#curious what everyone else would choose!

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

tarot face cards for Boyd’s,?

Steve Murphy: The Tower. Steve goes through the *wringer* in Narcos. Him and Connie uproot themselves from Miami for a country where they don’t know the language or culture. Connie’s cat is immediately cat-napped and cat-murdered. Steve gets kidnapped. His partner is soft-betraying him. Connie leaves him and takes their daughter. People he likes die!! He has to make a lot of unpleasant choices that often don’t turn out great for him! Upheaval, tragedy, violence, and pain is sort of the name of the game for him here!

Donald Pierce: The Moon. Pierce is very insecure! Holbrook says as much in several interviews; Pierce desperately wants to project an image of strength and confidence, and as the film continues that pretense is gradually stripped away. He’s deeply anxious – Rice kind of has to kick him into gear later on, and he’s also pretty damn intuitive – he *did* easily track Logan down, he puts together the nurses’ plan, and he figures out quick that Caliban is stalling them.

Cap Hatfield: The Hierophant. Although Cap might not seem like the classic choice for this, I absolutely think he fits! He’s got an unwavering dedication to his family (and the sort of patriarchal structure therein), and he absolutely shares in a lot of the traditional values of the era… and his family specifically. He’s sweet, but he’s their little foot soldier!

Clement Mansell: The Lovers. Clement is always searching for a connection, whether that’s with Sandy, or Sweetie, or Raylan, or Carolyn. (And he will absolutely make huge, impulsive decisions for the people he likes too.) Clement is *always* attempting to reach out - emotionally, sexually, physically. He’s not very successful, but not for a lack of trying!!

The Corinthian: The Devil. Beyond the obvious, that Corinthian in the waking world indulges his appetites to excess (and he’s absolutely very materialistic), there’s also the fact that his entire character arc is permeated by an extreme sense of hopelessness. He’s trying to claw his way to freedom the entire season, and not ever really gaining much ground. He’s dependent on other people helping him (John, Ethel, Rose), and he’s bound by the knowledge of what will happen when Dream inevitably regains his power and comes after him.

Eli Klaber: The Fool. Despite Klaber being… what he is, there is also an undeniable innocence to him. He’s very trusting, very naive, and very hopeful! He wants to go on a big adventure with his boss! And his trigger-happy nature absolutely plays into this too. He’s ~spontaneous~! I even think he can fit with this card representing a lack of commitments despite his extreme loyalty to Voller - he’s someone that seems adrift in every other aspect of his life, and (accordingly to Holbrook) joined up primarily because he didn’t have anything or anyone else.

Ty Shaw: Death. Ty has to deal with a very sudden loss, and he actually does handle it really adeptly. He vows to get revenge, but he states pretty clearly that he’s not gonna stop trying to enjoy himself and live life. He isn’t in denial about what’s happened - he does let go in a lot of ways, embracing Ben into the family, designating Abby’s room the new guest bedroom. And there’s something in that his story in the movie begins and ends with two different deaths.

Quinn McKenna: Justice. I get the sense that justice as a concept is something that’s very important to Quinn. He tends to be sort of rigid in his sense of right and wrong, and this results in him sticking to his guns even when it screws him over. He doesn’t like lying, he doesn’t like when people lie to him, and there’s something interesting that despite the way the Government involuntarily commits him, he *still* joins back up later. At the end of the day he believes in the rule of law… but it’s also never gonna let that stop him from doing what he thinks is just.

[baeshijima]

i am predicting that sunday will be a nihility character to contrast robin's harmony (hoyo PLEASEEE make him a dot buffer 🙏 i really want him but if he won't synergize well with kafka then i fear i'll have to skip...)

honestly at this point i just want sunday to be drip marketed and released and in my account 😭😭 like i will be pulling him and his lc no matter what his synergy with the charas in my account are bc i need him. carnally. and desperately.

[teaboot]

I've never had a cat before and I'm hoping to get one soon. Do you have any advice?

Treat a new cat as you would a new roommate. Give them space and time to settle, establish a pattern and a rhythm, and in time they may choose to become friends and spend time with you. Dont force a friendship.

Use simple words and repetition to establish communication. Words like breakfast, treat, snack, lunch, supper, dinner, food, and eat all basically mean, "I am feeding you; expect to be fed", but it's a lot for a little guy to remember. I just say "Dinner" when I mean "cat food is coming", and so my boy knows exactly what I mean when I say it. As a plus, using only one word for snack time means he has no idea what the other words mean, so I can talk about food in front of him without ruling him up.

Pay attention to body language. Cats all have different personalities, and you'll learn their likes, dislikes, and messages over time this way. Son boy here loves anything with plumbing but dislikes getting wet- his favourite blanket to chew and snuggle goes on his favourite chair, and he gives me a specific gesture when he wants me to kneel down so he can jump onto my shoulder.

Read into problematic behaviour. Cats pee in weird places when they're hurting, in distress, or have insufficient of unclean litter box space. Biting, attacking feet , and knocking things off tables often means they're understimulated and need you to play with them, or at least need some kind of enrichment or puzzle to tackle. Tail flicking can be frustration or irritation. Purring is usually good, but may also be self-soothing behaviour to alleviate pain, encourage healing, and relieve anxiety, like over-grooming.

Like children, "bad" behaviour isn't malicious- it usually means there's something you aren't seeing.

Learn how your cat expresses love. Loads of people think cats are uncaring, cruel, and indifferent, but the truth is, they're just not dogs. Spending time near you, showing an interest in tools you're using or projects you're working on, sitting the way you sit, laying on their back, rubbing on your legs, wiping their face on your shoes when you get home- these are signs that your cat is enamored with you. You're their family, they feel safe and protected around you, they're curious about things you enjoy and want everyone to know you're family.

Set reasonable expectations. Again, cats are not dogs.We bred dogs to desire our approval- cats walked into our lives themselves. They have no human-programmed need to fulfill a duty or perform a task to your standards.

Training cats to do tricks isn't as hard as people say, but the willingness or interest in doing the trick is more heavily reliant on personality and mood. Some cats will refuse all but the most basic requests- I'm lucky in that Ollie understands and is willing to do several, provided I don't abuse his trust and he's not crowded or overwhelmed or just bored of doing it over and over in a short period.

Ollie, for example, knows Up to stand on his back legs and hold my hand, Down to get to a surface I indicate, Out to emerge from a closed space, Come to find me where I am, Help? when I'm offering to let him use me as an elevator, Dinner when I understand he's hungry and am getting food, and when I put on his collar he knows to climb into his carrier 'cause we're going somewhere. And he'll do any of these about 90% of the time, either ignoring me or phoning it in when there's something interesting somewhere else, or if he's feeling anxious.

Lead by example. If you dread taking them to the vet, they'll see the anxiety in your body language and behaviour and likely learn to hate it, too. Again using my guy an example, I starred taking him on walks long before his first vet appointment, just to get used to his carrier and leash. Then his first checkup was relaxed and informal, with plenty of treats, and I let him explore the examination room with permission from the tech. Now he loves going, so I'm not stressed about taking him, so I don't stress him out in turn, and the vest doesn't have to deal with a stressed out cat slowing things down and fighting with them.

Make sure your sources are good ones, and also good ones for you. I will recommend Jackson Galaxy's YouTube channel for cat advice because a lot of what he does matches up with what I've learned and know to be true. I don't personally recommend Ceasar Milan because I personally find his methods distressing to recreate regardless of efficacy, so even if that advice was useful, *I'd* be miserable, and it'd just be trading one issue for another.

Have a person who can help. You never know when you might end up out of town overnight unexpectedly, or when your place may need serviced or fumigated, or if you may be called out of town. Before getting a cat, research reliable pet sitters, house sitters, pet daycares, whatever, just in case.

Consider pet insurance. No long spiel here, just think about it. Especially if you don't know your cats ancestry or potenyial health risks. An on top of that, fucking vaccinate them.

Dont let them free roam. At all.

I grew up on a farm with free-roaming barn cats. Do you know how many times child-me cried over having to bury them? Illness, disease, pregnancy, vehicles, other territorial cats, ticks, fleas, litter, poisoned prey, malicious humans, local wildlife, predatory birds, scrap metal, extreme heat, freezing temperatures, tainted water sources, poisonous or venomous critters, getting stuck in small or high places, tapeworms, loose nails, old equipment, falling branches...

I've seen some truly body-horror slasher-movie shit- just truly nauseating visual fuckery- and I'm telling you not to let your cat free-roam.

Leash training isn't hard. Supervised walks aren't hard. Even keeping your cat physically fit and entertained indoors isn't an impossible feat. Don't let your fucking cat fucking free-roam. Fuck

Also read up on foods and plants cats can't do, like every houseplant in existence is toxic it's insane

Anyhow yeah that's like. A couple things I guess

Here, have an Ollie Pic

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Monster x Reader Headcanons

You find yourself kidnapped into a half-breed family of monsters and humans, for the purpose of an arranged marriage. Luckily for you, the groom is their only pure human, terribly handsome and charming. You'd perhaps appreciate him more if your eyes weren't glued to his monstrous older sibling...

Content: female reader, monster smut, reader is a shameless monster hoe

[Part 2]

You always imagined such kidnappings to be of theatrical intensity, being scooped up against your will as you scream and flail your arms, longing for a savior. The affair itself felt more like a formal summoning. Mysterious men appeared before you and merely announced that your presence is required, unfortunately without the choice of refusal. Might as well. You packed necessities under their polite supervision and now you're sitting at the table, facing multiple strangers who are casually enjoying their lunch. One of them, the head of the family apparently, explains that half-breeds are in a rather sensitive place when one considers human and monster politics. Thus, every now and then, they will do whatever it takes to strengthen their bonds and show good intent towards both species. This time it's an arranged marriage with a fellow human.

Why you, in particular? No need to concern yourself with intricate details. What matters now is that you are to be married soon and your groom is right here, enthusiastically waving in a welcoming greeting. You scan his features and can't help but agree with the family: he is, by all definitions, a conventionally handsome man. His face is carefully chiseled in most elegant, yet masculine features. His voice is confident but warm, and you can tell by the flock of servants hovering around that he's rather popular. After the luxurious meal he guides you around the imposing home, showing you to your room and briefing you on future responsibilities. Caring, attentive, and several other checks that you can easily mark in his favor.

Yet one vital aspect has been omitted. The prince's mesmerizing beauty was rather swiftly discarded once you realized the presence of his older sibling, a pure monster blood towering above everyone else and idly eating his food, uninterested. You managed to hide your blush in time, but you couldn't help throwing curious glances. Might've been easier for everyone involved if they handed out 'monster lover' badges. Alas, you weren't prepared to ever be faced with the choice.

The next day you're awoken by the murmur of diligent work, as both servants and family pace back and forth about their plans. You sneak your way out - since nothing is yet expected of you - and wander until you find your intended target: the beastly sibling is polishing a bizarre weapon you don't recognize in what seems to be a storage room littered with battle memorabilia. He notices your presence and acknowledges you with a bored nod. You ask whether you may observe his current activity and he looks up at you, raising an eyebrow suspiciously before agreeing. Why would you care? Certainly there's more entertaining things for you to do as a soon-to-be bride.

As you listen to his little stories from the battleground (hardy monsters like him are better off fighting, not socializing), you have to pat your cheeks in desperate attempts to cool down your burning blush. "H-how comes you don't have a partner?" You mutter, almost feverish. "Not interested. Plus, who would dare to marry me?" he jokes, focused on the sharp item in his clawed hands. There it is. Hesitation and diplomacy out the window, you rearrange yourself, smoothening your clothing, and whisper: "Well, if I had to choose, I would've preferred you as my husband..."

Once again he stares at you bewildered. Have you come here to mock him or something? A frail, pretty human like you, about to tie the knot with his stunning younger brother, showing up here and behind everyone's backs to openly flirt with him. Ridiculous beyond comprehension. His skin is thick enough to not mind such twisted humor, so if anything he's impressed by your audacity. Alright, if you've come for jokes, he'll comply. He places his weapon down and fully turns to you. A little scare might teach you to be more respectful with your in-laws next time.

With a speedy movement that's barely registered by your eyes, he pushes you on the floor and pins you by the wrists, lowering himself uncomfortably close to your face. "If you tease me like this, I might not be able to hold back." He says as he forces himself to smile extra hard, revealing the multiple rows of fangs. "In fact, I can't guarantee you'd make it out of here alive." Hopefully he isn't going too far with his tactics. He senses your frantic breathing and is about to apologize for continuing your prank, but you blurt out in a daze: "Yes, please! I've been thinking about it ever since I saw you." You're panting for dear life as your face is turning a deep shade of red.

Uh oh. Now this is awkward. You weren't...you weren't kidding. For a moment, he freezes in place, trying to recollect himself to no avail. Fucking your brother's future wife in a storage room in the middle of the day feels like poorly written erotic romance. Then again, he can't deny the sudden urge overwhelming him at the mere thought of it. You're squirming underneath him, gliding your legs across his now obvious bulge. His common sense is hanging by a comically thin thread and he can almost hear the instant when it snaps. Thankfully some leftovers of sanity must have remained in the back of his mind and his lustful grunts while pounding you are kept low enough that no one is notified of your horny deeds. Shutting you up was the bigger challenge.

"Is this too tight, miss?" You spin in front of the mirror and the servant readjusts the lace corset adorning your wedding dress. You have to hold back your yawn. Downright shameless and perverted of you to daydream about your monster boyfriend while trying on bridal gowns, but it's not like you agreed to it to begin with. You were kind of hoping to discuss future dating prospects post-intercourse, but someone had been looking for you shortly afterwards and you struggled to regain your composure. Your scary-looking suitor shooed you away with the promise of a reunion.

Before the servant can reach for the next dress, you both jump, startled by angry shouts coming from the hall. You rush outside to witness the older sibling standing before the head of the family. The wrathful threats were coming from the much smaller half-human. "Y-you can't just decide like that!" He screams. "Of course I can. You're welcome to fight me for it." The monster sibling flashes a smug grin. "Can anyone here defeat me?" His question is met with silence. He spots you and gestures you to come towards him. "I'll say it one more time. Find another human for my brother if you have to. This one is mine." He ends his sentence in a low growl and you shiver underneath his heavy arm. Boy, what a time to be alive.

[sunflowerwinds]

sugar, sugar | v.a

summary: on a slow day at your grandmother’s bakery, a customer captures your attention. as the weeks pass, you see her pop up more and more. a gentle friendship ignites between the two of you. the only issue was the undeniable attraction to her and it didn’t help now having to do her a kind favor. it would go away…. right?

pairing: fem!reader x vi arcane

contains: modern!au, kick-boxer!vi, reader is described to have long enough hair to tie up, reader has a sister named mila, we love gram, vander, isha and jinx mentions <3, nothing but fluff, strangers to friends to lovers:)

word count: 3.5K

a/n: i seriously had so much fun writing this and i am excited to dig into a mini-series with vi. i hope everyone enjoys this as much as i do </3

— ONE

Running your grandmother’s bakery wasn’t easy but it was a light in your life. She taught you tips and tricks of working the large industrial oven, every single one of her recipes, and wiping down the chalkboard to write the specials for the delicious treats.

She was charm personified; somehow able to convince pretty much every person that walked to the pastry shop to try at least one item. You were on the more quiet side, not insanely secluded but you weren’t extroverted. Nice people cracked you open and next thing you knew it, you were shoving a donut into their palms to take home.

It was a bad habit.

It was a slow Thursday in November. You were sweeping the small area of seating, softly asking one of the usual college students that came if they needed anything else. You were just a few streets down from the community college so many people your age would come in for coffee and furiously type on their laptops.

Once you were told they were good for now, you excuse yourself back to behind the counter to adjust the display desserts. You were bent over when you heard the bell over the door echo within the space, shouting ‘welcome in’.

“If you have any questions, just let me know. We have a daily special which is on the blackboard,” you stood back up with a slight grunt from the rush, brushing a few flyaways to kindly smile at the new customer. “Today we have buy one, get one donut free.”

Your eyes slightly widen at the… attractiveness of the customer. You adjust the neckline of your soft brown cable knit sweater to tug out your necklaces, plastering on a friendly smile.

“I actually came in because I was curious about the sign,” she trails off, tilting her head as she shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Do you actually just let people smell the food?”

You let out a soft chuckle as you nod. Your grandfather, one of the only men who had ever tolerated, made the sign for your grandmother the second she mentioned it to him. Now, in all its carved glory ‘Free Smells!’ is hanging underneath the shop's main sign: Sweet Tooth Bakery + Cafe.

“Yeah, my grandma thought it’d be a funny sign to draw people in. Obviously, we don’t let them shove their nose into it or anything,” you shake your head, holding your hand out to the stranger. “Because that’s… unsanitary.”

The pink haired stranger nods with a soft chuckle, stepping back to check out the arrangement of treats in the display case. In that moment of silence, you, as discreetly as possible, check her out. She had on a navy blue cut off sleeve zip-up, a soft white tank top underneath and a pair of grey sweatpants hugging her lower half. Very simplistic outfit but she made it look good.

You think she just naturally looked good. If you stared for long enough, which you embarrassingly did so, you could see markings of ink on the side of her neck and following down the backs of her arms and the smallest etching on her cheek.

“Any suggestions on what to smell first?” She questions, curious eyes bouncing back up to you.

You hum to yourself as you, too, stagger your eyes from pastry to pastry to carefully choose which one you could have her smell.

“Are you a fan of blueberries?” You question with a beaming grin.

“Uh, sure, yeah. Blueberries are good.”

“Then you have to take a whiff of the blueberry danish. It’s one of my favorites.” You offer, pointing to the sweet treat.

The pink haired stranger leans forward, folding her bare arms across her chest. You, again, can’t help your stares as you try to figure out what was exactly dotted into her pale skin. She nods with a shrug, looking at you with a kind smile.

“I’ll give it a whiff, yeah,” she stepped forward so that the glass of the display case was the only obstacle between the two of you.

You can feel your face getting hot as you mutter a bright ‘okay’ to yourself. You bend over once again grab the metal tongs to pick out the danish to place on a ceramic plate. You place it on top of the display case, motioning for the stranger to give it a smell.

Still seeming a bit hesitant that you were playing a joke on her, she leans her face forward so that she is mere centimeters away from the pastry. She inhales a bit, letting out a long sigh as she leans back to look at you.

“Shit, that smells amazing,” she praises the sweet aroma, nodding in satisfaction. “I’ll take it.”

You blink at her before chuckling awkwardly.

“You don’t have to buy the ones you smell. I promise.” You reassure her as you attempt to put the danish back so that you can shove the cranberry-orange muffin in her face.

She’s quick to hold a palm out to stop you, shaking her head. A beautiful smile spreads on her lips, temporarily forgetting how eager you were to show her every single pastry on display.

“I want that one. I swear. Plus, my sister’s going to rush me out of here if I take too long.”

A part of you was disappointed that she was so quick to purchase the first, yet incredibly delicious, treat. You selfishly wanted her to stay for as long as possible. Your grandmother would be on your ass for being so distracted by an attractive customer.

She would give you a clap on the back for making a sale, though.

“Oh, okay. Did your sister want anything?” You offer, itching to find any way possible for her to stay just a bit longer.

The stranger hums to herself for a moment as she examines the rest of the delicious treats. You tilt your head as you grab a small brown paper bag to place the danish into, waiting patiently to see if she was going to pick another item.

To your delighted surprise, she nods as she points to a more simplistic pastry.

“I think this pink donut should be good,” she nods to show certainty.

You grasp onto the sweet treat to slide it into the bag with her danish, trying not to spill a lot of the sprinkles. You seal it closed with a custom sticker with the logo of the shop, typing up her total into the register. The stranger reaches into her sweatpants pocket to pull out her wallet.

“Your total is gonna be $7.89. Cash or card?” You question.

“Card.”

You watch her hand you a simple light blue credit card, grinning as you not-so-discreetly check out her full name on it. Her first name caught your attention. Violet. As you swipe her card, you clear your throat to work up the courage to give her a compliment.

“I love your name. It’s pretty,” you say as you hand her back the card.

The stranger, now known as Violet, smiles small at your words. Her long fingers take the card from you as she slides it back into her wallet.

“Thank you. My, uh, dad named me,” she grins at you.

“Well, he made a very good choice,” you hand her the bag as well, nodding as you try not to appear awkward. “Anything else I can get for you?”

Were you being weird?

“No, no, I’m good,” she chuckles as she crinkles the bag in her palms. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

You nod as you hand her own copy of the receipt, holding onto the half second of the tip of her fingers brushing against yours. You watch her turn her back and leave the shop, eyes never leaving her sculpted back profile. You huff at your behavior once the bell from above the door snaps you out of your small trance, shoving your copy of the receipt into its designated spot.

“She’s cute,” you hear from behind you, causing you to jump and whip your head around.

You’re met with your grandma grinning evilly at you, a little bit of flour smudged on her cheek from her baking in the back.

“Gram,” you sigh as you shake your head, brushing away your loose hairs.

“I’m just saying, bug,” she walks up next to you to rub up and down your arm.

You blush at what she was insinuating. As much as you love your grandmother, she attempted to be your match maker like you were an introverted middle schooler. You were 22 for God's sake. You would make moves and flirt when you felt like it.

“Don’t you have something in the oven?” You raise your eyebrows at her, hoping she’d leave it alone.

“Hey. I could fire you, you know,” your grandma pointed a finger in your face accusingly but her tone was light and a cheeky grin was on her face.

You roll your eyes playfully as you softly bump your hip with hers.

Everyday since Violet came in, you perk at the sound of the bell hoping to see that head of pink hair waltzing in again. Two excruciatingly long weeks pass before you see Violet again.

What was disappointing about seeing her today of all days was that you were working this shift with your 17 year old sister who was… less than thrilled to be working now; especially with you being her superior in a workplace. She, like most teenagers, was yearning to be more independent which meant constantly disregarding your instructions on what to do at work.

You were irritated beyond belief with her constantly arguing with you. You couldn’t even really fully pay attention as Mila smacked your arm with the rag. When you saw her from outside the shop, this time around she came with company. You were in the midst of a bicker with her because she didn’t wipe down a table like you had told her to when you saw Violet coming in with a little girl walking beside her.

You gasp at her childish antics, pinching her arm but then shushing her as you tight-lipped smile at Violet as she approaches the familiar display case. You try not to frown at the sight of her bandaged nose and small bruise sitting right on the apple of her cheek. Her outfit is similar from the last time you saw her except a simple oil-black hoodie with those same joggers. You even saw a bit of wrapped bandages on her hands peeking out from the sleeves.

Was she jumped or something?

“There are only, like, two people here and they’re sitting outside,” your sister whisper-shouts at you, plastering on a fake smile at the new customers. “Hi! Welcome in.”

Violet glances at Mila when she straightens her back, placing a gentle hand on the back of the child’s back to guide her to the display of new and fresh treats for the day. She places her little hands on the glass as she very eagerly bounces on the soles of her worn in dark blue tennis shoes.

“Hi! Violet, you’re back.” You turn to your sister and sneer quietly. “Clean the tables. Now, please.”

Mila gives Violet a once-over and you a narrow glare as she grumbles a ‘fine’ as she rounds the corner to go and wipe down the crumb and dust filled tables.

“Hey. You can call me Vi, by the way. I, uh, was with my sister for the day and she wanted to try this place. I gave her some of my danish and she went crazy.” Violet motioned to the child just a few feet below her, chuckling at her gazing hungrily at the sweets.

“Well, Vi, I’m glad to hear,” you lean your head to the side to get a good look at her sister.

She had a wild head of short waves, a small gap in between her two front teeth. Her outfit made her ten times more adorable; a plain white Henley long sleeve with a pair of overalls. Her big hazel eyes stared at you patiently.

“Hi, cutie. Do you see one that you like?” You question her with a friendly smile.

Her adorable face scrunches up in thought, stepping back to look at her choices. She turns her head to her older sister before pointing at a strawberry muffin and raising her hands to sign what you believe is ASL. You curse yourself for not knowing what she was telling the pink haired stranger.

“She wants to smell the strawberry muffin,” Vi chuckles. “I told her about how you let me smell my danish first before buying it.”

“Okay, I can do that for you. What’s her name?” You question, hoping it didn’t come off as offensive.

“Isha. She doesn’t talk much,” Vi raised a bandaged hand to settle on her light brown waves on her head, ruffling the strands.

“Well, Miss Isha,” you focus your attention on her once again, watching her bounce on the balls on her feet with excitement. You grab your trusty metal tongs to grab the muffin and place it on a soft blue ceramic plate to set it down on the counter area of your register set-up for her to smell. “Here you go. Let me know if you want to smell anything else.”

Your heart grows tenfold as Vi quietly tells Isha to not shove her nose into the muffin, smiling at her sister as she hovers close to the pastry.

“Is she the one who ate the pink donut?” You turn your attention to Vi, raising your brows as you adjust your flyaways from your bubble braid.

Pretty blue eyes flickering to yours, her brows twitch as if she was shocked that you remembered such a minuscule detail.

“No, that was my other sister,” she shakes her head. “Isha was actually very angry with me when I came home with no cupcakes or muffins for her so I’m making it up to her.”

You watch her scrunch up her bruised bridge of her nose for a second as Isha signs something else to her. Vi playfully rolls her eyes with a sigh as she turns to you with another wince.

“Can she eat this now? She has an impatient appetite.”

You chuckle with a nod as you hand the plate to her, muttering a ‘careful, sweetie’ to Isha who beams up at you. She scurries over to a small round table to hop up on the seat to divulge. Now that it was just you and Vi standing in front of each other.

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask softly, eyes flicking to each injury on her gorgeous face.

Confused about your concern for her, her brows furrow for a moment. You watch her turn around to make sure Isha was all good, hounding down the muffin with crumbs falling from her mouth to the ground.

“Oh, yeah,” Vi shook her head, waving at you off as she grins sweetly. “I work at a kick-boxing studio and some of the kids can get aggressive. I’m okay, though, trust me. I’ve taken more than a few hits to the head.”

That explains the injuries and the bandaged hands. Of course, she was a kick-boxer. Her physique gave that away but what did you know? Isha was distracted with her muffin so you were able to converse with her, get to know her a little more so your gram would stop asking you if that cute pink haired girl came in again.

“Really? Where at?” You hum.

“It’s like fifteen minutes from here. Why? You want to come see kids beat me up?” She teases, folding her arms over her chest.

You hum with a nod, walking around the counter to place a napkin on the table so Isha could wipe her face to be rid of the sticky crumbs on her face. “Yeah, that’s exactly why. Because I’m a masochist.”

An actual laugh left her plush lips as she shook her head, eyes following you as you face her now. If Gram could see you now. Well, she was probably watching you from the security cameras in the back room with an evil smile.

“You know, I meant to ask. Do you make custom cakes?” Vi leans back to rest her lower back on the countertop where your register was, crossing her legs and shoving her hands into the pocket of her hoodie.

She really just looks like that, you thought to yourself.

“We do, yeah. Is your birthday coming up?” You look at her with raised brows.

Vi shakes her head, pointing to the little girl behind you. “No. Her birthday is next week and my family is throwing her a zoo themed birthday party.”

You awe out loud at the thought.

“That’s so cute. Yeah, I can— I mean, we can do that,” you shake your head as you correct yourself, hoping she didn’t catch your desperate slip-up.

Isha stands up from her table, dusting off the crumbs from her overalls. She walks over to you to hand you the plate, signing ‘thank you’ to you. You pause for a moment before hesitantly signing back ‘you’re welcome’ slowly, not sure if you were doing it right. You knew the basics but weren’t extremely educated on ASL. After today, though, you were determined to brush up on it.

Isha eyes brighten at you signing back to her. She turns to Vi with a smile so wide, you swore her cheeks would split open. She nods down at Isha, ruffling her hair once again as she reaches for her pocket to retrieve her wallet.

“Shit, sorry, how much do I owe you for the muffin?” Vi shuffles through the bills in her wallet.

“No, no. You’re… good. Don’t worry about it.” You wave her off, shaking your head.

Vi pauses before scoffing, attempting to shove the money into your palms. “I’m paying for the muffin.”

“Seriously. It’s one muffin, Vi. Plus, a little early birthday present for Isha.” You shove the bills into her hands once again, gripping onto her hands to make sure she doesn’t try to give them back.

Vi glances down at your gentle hands around hers. Reluctantly taking the money back, she takes the bills before shoving them back into the crease of her wallet. You try not to focus on how slightly bigger her hands were from yours; how surprisingly soft her knuckles were.

Isha seems to become impatient now with her elder sister, reaching up to tug on two of her fingers. Vi nods down to her, muttering a soft ‘okay, okay’.

“Thank you for that, by the way. And if it's not too much trouble for you, cupcake, can I get your number?” Vi questions as she takes Isha’s hand in hers. “You know, for any questions about what the cake should look like and what flavor it could be.”

Your brows furrow at her words before nodding, pursing your lips to repress the smile creeping onto your face. Cupcake. You like that nickname coming from her lips.

“Right! Yes, um,” you walk over to the counter to grab a sticky note and a pen to scribble down your personal number. “Here. Call or text me with all the information.”

You place the small yellow piece of paper into her palm that wasn’t holding Isha’s. She takes it in between her pointer and middle fingers, nodding with a confident smile.

“I will. See you, cupcake.”

“See you, Vi. Bye, sweetheart,” you bend down ever so slightly to wave at Isha.

The adorable girl waves her free hand at you with a just as cute toothy smile on her face. You excused it as a sugar rush as they walk away from you, hand in hand as they leave the store. Vi turns her head to give you one more glance before Isha is tugging her down the sidewalk.

Mila angrily stormed up to you the second they left and raised her hand with the rag to smack you on the forearm. You gasp and snatch the weapon away from her, pointing a finger in her face.

“What the hell? Stop hitting me with this,” you sneer.

“I’m wiping down tables and you’re flirting? How the hell is that fair?” Mila quips back as she folds her arms in front of her chest.

“I wasn’t flirting. I was taking a cake order, by the way, so you can stop whining.” You roll your eyes as you walk back around to the counter.

Mila sucks in a deep breath before shaking her head.

“Really? So what was that whole,” your sister cleared her throat, sucking in a deep breath. “Giving her your personal number when you could’ve just given her the store's number?”

You pause your movements of wiping down the counter from behind the register, thinking about it for a moment. You knew why. You just hated your sister being all in your business.

“Okay, what is it to you?” You get defensive. “I can’t… make new friends?”

Mila merely snorts before rolling her eyes.

“Sure. You definitely only want to be friends with her.”

TAGLIST: @strawberrykidneystone @lovinglynny @kylorey25

[silveeja]

ミ☆ Astro Notes!

some basic astrology notes based on personal experience and opinions

i'm not a professional astrologer, this is just for fun~

let me know if you guys think differently/have different experiences, or if you relate to any of these, i'm curious to know what everyone else thinks! :3

random natal observations;

✩ scorpio risings do have an intense, penetrating gaze, but i noticed it's not just risings but ANY scorpio placement has it. i know someone who's chart is mainly air, but their venus is in scorpio and whewww those intense EYES!! (also the amount of scorpio placements i've seen say they're too shy for eye contact??? ya'll don't know the power that you hold! use it! hehe)

✩ speaking of scorpio placements, i would never want to fight with a scorpio mercury, those people will break you with their words if pushed far enough. their words will cut you deep, they know exactly what to say to hurt someone.

✩ pls stop saying aquarians (especially moons) are emotionless and don't care about anything. they can be like this if they choose to, that's their superpower, they can detach themselves from people and situations and emotions at will, but it doesn't mean they're emotionless or like robots, if anything their emotions run too deep sometimes and it all gets overwhelming, to the point where they need to take a step back. once you're close to an aquarian though, they'll open up, trust.

✩ also once an aquarius is done, they're done. they give many chances and are generous, but once they decide to leave, a switch happens and the warm, friendly person is gone. it's true that they are masters at ghosting and detaching, but if they do so, it's always for a reason.

✩ something i've noticed with leo moons (especially if they have scorpio sun or other scorpio placements) is they tend to be a bit selfish, idk if its subconscious or not. they care a lot about their own feelings, but dismiss other people's feelings and have a 'it's not that deep' attitude when they do something that hurts others. I've noticed this with 3 different scorpio sun/leo moon people.

✩ if astrology isn't real then why do sagittarius placements speak before they think??? lol it's kinda funny seeing their faces when they realise they just said something outrageous.

✩ people with venus in their 5th, please stop flirting with everything that has a pulse are ya'll not tired??? (teach me your rizz ways).

✩ i'm calling ya'll out, but cancer moons, please stop playing the victim in situations you created! just take responsibility and move on, no need to play the blaming, crying game. i believe in you! :)

✩ i've noticed pisces mercury people have sweet, soft voices but they tend to mess up when they talk a lot? like stuttering, forgetting what word they wanted to say, mispronouncing words. i guess it's the neptunian energy messing with mercury? anyone else notice it or just me?

✩ my mom is a scorpio mars and she refused to enter a shop where a lady she had beef with 30 years ago works saying "i don't fuck with her" LMFAO the scorpio placements (especially mars) and the grudge holding stereotype is realllll

✩ someone having juno/venus in their 11th house really likes the idea of friends to lovers type of romance! the types to want their lover also be their best friend. ♡

✩ to those who have mars square pluto, it gets better, i promise. you will heal, and the darkness won't last forever. remember that you hold a lot of power within you!

✩ harsh aspects to the MC, especially with sun/moon/mars, can definitely indicate a delay when it comes to finding a career, holding down a job, deciding what you want to do in life. remember that life isn't a race or a competition, even if it seems this way in this society, do it all at your own pace. it's your life, after all!

random synastry observations;

✩ not really an observation but i find it hilarious how some people are obsessed with the 8th house especially synastry, when it's the house that rules obsession lol the irony.

✩ personally, i've had 8th house synastry quite a lot, and i noticed that i prefer being the planet person, when i'm house i feel the 8th house energy way more to the point where it can become too overwhelming, when i'm the planet i feel it but not as intensely. so in my experience, the house person is the one who's more obsessed/attached/repulsed.

✩ someone's ascendant falling into another's 8th house will make the 8th house person feel intimidated/scared of the ascendant even if there's no reason to be.

✩ a family member's chiron falling in someone's 4th house can indicate deep wounds when it comes to family/childhood, the chiron person either created the wounds or triggers them for the house person. :/

✩ on a lighter note, someone's venus in another's 1st house! how sweet! i noticed it doesn't even have to be conjunct to the ascendant (although it definitely helps if it is), the attraction/appreciation is still definitely there! the venus person loves the 1st house and how they look and present themselves, if romantic, i picture the gif of a cartoon character with heart eyes popping out when they look at the 1st house person!

✩ 12th house synastry really does feel foggy, more so for the planet person, you never actually know what the house truly thinks of you, when you're together it can feel awesome and like such a close bond, but when apart suddenly doubts start to come in, like "do they really like me?" or "are we actually close or am i being delusional and imagining it?" and "what if it's one sided and only i'm feeling this way, and the house doesn't even care?" it can be a real mindfuck fr.

✩ someone's mars falling in another's 3rd house and/or conjunct their mercury can show the two people love talking to each other and have the most engaging and diverse conversations, the types to just stay up all night and talk about 100s of different topics! if badly aspected though it can lead to heated debates and arguments, especially the mars person being more argumentative and aggressive in their approach.

✩ venus conjunct someone's chiron is super nice to have, the venus person soothes the chiron person and helps them heal whatever wounds they are carrying! very supportive and sweet bond.

✩ in friendships/family, moon conjunct mars can feel abrasive for the moon person, the mars person being too aggressive/harsh for the moon even if they don't mean it and it's subconscious, the moon tends to take mars' words and actions to heart.

✩ in romantic relationships though, i personally found it works really well, the bond they have is amazing and the mars person tends to be very protective and loyal when it comes to the moon, it's a fiery aspect so when they fight they fight hard, but when they love, it burns in the best way possible!

✩ 6th house synastry really doesn't get enough attention and a lot of people tend to gloss over it, but it's so cute! it's definitely an acts of service and quality time type of vibe between two people, they just love hanging out with each other even if they're not doing anything in particular, or they love helping each other out with different things. it gives cooking/baking together, having movie marathons with a bunch of snacks and blankets, napping together, going for late night walks/drives just bc, one person is reading and the other is watching tiktoks while enjoying the comfortable silence.

these are some of my basic observations, feel free to agree/disagree with me! i hope ya'll have a nice day! ♡

[chaoticwriting]

Fenton Crime Family

-Wayne Manor, Gotham-

Stephanie: So no one is gonna ask why Cass has been out so much lately? Alone too.

Duke: Didn't she say she is going out to meet a friend?

Stephanie: Yeah, but no one knows where she goes. We don't know who she goes out with nor do we know where she goes.

Tim: Just say that you are jealous that Cass is going out without you. No will make fun of you.

Jason & Duke: That's a lie.

Tim: Yeah, that's a lie. I would totally make fun of you.

Stephanie: Shut up nerd. Don't pretend you are not jealous when Bernard or Conner says that they are hanging out with someone else.

Tim: Woah there. Jason is the nerd one. If you want to insult me, at least use the correct one.

Jason: I want to be mad but you're not wrong.

Damian: Tt, why should we bother who Cain goes out with? It is her choice who she wishes to be her companion.

Stephanie: But aren't you curious even a little bit? Who is the person? Where do they go? Are they friends or something more? There are so many questions and yet so little answer.

Bruce: We should give Cass some room for herself. Letting her form a relationship outside of this household is also good.

Everyone: *Stares at Bruce*

Jason: I think the old man is being mind controlled. Let me punch him to wake him up.

Dick: Are you sick, B? Do you want to go to Dr. Leslie? I can take over your patrol tonight if you are not feeling well.

Damian: I also agree with Todd. Father might be compromised right now. Let's take him down.

Tim: Wait wait. Do you have anything to say before we jump you Bruce?

Bruce: *Grunts* I went to meet the therapist that Jason recommended to me. Dr. Fenton says that I should give my children room to grow independently so that I can take the first step in treating my paranoia.

Jason: *Gasp* You actually went to meet the therapist. Fuck.

Stephanie: He he he, where is my 50 bucks? I told you he would go if you recommend it.

Jason: *Grumble while handing out 50 bucks*

Duke: So that's where you are going. I thought you were going on a date.

Bruce: I am too old for dating anymore.

Dick: Yeah, right. Tell that to me when you go meet Selina later tonight.

Bruce: *Grunts*

Alfred: *Walks in* I am here to inform that Miss Cassandra has returned.

Dick: She's not gonna eat lunch?

Alfred: Miss Cassandra has informed me that she has eaten outside with her friend.

Jason: Did you see who her friend is? Is it a boy or a girl? Please tell me it's a boy.

Alfred: I'm afraid I cannot tell you anything as per my agreement with Miss Cassandra. What I can tell you though is that she is very happy to meet her friend. I suggest all of you don't disturb her happiness.

Stephanie: What? Boooo. I want answers. Timothy I choose you. Go find the answer using your stalker skills.

Tim: I would rather not anger her after what she did last time. All of my coffee mugs are still stuck on the table.

Duke: *Scoffs* You would probably go behind her back to find this friend anyway. You're just saying it in case Cass heard us.

Tim: I shall not confirm nor deny the accusation.

-Upstairs-

Cass lays on her bed after changing her clothes. It's been so long since she saw Danny. If not for the coincidental encounter at the stores, she wouldn't have known that Danny is in Gotham. After the first encounter, they exchanged phone numbers and talks and even met up often. Today is their first official date as a girlfriend/boyfriend.

Cass takes her phone to text Danny that she has reached home safely when she suddenly remembers something. She opens her gallery and puts the photos of her and Danny in a secure secret folder so that no one can find it.

While doing that, a text comes through.

Danny 💕💓💕

Danny: Hey Cass, are you home yet?

Cass: Yes. I just got home.

Danny: Thanks for the date today

Cass: 💖💖

Cass: Are you home yet?

Danny: Almost

Danny: Sorry gotta go. My sister is calling.

Cass: Get home fast. Love you 😘

Danny: I love you too 💖

Cass puts the phone on the bed and closes her eyes. Soon, she falls asleep and dreams of living in a large house with a lot of children running around.

-The Bowery, Gotham-

A young skinny man with black hair and blue eyes is walking down the quite alley slowly. He looks around him as the people of the Bowery look almost respectful but certainly fearful to him.

He sighs and leaves the sprawled bodies on the ground. They wouldn't die. He makes sure of that. A huge man comes within his proximity when suddenly the man bows down to him.

????: We are sorry, sir. These people are a new gang in the rise from the east. We get the news too late to send people to dispose of them.

Danny: Chill out, Jeff. Just take them to Dani and let her handle it. Also, tell her to return before dinner or else Jazz will come for her.

Jeff: Yes, sir.

The man along with a few of his henchmen pick the bodies and move them to somewhere else. To be honest, Jazz and Danny still don't know how to feel that their little sister is officially a crime lord.

All of them moved last month since Jazz gets her job at Arkham Asylum and Danny gets his internship at Wayne Enterprise. Dani tags along since she has explored all the places she wants to visit and she doesn't know what else to do.

Well that also didn't last long, as the first day they arrived at Gotham, Dani goes to beat up all the gang and goons in The Bowery and round them up into one single group. It's certainly easier that all the rouges are in Arkham right now.

One time the Falcon crime family tried to threaten Dani by taking Danny and Jazz hostage. In the end, Falcon and other crime families agree to stay out of The Bowery after Danny freezes all of their building and Dani strikes them with lightning multiple times.

Danny arrives home and sits on the couch. He scrolls Twitter while waiting for his sisters to return when the news catches his eyes.

Breakout at Arkham Asylum

All the people of Gotham are suggested to stay inside tonight.

Danny looks at the news with concern. Usually a breakout at Arkham happens a lot later in the day. He stands up, picks a leather jacket and a mask and then transforms into Phantom. He wears the mask and the jacket and flies towards Arkham Asylum to check out what happened. Today is Saturday so Jazz isn't working so he doesn't worry that much about Jazz.

On his way to Arkham, he encounters some rouge like The Riddler and Scarecrow. He knocks them out and hangs them on a poll and continues flying towards it. He's not a hero anymore but if the rogues are to enter and cause havoc in The Bowery, neither him, Jazz nor Ellie will be happy.

Suddenly, he sees a clown car speeding through the road at a very fast speed. Danny looks at it and sees the Joker along with his few goons are making a getaway while being chased down by a few cop cars. Danny flies down towards the clown car, and slowly unscrews the tyres of the car.

Danny flies back a little bit to the back and the clown car starts to wiggle and waggle and suddenly all of the tyres come off the car. Danny can hear the clown cursing heavily until finally they crash into a poll.He flies back down and just to make sure he is permanently down or at least down for some time, snap his back bone to incapacitate him.

Danny, still invisible, flies back up and continues on his way to Arkham. He meets a few more escapees like Mr. Freeze, Firefly and Killer Croc. Except for Killer Croc, all the other rouges are beaten up and sent back to Arkham. Killer Croc or Waylon is not thinking of causing trouble. He just wants to return to the sewer cause it is his home. Danny plans to maybe offer Waylon employment in their gang if he feels like Waylon is stable enough to work. Meanwhile, he will go around the city and beat up rogues that he is pretty sure is not going out to have a tea party.

When Danny lands on the roof, he opens his phone to see Cass is warning him to stay at home and not go outside. He smiles wryly since he is already outside and is beating up the rouges. Danny replies with a thumbs up and is about to continue flying when a shadow jumps out from behind him.

Danny: Uh, hello? How are you?

???: *Stares*

Danny: I'm no trouble. Just on the lookout just in case there is a rouge nearby. I see some guy beat up Scarecrow and The Riddler on my way here. They are not so scary when they don't have anything to use you know.

???: Where?

Danny: Errr, I think it is right over there. I was coming from that direction so you would probably see them if you go this way.

???: Thank you.

The shadow then vanishes and Danny is left standing there. The shadow really reminded him of Cass for some reason. Looking up online, apparently that one is called Black Bat.

Danny: Huh, they are out early today then. I guess they can work during the day.

Danny then turns invisible and returns back to the Bowery because most of the notorious rogues have been captured and Danny isn't worried about the rest.

Part 2

[risuola]

ENTRY #1 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I lay my dreams upon your feet, please be careful taking your steps.

contents: arranged marriage!au, angst-ish, slight age gap (reader's around 22, Satoru is 28), loveless marriage, brief mentions of blood and toxicity — wc. 1975

a/n: starting a new series while two other are hanging in the air and hundreds of wips are waiting for being written? yeah, that's me, but hey, I needed to start something new to get my creative juices flowin'. this one's gonna be a series of entries, a diary if you will.

series masterlist

When you were younger, a girl innocent and little, blissfully unaware of the world around you, you wished to marry a prince. Influenced by tales told by your mother and tv shows you watched with big and curious eyes, you had a vision of the ceremony straight out of a dream. A magical display of love and the path of rose petals and feathers through which you were meant to stride in a dress made of satin and lace – white and elegant. You also saw him, the man that your heart would choose and desire. A prince handsome and kind, who would love and protect you even if by doing so, his life would be on the line. You were too little to be aware of the naivety of the dreamy pictures in your head.

Sometimes you wished to turn back time and once again step into the shoes of the innocent you who never got to know sadness and fear. Sometimes you think of it with a bittersweet smile, reminiscing the way you used to go about your days without care about the world around. With mild regret you reminiscence the moment you learned that everything around you was–

“I’m talking to you. God damn it, are you deaf?”

“I heard you.”

–a lie.

You were a late bloomer but besides the judgmental looks you were receiving left and right from the elders of your clan, you also owe it the beauty of your prolonged childhood. Few years of freedom that you lost the memory of how it tasted and yet, you like to go back to it and drown in the pictures it left in your mind. Whilst all of your siblings were training and learning, fighting and risking their lives against the cursed spirits, you brought shame to your family. There was no place for someone without a cursed technique in a world of sorcery and you were made painfully aware of it at the day of your tenth birthday. That was also the end of your childhood and the day you wish to forget. You remember how the smiles of your parents turned into frowns and the soft, melodic tone of your mother became harsh and never got back to how it used to be. The tales and cookies vanished and what was left was nothing but suffering and degradation.

“Oh, did you?”

It took you six years of training to awaken the technique that later on was called the most powerful in the history of your clan. Six years of days and nights filled with sweat and tears, six years of bloody knuckles and bruises but also, it took six years of your determination to prove all of them wrong. Despite being the youngest of four siblings, you were able to stand against the worst of curses with nothing but a sword and raw power when everyone else relied heavily on the cursed techniques. You were strong and skilled, you were trained and fearless but still, you were looked down. A shame. To your family you were nothing but a shame.

And then, suddenly, you became a pride. You were on everyone’s mouths; you were talked about as if you were the most expensive and rare diamond. Years of harsh treatment you received suddenly became forgotten because once your technique awakened, you became the strongest in your clan, surpassing your siblings, your parents and everyone else who bore the same name as you. Suddenly other clans were talking about you too, with curiosity and fear. Suddenly, you became someone. But somehow, it didn’t make you happy. Once you realized that the world you were born into wasn’t a tale you always thought it is, you lost the ability to enjoy it. Maybe the pain of what you had given to become a true sorcerer rendered you unable to fully appreciate the adulthood, but you found it hard to see the light, when the darkness seemed to embed itself into your soul.

“You know what? Fuck that. I’m leaving.”

Ah yes, the marriage. With years that had passed since you were young and naïve, you stripped yourself of the dreams of sharing a life with a prince, but a part of you still hoped for love and calm. A part of your heart wished to settle with someone you’ll trust and care for. Someone who will ground you in the world of constant danger and for years you thought that you will find a man with whom the stressful life of sorcery will be a little kinder, a little less scary, a little more bearable. It was a child in you, a faint spark of juvenile carelessness that never died down, even in the darkest of days you endured.

You let out a deep sigh and allowed your lids to close. Your head leaned forward, forehead restless against the cold doors of the kitchen cabinet. The loud thud of doors snapping shut echoed in your ears for few moments and then it became silent. An earie cacophony of nothing but your own breath and soft ticking of the clock on the wall next to you. For a moment you thought about how many times you relived this very same situation already. The cold detachment, harsh exchange of words and then he’s gone. A salve of ruthless stabs that never seem to hurt less and the sound of your own voice forming sentences you wouldn’t think of if the circumstances were different.

First time you saw Satoru Gojo was many years before you truly knew who he is. It was a picture that you noticed by accident, somewhere in the papers your parents had spread out on the coffee table. He was a young boy back then. You remember the impression he made on you. He looked cold, intimidating, unapproachable. He looked like someone you’d never think of becoming friends with. You were young, just barely nine years old and he was already fifteen. He was already the strongest and even though you weren’t actively involved in the world of sorcery, you knew his name.

And then, many years later you sat in front of him. While the elders of your clans discussed the importance of the arrangement that was planned within the sorcerer’s society, Satoru was resting on a couch unamused, with his legs crossed and eyes covered by a layer of white bandages. You watched him, analyzed his lack of interest and the veil of cold arrogance with realization that everything you wished for was never on the table for you. During the two long hours of conversations that were about you and yet no one asked for your opinion, you and Satoru didn’t exchange one word.

You heard his voice actively directed at you for the first time during the wedding ceremony. It was small, very private and filled with people that you mostly didn’t know. It was far from perfect, though pretty in a way. Under the cautious watch of the most important figures of sorcery, you said the vows that made you feel nothing and yet meant so much. The words of promise, that for anyone else meant love and safe future, to you meant status and the name. You became Gojo. You became a wife to the strongest man in the world.

Now it’s seven months after the wedding and the day you and him moved together. The apartment you shared was filled with both yours and his belongings and yet it didn’t feel like home. It lacked the atmosphere of love and understanding and on days like this, you were losing hope it will ever feel different than miserable.

That day was nothing out of ordinary when it came to your marriage. Yet another fight, yet another beeline he made to leave you alone in the empty house. You always argue. There was no warmth between the walls of the apartment, there was no care and respect. Instead, there were snaps and insults, there was silence and avoidance. The large bed in what was meant to be a shared bedroom was occupied only by you, while Satoru preferred to sleep on a couch even though his tall frame was way too big for it. Besides one very brief and formal kiss you shared during the wedding day, you never kissed again. There was no holding hands, no incidental touches, no nothing that would convey any sort of feeling and only times your bodies made contact was when he grabbed your wrists in anger or when your shoulder hit his arm while you were passing by.

Truth is, you had no idea what Satoru was talking about that morning before he left. You were lost in thoughts, but you could only imagine he was mentioning the meeting he needed to attempt in the evening. He probably won’t be home until late and once he’ll come back, he’ll be annoyed by elders and for that, you couldn’t blame him. Whenever you face the elders of jujutsu community, your blood pressure raises as well and you’re quite calm by nature. That being said, if unlucky, you’ll be the one to take the hit of his anger.

Your fingers run across the golden band that adorned your finger. It was an absentminded motion that became a habit of sorts, helping you gather the thoughts, calming your mind. The cold feel of metal allowed you to let go of the stress and forced you to suck it up yet again.

Two hours after the morning fight, you found yourself surrounded by the familiar buildings in the Jujutsu tech area, watching your husband from afar. Satoru was in the middle of teaching students, if whatever the hell he was doing could be called teaching. Megumi was resting next to him as some other kids were fighting on the training field. The sound of wooden swords colliding echoed between the woods that surrounded the expanse of the school zones. Gojo was looking as careless as ever, calm and smiling – a sight that you almost never see unless he’s facing someone else. He was chatting with his almost-son, shouting some advice to the sparing students and going about his day as he usually does, but one thing was different.

 “Satoru,” you called his name as you went down the stairs to reach the spot where he was standing. He noticed you, you knew that. He most likely knew about your appearance way before you even got to see him, but now he chose to actively ignore your presence as his light blue eyes stayed focused on the field instead of landing on you.

“What brings you here?” He asked and you could tell how the tone of his voice changed from the friendly sensei to your husband’s rough approach. He wasn’t happy with your visit; you weren’t welcome near him and everyone knew that. The fact of your marriage being arranged wasn’t a secret and it also wasn’t a secret that it was Gojo’s clan decision, not his own. Satoru felt some sort of humiliation that despite him being the strongest, he was stripped of a choice who to spend his life with and you, as his wife, were paying for his resentment.

“I brought you this,” you replied, reaching your hand towards him. His eyes landed on your palm and you noticed a ghost of relief that washed over his features when he took the band of black fabric from your hold. His blindfold, that you realized was ripped – he left at home in the morning. That was most likely what he was talking to you about because once you cleaned up after the breakfast, you noticed the band and his broken glasses left on the coffee table.

“So you were listening,” Satoru said quietly and securely covered his eyes.

“I wasn’t.”

[haikyu-mp4]

it’s a rainy day at summer camp. one of the few evenings that greeted you with bad weather instead of the setting sun, and the result was Fukurodani’s volleyball team gathered around a small tv and taking turns in a Mario Kart tournament.

you walked into the room with an order from the coach to tell everyone to quiet down, and was intrigued by the choice of game and their lack of talent in it. “you guys suck.”

everyone who wasn't playing at the moment turned abruptly, some squinting suspiciously and some laughing. “think you could do better?”

and so you were thrown into the tournament, and oh boy did you knock them off their pedestals. they didn’t stand a chance.

it earned you almost everyone’s desserts from dinner the day after, and you happily munched on pudding cup after pudding cup while they pouted about it. you shared plenty of them with the other girls as well, and you all enjoyed their defeat thoroughly.

fast forward one year later, Bokuto has made friends with Nekoma’s captain, making Fukurodani and Nekoma closer than they were with the other teams.

when Bokuto is particularly annoyed with Kuroo’s taunting after he missed some spikes in a practice game, he challenges him to a round of Mario Kart after dinner. Fukurodani vs Nekoma, choose your fighter style.

Kuroo walks into Fukurodani’s room that evening, carrying Kenma along while the setter is still playing on his console and not even paying attention. the captain looks smug, confident in his best friend’s ability to win. until he sees Bokuto standing with his arms crossed and shielding their chosen fighter.

a couple of the others from Nekoma’s team had joined, curious as to why Bokuto would challenge them in video games when he knew Kenma was there. “why do you look so smug?” Kuroo asks suspiciously.

“because we brought our secret weapon,” he answered, dramatically moving to the side and gesturing towards you. you sat patiently on a pillow, waving at the other team and smiling brightly.

“hi, guys!”

Kuroo laughed, letting go of Kenma and waving back at you. “y/n, fancy seeing you here.”

Bokuto rudely pressed his hand into Kuroo’s face. “none of that, don’t distract our player before the match!”

and while they fought, Kenma sat down beside you, finally turning off his console as you held out the other controller for him. “making me second player, hm?” you laughed at his remark, nodding.

“home base is always first player,” you teased. Konoha patted you on the back and smirked at Kenma.

“you don’t stand a chance.”

he did stand a chance. it was a close race, and you must admit you broke a sweat using every little trick you could think of.

however, it was just a chance. one he didn’t master, and you ended up with a clear victory after a mystery box gifted you with three glorious red shells on the second round, ruining any head start he might have gained.

the whole of Fukurodani’s team got up and cheered, many shaking your shoulders or ruffling your hair to praise your efforts. you looked to the side, ready to taunt Kenma a bit, but he was already staring at you. his catlike eyes made you flustered, and you quickly looked away. “I’m going to bed. good game, Kenma!”

Kenma watched the highlight reel after you left, and Kuroo had to practically drag him out of there as he could barely accept his loss. red shells don’t always mean you win. how you use them matters, and you use them perfectly. the way you drifted as well was beyond any technique he had seen before in real life.

the day after, Kenma comes over to you table with his dessert as a peace offering, and sits down across from you with his head down. “so you’re a gamer, what else do you play?”

“not really a gamer, my cousin just always brought Mario Kart for family holidays.”

Kenma stared at the table for two minutes in silence as you continued eating your lunch and chatting with your team’s other managers until he finally broke out of his trance. “can you teach me?”

“sure, catboy.” you were already eating the pudding cup, giving him a teasing wink now that he seemed so shy. this was the start of a blooming friendship.

masterlist

/when me n @cottonlemonade start brainstorming, great things happen

/this is a drabble in my head but it’s way too long for that… also, what do you think nekoma owes fukurodani after losing??

[0mg-bird]

Sunrise~ Tyler Owens x Fem! Reader

Summary: The curious case of the tornado wranglers, down to earth, girlfriend.

A/n: I just watched Twisters and am in love. Right now Sunrise by Ryan Bingham is my favorite song so here’s a little one shot inspired by it.

Warnings: Language, implied smut

Everyone’s called you crazy ever since you were born. The people in your small Texas town said you were the wild child, your parents had four boys and when their baby girl came around, she had a mean streak just like her brothers. Ten years old and standing in an empty corn field, looking at the thunder heads forming above you, hot and muggy air gusting against your skin, the crack of thunder didn’t scare you, you were utterly curious and amazed. You’ve known storms since you were a babe, you remember the shrill sound of the sirens going off and your mama screaming for you to come inside. Your family was in a panic, you remember your daddy letting the horses loose and the way the cattle ran. That funnel touched down and prayers were prayed, you watched from the bathroom window despite the way your mama dragged you away.

It was beautiful, so utterly terrifying in the distance, a force of straight power.

You were hooked.

Telling your parents you were going to the University of Arkansas to study meteorology was a good idea in theory until they told you becoming a weather girl was a sweet job.

You told them about storm chasing and your mama almost had a stroke.

But you’ve worried everyone your whole life, only you would choose something so crazy.

You met Tyler your sophomore year when you had the same class, your energetic personality hid the fact you were a nerdy kind of cowgirl. The two of you quickly became best friends, despite his cocky personality. You formed a dare devil connection, you were the call he made when he got a lead on something.

Graduation came and you said you were going back home, he hated that idea.

“Come with me.” He said.

“Where?”

“Anywhere, everywhere.”

It’s hard to say no to a man with puppy dog eyes.

Somewhere between gathering a crew up from all over the boons and adopting a one eyed dog you found stranded after a storm in Little Rock, the two of you fell so deep for each other, it hit harder than any storm you experienced.

Here you are now in Oklahoma, cutting through fields in Tyler’s red Ram truck. “Lilly, talk to me.” You call over the radio system on the dash, looking for what data the girl in the vehicle following has. In the backseat, Boone, the right hand man, is recording like always, talking to the followers.

“Welcome back guys, we’re currently back at it again in the Oklahoma plains. This beauty we’re going into is gaining speed, turning into something good. What are we thinking, Tex?”

You look to the camera and smile. “You know, I’d like to call this an easy F2 but the strong updraft we’re getting here could push this baby into the F3 category.”

Also from the back seat, Ben, the London journalist asks to explain what you just said.

The rain cap starts and muddies the earth, the truck drifts as Tyler maneuvers it greatly. You pull your sunglasses off and lean forward to get a better look at what you’re driving into.

“What are you thinking, darlin’?” Tyler asks, seeing the way you evaluate the area.

“Take a left, it ain’t gonna hit the tree line, see the way the wind shifted?” You instruct.

“Yes ma’am.” He nods, giving you one of his perfect grins before making a sharp left.

Ben makes a sort of strangled cry of fear as he gets tossed around in the back. You, completely nonchalant, chewing on a Red Vine, turn to look at the Brit.

“Ben, baby, how you feeling back there?” You ask, pointing something else out to Tyler.

“Oh I’m bloody great.” He lies before getting knocked into the door again. You laugh. “Man, I love this guy.” You declare, finding him so amusing. “Let’s keep him, Ty.”

He rolls his eyes at you, making you scoff. You look at the dog in your lap who’s wearing a tiny helmet with the words ‘Killa’ written across the front. “What you think, Rocky? You wanna keep Ben?”

The dog lays his head down and places his paw over his small snout.

“Rude. Ty, Rock used to agree to everything I say, now you’ve done gone and brain washed him. Poor fella.” You pout before yelping in surprise at the way Tyler drifts into a spot. He grips the radio, calling for the convoy to assume their positions.

“Sorry, I’m no expert but it looks like the twister is going to roll right over us.” Ben says as everyone buckles their harnesses.

“You’re exactly right Benny boy.” You say, opening the center console and placing Rocky inside his designated safety seat. “We need to be in its path so the data bugs we’ll launch have enough wind speed to reach the height needed. Put your harness on and you’ll be about as secure as a pistol in a PTA Mama’s purse.”

Ben looks to Boone in question. Boone just shrugs. “At some point you get used to all the odd shit she says.”

Tyler cranks the E brake, then looks at you with a smirk. “You wanna touch my joystick?” He ask, motioning to the control stick that has the button to activate the drills that will anchor the truck into the ground.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” You scrunch your nose, pushing the button.

The truck is secured, you’re all buckled in tight, now you have to focus on when it’s the perfect time to launch the processors. Things are blowing against the windows, Tyler’s laughing and Boone is howling into the camera, showing the viewers what they see.

“Tell me when.” Tyler says, and as thick water drops pummel the windshield, you stay silent, waiting…watching.

“Now!” You shout and he presses the button that activates the hydraulic opening lid to the tub in the truck bed, the small bug sensors fly out and are carried up into the funnel that is passing over you.

“Breaker breaker, what are we seeing?” You call into the radio, Dexter in the caravan off in the clearing responds. “We got eyes, Tex. Data is coming in clear.”

You shoot your arms up in victory, this was the first time you were launching the 2.0 sensors. “There we go!” You look directly into the camera Boone is pointing at you. “You see that kids? I still got it.”

You watch the storm pass you, the funnel goes into the distance and the winds calm a bit as you unbuckle your harness. You’re pulling the pup from its safety and throwing open the door, running to the spot it just was.

“Whoo!” You hear Tyler whoop, and you throw that snapback hat of his you were wearing, adrenaline pumping through you. He sweeps you into his large arms, twirling you around. “Did you see that, baby? God, that was beautiful.” He laughs and you pull on the brim of his cowboy hat. “I sure did, let’s go get those bugs before we lose their signals, cowboy.”

Later as you set up camp in some cheap motel, Ben is approaching Lilly and Boone with questions.

“I need a story about the girl, uh Tex? Does she have a name?” He settles into one of the fold out chairs and motions to you sitting on the roof of the truck, looking up at the stars and listening to the music playing on the radio.

Lilly chuckles and then makes an adjustment to her drone. “She does, but she’d kill you if she found out you was using her government name in your fancy paper.”

Ben finds that interesting, he writes a few notes about a very mysterious persona you have. “How long has she been in this business? I tried to ask her some questions but she shushed me and told me she was ‘meditating to a Childers song’ and it was very important that she did this.”

Boone shakes his head. “She says confusing stuff to make people go away when she wants her peace.” He explains. “Tex is the original, her and T were the ones to assemble the squad of us, they taught me everything I know. She might be crazier than he is if I’m bein’ honest, always pushing the limits but every move she makes is calculated.”

Lilly agrees. “She’s my best friend, but has always been a curious case. She comes from Texas, hence the nickname and the accent that gets too thick when she’s drunk. Mama wanted her to be this Southern belle but she turned out to be a real wrangler. She’s the smartest person I know, but has a very relaxed way about her.”

“Who?” Dexter asks as he passes by.

“Tex.” They answer.

He shakes his head. “That girl’s a tree hugging loon.”

Ben quickly comes to know the dynamic of you and Tyler. There is no home but each other, you make the best of every situation because you are together. Two pairs of cowboy boots and wide eyes, that’s what you two are.

“I’d compare her to like…a coyote.” Lilly determines. “She’s the perfect balance of wisdom and foolishness, always willing to make light of situations. One time, we were tracking a desert storm in New Mexico and we were camping in our trucks, it was hot, all our leads were gone and we’re ready to turn back. The sunrise comes and it’s prettiest thing I ever seen, we wake up to just a color spill of orange and pink. We open our doors up and Tex is out there dancing in a sports bra and boxers.”

Boone leans back in his chair, laughing at the memory. “Man, we thought she finally lost it, that being with Tyler for so long finally made her go off the rails. T is standing there, watching her, asking what the hell she was doing and she claims she was doing a rain dance.” He says, making Ben chuckle to himself.

Lilly lights a cigarette and rolls her eyes. “She was out there shaking her ass.”

“You fucking joined her!” Boone argues, taking the cigarette from her.

“Well yeah, you don’t let your best friend dance alone. And what happened that day? The rain came and the biggest thunderheads I had ever seen blew in. The lightning was beautiful, Ben, you shoulda been there.”

New Mexico rain was a memory you thought of often, it just felt a little fresher. Blame it on the heat you were dying of or the thirsty land you stood on, but you stood out in it, getting soaked to the bone and then fell into Tyler’s arms.

Now, far away in Oklahoma, Tyler stands looking up at you soaking in the moonlight. “Come down from there.” He calls. You lean over the edge of the roof and look at him. “Why don’t you come up here?” You challenge.

Tyler shakes his head. “I’m tired, darlin’. Let me take you inside.”

You look back up at the stars, then slide from the top of the truck, making him reach out and catch you. “Alright, take me to bed you old man.”

He shakes his head at your comment. It’s hard to resist anymore, you just looked so gorgeous underneath the moonlight. He leans to kiss you, nothing too deep but still of passion because he loves tasting the sugar of your lips, you were always so sweet that it made his head cloudy.

Arm around your shoulders, yours around his waist, the two of you say goodnight to your friends and head to your motel room, Rocky trotting after you. The lock on the door is hard to budge open, the room has a sort of stale smell.

As Tyler is distracted by setting up a bed for the dog, you grab your things from your duffel. “Dibs in the bathroom.” You shout before making a run for it. Tyler groans and tries to beat you, but you stand in the doorway, sticking your tongue out at him. “You just gotta be faster.” You tease before shutting the door in his face.

The low bulb light casts a hazy orange glow to everything, you start the shower and find it to have weak water pressure. Your clothes make a pile on the floor and soon the air steams up.

Your muscles relax as you wash off, you let out a small groan at your fingers scrubbing your scalp. The sound of the shower curtain being pulled back and Tyler stepping in behind you makes you turn. “I haven’t even been in here that long.”

He shrugs, then moves to hog the water. “I got impatient.”

After being with someone for so long and sharing everything, nothing really fazes you. The crew jokes that you and Tyler could probably morph into one body at this point.

By the time the two of you are mostly rinsed off, he’s getting handsy. His fingers trace over your handful of tattoos, wet skin sliding across you in a feverish way. You lean your head back against his shoulder, looking up at him. “Ty…”

He looks down you was an innocent smile. “Oh come on, we’ve been traveling with people for too long. We get one night without Boone gagging when I kiss you.” He says, then leans his head down, nuzzling into your neck.

You bite your lip at the feeling, your arm coming up to run your hand through his hair. “Who’s in the room next to us? These walls are thin.”

“I don’t give a shit about that.” He mumbles, hand slipping far past your navel, earning a loud gasp from you.

You lean your weight back against him, nodding feverishly as his fingers do wonders to an aching spot between your legs. “Okay, not having Boone around is really good.” You breathe.

He’s practically holding you up, his other arm is around you, holding you to his chest while he makes you fall apart.

It didn’t matter that the room hasn’t been updated since the 80’s or that the mattress groaned under the weight of the two of you or that Rocky runs and hides, the two of you were savoring this alone time because you didn’t know when the next time would be when you got it.

You’re laughing, making out and switching positions. The feel of his hand running past the valley of your breasts and giving your throat the lightest grip, it makes you feel on fire. The headboard’s getting knocked into the wall, you’re breathlessly whining and he’s loving every reaction you give him. By the time you’re gripping his shoulders so tight and his name is sounding broken as it cuts from your throat, he’s barely holding himself up.

The air conditioning makes an odd hum sound as you lay against him, skin on skin. You never understood how people could get bored of sex after being with someone for a while, having sex with Tyler Owens was hotter than west Texas in the Summer.

Well, the first time was a little awkward. Most people don’t establish they love each other before they sleep with each other, but you guys did. When you sat in his lap, lips slotted against his, you had to fight to push the idea out of your mind that you were grinding against your best friend. Everything was slow and every touch was unsure, after it ended you were scared that the relationship dynamic would never work if this was how sex was together.

You laugh now, thinking about it.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, fingers tracing the long horn skull that is tramp stamped on you.

“I’m just remembering the first time we had sex.” You shake with amusement. He groans. “You have to stop bringing that up.”

Pushing up from his chest, the blanket falls off of you. He watches in amazement as you swing your leg over his waist, your hands planted on his chest. “I think it’s cute, we were just babies.”

“Yeah, sometimes I miss the days where I didn’t know how insane you were.”

You glare, immediately going to move off of him before his grip yanks you back to your spot.

“I’m kidding, I always knew you were crazy.” He says.

“You love it.” You lean over him, and his hand comes to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “You know I do, darlin’.”

Falling asleep was easy, you could fall asleep anywhere, but in a bed with Tyler holding you to his chest, it had you dreaming in seconds. You wake before he does, slowly sliding away to get dressed. You stand at the balcony outside, a cup of coffee in your hand as you watch the sunrise. After a few moments of peace, the door behind you opens and out comes your lover boy.

“No rain dance this morning?” He asks, kissing the top of your head.

“There’s plenty of rain in Oklahoma, they don’t need me to shake my ass in the parking lot for it to come.” You state, leaning down to pick up Rocky who trailed out after Tyler.

The two- well, three of you, look out at the horizon line, the air is already getting hot.

“You ready?” He asks you, and you turn to kiss his jaw. “I’m always ready.”

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

Alright, so this is legitimately something that I have wondered about for a long time, so I figured that I would finally make a poll about it to hopefully satiate my curiosity

If y'all could reblog, I'd appreciate it! I almost always look for the fics with the most kudos, but I'm curious what everyone else does when looking for fanfics! Sorry if your way is not listed, I ran out of options, ha. Feel free to elaborate in the tags too! As a fic writer, It's interesting to me to see how people choose the fics they read.

Also, this is mostly based on the tag system that AO3 has since that's what I'm interested in. If you choose mostly based on the summary or something else, please mention that in tags!

[antimonyandthyme]

WHAT IF CARCAR REALLY HAD MAGNETS BETWEEN THEM

/or a stuck together au

“It’s like Eat Pray Love,” Carlos says.

“I’ll be honest,” Guanyu says. “Neither of you remind me of Julia Roberts much.”

“Please just,” Oscar massages the bridge of his nose, “point to a place on the map. Any place.”

“Why China,” Guanyu presses. Of course he’s curious. “Why not Spain or Australia?”

“Neutral ground,” Oscar says quickly.

“Ah I see,” Guanyu says. “You can’t agree on a spot, right?”

“I keep telling him,” Carlos says, always with the over-the-top gesticulating. He tries it with both hands first, then realizes Oscar’s being all sorts of petty and weighing his left arm down on purpose where they’re joined, so he continues gesturing eagerly with his right. “Come to Madrid!” He nearly smacks Oscar in the nose with his hand. Oscar scowls. “We have so much good food. I can show you all the things, but no! Piastri will only agree to get sunburned on Australian sand. We have beaches in Spain, too!”

“Guanyu,” Oscar urges, “a place, now.”

“Here,” Guanyu says, index finger plopping down. Like some cartoon scene, both Oscar and Carlos automatically lean in to squint at the map, and bump their heads against each other.

“I hate you.”

“Hard same.”

“Lijiang is actually a famous honeymoon destination,” Guanyu says.

“I hate you,” Carlos says.

“Hard same,” Oscar says.

“Hey.” Guanyu grins like this entire situation is wildly hilarious. Maybe it is, for everyone else. Oscar kinda wants to jump into the sea, but Carlos will only drag him down, their uncoordinated conjoined limbs tangled and thrashing. “You guys asked me to choose. Look, don’t you want to see pandas?”

Carlos makes some sort of shocked noise. Oh, for the love of—Oscar groans. He knows when someone’s just bought something.

“Carlos wants to see pandas,” Guanyu says, sounding far too delighted. “Chengdu’s like a fourteen-hour drive from Lijiang, that’s totally doable.”

They stare at him blankly.

“Oh my god. Chengdu, you know? Research base for giant panda breeding? Panda capital of China?”

Twiddle-Dum and Twiddle-Dee: “Ohhhhh.”

“Yeah, now you got it. In between, you can hit a dozen other places and never grow bored.” Guanyu taps his finger along the map, tick, tick, tick. “So why not? Complete the journey. Transform into Julia Roberts.”

“And break the curse,” Carlos says solemnly.

“Break the curse,” Oscar repeats miserably, but with his left hand, goes to look up flight tickets on his phone.

--

They discover that the only way they can pull on extra layers is if they yank themselves apart with all their might, creating just a sliver of space between their elbows. It’s painful. Oscar never wants to have to do this again.

“Now,” Carlos yells, and in a flurry of movement Oscar gets his coat on before their elbows snap back together.

Ow, ow. Oscar’s eyes are watering. He suspects Carlos’s is doing just the same.

“Okay, okay,” Oscar says. “Now your turn.”

Carlos waves him off. “I’m not cold.”

Oscar opens his mouth to argue, but Carlos is already dragging them off toward a sign with a car on it. The rental cars are left-hand steering, and it dawns on both of them at the exact time that Oscar will be doing all the driving, with the way they’re stuck to each other.

“No fair,” Carlos moans, as Oscar fist pumps the air. It would be too childish to stick his tongue out at Carlos. So he doesn’t.

A part of Oscar’s a spectator to all of this. Watching with his mouth hanging wide open, some disembodied shade looking from outside in, as his own body purchased tickets, packed a luggage (with Carlos in the same room), and boarded a plane. None of this makes sense. Getting into a car with Carlos, firstly. Then with the added condition that both of them have to clamber in from one side, before Carlos can climb over the middle console into the passenger seat. Fourteen hours of this, huh? He’s going to give Guanyu hell when they get back.

If, they make it back. Oscar guesses it’ll be two hours before they attempt to murder each other. You don’t go road tripping with people you can’t stand. It’s the one and only sacred rule of road tripping.

“I think I saw this in Final Destination.”

Oscar, zoned out staring at the road, manages a stupid, “What?”

“You know that pileup where everyone dies?”

“Everyone always dies in Final Destination.”

Carlos rolls his eyes, shakes their joined elbows for emphasis. “The scene where the logs fall off? A lot of screaming? A lot of swerving? All because they were stuck behind a logging truck?”

“Carlos.” Oscar takes one deep, deep calming breath. “Are you asking me to overtake?”

“If you can, yes,” Carlos says, like Oscar’s the one being thick. “Go on. I’ll help you hold the wheel steady.”

Oscar cranes his neck and glances around the side of the truck. The opposing lane seems clear, not a headlight in sight. What the heck. You can take the driver off a track, but he’ll still want to race.

“Woo!” Carlos yells, as Oscar zooms around the steadily plodding truck. A little clumsy, with Carlos almost overcompensating the steer as they merge back into the right lane, but successful, nonetheless. No one dies.

Mismatched hands on the wheel. Adrenaline spiking for just a few seconds of speed. Oscar finds himself wearing a grin to match Carlos’s. Maybe they’ll cut it down to thirteen and a half hours like this.

--

“Guanyu was right,” Carlos says thoughtfully.

Oscar’s got his nose buried in a helpful English guide. A sense of ambitious adventure appears to have overtaken them. He wants to hit at least three lookout points today. “About?”

“Look,” Carlos points in some vague direction. “All the couples.”

“Huh,” Oscar says. “That is a lot of couples.”

No one pays them any mind. They haven’t been recognized since they stepped foot here. For all intents and purposes, they could just be another one of those peaceful couples, milling about.

Well. Peaceful, would be a bit of a pipe dream.

“YOU CAN PLAY GOLF AT JADE DRAGON SNOW MOUNTAIN.”

“Carlos,” Oscar hisses. “Quiet.”

“You can play golf,” Carlos repeats, softer but no less excited, eyes larger than two sparkling coins, “at Jade Dragon Snow Mountain!”

Oscar snatches the guide back from Carlos’s hand. “I’m pretty sure I just read that the mountain’s considered holy.”

“They let people play golf on a holy mountain,” Carlos says for the third damn time. “I love it here.”

“We’re not playing golf,” Oscar says.

“Oscar,” Carlos says, dismayed.

“You have one hand, remember?” Oscar wriggles their stuck arms, a reminder he didn’t even know Carlos would have needed.

“Riiight,” Carlos says, shoulders drooping.

“We can still see the mountain though,” Oscar says, is alarmed at the tiny skip-hop going on in his chest when Carlos brightens again. Doesn’t take a lot to keep this guy happy. That’s, good for him. That’s good.

They decide the cable cars up are too much hassle, with the queues already stretching out for hours. The mountain’s basically viewable from anywhere, so Oscar steers Carlos toward Old Town. Where he discovers that Carlos is terrible at haggling. Absolute nightmare. He hands over money to anyone who so much as gestures him over. The singular tote bag Oscar brings starts to get filled with random trinkets, from fans to calligraphy pens.

“What’s this,” Oscar says, when Carlos shakes his head as Oscar prepares to pack away two wooden charms in the shape of a very rotund cat.

“Not for keeping,” Carlos explains. “They’re for wishes. We hang them up in the temple.”

“Oh,” Oscar says. Carlos had gotten one for him too. “I didn’t think you believed in these things.”

“I don’t,” Carlos says quickly, before looking away, like he’s afraid Oscar will laugh at him.

Oscar chews at his lip. He didn’t mean to suggest it was silly. It’s a little unfair for Carlos to think so lowly of him. If they could, this is where they’d walk their separate ways and browse different shops, long enough for the awkward tension to diffuse. Come back refreshed and recharged for more time spent in each other’s company. No such grace, here.

The stream whispers as it flows by the stone-paved path. The wooden house clusters look as if they’re linked, hand to hand, a never-ending line all the way to the top. Everything here’s older than Oscar, older by years and years and years.

“I keep an amulet in my helmet,” Carlos says. His eyes wander around like he’s sightseeing. “I don’t know why I lied.”

“A little belief can’t hurt,” Oscar blurts out, just so Carlos would stop looking so wounded. “That’s what I always say.”

Carlos nudges him. “You never say that.”

Above them, a thousand colorful prayer flags blow gently in the wind. Wooden charms as numerous as the birds adorn the roof of the temple. Wishes for health, prosperity, family. Oscar tries to peek at what Carlos is writing, only for Carlos to shove him away so violently that they both fall over.

Oscar laughs as Carlos strains to keep his charm out of prying reach. No easy task, both of them being joined and all.

May the new year bring surprises and joy. For my family and friends, good health always. For myself—

Oscar wrenches his gaze away. Some things aren’t for anyone else to know.

He watches Carlos hang his charm up carefully. And then Carlos waits, back turned as much as he can, for Oscar to write his own wish. It’s simple. Fast car, many wins. Happiness. Oscar ties his somewhere near Carlos’s. Closes his eyes and listens to them jangle together.

--

For myself, patience.

--

Oscar’s pretty sure he’s dying. He’s pretty sure this is what dying feels like.

“I thought,” he gasps, in between gulps of warm tea that only makes things infinitely worse, “I told her not spicy?”

Carlos is cackling like the unhelpful asshole he is. “This is not spicy.”

When you explore some place new, local recommendations for food are a must. Oscar’s seriously reconsidering Travel Tip 101 when he gets fed hotpot that turns his tongue worryingly numb.

“Well, it is a little spicy,” Carlos concedes. “But nothing I can’t take.”

“Isn’t Spanish food not spicy?”

“It’s not,” Carlos says. “Actually, I wasn’t good at taking spice until after I started driving.” He fans exaggeratedly at Oscar’s overheated mouth, like that could even help an iota. It’s so Carlos it’s endearing. Shit. “I only started putting hot sauce on all my trainer’s meals because everything tasted so bland.”

Oscar coughs, wiping at his leaking nose. “It burns,” he moans.

“There, there,” Carlos says, mock sympathetic. “Don’t cry.”

“Seriously.” Oscar blinks rapidly, is it affecting his eyeballs too? His pulse thuds like the hoofbeat of a runaway horse. “How are you not even sweating?”

Carlos winks at him. “They don’t call me chili for nothing.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Aw,” Carlos says, and finally puts himself to some use by waving down a server, and sweettalking her into bringing a pitcher of iced water over.

Oscar calls first dibs on the shower, claiming the need to wash the spice out of his pores. Carlos rolls his eyes but acquiesces, gallant about it for once. They force themselves not to make it awkward. Pull apart for just long enough to slip their clothes off, eyes everywhere but on each other. Carlos stands outside the curtain as Oscar tries to shampoo and soap himself down in the narrow tub with one hand.

When it's Carlos's turn: “Oh my god,” Oscar says. “Carlos, are you using soap for your hair?”

“I’m trying to be quick,” Carlos says, voice disembodied even though he’s right next to Oscar. Separated by the thinnest sheet of translucent nylon. The shadow of Carlos is unmistakable in the light. The broadness of his shoulders, the tapering of his waist. “So you do not stand outside for forty-five minutes like I did.”

“I didn’t take forty-five minutes!”

Carlos laughs, the cackle now almost familiar. “And how are you knowing I’m using soap? Are you peeking?”

“I hate you,” Oscar says, waits for Carlos to return with a Hard same like they’re in on the same joke. Waits and waits until Carlos emerges from behind the curtain, not fifteen minutes later, lips still sealed together like withholding some secret.

--

As designated shotgunner, with no say in the matter, Carlos is in charge of the GPS and the AUX cord. After the second album of Enrique Iglesias, Oscar relegates him to Captain of Pointing Out Exit Signs Only. Carlos pretends to pout about it, but he reclines his seat, as far back as their joined elbows will allow. Closes his eyes, limbs loose, all relaxed. He looks so good like that, when he’s as easy as easy can be.

Oscar swallows the click in his throat back down.

“I feel bad,” Carlos murmurs, sounding like he’s close to drifting off. “You’re doing all the work.”

“I don’t mind,” Oscar says. He’s getting real good at one-handed maneuvers now. Hah, maybe this will be beneficial on the track. “I hate getting driven. I rather do it myself.”

“Control freak,” Carlos says.

“Yeah,” Oscar admits. “A little bit.”

When Oscar dares to look over at Carlos, there’s a smile curving his lips gently up. They didn’t magically learn how to talk to each other. But it’s a start, trading little morsels of information like passing notes in school.

One of Guanyu’s other suggestions had been Emei Mountain, boasting an altitude of over three-thousand meters and some ridiculous number of stairs.

(Sixty thousand, to be precise. Oscar had opened his mouth to complain, but Guanyu had responded with a report of the monkeys that lived in the mountain. There came that dazed, excited noise from Carlos again, and Oscar knew it was a lost cause.)

Jet-lag’s working in their favour, and they’ve arrived before the tour buses can deposit too many people for them to stomach. Ambitions are dampened when they realize climbing’s harder when surgically joined by some unknown force at the elbow. When Oscar lifts his left leg, his right arm wants to go, which means Carlos’s left arm needs to go, which means Carlos’s right leg needs to lift. They clunk around clumsily for the first chunk of steps, griping and critiquing each other’s technique. The fog rolls in and laps at their ears, and for a while, there’s nothing much to see.

An elderly lady pressures them into an early lunch, and Carlos gives in effortlessly, like always. It ends up being the best thing Oscar’s eaten since coming here. They fight over the last slice of barbecue pork, and Oscar wins, by virtue of being slightly better at using chopsticks.

By the time they’re halfway up, they’ve got climbing down to an art, limbs moving like clockwork around the constriction. Carlos takes advantage of their newfound skill to increase their pace to a march.

“Carlos,” Oscar’s not ashamed to beg. “Please, won’t you stop and look at the monkeys.”

Carlos laughs at him and calls him slow. Because Carlos is crazy, he’s taken off his light sweater even in this weather, and the threadbare white shirt he’s wearing leaves little to imagination. Chest hair, nipples. Oscar looks away before he can be caught staring. The fog’s given way to some amazing views. Rich vegetation, more trees than Oscar’s brain knows what to do with. Beautiful things all around.

Carlos’s face swims into view. “Come on.” The tugging at the elbow doesn’t hurt as much as it did before. “To the top! There are giant golden statues!”

The statues are indeed golden. And they are indeed giant. The largest one weighs six hundred and sixty metric tons, according to the pamphlet. Larger, surely, than the feeling expanding in his lungs.

“Look, Oscar!” Carlos points with their joined arms, all delight.

“Yeah,” Oscar says. Quickened pulse from the strenuous activity, and he wills it to settle. Control freak. “I’m looking.”

--

Designated phone time on the bed is an hour long. Oscar uses it to text his mum, sift through photos from the day. With how close they’re forced to be, it’s hard to get a picture without a body part of Carlos making its way in. Oscar finds he doesn’t quite mind. He’s got one of the cloudless, blue sky, the backdrop for the Leidongping cable car station. Carlos is pointing at something again, his finger situated artistically right in the middle of the lidless eye of the sun.

Guanyu’s the one who got them into this mess, so he probably deserves a photo update. Oscar sends it over WhatsApp and receives an O-M-G!!! in return, along with nine panda emojis.

No pandas, we’re not at Chengdu yet, Oscar types.

Honestly, I’m surprised you even made it this far, Guanyu says.

Wow, thanks

Oscar squints, rereads Guanyu’s message.

Wait, you were the one who gave us this itinerary!

Hahaha, is all Guanyu says, followed by multiple peace sign emojis.

加油!

Oscar has to google translate that, learn that it means to add oil. To go for it. Go for what?

“Teto says he wishes he was here too,” Carlos says sleepily, looking up from his phone.

“Teto’s out of luck,” Oscar says, ignoring the flash of something hot and possessive down his spine.

He plucks Carlos’s phone out of his willing fingers. Reaches over Carlos for the pull chain of the lamp. Beneath him for just a second, Carlos shifts, comfortable, cozy. Oscar gets the ludicrous notion that if he were to collapse down, right now, Carlos’s body would welcome him.

Shit. How long until they come apart?

Click, off go the lights. Meekly, Oscar makes his way back to his designated side of the bed. Carlos mumbles a soft Good night. More intimate than he could ever mean. Oscar mumbles something back, and satisfied, Carlos closes his eyes. He likes sleeping on his side. Coincidences of coincidences, so does Oscar. Carlos falls asleep faster though, and it gives Oscar a lot of time to stare without accusation. Trace the planes and slopes of Carlos’s face before he drifts off himself.

--

At long last. Chengdu panda base.

After jostling with the crowds to watch the pandas tumble around for their food, then tumble around to play, then tumble around to sleep, Oscar turns to Carlos.

“Well?”

“Eh,” Carlos makes a see-saw motion with his hands. “It’s a little anti-climatic.”

Oscar barks out a laugh. A joined body part, three shared showers, thirteen and a half hours in a car together later, and Carlos still surprises him. He really doesn’t do Oscar well on a neurochemical level.

“Isn’t this what you came here for?”

“I thought it was,” Carlos says. It’s no longer only their elbows touching. Now it’s bicep to little pinky, pressed up against each other like puzzle pieces which fit slightly crooked. One long, unbroken line of heat. “I thought—”

Carlos tapers off. Oscar waits.

“Well, it’s the journey that counts, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“They’re very cute, too.”

“Uh huh,” Oscar says. “Pictures or Guanyu’s never going to believe we made it here.”

Oscar takes one of Carlos with a sleeping mama panda in the background. He’s halfway through checking if it’s any good when Carlos grabs the phone.

“Come here,” he says.

It’s not easy arranging themselves together and catching a panda as well, but heck, didn’t they climb sixty-thousand stairs with some careful coordination? Carlos holds out the phone with his right hand, smooshes their cheeks together. The scrap of Carlos’s stubble against his skin—that’s, there’s a new sensation, in every way possible.

“Say panda,” Carlos says.

“Panda,” Oscar says, the same way he would say, Alert, or Danger, or Abort. His cheeks are going to show up pink in the photo. And Carlos will notice and say something completely asinine—

“Hee hee,” Carlos says. “Your eyes are closed, Oscar.”

--

Once they get enough panda souvenirs to shower the grid, the rest of the day passes in the laziest of fashions. They’ve hit their goal now, so there’s no need to rush. Oscar actually bothers to look through Yelp for restaurant options, and after all his hard work, gets yanked by Carlos into some random alleyway with plastic stools to eat hand-pulled noodles.

Meandering like leaves on an easy stream down the folk and culture street, the promise of a hot shower eventually calls to them. Oscar, gentleman that he is, lets Carlos go first.

Oscar stares unblinkingly at a water spot on a tile as Carlos hums and soap himself, as easy and as relaxed as if he weren’t stuck with Oscar listening to the way the water hits his skin. The first time in the shower, when Oscar had unwittingly brushed his hands over his dick, he’d jumped, then stood still for a whole minute, waiting for Carlos to call him out on it. It’d felt forbidden, with Carlos standing not two inches away.

To Carlos’s credit, he doesn’t punch Oscar when the curtain is pulled back, with a force that can only be described as resolution. He only yelps like a little pup, clapping his free hand over his chest, before the hand trails self-consciously down.

“I’ll help you shampoo,” Oscar says. “It’s faster this way.”

“Well,” Carlos says, “if it’s faster.”

They’re staying at the Shang this time, and there’s fancy shampoo smelling like bergamot and orange. Oscar douses Carlos with half a bottle, squeezing too much out by accident. He keeps bumping his hand into Carlos’s while they attempt to scrub. The lather gets into Carlos’s eyes, and Oscar has to try and hide his smile while Carlos whines piteously. It’s not actually faster in any way.

“There, there,” Oscar says, in a similar tone as to when Carlos had observed Oscar leaking copious fluids over hotpot. “Baby.”

Carlos makes a face and pretends to start crying again, and something terribly fond constricts the entirety of Oscar’s ribcage.

Towelling each other dry is a whole new learning curve, just like putting clothes on, and driving one-handed, and climbing stairs. They’re looking at each other this time, too. That’s also new. Huh. Carlos is very, very gentle as he dries the back of Oscar’s ears. The kind of gentle that speaks of someone having done this for him before, resulting in an insistence in getting this right. Oscar gets all warm, even with the water cooling rapidly on his skin.

“Phone time?”

“No need,” Carlos yawns.

It’s Carlos that leans over this time for the light switch, even though Shang’s posh enough to have light switches at both sides for easy access. Carlos hovers over Oscar for a suspended moment, and Oscar sucks in a breath, straining with anticipation. The head pat is unexpected, but enough for now.

Satisfied, Oscar closes his eyes.

--

“Hey!” Carlos exclaims. “Oscar, we’re free!”

“Whuh,” Oscar says blearily. He’ll never acquire Carlos’s habit of waking up at eight.

“Look, look,” Carlos says, all childish delight. He waves his arms in front of Oscar’s face. Both his arms.

“Hey!” Oscar says, shooting up, suddenly awake.

“Yeah!”

“So all we needed was a shower?”

“Oscar,” Carlos says disapprovingly. “It wasn’t just a shower. We wrote this on prayer cards.” Oscar doesn’t point out neither of them wrote this on a prayer card. “We climbed a mountain. We saw pandas!”

“And took a shower,” Oscar says.

Carlos sniffs. “Have it your way.”

“Fine, fine,” Oscar says. It’s too early to be feeling all warm and crumbly, like the center of a freshly baked pie. “It was the journey that counts, yes?”

“Yes,” Carlos nods. “Maybe. Maybe it was something I—we had to learn. In preparation for. For—”

May the new year bring surprises and joy. For myself, patience.

Their hands are no longer joined, but Oscar takes Carlos’s, and presses a quick, dry kiss to the backs of his knuckles. Carlos is so surprised he lets him.

“Ah,” Carlos says, voice trembly and a little hopeful. “What happens now?”

Oscar looks down at their hands. Going through all of this to separate, only to choose to stay touching. There’s something about a journey being full circle, but Oscar doesn’t want to finish that thought for fear of actually transforming into Julia Roberts. And anyway—

“Now we drive back.”

They’re not near done, yet.

[drdemonprince]

I was never really certain about my transition in the way that most gatekeeping hormone prescribers and curious members of the public demand that a trans person be. I didn’t “always know” that I was not cisgender. I haven’t “always known” anything about myself. Very few truths about me have always remained true, my existence is too interpersonal, contextual, and ever-evolving for all of that. (So is most everyone else’s, I think). I don’t think that the fact I’d eventually choose to exercise my body autonomy at age 30 by taking hormones is a decision I could have foreseen when I was a child. All that I knew about being transgender when I was a kid was a fact that most children intuitively know: gender assignment was a violation of my freedom, of everyone’s freedom in fact, and it was wrong. As an infant and then a child and teenager, people kept imposing labels on me; they kept forcing me and my body into prescribed gendered boxes, and while the specific labels and boxes never really felt like the right ones, the most disturbing part about it all was the forcing. No coerced identity would have ever felt right. Children can tell when secrets are being kept from them, and when adults are restricting their choices. They notice that they and the other children are being lined up boy-girl, boy-girl, without ever being told what a girl or a boy even is. They can see their parents frowning when they reach for the doll with the shimmery hair, or climb atop the neighbor kid on the playground. Kids know that they are forbidden from sitting with their legs spread wide or flicking their wrist, and their gender illegibility is shamed in them, long before they get any answers about what gender means or where it comes from or why it’s so important that they make themselves easy to understand.

Like the cloned children in Never Let Me Go who grow up being conditioned for a life of forced organ donation, children in a cissexist society grow up conditioned to fall within certain gendered boundary lines, and by the time they learn that the reason for this is almost completely arbitrary, they can’t imagine any alternative. Not until some of them hear about gender transition and find the prospect very compelling, for some reason. You can say that reason is because some of us are inherently trans, but there’s absolutely nothing in the way of brain science, genetics research, or even sociological data to back that up. Besides, the search for a biological “reason” that people are transgender or queer runs counter to the goal of queer liberation in the long run. Science only needs to explain the existence of transgender people (or queer people more broadly) if our existence is in some way aberrant or a problem. If queerness is accepted as a form of human diversity that simply exists, then there is no need to excuse it by claiming that it is never a choice. It can be a choice, if a person wants to make it, and hopefully it satisfies them, but maybe it won’t. Freedom to choose means freedom to forever be dissatisfied, to search endlessly for more, and yes, to capable of making a mistake. I would say that viewing myself as transgender was a choice. I decided to break away from the straight, female categories to which I had been assigned, and doing so allowed me to view the legal and societal power structures that had restricted me more clearly. It helped me better understand myself. But that does not mean the actual act of breaking away was always the truest reflection of who I am. The version of me that transitioned was a person on the run — and how a person behaves, thinks, and self-conceives when they are fleeing is not a great reflection of whom they might be if they were safe. If we all lived in a world free from mandatory gender assignment, and where our bodies were not mined for meaning about the kinds of sex we liked, the clothing we should wear, the personality qualities we have, the roles we should play in society, and the connections we are allowed to form with others, who knows who each of us might be. But none of us get to live in that world, or ever gets completely free from the frameworks of heterosexuality and the gender binary. These frameworks shape every legal institution we encounter, every school we attend, every item of clothing we put on, every substance we take into our bodies, every piece of paperwork that ever gets printed about us, and every look another person ever gives us. And so we make due with rewriting and recombining those frameworks as best we can. It should come as no surprise that those us who break away from the binary have to experiment and revise how we understand ourselves quite a bit — sometimes getting things “wrong,” sometimes searching forever for the semblance of something “right.” Sometimes reveling in the “wrongness” of all the available options is kind of the point.

I wrote about my detransition, retransition, and the eternal dissatisfaction that is probably the corest truth of my identity. It's free to read or have narrated to you on my Substack.

[remuslupinslittleslut]

No Cocks in Cunts.

It's been a while since I wrote reader insert and I feel a bit unsure of the quality, but I felt I had to just get back in the saddle and write something.

Prompt: Reader doesn't enjoy penetration but the boys make it fun for her anyway.

This is for @mavelfan1 and everyone who voted for one shots for tumblr on my poll. I love you and have some smut.

Masterlist.

Original post here.

His hands rub your legs, trying to provide comfort. “What do you feel about getting eaten out?” He asks you, before winking and leaning down to kiss up your legs.

“I uh, feel, I think good, about that,” you say, forcing the words out, cheeks heated as Sirius’ lips continue their way up your legs. “Just don’t, you know, get in there.”

Kiss. “I won’t.” Kiss. “I promise, I’ll take such good care of you princess.” Kiss.

Your whole body shudders as his lips almost touch your wet core with every kiss pressed to your thighs. “Siri,” you whimper, “please…”

He chuckles, again, and this time you can feel the hot breath against your pussy. He’s soon silenced, as his tongue darts out and licks a stripe along your lips, stopping only to swirl around your clit.

Remus is still balancing his body weight on one arm, face above yours, lips having been moved from your forehead in order for his eyes to graze your face. As your body is opening up to the sensations of Sirius’ tongue, however, Remus gets impatient and your boyfriend leans down over you to kiss your lips.

It’s soft at first, a gentle press of lips, but he soon escalates it, licking across your lips and nipping softly at them. This forces you to open your mouth and he’s quick to enter, curious tongue finding it’s way around yours.

Between your thighs, Sirius is working his tongue all the way around your cunt, licking and sucking, making heat start to build in your core as you feel the finish line getting closer and closer.

“Go on,” James says, from somewhere on the bed, with both other boys’ mouths on you you’ve lost all of your attention span. “Come for us, come on Sirius’ tongue, be a good girl now.”

Your back arches as you grind your hips against Sirius’ face, forcing his face deeper into your cunt, making him taste every last piece of you as his tongue makes it way up and down, in long licks.

Remus pulls away before Sirius does, his hands on your cheeks and holding you still, eyes following your every move. “You’re fuckin beautiful, you know,” he murmurs, kissing you softly again on the lips.

When you have calmed down from your orgasm, you find that you’re the only one who got to cum, which somehow feels a bit unfair.

“So,” you start, heat rising to your cheeks again, as you feel their eyes on you, all aware that you’re about to say something cheeky. “What were the other things we could do that wasn’t…”

“Cock in cunt?” James provides, earning himself a shove from Remus and a laugh from Sirius.

“Yes,” you say, avoiding eye contact, “that.”

They share another look, and your stomach drops slightly, like when going on a roller coaster, knowing that the creativity about to flow would be exciting to say the least. They seemed to share more of a silent conversation than just a look, and soon your body was moved across the bed, placing you flat on your stomach.

“So,” Sirius says from somewhere behind you, “you just tell us if there’s something you don’t like, and then we’ll stop and do something else, yeah?”

You nod your head, anticipation rising in your chest. Your lack of verbal confirmation earns you a soft slap to the ass, and you manage an “okay.”

You hear the soft sounds of fabric moving, along with clinking of hardware, likely their belts, and the smacking sound of kissing. You love knowing that they can get off on each other, that you don’t always have to be the center of focus, even though you usually ended up in that position anyways, not actually minding one bit.

“Okay, we’ve decided on something each, and we won’t tell you beforehand, but you can choose who you want to start with,” Remus explains, reaching a warm hand to rub the flesh and fat of your ass. “So take your pick darling.”

You shudder at the thought, raking your mind for who you think would be the most fun to start with.

“Remmy,” you say it the same second you’ve decided, the choice coming easily to you. You’ve missed his hands on your body and you can soon feel the withdrawal in an uncomfortable way. “Please,” you add, trying to make him hurry.

“Coming, darling,” he says, straddling your thighs and leaning down to kiss along your spine. “Padfoot, lube,” he demands, one hand leaving your body.

Soon after, you can feel the cold fluid hit your backside, falling into your crack, leaving your arse all cold and wet. Remus’ warm fingers rub through the liquid, running it along your backside and all the way to your front, allowing it to mix with your own natural wetness. It shouldn’t come as a shock to you when his heavy cock drops down, slapping your ass and gliding along the lube.

“Remmy,” you whine it this time, desperate for more sensation.

He chuckles, but guides his cock to the crack between your thighs nonetheless, allowing the length of it to rub along your pussy, the head pressing against your clit.

“How’s that feel baby?” He asks, hips thrusting his cock back and forth in between your thighs.

“So-oo-ooo good.” It comes out a moan, the sensation against your already sensitive clit sending sparks of pleasure through your body with every brush of his head.

“See that,” he muses, “making perfectly good use of your pretty cunt, no need to go inside love.”

His pace slows down, hips grinding in hard, intentional motions against you. It starts as a throbbing somewhere within the pit of your tummy, small waves crashing through your body until it’s convulsing in pleasure.

“That’s my good girl,” Remus says, leaning down to kiss your shoulder.

His warm body is moved away from you and for only a moment you are left alone on the bed.

“Hi darling, my turn?” James says, reaching two strong arms out for you, moving your body to turn you, making you face him.

“Hi Jamie,” you say, smiling sweetly at him, reaching your own hands out for him, pulling him down into a searing kiss.

For a few minutes you stay like that, tangled up in a kiss with James, hands in his hair and breathing calming down after your orgasm.

His hands are rubbing down your sides, trying to keep you warm in your nude state; he never had any issues with that, his blood was almost always at a boiling temperature.

You don’t know what it is or where it came from, but suddenly, there’s a low vibrating sound from somewhere in the room and before you can really think it over, the object is pressed against your cunt.

“Ah!” You squeal, the vibrations causing your back to arch and your hips to grind. It’s so much, almost too much, after coming twice, the feeling is almost painful.

James dips his head into your neck, kissing the skin and breathing in your scent.

“You’re delicious, babe,” he murmurs, licking a long stripe up your neck. It’s only minutes before your body starts shaking, a blinding orgasm taking your body to somewhere in outer space. “Shh, love,” James is whispering, body still atop yours. “Shh, just gotta take it, just take it.”

You drift away from this reality to the sound of James’ soft voice.

*

When you awake, it is entangled in a warm embrace, all of your boys having fitted themselves around you on the engorged bed. There are limbs and love everywhere and you find your breathing is strained, but you don’t mind it one bit.

“Morning darling,” Sirius says, pulling you closer.

“It’s morning?” You ask, confused, making him chuckle into your hair.

“Not really,” his voice is soft but raspy in the mornings, it tastes like honey when you breathe it it. “Still very early, afraid you passed out a bit.”

He’s chewing his bottom lip, a tic you’ve noticed him having whenever he’s nervous or unsure of something.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, reaching your hand to cup his cheek.

His eyes flutter close at your touch, his cheeks turning a soft rose color. “I just…” he breaks off, and you know it best to not pressure him, but rather to just allow him to take his time. “I feel really bad about last night, I didn’t know you weren’t in to that and I almost made you do it,” he shudders at the memory. “Even with safe words in place I’m scared we’ll hurt you, I mean, we went pretty hard on you after that…”

You smile at him, brushing your thumb across his skin. “You don’t have to worry about it, my love,” you say, and you know that you mean it. “I know that I can always say no, and it was only proven when I did, and you stopped. You did exactly what you were supposed to, I’m just sorry to disappoint you with the whole no penetration thing.” The last bit is meant as a joke, as you are sure that they can make perfect do without it, but Sirius’ eyes widen still.

“We’re not missing out on anything, besides, Moony fuckin ruined my arse while James used that toy on you, it was really fucking hot, I’ve gotta say.”

It’s your time to shudder at his words, finding the thought of Sirius being fucked by Remus, turned on by watching you with James a very sexy one.

“Really?” You ask, giving him a smirk, “what was it like?”

You reach a hand down to tug at his briefs, freeing his half-hard cock and taking it into your hand.

He groans, turning his head to kiss the inside of your wrist. “Baby…” it’s a whine, music to your ears. “You were so beautiful, all blissed out, holding on to our Jamie for dear life, he’s got such a nice back, oh,” your hand is moving, a soft flick of the wrist that makes him moan. “Fuck, and Moony, oh my Moony, he’s so big, feels like he’s splitting you open, you couldn’t take it, you’d have to be all warmed up, and he shows no mercy, just fucks me so hard, while telling me not to take my eyes off of you.”

His eyes are screwed shut, but his hand reaches down to touch you, pinching and rubbing at your clit.

“I can image,” you tell him, “I felt him, Remmy, he’s so big, you did so good taking him.” You know Sirius always goes soft for praise, and your words send shivers through his body, convulsing in the shine of your appreciation. “You’re so good, so good to me, so good at touching me, I love you.”

Sirius’ body shakes as his breath gets heavy and his fingers toy with you in a rushed and impatient way. “Love you too baby,” he says, leaning his head in closer to yours, foreheads pushed together.

You come together, fingers sticky and thighs shaking, breathes shared between the two of you. When you’ve calmed down a bit, he leans in to press his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

“You’re amazing,” he breathes, giving his usual chuckle.

“So was that your plan? If I’d chosen you first?”

He grins at the thought, pulling you closer into him. “Nah,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “I would’ve sat you on my face, maybe tried suggesting a sixty-nine.”

[writingescapades]

Falls First, Falls Harder

Multiple characters: Rafayel x reader, Pinocchio x reader, Aventurine x reader

Rafayel:

Of course he fell first. You saved him. You befriended him. You encouraged him. You supported him. You bestowed your heart in his hands with a smile on your face. And you betrayed him. His love haunts him, for only he recalls these memories. And yet! And yet, he finds himself unable to detach from you. An urge beyond a mere bond. Your relation in the modern day, a palimpsest of new experiences atop old emotions. It’s new and old, scary and nostalgic. He doesn’t know if this path will end the same as every other path. He is a god. His every act demands a grand sacrifice, even from himself. And yet, he chooses to fall.

You fell harder. Who was this strange, charming, enticing man? Initially a job turned into best friend. You couldn’t imagine being in a position where you find yourself reaching out to someone you barely know but fully trust. Rafayel was surprisingly fun. Always keeping you looped and eagerly seeking for you to entwine back. Touchy. Deep, and very caring. His loyalty astounds you when surrounded by the lights and smiles of admirers. No matter how high to the gods his talents take him, he always seems to look down only upon you. It’s a different sensation, yet very familiar. Too familiar as your dreams are too eager to play on familiar faces and memories. You really don’t know where life with Rafayel will take you, but you’re slowly finding it impossible to imagine it without him.

Pinocchio:

You fell first. How could you not? A sweet, quiet, gentleman-puppet with a mischievous streak. In the wreak of Krat, this sole life drew you in. Pinocchio shone for he remained every enchanted, ever curious with the world, no matter how decayed it was. It was addicting. He taught you to experience life anew. You couldn’t help the resurgence of feelings you thought died with Krat. But you held back. He was a puppet, brand new to life. You could not possibly foist such emotions onto someone so, young – emotionally. Instead you savoured the friendship, and bitterly swallowed back your feelings, hoping they would go away one day. But they wouldn’t. So you fell harder.

Pinocchio is new to emotions, yes, but he isn’t a fool to himself. He may not be able to express himself as articulately as he imagines or desires, but he understands what he feels. The more he grew, the more he discovered. And so, to him, it made perfect sense to read a book and instantly connect the couple to him and you. And it made perfect sense to show you the book, point to the couple, and then move his finger back and forth indicating the two of you. He didn’t understand your frown and shake of your head. He didn’t understand your words or disagreement. Yes, you are friends. Yes, very close friends. But to Pinocchio, you are also what this couple was. Why else would he scrounge around for odd bits for you after a battle? Why else does he go to you first when he comes home covered in oil, mechanical hand in bad need of repair? What did it mean to you to be this couple? Yes, he would like to hold you. Yes, he does seek you out. Would you let him in?

Aventurine / Kakavasha

You fell first, but it took a long time. Aventurine would not show you any side of him beyond his persona of the gambling manipulator, and you could care less. For the longest time, he was just that guy you sometimes worked with. You worked surprisingly well together. Mostly because you let him plan everything out, putting in a voice when you knew your idea would work. It surprised you that he seriously considered your inputs. It surprised everyone else too, which was why you were unofficially Aventurine’s work partner. People really learn about one another when they’re exhausted, and their lives are on the line. Aventurine slipped his mask a little, but it was enough to see that there was more to him. You didn’t call attention to it, but quietly responded. If he noticed, he didn’t draw back. It was really the small things like holding his cup while he played, making sure no one slipped anything into his drink. Or carrying him to bed when he fell asleep at his desk again. You were just being a good person, until that moment. He was gambling, again, and you saw it. It was almost imperceptible, but after working alongside him, you knew when something was off. The stakes were high, and his hand started to tremble. You found yourself holding onto his hand. In shock, he let the dice go as he turned towards you. He won the game but attained a better reward. You.

Aventurine doesn’t pride himself on how long it took for him to let you in. He exaggerates kind acts because his life seemed to abstain from it, but he knows to be wary. That every open hand conceals a dagger. Which was why your nonchalance surprised him. You didn’t fawn over him, nor did you detest him. He was his himself around you, and he couldn’t bear that. But you were useful, and so easy to be around. So he pushed you and tested you, but it seemed that he was the only one who tired out. Aventurine cracked and Kakavasha peeked out. He expected a complete rejection, but you, you held his hand, and he has yet to let go.

[angelwishess]

୨୧ The Little Mermaid; Floyra AU!!

Floyd takes the role of Ariel, and Kyra takes the role of Prince Eric!

Tagging: @taruruchi @scint1llat3 since you guys seemed interested!!:3 and @screamintoad @gimmeurmoneyagh for being the #1 Floyra supporters ever HEHE <3

Rambling under the cut ~

Notes:

All of the characters in this AU are over 20 !!!

I’ll try to seperate this in different parts according to major plot points n’ stuff teehee (cw: mentions of alcohol)

In this AU, merfolk have not been seen in over a hundered years. Kyra is a princess and heir to the throne of a flourishing kingdom by the sea, and one day decides to run away for a little bcs she was bored HAHAHA

She hitches a ride onboard a ship of pirates, their captain being Jamil. While they were celebrating their new “crewmate”, a loud crash was heard coming from the nets.

Caught in the nets was Floyd, who the pirates planned to sell to make a fortune. But, Kyra couldn’t let that happen. And so she freed him in the middle of the night and helped him get back into the sea. (He actually bit her while she was cutting the ropes, and it left a scar.)

All the while, a terrible storm was brewing, and it eventually sinked the ship— causing Kyra to fall overboard alongside the rest of the pirates.

Floyd saved her, swimming her back to safety on the shores of her kingdom. That she tried to run away from.

As a week passes, Floyd began to not show up to help Jade lure in customers for Azul more often. Choosing to instead swim up to the surface, and around the shores he last saw Kyra.

One day, there was a parade. But in the middle of it all he saw Kyra sitting there on a grand parade float, surrounded by beautiful flowers. And he realized he had to see her again.

He swam back down, going to find Azul hoping that he’d give him a potion that could turn him into a human, even just for a little bit. Although reluctant, Azul makes a deal with Floyd.

Azul would turn Floyd into a human for a month, but he takes his voice in return. But if Floyd doesn’t get a kiss by the end of the month, he’d turn back into a merman.

Azul wasn’t too worried, the contract was made just to ensure he wouldn’t spend too long up in the human world. But, he was sure Floyd would eventually get bored and return back to them.

..Right??

Once on land, Floyd made his way to the palace where he was sure to find Kyra.

He managed to get rather far into the palace, slipping in undetected. It was a good run, until the guards discovered him, and began to escort him out.

Of course, they were stopped by Kyra, who was curious as to what was happening. And after seeing him, she immediately ordered them to release him.

Not having much of a choice, the guards let him go and Floyd pretty much runs to Kyra. 😭

Kyra, however, does not remember Floyd. She does not remember much of the day of the shipwreck other than tiny bits and pieces. But if its one thing for sure, she could never forget his eyes. One look into them, and Kyra knew there was something special about him.

Ever since this day, the two became inseperable. Much to everyone else’s dismay.

Floyd was nicknamed as the princess’ “jester”, as he didn’t do anything around the palace other than follow Kyra around and make her laugh 😭, but he still was allowed to do anything and everything he wanted to without any concequence, as Kyra would always be quick to make an excuse for him.

Kyra did teach Floyd sign language, but Kyra developed a strange skill to know exactly what Floyd was trying to say even without it. Talking with facial expressions to the max fr 😭

Ever since meeting, Floyd would get Kyra to sneak out of the palace more often. And the two had the most exhilerating of escapades. In less than a month, they had made a wonderful array of unforgetable memories. The most fun they’ve ever had!

While they were out, Kyra and Floyd ran into Jamil, who had also survived the shipwreck. Despite not remembering much, Kyra does, in fact, remember Jamil trying to kill her at some point.

So!! She immediately turns around and makes a run for it, dragging Floyd with her.

Jamil notices them, though. And while he doesnt exactly try to chase them, he does recognize them. Especially Floyd.

Meanwhile, with Azul, Jade and Elena… They have come to the realization that Floyd was probably not coming back anytime soon.

With only three days left, they had to come up with something to get him back. So, they send up Elena to the surface to try and get Floyd back.

While Floyd was happy to see his dear sister, he stubbornly refused to go back with her. Leaving Elena to wander around the kingdom, trying to find what Floyd seems to like so much about the human world.

Wandering into a bar called the “Mermaid’s Tail”, she sits at the counter beside an obviously intoxicated man.

She was about to leave, until she heard him grumble something that caught her attention.

“..If it wasn’t for that stupid sea beast, and that girl…”

Realizing Jamil must know something, Elena began to buy him drinks to get him to talk. Dragging out infromation and more from him, taking advantage of his intoxicated state.

“I see… Well, I just happen to know someone who can help you. Come by the shore near the cliffs, tomorrow at noon.”

Well, he had nothing much to lose anymore. So Jamil ended up waiting by the shore just as she said.

Suddenly, a tall figure emerged from the water. A teal skinned eelmer, that looked strikingly similar to the one that was caught in the nets of his ship that fateful day.

He found himself being led by the mer to a cavern near the cliffs, there he saw two others. A larger octopusmer, and a mermaid that looked eerily similar to the lady he met at the bar… Wait a minute.

Azul began to speak, trying to strike a deal with Jamil. Stating that they both wanted something, and they could help eachother.

If he married the princess, he would become royalty. And Azul could help him do just that. In return, Jamil would bring back Floyd to them.

(This is actually a ref to the fact Kyra was originally shipped with Jamil … Yeah I can’t believe this is how I admit this on this blog 😭😭)

Jamil eventually does agree to the deal. And Azul gives him a necklace that allows him to hypnotize whoever he pleases. (Basically just Snake Whisper in jewelry form LMAOO)

With two days left before the month ends, neither Floyd nor Kyra knew what was about to happen.

Jamil successfully got into the palace, hypnotizing Kyra into marrying him.

Aand this is the part where ive gotten stuck LMAO. Im not sure what happens next, but Floyd does manage to snap Kyra out of it, and Azul, Jade and Elena do accept that he has the right to make his own decisions and do their best to respect it.

Jamil and Elena … Something’s probably happening with them after everything actually HAHAH

Kyra and Floyd do get engaged!! They run away together, travelling the world together and seeing everything there is to see. And spreading their chaos everywhere they go. And so !! Even more silly fantasy shennanigans HEHEHE

HEHEHE OKAY I THINK THATS IT !! YAP SESH OVER 🤭