronger. his stomach rumbles again as you walk over and place his plate in front of him, and the smell hits his nose immediately—his hunger is all consuming.
(your scent is one of the few human scents he has truly found pleasant.)
and yet he finds himself patiently waiting until you plate your own food, sitting across him quietly. he presses his hands together, bowing his head as he mutters a quiet "thank you for the food" before tucking in.
(he does not say your name, but he thinks he is thanking you—his own twisted version of a god.)
he stays quiet for most of the meal, focusing on the unique and savory taste of the food. months ago he would not have imagined being able to consume such delicacy, but all you have done since you walked into his life is show him that he can have much more than he ever dreamed he could.
you blabber about random things as you eat, telling him about something you saw or what you did throughout the day. he listens.
you're in the middle of updating him about some stupid work drama, which, as embarrassing as it is to say, toji has been looking forward to hearing about. he does not interrupt you, trying to rack his brain for all the details you've spilled the last time.
(it's pathetic how quick he finds them. something about listening to you talk that makes everything else seem useless in comparison.)
"so anyways her husband found out and got mad. but then she basically tried to deny it and said that he was accusing her of nothing." you shove a mouthful of rice into your mouth, rolling your eyes. your tongue flicks out to lick at your lips—toji's eyes shamefully trace the movement. "it's a whole thing now because obviously the dude she was having the affair with works with us too."
"what a bitch," toji answers. your eyes crinkle with amusement, eager to hear him participating. you've probably since realized that he does find your gossip interesting. but it's more than that—he does not know why it's so easy to talk to you.
"right? i hate cheaters," you mutter, stabbing at your chicken.
he does too. something about being a dog that makes loyalty so damn important to him.
(maybe that's why he feels physically ill when he thinks about leaving your side.)
you continue rambling about your cheating coworker with a newfound conviction. toji listens, occasionally dropping a dry remark, and you either laugh or nod emphatically. his lips quirk upward at every reaction. he continues eating his food—slowly so that he can match your pace. which is odd, because he was so damn hungry before.
but even as he quietly chews on the flavored meat, he finds that satiety comes a lot quicker when he quietly listens to you talk.
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Just back from Alien Romulus and hoooo boy oh boy. Review/analysis.
Easily the best Alien movie since the first two, which isn't saying much, yeah, but it is legit a really cool and well-made movie, competing with Late Night With The Devil, Longlegs, and Cuckoo for title of my favorite horror movie this year.
In a lot of ways it's about harvesting the few good ideas from the post-2 movies that were squandered and doing them right, plus getting the series back to it's healthier roots, kinda the movie equivalent of someone doing physical therapy to get back in the saddle after an injury. This means it's not quite brand new ground like some may hope for and I've heard some people feel it gets a little derivative at points because of it. I can kinda agree and certainly understand that criticism, but I feel it does what it's aiming for really well and sets things up for future works to go in even crazier directions. Furthermore, it takes a lot of time to try and weld together the disparate post-2 movies in a way that brings the series back to a little coherency.
The atmosphere is really intense and cool, swinging between lovecraftian dread and build-up and high-energy chaos. The aesthetics and special effects are gorgeous, taking full advantage of the progress that technology has made since 2 plus really digging in to the used cassette future vibe of the older films. The characters are likable and actually intelligent (or at least understandable) in behavior like in the first two movies, so you care about what's happening to them instead of just waiting for them to get munched. The action and kills were really cool and creative, the cinematography in general was off-kilter in an awesome way - there's a definite attempt to make the movie feel claustrophobic and intimate. Fede Alvarez did a fantastic job in general, I'd love to see him do more with the series.
It REALLY cranks up the series' psychosexual, freudian, and sexual assault subtext, arguably to a point where it's just plain text. So if you're sensitive to stuff like that or if this is your first go at Alien, be warned for that.
More specific notes go under the header for spoilers. Highly recommend you go in as blind as you can.
Andy and Rain were wonderful leads, their dynamic was fantastic and Calie Spaeny and David Jonsson both turned in great performances. I direly hope they join the first two films' casts as "major" characters for the series going forward.
The effects to make Daniel Betts look like Ian Holms were quite possibly the one and only time the special effects failed. It looks very wonky, which is sad because Betts does a really good job copying Holms' mannerisms for Ash while still making Rook feel like a distinct character.
In addition to the usual themes of sexual unease, genetics, and parenthood, this movie adds in some really interesting themes of familial legacy, the rise of new generations, foundations, etc.. Andy and Rain are like Romulus and Remus of myth, orphaned and left to fend for themselves but growing into founders of a new age - both in-story with their carrying the XX121 substance and evidence of Weyland-Yutani's misdeeds to Yvaga and out-of-story with them being the protagonists of a new era for Alien. Likewise, the Offspring is the first example of an entirely new species, neither human nor alien but taking from the lineages of both through Kay and Big Chap, a Romulus-like founder of it's breed that will later bear fruit in Resurrection with the Ripley clone and Newborn.
I'm really not kidding when I say above that the psychosexual undercurrents are taken to the extreme here. This movie basically sees the ways the original film subtly pin-pricked at those themes, says "fuck that", and deliberately rubs it in your face in a way designed to make sure you can't ignore it. It wants you to be grossed out and to squirm in your chair and it knows exactly how to make it happen.
Alvarez noted in the lead-up to release that he took a lot of influence from Isolation and you can definitely see that in how he depicts the Xenomorphs and the general aura of the film. He further described it as a kind of halfway point between the first and second movies and you can also see that; it has the Lovecraft-style tension and horror of the first, balanced with the energy and action of the second, and it does a really good job finding a middle ground between Ridley Scott and James Cameron's styles while also doing it's own dance.
I mentioned way back at the start how the movie basically harvests the good ideas from 3, Resurrection, Prometheus, and Covenant and gives them the room they deserve while dumping the bad. It does that in both terms of themes/style and continuity/lore. Concepts that those movies bungled like xeno-human hybridism, the black goo, genetic engineering as a focus, and so on are done here more creatively and competently. Themes that those films tried and failed to tackle are handled with significantly more grace. It has the atmosphere and characterization of 3 but none of it's baggage and needlessly depressive tone. It has the body horror and weirdness of Resurrection without taking it to the zany, embarrassing areas that movie went. The effects and creativity of Prometheus and Covenant without any of their awful writing and clumsy messages. Alvarez takes on kind of an Al Ewing-esque "repairman" writing style here.
The Xenomorphs are absolutely deranged in behavior compared to most portrayals, attacking like either cruel sadists or raging chimps and rarely bothering to take hosts. I'm not sure if such a reading was intended, but I got the vibe that the idea is Xenos raised without a queen or hive grow to be basically sociopathic like how real world predatory animals grown without parental figures become feral and dysfunctional. Which would also explain a lot about how the Xeno in the original movie, Big Chap, acts there.
The Offspring's design is fucking wicked and I love it.
One of my few major criticisms is that Big Chap died off-screen instead of getting more to do. What was the point of having him be alive at the start if he wasn't gonna be used beyond a backstory point to set up the main story?
All in all, a very impressive effort and a great return to form for the series that I recommend highly.
#alien romulus#alien romulus spoilers#fede alvarez#alien franchise#xenomorph#alien 1979#alien#aliens#alien 3#alien movie#alien resurrection#prometheus#alien covenant#ridley scott#james cameron#movie review#movies#films#horror movies#horror film#horror
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blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so
Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.
Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.
Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.
Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go.
Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe.
Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.
Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling.
Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo.
It was the proverbial straw.
“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”
Nothing.
“HEY!”
He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead.
Silence rang for a beat.
Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range.
The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Geez, need attention much?”
Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?”
Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.”
It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.
But, see. That just gave him an idea.
Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all.
“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,”
He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude.
“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly.
“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”
It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up.
“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”
“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified. “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.
“Yeah?”
“Can you come here?”
The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.
“You tired?”
“Uh, no. I’m fine--”
“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm.
There was a countdown, three, two, one...
A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs. “Dude, what the hell?”
“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”
“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?”
Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth.
“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?”
Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.
“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.
God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking.
Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.”
Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move.
“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,” Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them.
“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”
“Dude, Eddie, noooo!”
“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.”
“You guys, let’s just go already,”
“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,”
The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together.
It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.
What can he say? He’s a weak man.
“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in.
“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.”
A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that.
The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!”
The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly.
#Listen this is cheesy and poorly written but i HAD to#go find that tik tok because it was hilarious but also radiated love and healthy parenting#they called it 'gentle parenting with malicious intent' looooool#steddie#the party#my brain vomit
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Reaper's Guide to Romance - Idia Shroud x reader
When reaper Idia Shroud is assigned to collect your soul, he can't help but come up with increasingly ridiculous excuses to spare you.
Idia Shroud wasn’t having a good time. He never expected to enjoy being a grim reaper, of course. But this? This was torture. Every time he was assigned to take your soul, something in him short-circuited, and he’d find the dumbest, most illogical reason not to do it. And now, his reaper colleagues had started keeping a list—an actual, physical list—of his increasingly absurd excuses.
Today, they were gathered in their usual spot—an ethereal break room (don’t ask)—and once again, Idia was trying to justify why you were still, you know, alive.
Riddle Rosehearts, the epitome of order and rules, was glaring at Idia with a look that could melt steel. His clipboard (obviously) was ready, quill poised for judgment.
"So, Idia, why didn’t you reap this time?" Riddle asked with a sigh, clearly running low on patience.
Idia’s hair flickered with nervous blue flames. "W-Well… they were having a tea party!"
Riddle blinked slowly. "And?"
"And, you know, you can’t just interrupt a tea party. It’s like, super rude! Imagine, they’re just about to take a sip of perfectly steeped tea, and bam! I swoop in with my scythe, just ruining the whole vibe!" Idia flailed his arms, wide-eyed. "It’d be chaos!"
Riddle’s eye twitched as he wrote down: Excuse #101: Tea party interruption is ‘chaotic.’
"You… can’t be serious," Riddle muttered, but with Idia, this was business as usual.
"It’s a thing! You know, tea etiquette! I figured you’d get it!" Idia added defensively.
"That is the most ridiculous—" Riddle started, but Idia quickly mumbled something about ‘strict standards’ and slinked away before Riddle could go on another tirade about tea etiquette versus grim reaper duties.
Leona was next, leaning against a pillar, his usual half-lidded gaze fixed on Idia with a mix of amusement and disdain. "So what’s the deal this time, Shroud? Too busy playing video games or something?"
Idia groaned, rubbing his temples. "N-No! I had a valid reason this time!"
"Uh-huh. Let’s hear it." Leona’s smirk was all too ready.
"They were napping!"
Leona blinked, his smile vanishing. "Napping?"
"Yeah!" Idia nodded enthusiastically. "I mean, come on. Napping is sacred! You of all people should get it! Would you want to be woken up by some creepy reaper dude hovering over you like, ‘Oh hey, time to die, sorry about your nap?’ It’d totally ruin their REM cycle."
Leona snorted, shaking his head as he scrawled on the list. "Excuse #102: ‘Napping is sacred.’ You’re unbelievable, Shroud."
"It’s just… common decency, man!" Idia whined, knowing full well Leona was probably internally agreeing but couldn’t resist giving him a hard time.
Leona waved him off. "Next time, just bring a pillow or something."
Azul was perched behind a desk, his fingers steepled in that smug way he did when he was about to make Idia squirm. "Let me guess, you’ve come up with another… creative justification, Idia?"
Idia winced. He really didn’t want to get into this one, but here he was. "W-Well, they were in the middle of a… negotiation."
Azul’s eyes gleamed. "Negotiation?"
"Yeah, you know, like, a super important deal! I couldn’t just cut in and ruin that!" Idia blurted, waving his hands around. "You of all people should get it, Azul! I mean, contracts and deals? Imagine, they’re about to secure the best terms, and then I show up like some kind of… death interruptus. I’d be killing their vibe!"
Azul smiled, entertained. "Killing their vibe, Idia? Or their chance at a good deal?"
"Both!" Idia exclaimed, a little too loudly.
Azul chuckled as he scribbled down the next entry: Excuse #103: ‘Interrupting contract negotiations would kill the vibe.’
"Honestly, Idia, if you spent as much time reaping as you making excuses for them, you’d be the most efficient reaper of us all," Azul teased.
Idia mumbled something incoherent and slunk off, hating how right Azul was.
When Kalim found out about the list, he was nothing but sunshine and encouragement. He didn’t even seem to mind that Idia was epically failing at his job.
"So what happened this time, Idia?" Kalim asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet, excited as ever.
"They looked… too happy," Idia muttered, cringing.
Kalim’s smile widened. "Aww, that’s sweet! You didn’t want to take away their happy moment, right?"
"Y-Yeah, exactly! How could I just roll in and ruin it? They were, like, glowing! Not literally, I mean, but they had that look, you know?" Idia stammered, running out of words to explain himself.
Kalim beamed. "That’s so thoughtful of you, Idia! Good vibes are important!" He turned to the list, which was rapidly filling up. Excuse #104: ‘Couldn’t ruin the happy vibes.’
Idia, still flustered, muttered, "It’s not like I wanted to let them live…"
Vil stood there, arms crossed, looking like he’d just tasted something unsatisfactory. "So, Idia, what excuse do you have this time?" His tone was all but dripping with disdain.
Idia hesitated. This one was even more ridiculous than usual. "W-Well, they were in the middle of their skincare routine."
Vil’s perfectly arched brow shot up. "Their… skincare routine?"
Idia nodded furiously. "Yeah, like, you know the ten-step thing? They were deep in it—cleansing, exfoliating, moisturizing, all that jazz. You can’t just take someone’s soul mid-routine! Their skin would freak out from the stress. I’d be responsible for, like, eternal breakouts."
Vil stared at him in utter disbelief. "You’re telling me you let them live because of… skincare?"
"Hey, good skin is a serious commitment!" Idia defended, folding his arms.
Vil sighed, jotting down the next entry: Excuse #105: ‘Interrupting skincare would cause eternal breakouts.’
"I’ve never heard something so… absurd, yet strangely respectful," Vil muttered, rubbing his temples.
Finally, Malleus stood before Idia, arms crossed and looking ever so regal. He tilted his head slightly. "So, Shroud… what is your reason this time?"
Idia stammered. This one was, without a doubt, the dumbest excuse he’d ever come up with. "U-Uh… I got lost."
Malleus blinked. "Lost?"
"Yeah! There were… gargoyles."
"Gargoyles," Malleus repeated, deadpan.
"Look, I got distracted by their craftsmanship, and then I, uh, took a wrong turn," Idia said, voice shrinking by the second.
Malleus, maintaining his composure, glanced at the ever-growing list. "I see. Excuse #106: ‘Got distracted by gargoyles.’ A most… unique excuse."
Idia could feel his soul slowly withering under Malleus’s cool gaze.
Idia had managed to avoid reaping you so many times that even you had started to notice something was up. You weren’t sure why the world’s most awkward reaper kept showing up and then… not doing his job, but it had gotten to the point where you couldn’t help but laugh about it.
One day, after catching him lurking around awkwardly—again—you decided to confront him.
"Okay, I have to ask," you said, leaning casually against a tree. "Why do you keep sparing me? It’s not like you’ve been subtle about it."
Idia flinched, his hair flashing a bright blue as he tried to think of a response. "I-I don’t… what? N-No! That’s not…!"
You raised an eyebrow. "You didn’t take me because of tea parties, naps, gargoyles, and skincare routines, didn’t you?"
Idia froze, his mouth hanging open as he realized you somehow knew everything. "H-How did you—?"
"Lucky guess," you said, grinning. "So, what’s the real reason?"
Idia shuffled awkwardly, avoiding your gaze. "I-I just… I couldn’t… I’m not good at this, okay?! Reaping, or talking to people, or…" He trailed off into his usual nervous mumbling.
You chuckled, stepping closer to him. "Well, you know, if you keep sparing me, I’m gonna start thinking you like me or something."
Idia’s hair flared bright pink at your teasing, and he backed up a step, nearly tripping over his own feet. "W-What?! Like you?! No, no, that’s… that’s crazy! I mean, sure, you’re… cool, or whatever, but that doesn’t mean—"
You grinned wider, cutting him off. "So, you like me?"
His face flushed redder than his hair had ever glowed, and he stammered incoherently, "N-No! I mean… Y-Yes? I… I don’t know! It’s not like I’ve done this before!"
Your laugh rang out through the quiet air, and Idia looked mortified. You couldn’t help but find his awkwardness endearing. "Wow, Idia, I didn’t know grim reapers could be this cute."
"C-Cute?! Don’t… call me that!" He looked like he was ready to melt into the ground, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you.
You stepped closer, smiling mischievously. "Alright, alright, I’ll stop messing with you. But if you’re that bad at taking souls, maybe you should stick to something you’re better at."
"Like what?" Idia asked, blinking in confusion.
"Like… taking me out for dinner instead," you suggested, your voice playful.
Idia’s eyes widened, and he gaped at you, absolutely dumbfounded. "D-Dinner?! You’re asking me out?!"
You laughed again, the sound light and teasing. "Well, you’ve spared my life at least ten times now. I think I owe you one."
For a moment, Idia just stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. His brain seemed to be buffering. "A-A date? With me?"
"Yeah, with you," you confirmed with a wink. "Unless, of course, you’d rather finish your job and reap my soul?"
Idia practically jumped. "N-No! I-I mean, yes! I mean… I’d rather not… do the reaping thing. I-I can’t believe this is happening…"
You smiled softly, watching him fidget nervously. "So? What do you say? Dinner?"
Idia’s mind was racing, and his hair was flickering wildly between blue and pink. "I… I guess… y-yeah? Yes! Yes, I-I’d like that…"
As he stumbled over his words, you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head fondly. "Great. It’s a date, then."
Idia’s heart was practically doing somersaults in his chest, and he could hardly believe what had just happened. As you walked away with a cheerful wave, he stood there, frozen in disbelief.
Lilia, who had been quietly observing the entire thing from the shadows, stepped out with a gleeful smile. "Ah, young love! Isn’t it wonderful, Idia?"
Idia groaned, burying his face in his hands. "L-Lilia, please don’t…"
But Lilia was already laughing, delighted beyond words. "It’s about time you stopped making excuses, my boy! Now go get ready for your date! You’ve got a life to live—or, at the very least, a dinner to survive."
Idia mumbled something about how his life was over, but despite his grumbling, there was a small, awkward smile on his face. After all, he’d just managed to get a date without even trying… even if it had taken about a hundred failed reaping attempts to get there.
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#idia shroud x you#idia shroud x reader#idia x you#idia x reader#twst x you#twisted wonderland x you
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