#free books come get em

[letters-to-rosie]

okay,,,,, hypothetically,,,,,, if one wanted to get into black power lit where would recommend they start 👀

the way I screamed lmao

first off, I wanna give a disclaimer: I am not the most well-read person in the world on Black Power. I read this sort of stuff as a hobby, and it's not the subject of my own academic work, even though I do write about race a LOT. I just like Black Power lol.

with that said, let's go through some hits!

Huey P. Newton

Newton, along with Bobby Seale, was co-founder of the Black Panther Party for Self Defense. he was murdered in 1989 and has a bit of a contentious legacy. however, while I recognize that many of Newton's personal issues got in the way of him being the most effective leader he could be, that shouldn't stop us from reading him! we never require perfection of, say, Lenin to consider him important, lol

Newton's Revolutionary Suicide is a powerful but very difficult book. I actually have yet to finish it because of the way he describes his time in solitary confinement. the conditions are literally sickening. but I want to get back to it someday. I also know there's a relatively recent reader on him that might be helpful, but I have yet to find a pdf copy of it :(

Kwame Ture/Stokely Carmichael

now for one of Newton's archnemeses! lol. Ture was a founding member of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, which hosted other famous figures such as John Lewis. he worked closely with MLK during the Civil Rights movement and was on the ground in many very difficult struggles. he would later become affiliated with the Black Panthers while Newton was in jail, and one of his most famous speeches is from the Free Huey movement. but they wound up not liking each other, mostly because Ture was firmer about not allying with other progressive movements. this caused tension with other Panthers such as Newton and Fred Hampton, who felt like allying themselves with international and local organizations was important, even if those orgs included non-black people. Ture eventually fled the US and lived most of the rest of his life in Guinea. I have a copy of a book of his speeches in the collection and highly recommend it. even when I disagree with Ture, I find him so engaging. he always makes me think. AND! if you're up for it, I'd recommend checking out some of his speeches. he was a very compelling speaker, and a bunch of his talks are uploaded on the youtube channel AfroMarxist

Angela Davis

Davis is perhaps one of the most recognizable names out of the Black Power era, probably because she's still alive, lol. Davis grew up in Alabama, and her church was famously bombed by white supremacists in 1963, killing 4 young girls. Davis would become famous a decade later when she represented herself at trial when accused of having weapons others used to kill cops. her imprisonment sparked an international movement. later on, she'd go on to become a professor, and she's still active as a public intellectual today. of her work, I've read part of Freedom Is a Constant Struggle, but I also have Women, Race, and Class and Are Prisons Obsolete? for your perusal! Davis is a leading figure in prison abolition thought, which is very very cool

Assata Shakur

Assata Shakur is known for many things, including: being the first woman on the FBI's most wanted list; being Tupac's godmother; and, most famously, being put in prison after a string of crimes she maybe did but maybe not, being freed by comrades, fleeing to Cuba, and hanging out there until the present (Newton also fled to Cuba at one point; that was a time). her autobiography is really great, though she doesn't tell you how she got out of prison. the writing is really engaging, and I think she does a great job of showing just how fucked up the surveillance of these groups was. she left the Panthers to join the Black Liberation Army, which was a very loose collective of smaller groups, but I'll let her tell the story lol

George Jackson

Jackson is the author of my current read, Blood in My Eye. he was also a member of the Panthers (there's a theme here), but he started his own group, the Black Guerilla Family, while in prison. one of the members ironically killed Newton! what a story lol. but Jackson spent the last years of his life in prison. he maintained a very militant outlook with clear principles. I really like the way he writes and his analysis, even though I'm slowly working my way through the book. he also has a famous collection of letters, Soledad Brother, which I hope to get into someday

Frantz Fanon

Fanon isn't part of the Black Power movement proper, but his writing is so influential to it it doesn't make much sense not to mention him. his main two works are Black Skin, White Masks and The Wretched of the Earth (which is in the collection). Fanon was from Martinique, moved to France, and eventually became part of the Algerian anti-colonial struggle against France. he died in his 30s!!! (Jackson died at 29, and Newton in his 40s; there's a theme here). but anyway, Fanon's brief life has powerful resonances to this day. in Wretched of the Earth he uses his background as a psychiatrist to give a really interesting analysis of the effects of violence on the colonized. Paulo Freire's famous Pedagogy of the Oppressed was actually written in response. and so were a lot of other things lol

Audre Lorde

Lorde was a big figure in the Black Arts Movement, which is associated with Black Power. her writing, along with Davis's, brings much-needed feminist (and queer! both are lesbians) analysis to the table. I've included two of her books, a poetry collection, and a collection of essays and speeches. I loveeeeeee Audre Lorde, and I highly recommend her work

Amiri Baraka

Baraka was the person who coined the term "Black Arts Movement." he wrote on a number of black art forms, but I have only so far engaged with his poetry. I have a collection here I haven't finished (full transparency, haven't finished the Lorde collection either; I kinda like to just go in there and grab a poem or two from time to time) called Transbluency. I would say that compared to Lorde, Baraka's poetry shows signs of its age more. it can get slightly toxic lol. but I find a lot of that resonates with me in it, and Baraka was so prolific that you can see how he shifts over time. someday I will find a digital copy of Un Poco Low Coup, I swear!

also gotta read Elaine Brown, Malcolm X, and Fred Hampton, but I have yet to. hopefully I have plenty of time to!

um okay this is a lot of reading!!! good luck!!! lemme know if you have questions!!

click here for pdf copies of most of the mentioned books!

[aria0fgold]

Okay, theory time! Basically, what I think is the reason for Wish Craft to smell/taste of burnt sugar! So... to start of, Wish Craft is a type of Craft that can grant wishes, and we all know that the power to do so is a double-edged sword. It depends entirely on the contents of the wish if it'll turn out good or bad, and in In Stars and Time, the wish can be granted in a variety of ways. For one thing, it can be granted immediately and outright (Siffrin mumbling whenever he makes something and unknowingly using Wish Craft during then. Whatever he makes turn out great if that's what he wanted! Like a wood figurine looking amazing). Another thing is that the wish isn't "granted" but you're instead given the means to fulfill it yourself (Such as leading you to an item or person that is the solution to your wish).

So, why is Wish Craft's specific scent "burnt sugar"? First, let's take a look at "sugar." Sugar has a very rich history, it symbolizes wealth and happiness. There's also various expressions related to sugar as well, anything that can be described as "sweet." Overall, many positive meanings is tied to sugar. But then Wish Craft has the scent of "burnt sugar," something sickly sweet. Burnt sugar is basically caramel, but Bonnie also described the scent as "caramel left to burn for hours," so it can't just be simple burnt sugar, but it's "burnt caramel." If caramel itself is a very sweet dessert, what'll happen if caramel, something that was made by burning sugar, burned even more? It'd taste Bitter.

Bittersweet is an expression, the combination of something sweet yet bitter. It can also be used to describe something that is a mixture between happy and sad. Kinda fitting in a way for a wish granting power to be bittersweet, isn't it? Because granting wishes can be something happy, it can also turn out sad, and most of all it can be bittersweet, all depending on What the contents of the wish are and Who is affected by it. For Siffrin especially, it truly was something bittersweet, his wish was granted in the form of power over time (the ability to use Time Craft, specifically looping time). It's sweet at first, because no matter what happens, everyone is safe, no matter what mistake Siffrin makes, it'll be fine because he can just loop back before that mistake ever happened. A wish that started off sweet yet later turned bitter. To start again and again and again, countless deaths, a routine repeating seemingly endlessly, none of their family members ever remembering anything.

It was sweet then turned bitter. A bittersweet wish, throughout the game, the scent of Wish Craft was mostly described as "burnt sugar," something sickly sweet. But during Siffrin's fight at the end, Bonnie described it as "burnt caramel," because that's what's technically happening to Siffrin's wish. It keeps Burning. Like a star nearing its end. It just burns and burns until nothing of it is left, Siffrin's wish kept burning, so much so that it got to the point of being able to destroy the world. Because at that moment, Siffrin reached his breaking point, he couldn't handle it anymore, the seemingly neverending loops, the fact that no matter what he does his family members will go their separate ways at the end of the journey, leaving Siffrin all alone without the Home he found himself in which is their family members.

So that's why I think Wish Craft's scent is "burnt sugar" as a way to signify wishes themselves. Wishes can be sweet, wishes can burn, wishes can be bitter, and wishes can be bittersweet. But that's also not the only thing wishes can be, because sugar isn't only found in good things, it's found in the dead as well, specifically plants. When a plant wilts, its scent is "sickly sweet," isn't it? And the way Euphrasie described it every time you talk to her, she says "something is rotting," because she can smell that "sickly sweet" scent of Wish Craft like Bonnie could. Euphrasie is especially familiar with the scent of rotting plants considering how she's surrounded with plants everywhere. So wishes too, can rot.

[ace-malarky]

okies I'm gonna disappear for a week or so bc flying out tomorrow to see not-so-local platonic love of my life!!

Also I have genuinely logged out on my phone. so when I say I'm gonna disappear. this is it.

I'll be back uhhhh somewhere near the end of the month.

Shit that's hilarious lmao why is the end of the month so close we just started

anyhow have fun! don't work too hard! Be good to yourselves!

or don't I guess I'm not the boss of you <3

[dyaz-stories]

JUJUTSU BOYS + PDA

how the jjk boys are when you're in public with them

including: gojo, nanami, choso, yuuji, megumi, maki

word count: 3.6k (500-600 words for one character)

cw: intended as canon compliant, established relationships, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, public demonstrations of affection, can't think of anything else tbh

a/n: been reading some fics in this format so wanted to try my hand at it again. it's been years since I wrote short pieces like that, so I hope you'll enjoy them!

GOJO

Gojo has no concept of personal space, and that is something you had to get used to since you started dating — if anything, since before you started dating. Even when the two of you were at a more flirtatious stage, he’d always be leaning towards you to talk to you, face inches away from yours, hands on your hips if he needed to move past you, arm casually around you if you were sitting next to each other. It was all the better if it flustered you.

None of this has changed, except that he’s much more extra about it now. Holding your hand while walking? Nah, that’s boring. He’ll have his arm around your shoulders, even if it’s not convenient given the height difference. He’ll also try to put his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, pout if you tell him not to do it. If you’re waiting in line with him, he has both of his arms around you, is resting his chin on top of your head, and wants nothing more than for you to lean back into his chest, relaxing into his embrace. You can both be doing totally unrelated things — you’re reading and he’s checking his phone — but you’re slotted against each other, and that’s how it is ideally for you.

You’re waiting for him to show up to your date when you feel yourself surrounded by familiar arms, and then his cheek is pressing against yours as he surveys the book you’re holding in your hands.

“Whatch’ya reading?” he asks, breath warm against your cheek.

“Just doing some research on emerging curses,” you say with a shrug as you close it and put it in your bag. “So, did you want to check out that new bakery?”

He hums in reply, and you wait for him to move so you can start walking.

He doesn’t.

“…do you plan on letting go of me?” you ask after a while, turning your head to look at him.

He pouts at you, inches away from your face.

“I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet…”

“We’re in public, Satoru,” you say, feeling your face heating up.

“So? Let ‘em stare. They might as well, if you ask me.”

You want to roll your eyes — one day, you’ll have to talk about that exhibitionist streak of his — but in the meantime, you just have to crane your neck a little to peck his lips. They’re soft, as always, and he follows greedily when you pull away, his hand coming up to tilt your chin up gently as he presses more kisses on the corner of your lips, then on your cheek.

“You’re impossible,” you say, badly hiding your laughter. “Let’s go, or we won’t make it to closing time. You’re late, by the way.”

He lets out a heartbroken sigh, but finally frees you, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you start walking towards the bakery. He keeps his strides short, so you don’t have to run to keep up with him, instead allowing you to keep a comfortable pace.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? I’m just too good at my job, they can never get enough of me.”

“Aw, poor darling,” you say. You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and bring it to your lips to press a kiss on the back.

He lets out a cough that doesn’t do much to disguise the fact that he’s getting flustered, and you grin, satisfied. Two can play that game.

Fortunately, neither Satoru nor you have any intention of forfeiting any time soon.

NANAMI

Nanami is a private man. There is no reason for the whole world to know his business, and he doesn’t feel the need to put his relationship on display for everyone to see. His softness for you is still plain to see in how gentle his voice gets when he speaks to you, in how carefully he chooses his words, in how fond his eyes are when he listens to you tell him about your day. He knows you like him holding your hand, though, so he’ll indulge you, especially when you’re walking by his side through crowded streets.

That is for practical reasons, of course. First, it just wouldn’t do to lose sight of you. Second, people tend to steer clear of him, his serious expression and his broad frame, and that means they realize quickly to steer clear of you. It has nothing to do with how soft your hand is in his, or how the way you use your thumb to stroke his skin sends shivers down his back.

“That’s a lovely restaurant,” you comment, eyes drinking in the elegant decor while Nanami is examining the menu.

“It had excellent reviews,” he answers, not going into details as to the great lengths he’d gone to in order to ensure that this date was as perfect as humanly possible.

“I’ve been in the neighborhood so many times, and I had no idea this was here,” you say. The place is very small, only a handful of tables, all of them now filled. You’re sharing an alcove with Nanami, creating some distance with other customers.

“There aren’t many tables available, so they don’t advertise much,” he explains as he sets the menu down. “But they’re known for their excellent cuisine.”

You give him a smile, then lean closer to him to kiss him on the cheek. Your lips linger just a little too long, and then you move them close to his ear, which is already turning quite red.

“Thank you for planning all that,” you say sweetly. “It looks wonderful.”

He clears his throat when you pull away, avoiding your eyes.

“Of course,” he answers, voice wavering imperceptibly. “Anything for you.”

And you know he means it, too.

Under the table, his hand finds your leg, large palm easily covering your knee while calloused fingers carefully rub your calf. You bite your lip, welcome the warmth that spreads in your body. You know Kento well enough to be sure that that’s as far as he’ll go, that he wouldn’t dare to do anything more in such a public setting, and that makes you enjoy the intimacy of the gesture all the more.

Later that night, while the two of you are walking out, his jacket is around your shoulder at his insistence — “It’s cold outside” — and he’s getting ready to call a taxi.

“Kento?”

He lowers the phone to look at you, and you push yourself on your tiptoe, hand closing around his tie to pull him down towards you.

It’s late at night, he tells himself. There’s no one around, he tells himself. That’s why he closes his eyes and allows himself to melt into the kiss, regretting it when you pull away too soon and catching himself before he grabs you by the hips to get you closer to him.

“I had a great evening,” you say. “Should we take this to somewhere more private?”

How much more merciless can you get?

“Certainly,” he says. “Just give me a second.”

There is nothing he can deny you.

CHOSO

Choso cannot wrap his head around what he can and cannot do around you. The rules for what is proper, what is acceptable, have shifted so much since he was last around, and he would die before he embarrassed you — or worse, before he did something that would make you push him away. He knows that you wouldn’t, and yet the fear is like a weight that tugs on his heart every time he thinks about it. He walks by your side, glancing at your hand that’s freely hanging between the two of you, and though he brushes his knuckles against yours, he just cannot bring himself to do it. It’s to the point where it’s the only thing he’s thinking about — and he just can’t do it.

Then you see something that catches your eye and you grab his hand and pull him with you in that direction, and he thinks his heart could just fall out of his chest. You make it look so easy, so natural, being with him coming as easy to you as breathing, and he couldn’t possibly ask for more. It takes him many other tries, many other dates, before he can take your hand in his. When he does, you glance down in surprise, then grin at him, and kiss his knuckles softly — and he’s so happy he could die.

“So,” you say, sitting on the park bench, knee pressed against his while you’re leaning into him to show him your phone, your hair tickling his neck, “that’s the movies they have on tonight. Think we should call Yuuji to ask him what to watch?”

“Hm,” Choso says, not really focusing on anything you’re talking about, not when you’re this close to him, “isn’t— isn’t that the one franchise he’s always talking about?”

You burst out laughing, then rest your head on his shoulder.

“No offense, babe, but there is no one in the world I’d go see a Human Earthworm movie for. Even if this one is supposed to have romance in it,” you shudder at the thought, “I’d like to go see something actually. You know. Watchable.”

Choso’s mind is going in overdrive. You’re so close, and he knows he should have gotten used to this by now. He isn’t usually like this, but some passers-by are looking — not necessarily being judgmental, though there was an old lady earlier who scoffed and shook her head, but… looking.

“Then I don’t know if Yuuji is going to be much help,” he manages to say as you keep scrolling on the cinema’s website.

“That’s fair,” you sigh, standing up from the bench, and even if he can now think again, he misses your warmth and your smell right away. “Well, maybe we drop the movie and just go get something to eat, what do you say?

“Sounds good,” he answers, standing up after you.

Hesitantly, almost clumsily, he reaches for your hand, fingertips brushing against your thigh as he does, then tightens his grip around your palm, ensuring that it wouldn’t slip away from you. You give him a fond smile, then take a step to get closer to him, and kiss him gently. His breath hitches, and his eyes dart around the mostly empty park.

“T-there’s people around,” he says quietly, and he hates that you step back to look around.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—”

He takes your hand to pull you with him, and you follow him through the grass as he finds a more secluded spot, behind a tree.

“There,” he says, and you chuckle at how satisfied with himself he sounds.

“Oh Choso,” you coo, leaning against the tree while you grab his shirt to pull him down towards you. His mouth is warm, eager, and his cheeks remain a fierce shade of red as he kisses you back insistently.

You would have missed the beginning of the movie anyway.

YUUJI

The thing about Yuuji is that any type of public demonstration of affection feels so natural coming from him. It’s almost never meant to be suggestive, it’s not something he thinks through, it’s just something he does. You’ll be sitting with Nobara when he appears, and he just puts his arm around you while talking to her, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You’re walking with him when he lifts his head up like he’s forgotten something, and what he forgot was to hold your hand, silly him.

If you walk by him while he’s sitting, he’ll grab your hips to pull you in his laps, fingers rubbing circles on the skin of your arms, absent-mindedly playing with your fingers as he holds your hand. After all, why wouldn’t he? He doesn’t even realize that it flusters you, and it just feels so natural for him to show his affection like that. He’ll look at you with stars in his eyes while you speak, not seeming to realize that his face is so close to him while you’re sitting in his lap.

No one pays attention to it anymore. You arrive just as Nobara is starting the movie — she’s putting on an action movie, thank you very much, even if Gojo just bought the collector edition of Human Earthworm 4 for Yuuji, with the director’s cut — and with all the students crammed in the room, including Panda, who’s taking most of the space on the couch, there’s nowhere left for you to sit.

“Come here,” Yuuji says cheerfully, waving you towards the armchair where he’s found his spot, “it’s about to start.”

You glance around the room for a reaction, but no one is paying you any mind. You walk over to him, perching yourself on one of the arms, legs over his. He doesn’t seem puzzled by it, just puts an arm around your waist casually.

Of course, you end up still sitting in his lap eventually, just slipping in it at some point in the movie. Can you be blamed? He’s warm and comfortable, and he wraps both arms around you so he can tuck his chin in the crook of your shoulder, nose brushing against your cheek when he turns his head. Not that he seems to notice how it makes your pulse quickens, eyes focused on the movie.

“What are the themes even supposed to be,” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows knitting together in annoyance.

“’Military good’?” you suggest quietly as a guy gets blown up on screen.

“The first half of the movie was about military bad,” he protests. “They can’t just act like that never existed.”

“Would you two shut up,” Nobara shouts from her spot, “or Maki will come beat you up!”

The two of you pipe down, knowing the threat is very serious and not one to take lightly.

When the movie ends, everyone gets up, stretching, but you’ve gotten comfortable against Yuuji’s chest, and you don’t feel like doing that just yet.

“That was terrible,” Yuuji comments, and you let out a brief laugh. Gojo has somehow made a cinephile out of him, and you love how worked up he gets over that stuff.

“Yeah, we should have been watching Human Earthworm 4 instead,” you say.

“Exact— oh, you’re making fun of him.”

You giggle, then tilt your head to kiss him. For a second, he freezes, eyes going wide. Kissing is the one thing he rarely initiates — but when you do, you get to see his gaze soften, before his whole body goes soft. His hold on your waist tightens — and then a pillow thrown with impressive precision hits him, and only him, on the ear.

“Not in public,” Maki shouts from all the way into the kitchen.

“Hey,” your boyfriend protests, “I’m not the one who—”

“You’re such a traitor,” you gasp, struggling to pull yourself free from his arms — but it’s no use against his strength, and he refuses to let go.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he says. “Now, where were we?”

You might have been at fault for the first pillow, but that second one is all on him, as far as you’re concerned.

MEGUMI

Megumi is a private guy. He can be affectionate in public, but there is a side of him that he only wants you to see. He especially doesn’t want any of your nosy friends, or worse, his adoptive dad to see how he can be around you. They would never stop teasing him after, and he doesn’t think he could live with that.

Or that they could live with that. Because he’d kill them.

It does annoy him that he’s supposed to deny himself because of them. If it was up to him, he’d spend most of his time alone with you, preferably in a small house in the middle of a forest with no one around, no curses, no sorcerers, no nothing. That, sadly, isn’t an option though, so he has to find his own way to do things.

“Don’t move,” he says sternly. “You have something on your face.”

You roll your eyes, but tilt your head up towards him, as he carefully runs his thumb under your eye, then over your cheek, blowing on it once it’s done.

“What was it?” you ask.

“Just an eyelash,” he says with a shrug. “You’re good now.”

You study him, waiting for him to give something away, but he doesn’t, just staring at you with the same expression he always wears.

“Should we get going?” he asks. “I thought we were supposed to catch a movie.”

“Sure,” you relent. “We should get moving.”

The streets are quite full at this time of the day, and you have to step aside frequently to let people pass, sometimes losing sight of Megumi. Eventually, with a sigh, he grabs your hand, pulling you with him as he walks, sending murderous glares to anyone who stays in his path.

“You’re going to get lost at this rate,” he mutters as he pulls you with him.

“I mean, worst case scenario we meet back at the theater,” you say, and you grin at the offended look he gives you. He notices it, but doesn’t answer, a light pink dusting his cheek as he glances away.

He hates the idea of being away from you on a day that’s supposed to be about the two of you — but since he refuses to say the quiet part out loud, you get to tease him all you want.

To be fair to him, having Megumi as your scary guard dog does make it much easier and much faster to reach the theater. He gives you a pointed look when you get there, and, to your regret, lets go of your hand quickly, though his touch lingers there a second longer than necessary.

“Should we get a couple seat?” you ask innocently as you approach the register.

Megumi glares at you once more while you give him a sweet smile.

“It’s better that way, right?” he says, clearing his throat. “Otherwise strangers might have to share one.”

“Sure,” you nod, not even bothering to hide your grin. “It’s just more practical, right?”

“Right,” he says stiffly.

Even once you are in the couple seat, he keeps a thoroughly appropriate distance from you, one that you might find a little hurtful if, at the end of the commercials, he didn’t fake a yawn to put his arm around you, in the least smooth way known to man.

“You know you can just do it,” you say quietly as the lights turn off, resting your head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to go through all that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles.

Reaching for his face, you tilt his head towards you, and push yourself to meet his lips for a sweet, soft kiss. For the first time since you’ve stepped foot outside, his whole body relaxes into yours, and he stops trying to pretend.

“You had something on your lips,” you whisper when you pull away.

He snorts, then quickly goes back in to steal one more kiss from you before the movie starts.

“Liar,” he says.

As if he’s one to talk.

MAKI

Maki isn’t a demonstrative person as a general rule. She does compliment you without hesitation, words falling from her mouth so genuinely that it never fails to fluster you, but physical demonstrations of affection don’t come easy to her, maybe because she received so little of it as a kid. She does it sporadically, and she does very much enjoy teasing you, loves knowing that she can get those reactions out of you.

It’s the more spontaneous gestures that get to you though. She’ll kiss your forehead after a battle that left you bruised, a way of comforting you. She’ll pat your head after you managed to pull an impressive move during training. On one occasion, when you got injured, she carried you in your arms to Shoko, demanding that you be taken care of right this instant. She’d been the one to get flustered after that, hiding her face in her hand in embarrassment when it was brought up later on.

It might not come easy to her, but she does love it when you do it — when you show her your love in that way.

“You’re late,” she scolds you when you reach her for one of your dates, needing to take a second to catch your breath because you’ve been running since getting out of the subway.

“Sorry,” you say between deep breaths, “there was an emergency.”

Worry flashes on her face immediately.

“A curse? Were you hurt?”

She reaches for you, tilting your face towards her as she examines it, then study your body to make sure you weren’t injured. You let her, surprised at first, then endeared.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she frowns once she realizes how soft your gaze has become.

You grin, then push yourself closer to kiss her. You don’t care that you’re in public, and though it wouldn’t have occurred to her to do it, neither does she. The kiss is sweet, gentle. I’m alive, you’re alive, it says. No need for more.

“See?” you ask cheerfully. “All good. Now, I’m pretty sure you were going to buy me dinner…”

She clicks her tongue, but she’s grinning. It’s nice to see her so at ease, so relaxed. It’s a side of her you’d never see within the walls of Jujutsu High, nor on a mission. You’re the only one that can bring it out of her, and man do you love it.

“I’m buying? Again?”

“I did almost just die.”

“Nice try, but you told me you were fine.”

“I’m fine now,” you insist, “but…”

“Well, I was disowned by my family, so I don’t have money. You’re buying.”

The two of you keep bickering, but, as you walk, you reach for her hand. She pulls away at first, years and years of reflexes kicking in instinctively, and once she realizes what you were doing, she’s the one who takes your hand in hers. She holds it delicately, careful not to break it — to be fair, her strength would probably allow her that.

It’s so sweet and light, being out there with you like that. So normal. She hopes it never ends.

You squeeze her hand, and she lets you guide her across the street, content with just following, knowing that she can trust you to fill in her shortcomings in the relationship, like she does it for yours.

The sky is grey, the forecast said it might run later tonight — Maki’s planned an umbrella, she’s sure you didn’t think of it — but as far as she’s concerned, the day is as beautiful as it could possibly be.

this is my first time writing for... pretty much everyone here except gojo lol. i hope you enjoyed it and that the characterization wasn't too off, but any feedback is welcome! if you want to support me and my writing, please reblog/leave a comment or send me an ask, i'd love to chat! i'll see you later for some more jjk writing ^-^

you can find my gojo x reader work here

[chaosandmarigolds]

yeah yeah Simon Riley with an equally badass partner sounds great but-

pre-k teacher?

Simon swore he had never seen something so...perfect in his life, and he had seen something pretty amazing things for all of the horrible things

Simon who is pretty certain he isn't good for you, after all he towers over you and whenever he does come by to help Price with a bake sale the kids stare up at him as if he's quite literally...a ghost

Simon and all of his scariness that melted away when you smiled up at him, a sweet thank you on your lips as you took the box to help clean out your classroom for the summer

Simon who told price he would find a way home on his own so he could stay to help you get all of the decoration down from the walls and get everything packed away

Simon who would snatch something he deemed too heavy with a hoarse, 'I gotchit, luv' not even realizing the pet name slipped out because it felt so...natural

Simon even though he tried to make your son sit on the small patch of carpet and keep him entertained with his book- he ended up becoming a playgym and babysitter while you did most of the heavy lifting

Simon who found your son to actually be pretty neat, unlike a lot of other children, telling the kid very censored versions of his time in the war as the little guy sat atop of his shoulders

Simon tried to very politely decline the dinner invitation (plus ride home) once the room was all packed up but gave in when you aptly took his hand and began to drag him to your car

Simon sat in the passenger seat as you apologized for the toy car that lay in the seat as you buckled your son into his car seat, smiling at the small photo that sat snug on the car screen

Simon encouraged the boys to sing along to the obscure children's song while you scolded him for it in the form of a light pat on the leg as you drove to the nearest child friendly restaurant (chick-fil-a or something along those lines)

Simon who paid for the dinner against your many denials and used it as the perfect excuse to hold your hand as he tapped the card against the reader

Simon who watched in wonder as you helped your son get his little boots untied so he could go play in the play area, your delicate hands and smile upon your perfect face...

Simon listened intently to everything you rambled about, from the happiness of teaching and why you chose it to your son and how he was the greatest blessing in disguise you had been given- funny, because he thought that about you

Simon when he heard that you would have to find a nanny for your son for over the summer since you'll need a second job wouldn't let that be for even a millionth of a second

''ll watch 'em, luv."

"Simon, that's so kind bu-"

"No buts, like the lil' guy, no problem."

Simon who does like the little boy you call your son, but who was mainly using the free babysitting as a reason to see you

Like it?? Part two is right Here!

[sadembryhours]

softened touch ♡ mattheo riddle

synopsis ; [name] takes a nap in the slytherin common room and mattheo keeps them company gender neutral reader, no content warnings

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

naps in the slytherin common room were routine for you. having a free period in the middle of the afternoon, right after lunch? you felt like you were blessed by some kind of angel.

pansy snickers to herself as you let out a little snore, shoving astoria lightly up the stairs. “leave ‘em be,” she says, “nothing can wake [name] now.”

blaise pauses as you turn over, eyes drifting up from his book and watching until you settle again. he’d already placed your notes where they needed to be ; no longer scattered on the table and floor. you’d been pushing yourself, he frowns, studying instead of taking care of yourself.

it’s mattheo who dares to linger the longest. he waves draco and theo away, urging them to leave without him. he was going to wake you — truly, he was — but you looked so peaceful when you weren’t scowling and glaring.

a velvet, evergreen blanket is folded over your body as you twist once more. another snort leaves your lips — mattheo grins at the sound. he crouches in front of your sleeping form before he can talk himself out of it.

delicately, mattheo brushes his pointer finger just under your eye, tracing the curve of your cheeks until he ends at the corner of your lips. your fingers tighten around the blanket as you whine, stretching lightly.

the panic doesn’t catch up to him until your eyes are gazing into his own. mattheo goes to speak but is silenced by your touch. you grab his hand — the one he’d been using to trace shapes into your cheek with — and cup your cheek with his palm.

mattheo’s breath catches in his chest as you smile.

“didn’t mean to wake you,” his whisper bounces around the room. your eyes flutter closed once more before you fight to keep them open. mattheo smiles, “go back to sleep.”

you hum, turning to place a barely-there kiss to the palm of his hand. settling again, your grip on mattheo’s hand tightens. sleepy eyes open to glare his way as he tries to leave.

mattheo grins again, wider this time as he laughs a little. “okay, i won’t leave. let me get more comfortable though, hm?”

his back is leaning against the couch you rest on, your knees pressing into the top of his shoulders. his left hand is slung behind him, intertwined with your own as you snore once again. mattheo is going over his potions essay as the common room slowly bursts to life.

you’re not woken up again until dinner. no one would come near you with a riddle glaring the way he was ; daring them to try and wake you.

[erwinsvow]

what if… rafe ever hit shy reader from built up anger like more of an accident? we lowk need some rafe and shy reader angst😢

this kind of slayed me.. i feel like disclosure i do not condone abuse of any sort i just think shy reader would like getting slapped around and being really roughhoused..

but if rafe reallyyy got mad about it, it might be angsty. like if she really messed up and was apologizing a ton if he actually was mad at her her heart would stop. warning rafe is rlly mean in this

being a little whiney, a little too needy and maybe excessively touchy came easily to you as rafe's girlfriend. he was always coaxing you into being more comfortable with him, and you think you'd finally reached that point.

some of your shyer tendencies seemed to have finally abandoned you when it was just the two of you. and just like you had guessed, a smaller, more possessive side of you had recently emerged from the cocoon—wanting all of rafe's attention, all the time.

it wasn't good, maybe a small part of you knew that, but it was easy to play into it, and you liked how you felt these days, more comfortable in your skin and around rafe than you had been even just a month ago.

like today. you had been a little needy all day, not wanting rafe to leave when he said he needed to go to barry's for picking something up.

"ple-ease rafe," you said it a little singsongy, serious but not that serious. "don't go. i want you to stay." it was more just wanting to hang out with him than anything else—when he left, he was usually gone for ages, and things weren't that fun without him.

"i'll be back, kid. jus' stay here, got it?"

"but you said you would-"

"kid." the way he says it, you should have realized he wasn't in the mood for you to be behaving like this.

"yesterday you said you were free all day. and i get bored-"

"yesterday i didn't know i was doin' this shit. just, please. sit tight. i'll be back."

rafe goes, and though a part of you knows you shouldn't, you blow up his phone throughout the day. really, you're not even that bored—showering and getting ready for the day and then curling up with your book after you make rafe's bed, but you played a little too far into it.

when he comes back, you should have realized something was off—but you let everything else cloud your judgement. the way rafe is never mean to you (despite the stories you had heard), how he always reassures you that he's not mad and that you didn't do anything wrong. you were led to a false belief that nothing you could do would change how rafe acts towards you.

rafe comes to sit on the bed near your feet, and you lower your book to look at him, but don't say anything. when he turns to look at you, you bring the book back up so it looks like you weren't peeking.

"c'mon. y'mad now?"

"no."

"kid, i don't have time for this-"

"you didn't answer any of my texts! or calls. and i've just been waiting here all day-" you don't know what you want—attention, quality time, an apology. you just want something other than what you're getting.

"i told you i'd be back. had shit to take care of-"

"well, i just-"

"why're you actin' like this? huh?"

you think rafe's gonna ask you the things he always does—what's wrong? did someone say something? do i need go have a talk with 'em?

but he doesn't this time.

"spoiled your ass too much and now you wanna talk back? is that it?" you're so taken aback, you think all the air has left your lungs. did rafe really think that? he stands up, so you do too, facing rafe while he paces.

"no, i just-" you're being defensive, like always. you feel like crying—you thought rafe knew you better than that, but it's also not his fault. maybe you were acting too spoiled after all, and maybe despite what he always says, he preferred you how you were when you first started dating him.

"you think m'goin out there to paint nails and gossip with barry? we had shit to do. real shit, so i can take care of you. i thought you understood that."

when you start crying, you think rafe will stop—he always does, stopping to apologize and make sure you're okay.

"tears. great. i'm tryna explain this to you. are you gonna cry everytime i get serious? huh?" it comes out a little more like a bark than a sentence—now you're scared.

"i-i'm sorry," you get out, though it's strangled in a sob and sounds more like a whisper. you don't think he heard you, but your feelings are so hurt—the rush from thinking rafe would be happy to be back home with you crashing and burning quickly, the pit in your stomach that doesn't blame him—but rather blames yourself for your behavior.

you had gotten too comfortable, too pampered, thinking that acting like this was okay—briefly you think it's not rafe's fault at all for getting mad, that it's your own fault for this happening.

you think it's best if you leave, dejectedly heading towards the door, but the second he catches you trying to walk away, he rushes over, pushing you against the door before you can even open it. your back thuds against the frame.

"rafe, you're hurting me-" you cry out, but he seems to be lost in his own anger. "please-"

"didn't say you can leave. what the hell are you doin'? you tryin' to make me mad? huh?"

"rafe, m'sorry, i-"

"actin' like this 'cause you wanna get slapped around? is that it? y'like that too much, don't you? you want me to slap you around now?"

your heart feels like it's just stopped beating. the very idea that rafe would bring up something you had just gotten comfortable with liking, only recently convinced yourself—with his help—that it wasn't wrong or dirty to like those kinds of things with him—slapping and spanking and a whole host of other things you had never even talked about, much less actually done, with anyone other than rafe, in this situation, made fat tears slip down your cheeks.

your boyfriend didn't seem like himself right now. and you were so distraught, if you were a little more clear-headed you might realize his bloodshot, dilated eyes and shaky hands. your arm hurts from where he's holding you tightly.

"rafe, please-" you get out through tears, and he lets you go a little. you slide out of his grip and stay against the door, still crying. before you can even think about it, your cheek is stinging.

he does slap you—not in the light, playful way he does when it's just the two of you somewhere or in the slightly rougher manner reserved for bed—this one is harder, everything hurting.

after it happens, you look up at rafe through glassy eyes. your fingers go to your cheek, pressing down where it was painful, like it would help it go away. but you knew deep down nothing could ever erase this memory.

you look up at rafe and he looks down at you. when you try to turn to open the door, he presses down and slams it shut before you can get out.

[astrologydayz]

ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES - NATAL CHART6🔞

LUST ASTEROID - 4386 IN SAGITTARIUS = sexually attracted 2 people from different countries/different religions/or 2 teachers/mentors. They love exploring their fantasies, & are usually not afraid 2 try everything, at least once - "u can never be 100%sure u don't like something, if you never try it" kinda mentality here. They can get turned on by people who's not afraid 2 throw a line at em/not afraid of taking the initiative! They find that sexy as hell, as they typically can be the ones initiating things! Cultured, curious, & smart people def gets them going - turned on by people who's ready2 explore their fantasies, without any inhibitions! They can be a big fan of spontaneous, wild, & free sex - can also get really turned on by hips/thighs usually<33.

LUST ASTEROID - 4386 IN VIRGO = sexually attracted 2/turned on by people younger than them/younger looking people/people who's more inexperienced than them/people they can "teach" sexually/clean looking people/clean in general. These people are usually more than willing 2 put their sexual partners fantasies/sexual desires/urges before their own - they want 2 learn how their partner's body works, & they work hard 2 get that O in, in their books for sure. They can get off simply by getting their partner off a lot of the time. These people can actually be quite freaky/kinky in bed, when they feel safe/secure enough 2 show that part of themselves.

SUN CONJUNCT/TRINE MARS IN A WOMAN'S CHART, & SHE'S INTO MEN = usually really sexually attracted 2 really manly looking men - & she can also be really sexually attracted 2 alpha men, but only the confident, secure, & kind ones - not the cocky, conceited, "my dick is bigger than yours" loser ones. MOON CONJUNCT/TRINE MARS IN A MAN'S CHART can show us a man that loves sex being full of feelings/emotions, passion, teasing, & most important of all - security. If he wants 2 cry during sex, he wants 2 do it without someone maybe laughing right in his face. Or if he has some kind of fantasy/fetish, he isn't quite comfortable with himself yet = he won't risk telling just anybody - he really needs that trust, before opening up 100% sexually. MARS CONJUNCT/TRINE/SEXTILE URANUS can be really into phone sex/getting off from videos, & pictures2📹📱💻. These people can also get sexually aroused outta nowhere, or they just suddenly feel the need 2get off, NOW. These people can love the most unused sex positions, they can even invent a sex position of their own - they like it more when they're the ones creating. JUPITER CONJUNCT/SQUARE NYMPHE ASTEROID - 875 can show a person wanting to have sex/get sexual/get off A LOT. Like, If they could = they would probably fuck their whole life away😭😂. No but fr, they can be really really fixated on gratification/sex in general.

5TH HOUSE is that passionate, fun, & "casual/dating sex". 8TH HOUSE is that deep intimate soul merging/transformative sex.

LUST ASTEROID - 4386 CONJUNCT NORTH NODE = people whose life purpose is part of exploring their sexual urges/desires, really figuring that out4 themselves, since it's not common for them with the opposition 2 South Node - it's something completely NEW 2 them! They can feel so uncomfortable with baring themselves in the beginning, but once they get going, &get comfortable = new kind of confidence unlocked baby✅. MARS CONJUNCT/TRINE/SEXTILE WILD ASTEROID - 1941 can show a person being into some really unseen/wild shit when it comes 2 sex - getting sexual/or they're just wild in bed in general/can be the type 2 not really say no2 anything, unless they're just not that into u/or REALLY just not that into whatever thing they get asked about.

VENUS ASPECTING BLACK MOON LILITH are the ones being sexually attracted 2 people from a different "class"/race/country/religion - or they can feel sexually attracted 2 people they shouldn't really feel a sexual attraction2 sometimes - "taboo shit".

MARS IN 5TH HOUSE can be a big fan of casual sex/friends with benefits arrangements/or be a big fan of having sex with date partners before the date ends/or ofc just a fan of fucking around4fun. MARS IN 8TH HOUSE do not fuck4fun, or for casualty. They need a soul/deep connection with someone 1st. They don't give out their sexual energy freely like that - u have 2 prove you're worthy 1st - whatever they deem that is. Time doesn't matter here - it's about the connection, & the intimacy - so they could easily have sex with someone on the 1st night, but there HAS 2 be some deep unexplainable connection of some kind! - Which rarely happens 4 these natives.

5TH HOUSE RULER IN 7TH HOUSE are usually the dating 2 marry type, & they're also the ones that can wait with having sex until marriage. 5TH HOUSE RULER IN 11TH HOUSE can date/get into "love affairs" with people they're friends with/with friends friends/step siblings friends/with people they collaborate with/meet online/or with people they meet through mutual shared causes! VENUS/JUNO IN 5TH HOUSE can show a person mostly dating around, not really committing 100% a lot - &when they do find somebody2 commit2 = if they break up, they're usually out dating around again pretty fast - "the best way 2 get over someone, is 2 get under someone else". NORTH NODE IN 5TH HOUSE can show that exploring one's sexuality/exploring pleasures/desires while dating/dating around is part of one's life purpose.

WOMEN WITH KLETT ASTEROID - 2199 IN VIRGO can be REALLY picky when it comes 2 who they let hit/get sexual with🙅🏼‍♀️ - That's also why they can be quite inexperienced at times. Masturbation isn't really a thing they care about either, - usually. Very into the health/cleanliness of their vagina.

MEN WITH DICK ASTEROID - 17458 IN CANCER got that safe, & secure boyfriend dick💋. U know what u get almost every time, AFTER the 1st time - so you're never left disappointed. MEN WITH DICK ASTEROID - 17458 IN CAPRICORN Can be very "clumsy" sexually/in the sexual department throughout their teenage years/young adult years - but they're usually sexually "advanced" at around 30-35 years of age💚.

MEN WITH DICK ASTEROID - 17458 IN AQUARIUS = def not a basic boyfriend dick. Something about it can be alien like - not in a bad way, daddy chill😭😂😂. But the length, the thickness, the way it stands when erected/or simply the look of it in general IS DIFFERENT. Not a basic dick, okay. Appreciate it! MEN WITH SATURN CONJUNCT/TRINE/QUINTILE DICK ASTEROID - 17458 can show them holding forever in bed💀😭😂 - Can also show that they're talented at withholding themselves from cumming!🫰🏼 Also pretty good self esteem when it comes2their dick usually.

MEN WITH SATURN SQUARE/QUINCUNX DICK ASTEROID - 17458 can show performing issues - problems with getting erections/feeling bad about their dick - self esteem issues/or issues with cumming2fast.

THANKS4READING BABE!! APPRECIATE U, ALWAYS!💜

[wednesdaynn]

birthday special

A/N: HI! omg it's my birthday and i thought i'd write a little special something from myself to you, as i'll be spending my birthday alone. So here is a little special poly!marauders smutty fic to make myself happy and not dread this awful day.

i also got a cake with the faces of multiple celebrities i love, including the OG fancasts... so

not edited, not even double checked or rewritten, i did this in 3 days and expected it to only be around 2000 words, so it might be awfull, dont blame me

This is also uploaded 9 hours after scheduled time but shhh

word count: 4388

warnings: reader who feels left out and sad on her birthday/ foursome, oral sex, penatrative sex, awkward positions and understanding lovers, dirty talk, slight overwhelming feelings so a bit of crying.

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader

It's eerily quiet in the great hall. lunch time had just passed and most of the students were spending their time outside in the great fields outside of the castle. Spring break was coming to an end and most of ‘em filled their last couple of free days soaking up the sunlight outside, a rare occurrence in scotland. except for your friends, who had been all over the place since that morning. you suppose you had been slightly jealous towards them. Every time it was someone's birthday they made sure to plan something that would interest the birthday person. 

For Lily's birthday, you had spent the evening outside after dark playing in the snow and staying up all night in the boys dorm, drinking wine and gossiping. Remus' birthday was perfect, it had fallen on a sunday, giving you guys the entire day to do nothing except to annoy Remus, plan pranks and sneak into the kitchen to eat until you guys couldn’t . For james’ you guys had planned an entire party that lasted through all the night. 

But this morning you woke up to everyone rushing around. You had thought that because it was spring break there would be a lot of time to hang out with the lot, but to your surprise, you got a kiss on the cheek from your girl friends, and your boyfriends had to get up for quidditch practice early and stayed until lunch. They wished you a happy birthday and let you unpack your presents at the breakfast table. but the celebrations were soon pushed aside for more important tasks, such as studying. 

since breakfast you hadn’t seen anyone, the first hour after breakfast spent in the common room reading a book, you had soon grown bored. you went to the library to study but found it to be too crowded with most of the students cramming for their latest exams. the hot weather tearing them down. and right before lunch you headed outside to join Hagrid in feeding the latest creature he had brought home with him. both of you working in silence. 

But lunch rolled around and you hadn't seen any of your friends. When you walked into the great hall, your boyfriends were just on their way to return to the dorms to take a long awaited shower, while Remus and Peter joined them to finish the last part of their essay. 

And you know there was an open invitation to join them. they always made sure to let you know you are welcome there, even Peter had let you know he enjoys your company, more than the boys he had said. but you didn’t want to intrude on their tasks. you already felt like you were overreacting and the boys knew you too well. you knew they’d worry about you and set their own things aside to make sure you’re okay, but you didn’t want them to do that, feeling like a burden. 

you push yourself up from the table and swing your legs over the bench. with no idea what to do the rest of the day you make your way back up to your room, checking the last couple of assignments off of your to-do list, watering the plants, stoking the fire in the room when the evening chill started to roll around and the sun had disappeared behind the clouds. you had picked up your book again, but to no avail. you were bored, extremely. and you don’t hold it against your friends, knowing that they have things to do as well since classes are starting soon again. but you had spent the entire spring break hanging out almost every day, and the one day that was important to you, they couldn’t. 

you felt left behind. turning around one more time on your bed, you let out a sigh of annoyance. Another birthday spent doing nothing, another birthday spent alone, another birthday spent depressed. you had learned your lesson the past couple of years not expecting much. but it was your last year at Hogwarts, your last year spent with friends. you had hoped this year would be different. not a quick ‘happy birthday, and we’ll see you again tonight when we are already half asleep.’ 

Was it unfair to think that way? yes, but you couldn’t care at the moment. you were feeling lonely and bored. but you picked yourself up enough to at least head  to dinner, where you were greeted with all of your friends sitting together, laughing and having fun. you walked over to Remus and sat beside him quietly, giving him a tight lipped smile while he kissed you on your temple and put his hand on your thigh. 

The entirety of dinner had been spent in silence while your friends talked. they had tried to get you to join the conversation, but your energy had been drained from the constant worrying the entire day. the hand on your thigh had left when Remus had to start eating, but the second he was done it was around your waist pulling you in closer.

"You wanna talk?” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath a comfort on your neck. you looked up at him and shook your head softly with a thin smile, not quite reaching your eyes. the thumb on your waist moves ever so slightly, rubbing comforting circles into your skin. Remus hymned and turned back to his friends, his hand not leaving your side. 

When they finished with their meal, Remus slid his arm back and grabbed your hand to bring you along with him. you walked along with your friends, every so often listening in on their conversation. you followed them up onto the moving stairs but only raised your head when you passed the door to the gryffindor common room. Remus let out a soft chuckle, his grip on your hand getting tighter. you walked after him as he dragged you up more and more stairs.

entering the top corridor the girls giggle as they open up one of the doors to an empty classroom, and Peter walks up to you, circling around until he puts his hands in front of your eyes and covers them. you let out an annoyed sigh, but smile nonetheless. Remus leads your hand further into the room where he leaves you waiting.

you tap your foot impatiently and Peter clicks his tongue in response. you hear slight rustling in the background and Marlene and Sirius whispering, although it’s louder than they probably intend to, seeing as they are bickering about godric knows what. but the noises slowly die down and someone is back at your side again holding onto your right hand. 

Peter slowly slid his hands away from your face and in front of you laid a couple of blankets with candles and a bunch of food and drinks on the floor. the tables and chairs had been pushed to the side. you look to your right seeing James and squeezing onto his hand tighter, giving him a grateful smile. He lets go of your hand and wraps it around your waist, pulling you into him. 

your eyes stare in awe at the scene in front of you. your friends standing around you with a happy smile. Mary shakes out her hands and squeals and before she can contain herself, she runs over to you and envelopes both you and James in a tight hug. 

“didn’t think we’d forget now, huh love?” you shake your head and she pulls back from your embrace holding your face in her hands. “Happy birthday sweetheart.” you give her a sweet smile and they both release, just far enough for your other friends to congratulate you. 

pulling back from all the hugs, you all make your way down to the middle of the room, filled with sweets. sitting cross-legged on the blanket across from your friends, squished between your boyfriends, you felt slightly guilty.

you couldn’t believe you thought they were capable of forgetting, or just not wanting to celebrate your birthday. or thinking they didn’t know you well enough to know how you wanted to spend your birthday. you silently scold yourself on your mistrust towards your boys and try to focus back on the scene in front of you. 

you lean into James’ embrace next to you while he puts his arm around your shoulder and try to relax into it as much as possible. “Thank you, darling,” you whisper to him. “I love it.” he just winks and holds you tighter. 

The night carries on with lots of laughter while you stuff your mouths with a bunch of food and the alcohol, which you can only assume Sirius and Mary took care of. it was getting late and everyone was relatively tipsy, you all decided it was best to head up back to bed. standing up from Sirius’ lap, all of you stumbled your way back down all the stairs and into the common room, getting dirty looks from the paintings. He held onto your waist tightly as you walked up towards the boys’ dormitory. 

taking off your shoes next to the door, you walk over to the fireplace in the centre of the room, stoking the fire with a spell, instantly warming the room. You watch as you see your boys make their way over to the bathroom individually. Coming out with pyjamas and brushed teeth, the padding of their socked feet towards their beds. You quickly ascend to the bathroom yourself, the stressful day had made you quite tired, and the slight state of drunkenness you were in didn’t help either. 

You quickly took off your makeup and brushed out your hair and teeth. Getting out of your clothes and putting on your pyjamas. You lean your head down and take a sip of water from the faucet and make your way back to their dormitory. Getting into Remus' bed you sit cross legged on the cover. 

“I’m sorry if i acted odd tonight, i loved what you guys did for me, honestly. It was the best birthday.” you say softly. Sirius's face contorts into one of confusion and he cocks his head up towards you. “What are you talking about, love?” James crosses over from his bed to yours and leans against the bedpost, his arms crossed on his chest. 

“You were fine sweetheart, but if something is bothering you, you know you can always talk about it with us right?” you nod and give James a soft smile. Remus pats your thigh. 

“Come’ere.”  you climb up higher on the bed and throw your leg over his lap, making eye contact with your lover. He gives you a soft peck on your forehead and his thumb draws circles into your waist. You feel a dip in the mattress behind you and feel Sirius his hand brush the hair away from your neck and shoulder, leaving soft peck along the neckline of your pyjama shirt. You lean into their embrace and let out a soft sigh.

You see James get on the bed on the other side of you and look over at him. “You want us to take care of you? Or do you just want to cuddle until we fall asleep?” you’re already letting go of your inhibitions while in the hold of your boyfriends, and you know they will take care of you. 

“Take care of me please.” you let out softly, looking up at him with sweet eyes. He gives you an adorning smile and a kiss on the cheek. 

Remus his hands slowly slip under your shirt, rubbing the skin underneath. He spreads his hands across your back, “lean back for me sweetheart.” Sirius whispers in your ear as his lips ghost across your jawline. You look at Remus and he nods at you, he holds you as you lean back into Sirius his arms, your shoulders resting on his chest. 

Sirius his hands move down towards the hem of your shirt and slowly inches it upwards. His knuckles grazing your skin, leaving behind goosebumps as his cold hands touch you. He moves until he reached the underside of your boobs. 

“Can i, love?” you nod as best as you can. He lifts the shirt over your breasts and skims his hands over them, brushing along your nipples and pinching them slightly. You let out a soft sigh at the contact and look away from his movements and make eye contact with Remus who winks at you. He gestures over at James to get closer and you feel James moving on the bed as he leans down on your level.

He softly brushes some stray hairs away from your face and leans in closer kissing your lips softly. You fully let go in the embrace of your lovers doting on you and your body. The kiss quickly turns a lot more fierce and you realise in this position both of your bodies have to contort to kiss properly, so James makes his way down your body, jaw, neck, clavicle bones, and just under your shirt where Sirius pulls his hands away to give James free reign to pleasure you. 

James leaves wet kisses all on your breast, and soft bites around your nipples leaving slight marks all over your chest. He finally wraps his lips around your left nipple and sucks lightly. You let out a moan at his administration and he groans around your nipples, heat flows down your body. 

Sweat starts to form on your forehead and you notice how much of a strain your body is being put on being in this position. You move your hand to tug on Remus' arms.

“You like how he’s making you feel darling?” you nod but a slight grimace pulls at your face. “This position, baby, it’s slightly uncomfortable, I'm sorry.” you apologise to them. Sirius tuts behind you and moves his hands behind your shoulder blades to give you some elevation to get up properly. 

Being sat back on Remus' lap, he slowly lifts you up from off of his lap and moves you next to him on the bed, the spot James was previously occupying. Sitting up on the bed you roll your shoulder around, letting the tight spots ease. You remove your shirt entirely from your body and Sirius softly pushes at your sternum, easing you onto your back, your head resting on the pillows. 

James resumes his former position, leaning over you and softly kissing your chest and upwards, now finally having the space to kiss your neck and leave marks all over. Sirius, who is still sitting between your legs, ghosts his hands across your stomach and reaches the waistband of your pyjama pants. He hooks his fingers underneath the band and glides them across your waist, teasing you. 

You panting beneath them, wishing they would just do more. Having 3 boyfriends and still not getting where you need them seems pathetic, but Remus just finds your frustrations comical and sweet. He puts his hand on your forehead and strokes the top of your head. 

Sirius his hands finally make their way down when he pulls down your pants and underwear at the same time, helping you lift your hips and pulling them all the way down your legs and throwing them next to the bed. You have half a mind to tell him it’s gross to leave clothes lying on the floor, but James his lips are back on your nipples and thinking straight with them is just too difficult. 

He brushes his hands on your calves, massaging them and pushing them up, leaving your knees bent. You feel Remus’ hands skim across your stomach downwards, a ghost of a touch on your mound leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“Please, Rem?” with the comforting touch of Sirius’ hands on your calves, soothing you into a deeper rest, you can’t help but beg for Remus to touch you. 

“Since it’s your birthday, sweetheart, I'll go easy on you.�� His voice sounds rough, but he complies immediately. His middle finger and ring finger skim over your slit collecting wetness from your core and he circles your clit with them. You whine, the touch of James his lips and teeth on your nipple and Remus his light circular movements on your bundle of nerves, makes you set alight. 

They’re barely doing anything, but it’s making you let out all sorts of noises you’ll probably be embarrassed about tomorrow, but for now you couldn’t care, knowing it only eggs your partners on further. 

Remus his fingers slowly move down to your hole circling it, teasing it, before finally pushing on finger in slowly. He eases it into you, taking his time, moving it in and out slowly. He watches your face intently. Making sure to catch any noise you let out, and face you make and any sign of unease. He sees your hands grab onto the blanket and takes it as his queue to add a second finger. 

No matter how many times the four of you have sex, the stretch never gets any easier. You scrunch your face up slightly. “Am i good to continue, or do you need a second?” he asks, and you have half a mind to tell him to shut up and continue, but you find it so endearing how caring he still is. “You’re good to continue, baby, was just a pinch.” he nods and continues pushing into you, but this time at a much slower pace, taking extra caution. 

Once he feels you’re rightly accommodated to the stretch, he starts pumping in slowly again. Taking his time dragging his fingers against your walls, your pussy quivering around his fingers. You feel every drag with his slow pace, the way he barely misses your g-spot. 

Your hand curls around his wrist and he gives you a smirk. “You want more, baby?” he hymns at you.  You just nod to the best of your ability. He increases his pace, only ever so slightly making you whine. You liked when he teased, but it was god damn frustrating. 

Your nails scratch at his wrist and pull at his hand hoping to speed it up even more, but Remus is relentless in giving you what you want. He makes a tsks noise, hoping to tell you off, but he sees the desperate look on your face and he almost gives in.

“Be good for me baby, and you’ll get what you want.” you nodded fervently at him. James leaves a peck on your cheek and makes his way over to your lips, kissing you with renowned vigour. Tongue sliding in your mouth. 

You feel the butterflies in your stomach making rounds at the slow pace, not enough to make you cum, but it leaves you teetering on the edge. Sirius moves closer to you, your legs on either side of his hips. He slowly takes off his shirt, making it a show for you. He leans down to give a kiss on your knee and pushes himself down onto the bed, laying down on his stomach in between you. 

Remus makes a move to take his fingers out of you, but the hand that’s on his wrist holds him there. 

“Sweetheart, let go, Sirius wants to make you feel good, don’t you wanna cum?” he asks in such an endearing voice. You moan into James’ mouth and he takes it as a queue to lean back and observe. You whine for him, wanting to feel the taste of his lips back on your once more, but he just gives you a sympathetic smile and mouths an apology at you. 

Sirius begins by slowly kissing up and down the inside of your thigh. He sucks onto the skin leaving marks behind, maroons and reds splotched all over your legs, small indentations of bite marks etched into your skin. He kisses the juncture between your thigh and mound and puts his thumbs onto your vulva.

His thumbs spread your lips apart and he lets out a groan at the sight, wetness covering your entire pussy, your hole quivering from the need to cum. You feel a warmth spread over your face all the way down to your chest. He latches his lips onto your clit, sucking on it harshly. 

“Holy fuck.” he hums around your bundle of nerves making electricity shoot up. He agrees with your sentiment. You were on edge form cumming the whole time Remus was fingering you, and this just shoots you right over the edge. Your hands make their way downwards, grabbing onto Sirius his long hair and pulling, hard. He lets out a moan at the roughness and scrapes his teeth against your clit. You give a short warning before your orgasm takes full control. You scratch at his scalp as you pull, as Sirius pulls you through the afterwaves of your orgasm. You feel your chest going up and down, heaving. 

Sirius gives a loving pat on your inner thigh before moving up again, and getting off of the bed, standing next to James on the left side of the bed. You look over at them and you feel Remus, who is still sitting beside you on the bed, take your hand and grab onto it. 

James scurries out of his clothes, first his shirt, revealing his toned chest from quidditch. Then his pyjama pants. You see Sirius next to him gulp as James’ cock springs up. James his face contorts into a look of proudness. A smirk plastered onto his face. He resumes his movements and gets onto the bed taking Sirius his former position between your legs. He spits onto the palm of his hand and strokes his cock slowly. 

“You ready, doll?” he asks you before inching closer. You let out a soft please and he strokes his cock up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness before slowly pressing into you. He inches in closer and closer, taking his time with you, letting you get adjusted to the stretch of his cock. 

You breathe in deeply, in through your nose, out through your mouth. Taking the time to enjoy the moment and feel the intimacy with your lovers. Remus who is feeling up your breasts, encompassing them with his hands and squeezing them, pinching your nipples and rolling them between his thumb. 

Sirius is still by your side, holding your hand and stroking his thumb up and comforting you. His other hand pushing away fly hairs and stroking your head, creating a soft moment between you both. Looking up at him, you can see the love and adoration in his eyes and he gives you a sweet smile. 

James’ hands rest on your waist, pressing into the skin there, you know he’s trying to hold himself back, but he’s trying to be considerate, your sweet boy. 

“It’s okay James, please.” you give him an encouraging nod and he stares at you for a while, trying to see if you are truly okay. Finding no resistance, he pushes further in almost bottoming out inside of you. He inches out slowly and pushes back in with careful intention, making sure to make you feel every drag slide against your walls. Hearing the lewd sounds the two of you make, feeling your hole contract around him. 

You both let out a sigh of relief at the sensation followed by a deep moan. He makes sure to hit you deep and slowly, dragging the sensations out. All that you feel, everything you feel coursing through your body is love. Undevoted love. Enveloped by your boyfriends, taking care of you in the way that you need. 

It encompasses your very being and you feel yourself tune out everything around you except for the feeling of safety, the pleasure of their comfort. Peace. You know they see it, see how you’re feeling, or maybe they even feel it themselves, because Sirius is squeezing tighter around your hand and Remus gives intentional soft strokes around your breast. It makes you want to cry and release every emotion you’ve felt for a while. Wanting to cry out in pure ecstasy. 

“It’s okay, you’re safe with us.” Remus tells you and you let a single tear drop when you squeeze your eyes shut. A silent ‘fuck’ leaves your mouth and your eyebrows scrunch together. They just hold you closer.

James picks up his pace slightly, his thumb moving to your clit, rolling circles on it with the pad of his finger, increasing the pleasure that shoots through your body. 

He digs his knees deeper into the mattress, laying the top of his feet flat on the bed and shifting his hips just ever so slightly, lowering them closer to the bed and his cock drags against your walls deliciously. 

James feels all his nerves being set on fire, feeling the tightening of your walls around him, the wetness making it so easy to glide in, and he feels the tip of his cock hit that spongy spot inside of you. Making you keen,

You lean your head back, releasing a loud moan. Your eyes shoot open and you grab at the bedsheet. Curling your toes and enclosing your thighs around James’ hips. You feel the familiar flare in the bottom of your stomach, the butterflies fluttering around. 

“Baby? Babes, I'm gonna cum, please.” you beg of James and he keeps repeatedly hitting your g-spot, keeping up the pace as before and tightening the circles he makes around your clit. He lets out a high pitched whine and looks down at where your bodies are connected, seeing your arousal around his cock, your hole pulsing around him. The stickiness on his thumb. 

Your breath hitches, Remus pinches your nipple, Sirius gives you a sweet kiss on your forehead and the soft strokes of James gives you everything you need to orgasm again. You squeeze tightly around James his cock and James hisses at the constriction, cumming just after you. He pumps in just a little bit longer, riding out both of your orgasms, until both of you become too sensitive. 

“You did so well darling, so beautiful for us, happy birthday baby.” 

(Down below my bday cake cuz y’all need to see it)

[thebiggerbear]

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." - Dean Winchester Prompt Response

Summary: You and Dean refuse to speak to one another after an argument and Sam has finally had enough.

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I loved writing this but I always love it when it comes to Dean. 😊 And of course, I couldn't resist when it came to Sam in the end. Brothers, gotta love 'em. ;)

Thank you to my beta @rieleatiel for her services. You rock, girl!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Female!Huntress!Reader

Warnings: mentions of implied sex

Word Count: 1449

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Tom version ✨ CJ version ✨ Rachel version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Leah version ✨ Alec version

Dean snuck a glance at you only to quickly look away when you looked up from your lore book. In return, you snuck a peek at him but pretended you were looking at something else when he lifted his head from one of the hunter’s journals he’d found in storage. 

Sam had watched this infuriating dance happen at least twelve times by now and it was getting on his last nerve. At first, he thought it was hopeful. Then heartbreaking. Now it was just damn aggravating, more so because he knew his older brother was being his usual stubborn self. All he needed to do was come out and apologize already, and Dean knew that yet still refused to budge an inch.

You and Dean had gotten into an argument during the last hunt. He’d been upset that you had taken on three vamps by yourself—something you had done back in your high school days, along with killing other creepy things that slithered out of the dark. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, which you had proven multiple times, and you knew when to ask for help. Dean didn’t want to hear it, claiming you could have been killed had he and Sam not been close by. You both dug in your heels no matter what Sam said, and you two were still at an impasse, giving each other the silent treatment. Still, that didn’t stop the longing glances Dean gave you when you weren’t looking, or the sad looks you gave him when he was none the wiser. It was driving Sam nuts. He had never met two people who were so stubborn—aside from his parents, of course—and now that he thought about it, stubborn or not, you and Dean were well-suited for one another.

“You know,” Sam broke the silence. “At some point, you two are going to have to talk to each other again.”

Dean shot him a surreptitious glare. You had no problem offering a withering glare of your own.

“Look,” Sam continued. “Y/N is right, she can take care of herself and if she needs our help, she’ll say something.” At your triumphant smile, Dean’s gaze darkened.

“No one asked you to butt in, Sammy,” he warned.

Sam nearly rolled his eyes. “If I don’t, this won’t get resolved because you both are too hard-headed to make the first move. Y/N,” Your eyes darted over to him. “My idiot brother won’t say it but the reason he got upset is because he’s scared.”

Dean’s free hand clenched into a fist and he gave a subtle shake of his head. Sam ignored him and continued, “He’s scared something is going to happen to you and he won’t be there to stop it. That’s why he freaked out that night. He’s not trying to tell you what to do or be a controlling jerk. He just wants you to be safe, that’s all.”

You bit your lip and turned your attention to Dean, who suddenly seemed very interested in the book in his lap. “Is that true?”

After a moment, he ground out, “Yeah. It’s true.”

You stood up, letting the book in your own lap fall to the ground with a heavy thud, and made your way over to Dean. You ripped the book out of his hands, tossed it to the floor, ignored Sam’s irritation at your carelessness with such old tomes, and crawled into Dean’s lap, his hands instantly coming around you to support you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned down to kiss him. You felt him immediately begin to relax under your touch and only when his lips were completely pliant and moving with yours did you pull back, staring into his green eyes.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me that?”

He slid his hand up your back and to your hair, tenderly rubbing the strands between his fingers. “I don’t know. I just… That vamp had you in a hold and it scared the crap out of me when I couldn’t reach you fast enough. What if he had gotten more of a drop on you? What if—”

You gently placed your fingers against his lips, stopping him from finishing that question. “He didn’t. I killed my first vamp at 12, took out my first nest when I was 16. Hunting’s in my blood just as much as it is yours. I know what I’m doing.” You ran your fingers through his hair reassuringly, scratching at his scalp, and watched him lean into the touch. “But if you want, we can talk about it. We’ll come up with a plan that makes you feel better and works for both of us. Okay?”

He gave you a dopey smile that melted your heart. The magic touch had worked; the tension from before had finally lifted. “Okay, baby. Sounds good to me.”

You kissed him again, this time with a little more passion. “You know what else sounds good?” You murmured to his lips when you both needed a breath.

Those green eyes you loved so much immediately lit with an all-too familiar fire. “Do tell.”

You leaned in and whispered your plan into his ear, making sure Sam wouldn’t overhear. By the time you pulled back, he was grinning like crazy. Clearing his throat, he helped you off of his lap and back onto your feet as you both turned to face Sam, a mischievous smirk fighting its way onto your face. You knew that would get him going.

“Actually, I just remembered I left the…stove on in the kitchen. And Y/N here has to go call Jody to…give her an update on the case and how it’s going.”

Sam gave you both a look; he wasn’t buying it. You turned and gave the same look to Dean. He really hadn’t come up with anything better than that? “I hate you.”

“You have a weird way of showing that,” he teased, subtly rubbing up against you and smirking. This man was so lucky you loved him.

You shook your head and looked away, your cheeks growing hot. The bastard was turning you on even more and he knew it. It’d been almost two weeks, the longest you’d gone without since — well, since meeting him.

Sam was the one to clear his throat this time. “Whatever. Happy you both are talking to one another again. Now, go do what you’re going to do but just not in front of me, please. Okay? And you’re welcome.”

Dean shot Sam a look but he was too happy to care what Sam was intimating about his being the one who settled things between the two of you. He gave his younger brother a wide smile. “If you need us, we’ll be…” He trailed off, gesturing to the hallway that led to the rooms.

“Oh my God,” you muttered in embarrassment as you grabbed his hand and pulled him after you.

“Oh, hey!” Sam yelled. “Keep out of my room this time, Dean. I mean it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean called back.

You had just turned the corner when Dean immediately had you up against the wall, kissing you passionately and picking you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. When you pulled back for air, your brow furrowed in confusion at seeing Dean move past his door. “Dean,” you panted. “Where are you going? You just passed your room.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“Okay, then where are you taking me?”

His smirk was so wicked you knew what the answer was before he said it. “Sammy’s room.”

“Dean, are you kidding me? No!”

“Relax, we won’t be in there long.”

“You know how upset he was last time and he just said—”

Dean came to a stop and kissed the crap out of you, effectively silencing you. You may have been a little dazed when he finally let you get some air. “He’s got the better bed and I want the very best for you, baby.” He then gave you a salacious smirk and leaned in. “Plus I know how much you love that headboard.”

He waggled his eyebrows at you as certain memories replayed in your mind. You were able to hold onto that headboard for a long time, it held you up well, and same for Dean…oh shit. Sorry, Sam.

“What are you waiting for?” You bit out impatiently, slipping your tongue into his mouth and swallowing his chuckle. As he walked you into Sam’s room, shutting and locking the door behind him, you made a mental note to later google the hell out of this headboard and find one for Dean’s bed.

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[princessbrunette]

imagine rafe trying to teach you a little bit of self defense but you just get turned on by him manhandling you and he’s just tsking at you underneath him with your hands pinned above your head lowly whispering “you gotta pay attention kid, there’s bad men out there… gotta know how’t stop em from from thinking they can do whatever they want” and she’d get all blushy and squirming just looking at him all doe eyed like “You can do what ever you want 🥺🥺🩷” He loves how submissive you are !!!!

i love this idea sm but when i started writing it kinda turned into something else ??? kinda dubcon but that’s just how he plays sometimes. reader is clearly wanting it !

ೀ 🍨 ‧ ˚ 🎀 ⊹˚. ♡

rafe was in one of his moods. the odd moods he gets in where he’s suddenly motivated to fix things, handle business, be ‘proactive’ as he puts it. there was no business to handle that day, so he turned his attention to you — deciding now of all times was the time to teach you how to defend yourself.

the idea had sprung to him when he walked into the room and stared you down, coming to the harrowing realisation that you hadn’t even noticed his presence, too engrossed in the book in your grasp. he creeps closer, and you don’t even blink. he edges behind you, and notes the way he could grab you into a headlock if he wanted, or cover your mouth, hell — he could snap your neck. you’d never see it coming.

of course, he didn’t want to ever hurt you — which is why he decided to stage an impromptu lesson. that gets you to where you end up, pinned to the ground beneath him.

“ow, rafe.” you frown wiggling your wrist from his grip until he lets it free with a shake of his head. you weren’t too happy about him stealing you away from your time of relaxation with your book — but you would never give up the opportunity to have your boyfriends hands on you. you thought things would have played out a little more… fun.

“see, you — you did it again. if i put my hand here, what are you gonna do, huh? what’d i tell you?” he raises his eyebrows, prompting a response.

“uhh, bite it?” you giggle, making him sit up on his knees, jaw ticking in frustration.

“you know i’m tryna save your life here, kid. someone comes up to you and grabs you, you’re screwed, ‘cos you don’t know how to protect yourself. i’m not always gonna be around to fight people off okay?”

“why not?” you whine, pressing a socked foot against his chest from where you lay. he wraps a hand gently around your ankle and brings it down, expression displaying his frustration.

“because i am not with you 24 hours a day, alright? m’not playing around here. you gonna listen?” he nudges your thigh with his own and you huff, head moving with a noncommittal nod. “okay.” he brings his body down onto yours, pinning you down with it. he had to be doing this on purpose. “alright, flip me on my back. go.”

you can’t help yourself, you wrap your legs around his waist and bring his crotch flush against yours with a little giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. he presses his lips together, staring at you blankly from his incredibly close proximity and stays silent until your childish laughs die down. you think he’s going to remove himself, lecture you and walk off for a little while— but he continues to stare, even when you wriggle beneath him, legs split around his body — mound of your cunt pressing up against his bulge.

“you think this is some kinda joke huh?” he asks quietly, and the smile starts to melt off your face. “like — like i’m just doin’ this shit for fun.” he glares, and now your hearts pounding because you only wanted to be close to him!

“no…” you mewl, brows knitted but it’s too late. he pushes himself up on his knees again, looking down on you.

“you know i’m real nice to you. there’s bad men out there that’ll really rough you up. maybe… maybe i should give you a taste of that, huh? show you what i’m protecting you from.”

you go to argue, tell him you’ll listen — but he slides a leg under yours and in one movement flips you so you’re suddenly laying on your front, ass a little raised. he leans over you, collecting your wrists with one hand and pins them down. “nah, go ahead. try and fight me off baby. see if you can.” he speaks eerily calmly and you wriggle, realising you’re totally pinned beneath his weight with no escape. “yeah, that shits scary huh? can’t get out.” he nods and you let out a little cry.

“okay, rafe c’mon!”

“nah, you think this is a game so i’m gonna show you just how fuckin’ real this is a’ight?” he tucks his free hand into your pyjama shorts and begins to yank them down. you hate how your heart feels like it’s in your throat and yet your cunt throbs and your back arches from muscle memory. “better wise up, sweetheart— ‘cos i don’t think you’re getting out of this.” he gives your ass cheek a firm smack, watching the fat of it recoil beneath the touch and you whine.

“teach me! rafe you can teach me, please!” you pout, craning round to look at him. his lip is curled into a malicious smirk, head shaking in disapproval.

“yeah, you know you’re just too late. gonna have to learn your lesson now, alright? remember this shit.”

ೀ 🍨 ‧ ˚ 🎀 ⊹˚. ♡

[anmaje]

I have so many Thoughts about S&co Sherlock Holmes, so have my headcanons:

- He was raised, at least partially, by his grandparents. Maybe by the french, maternal grandmother(NAVA). His oldtimey poshness is wonderful, but I can only explain it with some oldmoney, eccentric pensionist giving him a weirdly free, yet emotionally constipated upbringing.

- The houseplants of 221b and a are in pristine health because of him.

- He doesn't have any actual diagnoses. This is basically canon, but I'm putting it on here anyways. He doesn't, but Mycroft does. It's the classic instance of the more "severe case" or "more affected" sibling getting the help they need. And the symptoms of the other "less affected" sibling are overlooked. He also self medicates, which makes sense if he doesn't have access to prescription meds.

- He only wears clothes that fit. Oversized or skinny styles are the inventions of Satan himself. They're straight from sensory hell, and Sherlock agrees with me. He's very picky with fabrics too, preferring natural to synthetic. He detests wool against his skin though, so he wears tights, or long underwear beneath wool trousers in winter. He also gets a lot of clothes adjusted or made by a tailor(Who also did his grandparent's tailoring).

- He shaves his legs and armpits aswell as his face every day.

- If you ask him about his sexuality/gender identity you'll get a "that's none of your business". If John asked him, he'd get a "labels limit the vast expanse of the human experience". In truth he doesn't fucking know, it's weird and muddy, like the rest of his identity. He's read every book on the subject, watched so much porn, had a lot of one night stands, but ultimately comes up with: sex and relationships get in the way of my work, so I'll ignore that. Gender is a social construct, so I get to decide what a man is. And I'm queer, I guess.

- Dogperson

- He plays Mendelsohn for John, like in the canon. Not because John has asked him to(John doesn't know who Mendelsohn is), but because he's made a careful study to garner John's reaction to different composers. He's been doing the same with Mariana, and is slowly but surely honing in on Mozart. Both of these composers bore him, but he doesn't care when it's for his friends <3

- Despite not liking to dance (solitary cyclist part 2), he's very good! He was forced to do ballet and ballroom dancing as a kid. He's mustering up the courage to ask Mariana to dance salsa with him on their next pub escapade, but he always puts it off.

-FRECKLES. A LOT OF 'EM.

[frnchgirls]

warnings: 18+, long!, filth with no plot, benny is kind of toxic!, and rough :]

you're getting ready to meet the vandals at the bar with benny when he walks in on you finalizing your work with a spritz of perfume. "well, isn't that just cute." he comments, leaning against the doorframe before adding, "gimme a spin." and who are you to deny him that? so, you stand from your vanity, twirling so your boyfriend can see every inch of you and your outfit.

benny hums, looking you up and down as he pushes off the doorframe and comes closer. "what's this? you do somethin' new with your hair?" he asks, tugging at a cherry-colored ribbon that holds one of your pigtails together. "yeah, d'ya like it?" you reply, blinking up at him expectantly. he just scoffs at your feigned innocence, backing you into the foot of your bed.

"who's this all for, hm? you tryin' to impress someone? am i not givin' ya enough attention?" he questions, and you're already shaking your head before he's finished speaking. it's not enough to appease him. not even close. "get on your knees." benny orders, and you don't really have much of a choice. he sticks a thumb in your mouth when you comply, now at eye-level with the front of his jeans. "which one of them did ya dress up for? tell me."

"no one, benny. i swear. it's all for you." you plead, the pad of his thumb smearing spit across your cheek. "for me?" he taunts, smirking, "the only thing you're gettin' from me by going out lookin' like that, is a punishment." benny explains, unzipping his jeans to let his cock spring free from the confines of his boxers. you lock eyes with the tip, red as the ribbons in your hair and already leaking pre-cum. "guess i'd better teach ya a lesson, so you don't go makin' this mistake again." he punctuates by slapping his dick against the side of your face.

benny coaxes your mouth open, one hand on your jaw and the other guiding himself past your lips. "didn't know my girl was such a stupid fuckin' slut." he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut when he hits the back of your throat. "you wanted the guys to stare at ya, i just know it. wanted 'em to drag you to the bathroom so they could push your panties to the side and pound your little pussy right then and there." he teases, hands braced against the mattress as he slowly thrusts in and out of your mouth.

you try to protest, groaning around his cock to convince him that no, you really weren't thinking about the other vandals. but how's benny supposed to believe you when his words have you clenching around nothing, your manicured nails digging into your thighs? he laughs when he notices. he can read you like a book. "you're a whore and you're lyin' about it. fuck, what am i gonna do with you?" he spits, clenching his teeth as he moves his hands from the bed to the back of your head, gently forcing you down on him.

"so fuckin' insatiable. one dick isn't enough, just gotta have more, more, more. somethin' in every hole, isn't that right?" benny mocks, watching as you sputter and gag helplessly on his cock. the exertion makes you cry a little, tears ruining the eyeliner you so meticulously put on just minutes before. and god, he just loves it. "oh, angel baby, you're cryin'? is it cause i'm chokin' ya or is it cause you're achin' to get fucked? use your words." he commands but doesn't pull away to give you the chance.

he's already so close, just a little longer and he'll be spilling all over your tongue. desperation fuels his actions as he takes a pigtail in each hand, using them like handles to give him more leverage as he fucks your face. "that's it, just need a reminder of who you belong to, is all. maybe now you'll stop moanin' danny's name in your fuckin' sleep." benny sneers. the thought of your sex dream from a few nights ago is all it takes to push him over the edge. his panting is heavy as he holds you against him, your nose pressed into the nest of hair at the base of his cock while he spurts down your throat.

he doesn't even have to tell you to swallow, he can already feel your throat constricting around him. he grins as he finally lets you go, a string of saliva keeping the two of you connected when you pull away and finally take a much-needed breath. you can't speak. hell, you can't even think, and maybe that was benny's plan all along. you just look up at him dumbly, sniffling as the last tear streams down your messy face.

benny stands there, grip on your cheeks smushing your lips into a pout as he hums in thought. "get on the bed f'me, sweetheart." he suggests, breaking the silence, and you're quick to give him a look of confusion. "you don't think we're goin' out now, do ya? what else are we gonna do to pass the time?" he explains, a little too smug as he pulls you to your feet.

he'll tell you that he thinks you haven't quite learned your lesson. but at some point, you'll realize that benny secretly likes the thought of you with the other guys much more than he's letting on.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 9

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You don’t go straight home. You don’t want to upset your mom. So, you wander the suburbs, walking around cul-de-sacs, some you’ve never been down, and circling around the avenues. You pass mothers and fathers with strollers and children running and yelling on green lawns. It’s as if you’re walking through a utopia, floating by like a cursed wraith. 

You glance down at the book in your hand. Maybe you should try some lighter reading. Your mind tends to go to dark places. 

When at last you let yourself go back to the house, you do so cautiously. You don’t see Steve or your mom. As you come to the front door, you wonder if you should knock. You quietly let yourself in, gently closing the door as you stand on the mat. You leave your shoes on the low rack and tiptoe down the hall. Your mom can’t be mad if she doesn’t know you’re there. 

“Hey, kiddo,” Steve’s voice as you tripping over your own feet. You turn to the archway as you pass and peer in. Your mother’s in her recliner, her eyes closed. Is she sleeping? You watch her warily. “How was your walk?” 

“Um,” you blink and shrug, “fine.” 

He stands by the window, his hand on the wall beside it. Did he see you come up? You hadn’t noticed him behind the curtain. 

“Breakfast for you in the oven. Won’t be very warm but if it’s no good, I can start a new batch,” he offers. 

“Don’t bother with all that,” your mother grumbles and shifts in her chair, groaning as she shakily rubs her cheek. Her eyes open only slightly. “She can warm ‘em up.” 

“Always better fresh,” Steve stands straight and faces you fully. 

“Thanks.” 

You leave them with the single word. You feel like an intruder. You stop by your bedroom and hover in indecision. You just want to hide but you would hate to be rude. Steve went to all that trouble and you know, even as your mother says he’s already done too much, she’d be even more upset if you wasted his effort. 

You put your book on the foot of your bed and go down to the kitchen. You take out the pancakes, content enough to have them cold. There’s a bottle of real maple syrup. Steve must’ve supplied that; you can’t afford the pure stuff. You don’t use very much, mindful of the expense of the sugary nectar. 

You grab cutlery and bring the plate to the table. You sit alone. You can hear the hum of the ceiling fan from the front room and the dulcet song of birds floating in through the windows. Steve’s low tone rolls through the din but you can’t make out his words. You mother answers his with short mutters. She’s not having a very good day. You're surprised he stayed this long. 

The pancakes are good, even at room temperature. They’re fluffy and taste richer than the frozen ones you get a bargain on. Is that blueberry too? With each bite, your hunger clenches your stomach tighter, mulching down the food greedily. When you finish, your body growls and aches. 

You wash off your plate and put it in the tray. The lull of the house thickens as you pad down to your room. You slow as you near the door frame. Had you closed it? You can’t recall. 

You turn into the room and let out a noise of surprise. Steve looks over as he stands over the folding table, his hand on your sketchbook, a page half-turned. Your heart drops as you clasp your hands together. 

“Sorry, er, didn’t mean to...” he rescinds his hand and lets the page flutter down, “It was open and...” you don’t know whether he means the door or the book. “You’re really talented.” 

Your forehead crinkles and you charge towards him. You step around him and shut the book, swiping it up. He leans back on his heel. 

“I didn’t... I wasn’t trying to...” he sputters, “I just wanted to pass something by you.” 

You hug your sketchbook at you face him. You stare at this chest. You feel violated. Not just that he’s in your space but he touched your stuff. The one thing that’s really yours; your drawings. 

“Me and your mom were talking, you know, and she said it would be good for you to get out, maybe make some extra money,” he explains, “and I’ll be around so you won’t need to worry about her so much.” 

You frown. You and your mother have had this talk a billion times. Get off your ass and get a job. It’s not like you haven’t tried. 

“So, I got some work you can do. Like I said, I gotta get that pool open,” he continues, “and there’s little things around the house. You got a good hand so maybe some painting here and there.” 

You push your shoulders up. You don’t think you can say no, especially if he’s already said as much to your mom. You half-suspect this is her doing. 

“Complementary milkshakes?” He offers breezily. 

You’re quiet. You have no choice. You know as much. 

“You know,” he softens his tone, “if I’m gonna... hang around with your mom, we should get to know each other. It’s a good opportunity for us.” 

“Fine,” you answer. 

“Fine? So that’s a yes?” He asks. 

You close your eyes and flick them open, “yes.” 

“Great. Well, when can you start? How about tomorrow? Supposed to be another sunny day.” 

“Okay,” you agree, “tomorrow.” 

He doesn’t move. You want him to leave. The conversation is over. He got what he wants and your mom too. He’ll pay you dimes to clean the pool and your mom will reap the profit. 

“You know, I draw a little too,” he points to your sketchbook, “maybe if we have time tomorrow, I can show you.” 

“Maybe,” you mutter. 

“Ah, uh,” he chuckles bashfully and rubs his neck, “right, I'm in your way. Well, er, I’ll leave ya be.” He turns and struts to the door. He stops just inside the frame and looks back, “oh, how were the pancakes?” 

You take a breath and stay staring at the wall, “good.” 

“Great, did you have some of the syrup? It’s Canadian.” 

“Yeah,” you turn and tuck your sketchbook into your dresser draw. “Thanks.” 

“No problem, sweetie,” he taps the wall and the door closes with a click. 

You sit on your bed and hunch over to hold your head. It’s still heavy from the night before and now you’re even more tired than before. You don’t know if it’s from being out in the sun or all the walking you did, but your eyelids feel dry and seem to cling with each blink. You yawn and bring your legs up, curling your body up near the edge of the bed. 

You know you shouldn’t sleep in the middle of the day, but you just can’t help yourself. 

🏠

You wake up in the haze of the late afternoon. Your eyes hurt and your limbs are achy. You lay on your back as the curtains stir with the lazy breeze. You look over to find them open but you don’t remember pulling them apart. You barely remember anything past your awkward morning stroll. 

It takes you a while to push through the stiffness. You never sleep on your back; it leaves it racked and your ribcage hurts. As you stand, you notice the door. It’s slightly open. 

You get up and go to it, pull it inch by inch. The house is quiet but for a soft rumble, rhythmic and rocky. You putter down the hall and look into the front room. Your mom’s asleep in her chair. She’s almost peaceful as she snores in the recliner. 

The scene strikes you as odd, almost dreamlike. Your mom’s never been much of a napper. In fact, she always nagged you about the habit. You think of waking her but think better of it. She won’t be happy to be awoken, even if she might be irritated later to know she slept away the day. 

Steve is gone. You search each room to be sure then go to the kitchen. It’s clean and everything is put away, even the dishes you left in the tray. The large bottle of syrup is gone as well. 

You mutter and go back to your room. Another soft wind drifts in. You stumble over to your bed and fall back onto it. You yawn again. Gosh, you’re so tired. 

[peachsukii]

I wanted to continue off of last week’s Softie Sunday story about the Bakugo family bookstore. 🥰 I know it’s a liiiittle late but I finally got around to writing this out today.

『 ♡ bookstore owner!bakugo x fem!reader 』

content ; no quirks, mentions of children (two daughters: 16 and 10), Bakugo & reader are married

“So…there’s somethin’ I wanna tell ya,” your eldest daughter starts, pausing to await your reactions. Katsuki quirks an eyebrow at her and glances your way, signaling for you to take the reins.

“Sure honey. What is it?” You ask, placing your utensils on the table and folding your hands over one another, devoting your attention to her. It wasn’t uncommon for important conversations to happen over dinner in the Bakugo household, it’s where you all could come together to connect every night.

“I decided what I wanna do. Y’know, as a career…at least I think I do.”

Katsuki tilts his head in curiosity while taking another bite of his dinner. “Yeah? An’ what’s that?”

She takes a deep breath before smiling confidently.

“I wanna be an author, just like Aunt Momo!”

Katsuki’s eyes twinkle under the dining room lights, beaming over his daughter’s aspirations. She was always the kid with the wildest imagination, constantly drawing cute children’s stories throughout school and acing all her creative writing projects. You and Katsuki assumed she’d want to be writer or illustrator when she was older, but never wanted to push her on it. It’s a hobby she loved and you didn’t want to pressure her into turning it into a career.

“That’s fantastic, sweetie!” You praise, reaching across the table to touch her hand. She turns to Katsuki, putting her free hand on his shoulder.

“Plus, someone’s gotta be book smart like Pops to run our store. I wanna continue the family legacy.”

He’s stunned, speechless. The room remains quiet until the silence is broken with your youngest throwing her fists in the air, victoriously shouting, “See sis? I knew he’d cry!”

Katsuki bursts into laughter, wiping the stray tears away with the backs of his hands. “That predictable, huh? M’proud of you, peach. Your Ma and I love and support whatever you wanna do.”

Your eldest crinkles her nose before grinning widely, just like her father does.

“Why don’t we call Aunt Momo after dinner, see if she has time to take you to lunch to talk about it?” You offer, squeezing her hand assuringly. “I’m sure she’d love to talk your ear off about writing.” She nods excitedly, her smile lighting up the room.

“I’ve got an idea for ya,” Katsuki says, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. “How ‘bout we let you do a reading at the shop? Compile some of your stories in an anthology of sorts and read ‘em to customers, get yourself out there. We’ve got the space.”

“Really?!” She gasps, eyes wide with excitement.

He smiles, leaning his elbows back onto the table. “It’s our store and I’m the boss. We can figure it out after your talk with Aunt Ponytail.”

She jumps up from her seat, feet padding down the hallway to her room while exclaiming, “I’m gonna call her now!”

“There she goes, reminds me of someone I know,” you tease, winking in Katsuki’s direction. He shakes his head with a chuckle. In the distance, you can faintly hear “Auntie Momo! How are you?! I want to…” coming from her room.

It’s hard to believe how much a little local bookstore has helped shape your family into what it is today, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[tieronecrush]

i only have eyes for you

summary: your boyfriend frankie has biannual eye exams for his pilot’s license, and the results of this last one were not what he was hoping for. to his dismay, frankie needs glasses. and you’re not available to help him pick them out.

wc: 2.3k

warnings: none, pure fluff really. ending has mature themes mentioned, but this is really just a sweetie frankie moment 🩵

a/n: this was born out of @northernbluess and I discussing the frankie vibes of the photo(s) above, and then me running off with a delusion of frankie needing glasses. so wholesome, so shy, so sweet 😭

“Seriously? Doesn’t your boss know you have plans with me?” Frankie groans from his place on the couch, flannel stretched across his shoulders and his Standard Oil cap on his head. Dark chocolate curls peek out of the hat, ringlets curving around the edges and his ears, while his plush bottom lip juts out in a pout.

Crossing the living room, you plant yourself on the area rug between his open legs, one hand reaching down to grab his chin and tilt his head to face you, eyes exposed from under the brim of his cap. His umber brown irises reflect hints of a tawny, golden color in the light; one look into his eyes and you’re surrounded in their depth and wrapped up in warmth, like coming into a heated home after a frigid winter day.

Matching his pout with your own, he shakes your hand off with another huff, crossing his arms over his chest. His knees pull together, trapping yours with their effortless strength, years of multiple miles a day in basic training and deployment giving him thighs and calves as thick as tree trunks and virtually as strong as them. A breathy laugh leaves your lips, one hand further hiking your work bag on your shoulder.

“And how d’you think my boss would react to me skipping out on the deadline ‘cause my boyfriend needs to go pick out glasses?” One eyebrow arches in questioning, Frankie shifting on the couch and shrugging as he stands his ground. You know his play; he’s going to pout and say he won’t go unless you’re coming with — you’ve been reminding him constantly over the last week about this appointment, a follow-up to his bi-annual eye exam for his pilot license that he had the other day.

Lately, Frankie had been squinting a lot more, holding books close to his face when he was reading; you even caught him increasing the size of the text on his phone in order to read his messages. He definitely needed the exam, and you knew he was going to need glasses. He grumbled the whole time, avoiding making the appointment until the last possible minute and waving your concern off when he came home with the results.

He was farsighted, which is why he was usually fine while flying. Years of experience meant he knew exactly where the controls were, the blurring of his vision not necessarily deterring his abilities to fly. Clinging to the fact that he’s been fine for the past few months at work, Frankie was refusing the fact that he needed to get glasses. But since he has to submit his results, his hand has been forced to head into the optometrist’s office and pick out a pair.

Which is where you were supposed to come in. Frankie claimed he didn’t care about the look of them, asking you to tag along with him and select some for him. The logic was that “I’m only seeing through them, you’re the one who has to look at ‘em the most. Should be the one to like ‘em.”

“This is a life-changing decision! He should understand that,” his voice drops in volume, eyes flicking away from yours, “I don’t wanna pick out a pair that makes me look silly to you.”

“Oh, baby, I think you’d look cute in any pair of glasses. ‘Cause I think you’re cute.” Folding forward, you steal a quick kiss before standing straight again, lifting one of your legs up and over his knee to free yourself. “Really, Francisco, you would never look silly to me, and you need glasses to go to work. Gotta go get ‘em, baby.”

Another groan rings in your ears, and you roll your eyes at his overdramaticness. Pushing himself off the couch, he stands in front of you, a playful glare on his face, “You’re paying the out-of-pocket price if my insurance won’t let me change them when you hate them.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. That’s not gonna happen. Now I have to go, and you have to leave for your appointment in an hour. I’m going to check your location, so don’t even think about skipping out,” you warn as you walk toward the front door, hearing him call out to you before you shut the door behind you.

“Tell your boss he’s a dick for makin’ you come in on your day off!”

The end of the day rolls around before you know it, and you’re more than eager to get home to see Frankie and his new glasses. Graciously, your boss told you to take tomorrow off instead, a relief settling in that you can actually enjoy a day with Frankie, who’s out of work until he gets his vision adjustments settled.

Excitement turns in your stomach when you park in the driveway of your shared house, following the path up to the front door of the bungalow and heading inside. Your shoes end up in a pile near the door and your bag ends up dropped next to them, bare feet padding across the tile floor.

Part of you, just a sliver, was feeling a bit anxious about Frankie’s choice. You genuinely meant you would love anything on him, but he’s been avoiding the task and trying to deflect it to you, which made you guess that the whole change had him feeling insecure. To you, there was nothing wrong with the addition to his look, but he must have been feeling much differently to be so worked up about the situation. In his world, surrounded by younger co-pilots and forced to disclose things like this in any applications or license renewals, you imagine it must be like showing up to elementary school or middle school as one of the few kids with braces or the butchered haircut your mom gave you in the bathroom the night before. Totally uncool.

You just wanted to hug the little, shy kid inside of Frankie; wrap him up, and tell him how much you love him and how cool you think he is. A kid like Frankie would’ve been your best friend when you were younger — he’s your best friend now.

“Frankie baby, where ya at?”

“Living room!”

Swerving from your direction toward the kitchen, you cross over into the living room, a wide and enthusiastic grin on your face as you anticipate what kind of glasses he chose. You’d been swarmed with text messages while he was at his appointment:

Are you sure you can’t take lunch now and come help me?

Way too many options here.

An older woman who works here is trying to help but I think she’s coming onto me…Please come over here baby!!

I feel like a dweeb in all of these.

Receiving the last one nearly made you pack up your things and rush over to help him, but with your boss breathing down your neck about a submission by the end of the day for this large project, you couldn’t sneak away. Instead, you sent reassurances, asking for photos but never receiving any from your boyfriend.

From where he sits on the couch, Frankie turns his hatless head away from the movie playing on the TV, sending a soft smile to you, “Hi, cariño. How was your day?”

No glasses.

God, you actually might kill him if he went through all of the theatrics only to come home empty-handed. Or empty-faced, more like it.

“My day was fine, but more importantly, how was your day? And why don’t I see glasses on your face?” you plop down on the couch next to him, body turned toward him while he continues to focus on the TV, humming dismissively.

“I got some. Jus’ don’t like wearing ‘em if I don’t have to,” he mumbles, sinking further into the couch cushions.

“Baby, you’re not going to get used to them if you don’t wear them regularly. Can’t be living in a blurry world.” Inching closer, you rest a hand on his thigh and the other cards through the curls at the nape of his neck, slowly turning his head to look at you, “I wanna see them. Please? Pretty please?”

Embraced again by those cocoa-brown eyes, this time filled with timidness and hooded with anxiety.

“I feel ridiculous in them. Like they make my ears stick out and they don’t fit under my cap and…they just look stupid on me.” His sentences mush together in his dejected tone, eyes falling from yours to stare at where his fingers are anxiously toying with the hem of your satin blouse.

The image of shy, little Frankie at school tugs on your heartstrings again; instead of showing your cards, you hide your anxieties with a soft, bright smile.

“Frankie, you could never look stupid to me. You never look stupid to anyone. Well, unless Pope’s around, but he can shove it.” That brings a subtle grin to his lips, a breathy of a single chuckle exhaling. “You are the most handsome to me, and a little pair of glasses isn’t going to change that. Can you please show them to me? I promise I’ll be honest, but I can guarantee that you think they are exponentially worse than what they are. Knowing how you are, they probably make you look hotter. Which, like, should be physically impossible, I mean look at you—”

“Alright, alright. I’ll show you the glasses. Quit makin’ me blush…” he scolds lightly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips and his dimple poking through on his cheek. You scoot back to allow him to get up off the couch, watching as he disappears down the hall to your bedroom and comes back a few seconds later, stopping right before he’s in view.

“Close your eyes.”

“Frankie, c’mon, I said—”

“Please?” His tone is so innocent, guileless in his clear nerves around you seeing him with the new accessory.

“Okay, they’re closed.” You confirm once you have shut your eyes, sitting up as you eagerly await. His steps grow louder and you can feel the couch sink when he sits back down again, shifting to cheat his body in your direction. A silent beat drums between you two before he clears his throat with a defeated sigh.

“Okay, you can look.”

Opening your eyes, the immediate reaction is to press your lips together, holding back the overexcitement about the new look to not startle Frankie. Circling your eyes over his face, you study the thick oaky frames that stand out from his strong features, complementing them with a statement of their own. Rounded square shapes hold the lenses, the bridge of them perched perfectly on his hooked nose. The arms of them extend back to his ears, and he was right, they do make the tops of his ears stick out minisculely. But most of that is covered by the way his dense curls flick out around the glasses, poking out in the most adorable way.

And of course, they do nothing but create the perfect perimeter around those beloved brown eyes, the curvature of the lenses making them appear just the slightest bit larger. More for you to stare into.

The lack of reaction as you take it all in has perturbed Frankie, a groan identical to his this morning rolling from his chest, “See I knew these were no good, I’m not wearing ‘em. I look silly.”

One of his hands lifts from his lap to grab for the frames, your own hand quick to intercept the motion. Quickly shaking your head, the words spill out to stop his spiraling, “No no no, absolutely not. You don’t look silly at all, baby…”

“But you don’t like them?”

“I love them. They’re exactly what I would’ve chosen for you myself. You look so handsome, my Frankie.” Without holding back anymore, a blinding smile lights up your face and you shift to your knees to crawl over and straddle his thighs. Your arms wrap around his neck, pressing yourself against him in a tight, squeezing hug. His own arms snake around your back, keeping you flush against him. The two of you sit in that embrace for a few moments, only pulling back a few inches to look at his face again. Delicately, you lift a finger to trace the shape of the glasses, grinning sweetly when your eyes focus back on his.

“You look hot. Like a sexy professor or like…a cool movie star.” Frankie laughs and shakes his head, fingertips tracing up and down your lower spine. “Can’t wait to christen the glasses. Kinda want you to keep ‘em on later tonight.”

Frankie’s head twists in curiosity, a smirk settling easily on his face, “That so? Guess it is going to be nice to see your face clearly again. Think that was my sole motivator for getting the damn things finally…” He grins when you laugh, pushing his lips out in a pucker and his eyes widen as a thought pops into his head. “Pretty sure they’ll get all fogged up when I’m between your le—”

“Oh my god, don’t even finish that sentence. The glasses come off when you’re doing that, Francisco.” You shove his shoulder gently and he laughs brightly, his eye glittering in the warm light behind his lenses. His hands at your back pull you in closer again, his nose nudging yours before he catches your lips in a soft, supple, slow kiss. The feeling of the plastic frames against your skin is foreign, but welcome.

“Love you, baby,” he whispers against your skin before he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips.

Leaning back again, his hands coast up and down your sides while you reply, “Love you too, Frankie. Glasses or no glasses.”

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