#i LOVE live-blogs i’ve just been busy today

[rootedinrevisions]

Masterlist

Welcome to my Masterlist! (Updated Oct. 24. 2024.)

Here you'll find all my fanfiction in one place, where I explore characters, relationships, and the worlds they live in. Whether it's diving deep into emotional conflicts or adding new layers to the stories we love, my writing is all about giving you fresh perspectives and heartfelt moments. Whether you're here for angst, fluff, or something a bit more steamy, there's a story waiting for you.

I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I’ve loved creating them! Feel free to browse through the links below, and don’t hesitate to reach out if you’d like to chat about the stories or characters.

✨ Happy reading! ✨

REQUESTS ARE TEMPORARILY CLOSED

I am starting a new job starting on December 2nd (yay!) and have a full list of 23 requests to work through, I’ll be temporarily closing requests starting today (November 20).

This will give me the chance to: ✨ Focus on fulfilling the requests I’ve already received. ✨ Dedicate time to my WIPs that are long overdue. ✨ Adjust to my new role and navigate the busy holiday season.

I’m planning to reopen requests in about a month—likely after the holidays, once I’ve had time to settle into my new schedule. Of course, I’ll keep everyone updated here when I’m ready to take on more ideas!

** This blog is intended for readers 18+. Minors DO NOT INTERACT. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given on any writing that needs it**

KINKTOBER 2024

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

This was my wild dive into the spicy world of Kinktober! Throughout October, I challenged myself to post a new piece every day, each one exploring different kinks and themes with a mix of heat and heart. Whether you're here for the steam, the characters, or just a fun escape, I hope you find something to enjoy. Each story pushes boundaries in its own way, so please read the tags and warnings before diving in. Enjoy the journey, and thanks for checking out my Kinktober 2024 collection! 🔥

GLEN POWELL

Glen Powell (and His Characters) Masterlist

Whether it’s Glen Powell himself or the unforgettable roles he brings to life, this section is dedicated to all things Glen.

From standalone one-shots to multi-part series, you’ll find stories exploring the charm of Glen as an actor and the personalities of his iconic characters, like Jake Seresin from Top Gun: Maverick and Tyler Owens from Twisters.

Whether you're in the mood for quick reads or something a little more in-depth, there's plenty here to dive into. Enjoy the journey, and feel free to leave your thoughts! 🤠

TWISTERS

Twisters Masterlist

Welcome to my collection of stories inspired by Twisters! Right now, the focus is on Tyler Owens, one of the main characters who’s brought to life in ways that explore his depth, relationships, and adventures beyond the screen.

As this section grows, you might see stories featuring other characters like Scott Miller and Javi Rivera—so stay tuned! Whether you're here for Tyler or curious about future tales, I hope you enjoy these stormy stories. 🌪️

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

Top Gun: Maverick Masterlist

This list is all about the thrill and tension of Top Gun: Maverick. Most of my writing here dives into the cocky charm of Jake "Hangman" Seresin, but you’ll also find some pieces centered around Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, with more stories potentially featuring characters like Robert "Bob" Floyd in the future.

Whether you're into Hangman’s swagger, Rooster’s heart, or curious about the rest of the Top Gun crew, there’s something for every fan of the high-flying action and drama. Strap in and enjoy the ride! ✈️

WRESTLING

WWE & Professional Wrestling

Step into the ring with my collection of professional wrestling stories! Most of my writing here is centered around the superstars of WWE, but you'll also find a few pieces featuring wrestlers from other promotions.

Whether you're a fan of the drama, athleticism, or the larger-than-life personalities in the squared circle, there’s something here for you. From intense rivalries to behind-the-scenes moments, I hope you enjoy these tales of wrestling’s finest. 💥

[luveline]

would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? i’ve always loved the concept when you’ve referenced it in the story, i would love to read it👀 you’re absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and i’m embarrassed😅

thank you for your request ❤️ fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse

There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.) 

He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section. 

He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true. 

No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom. 

Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight. 

You look tired, too. 

Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess. 

You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas. 

Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky. 

You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops. 

You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh —he can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one. 

“Hey,” he says. 

You meet his eyes with a funny smile. “Hey. Sorry, am I in the way?” you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak. 

“No, you're not, it's… I see you here all the time.” 

You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. “So?” you ask wearily.

“Are you okay?” 

Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight. 

“I see you all the time too. We've… we've actually spoken before, haven't we?” you ask after a moment. 

“Yeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running and–” It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. “Are you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.” 

“It's getting better.” 

It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. “There's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff and–” 

“I'm really okay–” 

“You had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,” he says softly, imploringly, “I just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but I–” 

You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. “Okay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.” 

Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. “I'll come and meet you.” 

“You don't have to,” you say, gesturing at the basket. 

“The damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.” He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.

He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still. 

Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

“It was my boss.” You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. “I’m a dancer. Sorry. I know you’re going to ask.” 

“And he hit you?” 

“Yeah.” 

Spencer knows the number for every women’s shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that you’d say no. He can tell you’re scared, even if you don’t realise it yourself. “Is it getting worse?”

You can’t offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. It’s like he can’t tell someone, even if they ask. 

Sometimes he just wishes they’d ask twice. 

“You can tell me. It won’t sound stupid,” he promises. He’s in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. “It’s getting worse, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say, the weight of tears on your tongue. 

“You’re a dancer. Is he just a boss– Does he… abuse you financially?” 

You laugh wetly. “He’s not my pimp.” 

He can feel his face heating up.’“No, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?” 

You shake your head. “No, I don’t get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow there’s always another percentage, and then discipline. And now…” 

“Now he’s hitting you.” Very badly. 

“I’m not stupid.” 

Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” 

“No, I know, but I need you to know I’m not stupid. When we talked before, you– you’re so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.” 

He’s not sure where you’re going with this. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isn’t an end in sight for you, just right now. 

“Can I buy you something to eat?” 

“I have money,” you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside. 

“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and they’re wearing off.” He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. “Your hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.” 

“You’re very perceptive,” you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. You’re protecting one of the things you can control about how you’re seen when everything else is far from it. 

“I’m a profiler. Do you,” —he tries not to sound hoity toity— “know what that is?” 

“No.” 

“I’m an FBI agent.” You’re laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. “I know it sounds like I’m making it up.” Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isn’t wielding it around to be an asshole. “I’m in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. That’s why I know you’re in pain.” 

You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. “If you need all that to know I’m in pain, you’re not as smart as you think,” you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly. 

Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. It’s awkward, he guesses, but he’s used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that. 

[punksocks]

Birthday Observations (Capricorn Placements)

*Just based on my observations, only take what resonates

(Today’s my birthday -woo- so I thought I’d put together some observations I’ve noticed about Capricorn placements)

-Capricorn in the big 6 (especially moon) are forced to grow up so fast. Usually, because they’re born to a family with some sort of immaturity in the adults. Because of this these placements usually have to reparent themselves at some point, and this can be why Capricorn placements tend to have more fun in their lives after 25-30

-Sometimes I feel like we forget that in old astrology Aquarius and Capricorn have the same ruler, Saturn. I believe this is why Capricorns can find themselves innovating or even find themselves being stand out loners

-Speaking of Saturn, Capricorn heavy people tend to have to break generational curses or they’ll end up victim to the same circumstances (but they can fall into the same patterns easily)

-Capricorns tend to have such a dry sense of humor because humor is how we cope with all the stress and madness. When things get more lighthearted (and when developed) Capricorns can be much less serious and heavy individuals

-Capricorn mercuries may struggle with expressing themselves in their youth, and even as they get older they may have a hard time opening up and sharing details about their thoughts.

-I think the constant theme with Capricorn placements is taking time and being very deliberate in their processes. Capricorn Asc tend to be a bit slow paced in how they act and react (not in a lacking way, just very deliberate). Capricorn suns grow into their identity and how to express it often after their early 20s, Capricorn moons need time an space to understand and process the emotions they’re feeling, Capricorn mercuries need time to respond and often carefully consider what they’ll say next, Capricorn venuses often don’t fully embrace their beauty until after their mid 20s and they tend to have better luck in love and relationships after this point as well, Capricorn marses tend to need time to achieve their goals, even when they move toward them with consistency, etc

-Underdeveloped Capricorn placements can be super competitive and try to out pace you in everything that you do better than them. (Capricorn suns will try to undermine your achievements and attention, Capricorn venus will try to make you feel ugly and try to throw shade on your style/friendships/romantic options, etc)

-Capricorns don’t enjoy inefficient behavior, they may complain about a process that doesn’t seem to be logical in all steps and may streamline the process if they can.

-The biggest lesson I’m trying to learn as a Capricorn is when to rest. There’s always more work that can be done and it’s hard to mentally step away without feeling guilty or unproductive.

-I always felt some kinda way about The Devil tarot card being for Capricorns— but I will say it is a sign that is commonly tempted to chase after means (like Capricorn venus dating someone for money). Capricorns love respect and security so they can sell out their soul for this if they’re not self aware.

-I just barely started reading Alice Sparkly Kat’s Post Colonial Astrology book, but there and on her blog she makes a great point that “Capricorns have never been corporate”. I have a theory that conformity can be a great detriment to Capricorn placements (even if just on a spiritual level). But Saturn repeated his father’s ruthless attitude around power and was cut down by his sons. Capricorns can find themselves succeeding down these conventional paths and then they end up suffering personally. Or, as was my experience, these conventional paths never quite open up to you and you face more and more challenges in this route and can never quite match their progress to their ambitions. Capricorns tend to benefit much more when they create their own path (I’ve found that this true for business as well as other areas of life).

[johnnyutah]

average adam faulkner stanheight fan: if adam isn’t in saw xi we riot! @lionsgate @kevingruetert @jameswan #adamlives #justiceforadam #corpseinconsistencies

average john kramer fan: What people don’t realize about John, is he’s such a genius that even when he makes mistakes, he planned on making the mistakes. He is the greatest villain of all time

average jill tuck fan: Appreciation post for the Women of Saw 🩷 [the same ten photos that get posted once a week]

average lawrence gordon fan: last night i watched a 2004 tv movie about serial killers called ‘the riverman’, followed by the cheesy family rom-com ‘a castle for christmas’. today my friends and i are going to binge the entire third season of netflix’s ‘stranger things’. none of us have seen a single episode of the rest of the show and we don’t plan on it. then we might rewatch ‘another country’ together

average amanda young fan: sorry i haven’t been online in 4 weeks i’ve been too busy trying to get the new pig cosmetic in the rift [posted 7 weeks ago]

average mark hoffman fan: [underneath a gifset of costas mandylor in a republican christian propaganda ‘sci-fi’ movie] #hes so fucking hot #i would give anything to put him in a sports bra and make him do jumping jacks in front pf me i would literally do #ANYTHING #i need to make him into a marionett and fist him lol

average daniel rigg fan: Here’s a quick low effort doodle I did of Daniel! I just love him so much ❤️ [a literal masterpiece, the best art you’ve ever seen in your entire life] [3 notes]

average allison kerry fan: i am hardcore attached to ONE ship which is probably either allison/amanda or allison/lindsey and my whole blog is devoted to them. there are dozens of us DOZENS

average lynn denlon fan: okay so i know bahar is a realtor now but in her last instagram post where she’s congratulating her son on some new achievement, both the first and last words in the post have 11 letters, AND there’s an X and an I visible in the background of her post 👀?? is this a reach???

average jeff denlon fan: No seriously let me finish seriously when you compare him to the other shitty men in Saw he’s NOT that b

average david tapp fan: i’m 39k away from publishing my 40k tappsing Everybody Lives AU <3 this is going to be epic [account has been deactivated for an indeterminate amount of time]

average brit stevenson and mallick scott fan: Hey I stayed up making this instead of writing my thesis paper for grad school. Here’s a 30,000 word document about the implications of Brit’s promotion within the Marshford group and how it would lead to her eventual demise and also how she rose to the top in her group. It also delves into her relationship with Mallick, whose existence, I believe, is an obvious literary reference to an ancient Roman play read by only me and three other people currently alive. I translated relevant passages and included them in my work. I got understimulated around page 8 so I did take a break to pierce myself in the same spot that I believe Mallick would have a piercing. If you read my fics on AO3 you will already be familiar with the location.

average peter strahm fan: haha peter does CRACK cocoaine haha i think he sniffeds some drugs! why else would he be so MANIC HYPER CRAZY!!! i love my crazy JUNKIE man LOL get him some andderall STAT!! if hoffman didn’t kill him the SPEED certianly would of! LOL!

average lindsey perez fan: i love lindsey perez i’m such a big fan of the character lindsey perez

average matt gibson fan: i literally would eat garbage out of a dumpster

average ezekiel banks fan: holy shit i just finished spiral what a good movie what the hell!!! what a cool addition to the saw universe! i bet everybody else loves this as much as i do! let me take a big drink of water as i check tumblr dot com to see all the nice things people will have to say about darren lynn bousman’s Spiral

average william schenk fan: my hobbies include: being a fujoshi,

average cecelia pederson fan: [pic of cecelia yanking on the metal loop around her neck and smirking] https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vT3f5IIzt5PG-M7G9_Z-gjY4gZaiUneTdMlYrFAcdBGcJo0-N-RDQcj2JfxOaBTxKa6J_DiDQNgqVpg/pub

average logan jigsaw fan: What people don’t realize about John, is he’s such a genius that even when he makes mistakes, he planned on making the mistakes. He is the greatest villain of all time

[letters-from-ikemen]

Water-Stained Letter, Dated For Your Anniversary

Cara Mia,

It’s been a long time since I’ve written you a letter, huh?

I guess I’ve gotten sentimental in my old age. But I always was when it came to you.

Comte said it might be helpful to write my feelings down. Like I’m talking to you. I can pretend you’re still with me.

Might as well give it a try.

Been over a hundred years since I saw you last. You know, we’re in your modern time now. With your skyscrapers and electronic devices. Business as usual with us. Everyone’s adjusted to the times. Even Jean. You’d have loved to see it.

Comte’s still got everyone living in that mansion in the woods outside of Paris. Still the same as it was when you left. There’s a few more of us now. I just know you’d win them over like you did everyone else.

They still talk about you, you know. Everyone does. They miss you, even if they don’t say it out loud.

The halls are quieter and the days are darker without your smile. Sleep is harder to find without your happy laughter. Sometimes I still wake up expecting to see you in my arms.

Eternity is a long time to go without your optimism, cara mia.

Today would have been our one-hundred-fiftieth anniversary.

A hundred and fifty years since we met. It feels like only yesterday you stumbled through that door and into our lives.

Heh. To an immortal vampire, I guess it was. To you, it was your whole life.

I’d say it’s gotten easier over the years, but I’d be lying. I promised you in the beginning I’d never lie to you.

If you were here you’d be reminding me that I promised to talk about more stuff with you. Together. You’d be pushing me to at least talk to le Comte. Telling me I shouldn’t close myself off from everyone now that you’re gone. Saying that I’d gotten used to sharing more of myself and my thoughts with you over the years and that I didn’t have an excuse not to anymore.

But le Comte isn’t you.

And I don’t talk to them because talking about you won’t bring you back.

The day you passed was the day I died, too.

I miss you.

I love you.

Non vedo l'ora di rivederti.

(the rest of the letter is illegibly smudged with water)

a letter for anon, thank you for the request!

About this blog || Request Rules

[nerdieforpedro]

How did you forget?

Benny Miller x reader

My entire blog is 18+ MDNI

Summary: A person can forget a lot of things, but this is a new one.

Word Count: 400

Warnings: the reader being oblivious, Benny being a sexy menace, sexual innuendo, domestic fluff

Notes: Finally I have finished something for Benny. Our resident tall sweet silly man. I wanted something a little fun and sexy today. 🤭

Main Masterlist/ Benny Miller Masterlist

“It’s not that I hate what’s happening here at all. I’m just at a loss as to why…” It’s not an unwelcome sight, coming home and being presented with a towering, muscular, all his tattoos exposed along with him only covered by a silk handkerchief that says happy birthday. It took you a few minutes to read it because there was plenty else to look at. His long body is draped over the black leather of the couch, making his skin appear brighter, almost like he’s glowing - if there was anyone who you knew who could spontaneously glow it would be Benjamin Miller.

“Sweetheart, you forgot what today is? I know you’ve been working extra shifts but it only comes around once a year.” Benny sits up on the side of the couch and lifts up the handkerchief pointing to it. “I mean sure I’ll be home naked sometimes, but there’s a clear reason tonight.” Closing your eyes, you laugh, realizing why he’s so surprised at your confusion.

You have forgotten your own birthday.

It’s been a busy two months with you and Benny getting settled in your new house. It finally felt lived in, decorated by the two of you. The different happy birthday texts you’d received hadn’t registered the correct day either, thinking everyone was a week early. It didn’t feel like your birthday, usually Benny would be dropping some hints about what you wanted or plans. You didn’t remember any but also you may not have noticed, which is even worse.

“Good grief, I am so sorry baby. Thank you.” Instead of sitting next to him, you snatched the silk from him and put it around his neck before straddling him. “Come on, love. Let’s celebrate how I’d like to. Right here. You had the right idea.” Tugging on the soft material, Benny’s lips met your briefly before his reaching beneath your legs and hopping to his feet, holding you around his waist.

“When we’re on the same page like this I remember why I married you. I’ve been ready since you walked in the door sweet cheeks.” His hands shift to your ass as you wrap your legs around his waist tighter to hold on.

“That right Mr. Miller? Well, show me the rest of the evening.” With that, Benny nuzzles your neck as he walks you both to your bedroom for a sweaty birthday night.

Peeps who’d like to see behind the silk handkerchief ❤️: @tinytinymenace @laurfilijames @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @megamindsecretlair

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Breakfast in Margate (Alfie Solomons x Reader)

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Modern AU

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: A grumpy Papa Solomons (yes, that is a warning) and a whole lot of tooth-rotting domestic fluff

Summary:

Mornings aren’t always easy. For example, it’s terribly difficult to not be caught making breakfast for your fiancé, a workaholic who always takes the task upon himself.

However, what makes it harder today is the fact he loathes food made with recipes found online. Fortunately for you, though, Alfie isn’t the only one who’s good at playing games when he wants to push his own agenda.

Especially those that concern a sweet reward.

Author’s note: I've kept Alfie's adherence to his Jewish heritage quite loose. Nevertheless, I hope that the aspects I did incorporate in this work have been done so properly. If not, let me know and please don't hesitate to educate me (in a polite and respectful manner) because I love learning about different cultures and religions.

Tag List: @potter-solomons @zablife @wandawiccan60 @dreamlandcreations @liliac-dreamer @buttercupsandboys @vir-tual @rose-like-the-phoenix @hoodeddreams13 @mollybegger-blog @solomons-finest-rum @hecatemoon87 @babaohhhriley

TH Masterlist

Mornings like this are rare, these quiet moments unbroken by the usual ruckus in the kitchen. Now, it’s solely my bare feet on the wooden floor and the waves crashing onto the shore. No clanging of metal, no muttered curses in Yiddish or Russian, nor the scent of freshly brewed coffee. 

In the living room, Cyril lays in front of the hearth. The first rays of sunshine fall over him like a warm natural blanket, highlighting the ginger undertone in his fur. One of the many features he shares with his owner. 

As soon as I pass by, he lifts his head, tilts it in wonder, and lets out a low bark. After all, it’s Alfie who’s more often than not the first one to wander around the house at the crack of dawn. That is, if he’s slept at all. However, recently he’s started properly adhering to the Shabbat. Although, as much as he allows himself to because if Alfie Solomons is one thing, it’s mighty stubborn. Moreover, he’s an incurable workaholic. As hard as he works at The Old Rum House Bakery to let the business flourish and maintain his position as the fearsome Mad Baker of Camden, just as much effort does he put into our relationship. In fact, it’s not only towards Cyril and I his attention goes, but also to the house.

Our home.

Alfie has become a lot more domestic since we started dating, shortly after meeting one another on a train to London. Disregarding his tendency to walk around naked, he cooks and cleans, assuring me time and again I don’t have to help. When we go out for our weekly grocery trip, no matter how tired he is, he carries the bags to the car so that I don’t have to. Neither do I have to put away what we got, more often than not shipped off to the luxurious red sofa in the living room with a cup of coffee or tea to pair with whatever he’s baked at night. 

Nevertheless, regardless of the otherwise very loose relationship with his heritage, Ollie and I are glad he’s at least taking a day off in the week to rest up. The bakery has recently started taking its toll thanks to an influx in customers, which means extra stock as well as staff is needed. In turn, this means more part-timers to train and more admin work. In other words, everyone has to pick up the pace to meet the current demand. Such is the power of marketing, especially on social media. Alfie is loath to admit it, but Ollie and I can tell he’s secretly grateful we managed to convince him to let us handle the bakery’s socials.

We don’t get cinnamon buns on Monday anymore, though.

I stop in my tracks, turn to Cyril, and put a finger to my lips. “I know, love, but Papa is still sleeping. It’s finally Mama’s turn to make breakfast again.”

Seldom do I get the chance to experiment in the kitchen, let alone try a recipe I’ve found online. Or worse, via Youtube or Instagram. Now, that’s usually enough to make Alfie bristle. Nevertheless, mention the word ‘viral’ and a scowl will twist his lips.

Sometimes I wonder whether or not Alfie and Cyril are the same person because he lowers his head onto his paws and lets out a deep sigh that sounds like sarcastic resignation.

Thanks for the faith, buddy.

“It’s gonna be okay. No fire in the pan this time, I promise. How about we go stretch our legs after brekkie, hm? That sound good?”

Cyril huffs in agreement and closes his eyes, back to enjoying his luxurious pillow. 

We bought it for him when we went antique shop hopping in London last week. Although, perhaps it’s better to say I bought it after convincing my grumpy companion we should occasionally pamper our adopted four-legged child and I couldn’t fix his old pillow anymore. Of course I could, but I was more than done with constantly needing to fix the seams and re-stuff the thing.

Borough Market has become a regular stop on our weekly grocery trip, mostly because I used the splendidly efficient strategy of batting my lashes and pouting. Artisan goods and fresh produce can be luxuries, something to only occasionally splurge on. After all, why spend a fortune when there is a cheaper alternative that’s just as good? 

Nonetheless, Alfie developed a taste for supporting local businesses soon after our first visit. To some he has proposed contracts, offering them a position as a supplier to his bakery. Granted their goods are kosher, of course.

Yesterday, we got some wonderful fresh bright yellow bananas, eggs from a local farm, and oat flour from a mill a little ways away from London. Alfie thought little of it when I plonked them triumphantly in our grocery bag, having occupied himself with the fresh stock one of the florists was setting out. I glance at the colourful bouquet of wildflowers on the table and for a moment I’m back to him holding out to me, face full of the warm tenderness that stands in stark contrast to the stern and unpredictable persona he portrays when I’m not there. 

Right then and there, he wasn’t The Mad Baker of Camden, the fearsome King who rules the borough.

He was a sweet and caring gentleman.

Simply Alfie Solomons.

Nevertheless, in spite of these small moments of tenderness, he can still be awfully grumpy.

Especially if he hasn’t had his coffee.

“Mornin’, dove.” Two big warm hands glide over my hips towards my lower stomach. Those very same palms pull me flush against a naked chest grown soft with neglected muscle, slightly clammy with the remainder of last night’s late summer heat. Alfie presses his lips to the side of my neck and hums, tightening the embrace as he does so. The sonorous trill in his voice sends a shiver down my spine and rekindles a familiar heat. Nonetheless, the way he leans on me betrays he isn’t entirely awake yet. The slight slur in his words serve to confirm the lingering drowsiness, sounding like they’ve been pulled out of bed only moments before too. “That shirt looks good on you.”

“I’m glad you think so because you’re not getting it back any time soon.” I briefly stop mixing the batter to scratch his beard. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch as a content sigh escapes him. “You slept in.”

“Still woke up to an empty spot, though. If you want me to sleep more, yeah, which you know I find a terrible waste of time, I’ll need my wife to ‘old.”

I pat his hands to placate him. The thin gold band inlaid with a modest diamond around my ring finger matches his. I had thought Alfie would pick something elaborate for himself, but instead he chose a simple thick gold ring and got it engraved. It says: Ani l’dodi, v’dodi li; I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine. “Don’t get hasty. We aren’t married yet.”

“Let’s just go to the courthouse today.’’ He slips his hands beneath the fabric of the shirt I stole from him, letting them rest on my stomach after a brief caress. It’s a gesture he often makes nowadays. ‘‘Sign the paper, right, and be done with it so the desk eaters are ‘appy. We can always celebrate it later. Throw a party as big as the whole of bloody Camden, like a proper coronation ceremony to celebrate our union.”

“Tempting as it is, I’ll have to refuse. Besides, it's Shabbat today and you need to take a break. I promise I can wait a little while longer to officially become Mrs Solomons.”

“You ‘ave been from the start, Y/N. I don’t need a ring to call you my wife. ‘Sides, you well know ‘ow I am. Which reminds me, breakfast is my job, innit?” A wary tone creeps into his voice as he leans away to check what’s in the mixing bowl. “Is that edible?”

“It will be,” I say, continuing to mix the ingredients until they’re well combined.

“I’m not eatin’ that goo. Looks fucking awful, that stuff.”

“It’s healthy goo! Uses the bananas, eggs, and flour we got yesterday.”

Nose scrunched, Alfie peers at me. “Oh, so yesterday was all a little scam to get me to eat whatever this is?”

“You aren’t the only one who can lie. Although, it’s not really a lie, is it? More like a half-truth.’’ I shrug. ‘‘I simply never told you my plan. Would ruin the surprise.”

“Which is?”

“Baked oats that taste like cake. They just haven’t been baked yet.”

“Where’d you get the recipe?”

“YouTube…”

He groans, wide awake now that the conversation has taken a turn towards a point of absolute irritation. “Fucking ‘ell, dove, ‘ow many times ‘aven’t I told you not every recipe on social media-’’

“Don’t judge before you’ve tried it.” I put the spatula down, turn around in his embrace and steal a kiss off of his lips. “Said so yourself, didn’t you?”

“Don’t use my words against me.”

“Oh, I will. If only to keep things fair. Have a little faith in me. It’ll be fine.”

I hope.

A warning finger raised and pointed at me, he leans in until our faces are mere inches apart. “Fine. But I’m gonna make us coffee, right, so we’ll at least ‘ave something to get us fucking started.”

I can’t suppress a chuckle at the grumpy gesture. “Sure.”

The threat turns into tenderness when he cups my cheek. His palm has grown rough with the hours spent at the bakery, proof of his hard work. Tenderly, he presses his lips to mine. “Ikh hab dir lib.”

“I know.” To show I accept his usual indirect apology for his bad mood and avoid coming across as being cross with me, I run my fingers along his jaw. “I love you too.”

Resting his forehead against mine, he nudges my nose with his. “Mhm.”

“Why don’t you take Cyril for a brief walk, eh? The oats have to bake for twenty-five minutes anyway.”

“We can take ‘im on a walk later together. I’ll go set the table.”

“First put on a pair of knickers.”

“No.”

“You know the rules, Alfie. No buns on the chairs during summer.”

“I ain’t sweating.”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe you’re the one who isn’t.”

I cock an eyebrow, fighting the smug smirk threatening to break out. “That so?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, “first we’ll ‘ave coffee, right, ‘cause otherwise neither of us functions. Now, ‘ow about after we’ve started the day proper I’ll fuck you like last night, hm?”

Until I black out. 

The prospect of it mixes with memories of last night. Sea blue eyes, usually so steady and full of hidden temperaments, barely able to refrain from going cross-eyed. The fight with the stutter in his hips, gradually growing closer to the edge of pleasure but also exhaustion. Big hands reminiscent of wolf paws gripping the headboard for support while I was already lost in a satisfied delirium. The absent-minded glance to the bruises on my thighs adds to the steadily growing heat between my legs, perversely longing for more.

For him.

Nevertheless, the haze clears in an instant with a single sharp thought. I take a step back, crossing my arms as I search his expression for confirmation. However, as usually is the case, Alfie keeps his true motifs to himself. And this time, behind a mask he tends to put on when he wants something from me in particular. “So you can make breakfast. That’s what you’re getting at, aren’t you?”

“No,” he purrs, stealing a kiss as soon as he has bridged the distance between us, “not at all, dove. I just want my wife. I wanna make love to you.” We softly start to sway, slowly making our way out of the kitchen. “Let me make love to you.”

We come to a halt on the threshold. “Later. After you put on a pair of knickers and we’ve eaten.”

He blinks, the cheeky smile grown stiff. I can feel his muscles tense, unconsciously causing him to grip me a bit tighter than before. “But-’’

“Knickers, Alfie.”

“One round.”

“Alfred Solomons Jr, knickers. Right now.”

The use of his full name provokes a menacing snarl, the kind which is usually preserved for those who cross him. “Those oats better be fucking worth it, yeah, ‘cause otherwise you’re payin’ for lunch.”

I trace his cock, the skin hot and hardening beneath my fingertips with every sharp intake of breath. Perhaps this game won’t go on for as long as it usually does before he loses control. “Somehow I don’t think I will.”

He roughly grips my face, the thrill of every low-voiced word against my lips travelling throughout my body. “I ought to do somethin’ ‘bout that attitude of yours. Big fucks small, Y/N, always.”

Game over.

Except for the one card I have left to play.

“I know,” I wrap my hand around him, barely able to grip him properly, “but first some knickers. Please, Papa?”

“Clever bird, ain’t ya?” He growls into the kiss when I lightly squeeze him and let go. “Maybe I should carry out my own personal form of stigmata later. Add to those pretty bruises.”

Like snow in the spring sun, his attitude melts and changes. Alfie gently nudges my cheek and makes for the bedroom. A few moments later, he returns and starts setting the table while I pour the batter in the ramekins and plop them in the oven.

Despite the promise to make coffee, I reach for the cupboard to grab a mug. After all, old habits die hard.

Nevertheless, I find myself cut off by a hand that gently lowers mine, away from the handle.

“I said I’ll make us coffee,” Alfie grumbles. “Let Papa Solomons do ‘is job, yeah. Go sit in the livin’ room. I’ll be there shortly.”

I nod at the baking aftermath in the sink. “I got some washing up to do.”

“Nah, that can wait. Coffee and, ‘opefully, food first.” He places his hands on my shoulders and kindly coerces me out of the kitchen. “Go on.”

I let him guide me, feigning defiance by pouting. Yet, the act quickly falls apart with a lighthearted giggle. I suppose I still have a lot to learn from him concerning the art of masks. “Alright.”

Soon after he joins me on the porch, where I’ve settled down with Cyril to enjoy the salt air. The beach across the street is still empty, devoid of the plethora of towels. The breeze is silent, not yet filled with the chatter of tourists and locals alike.

These hours are ours.

This is our Margate.

“'Ere you go, love.” Alfie hands me a steaming mug of cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso, the milk soft and foamy, before he sits down next to me. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes as I take a sip. “Nice, innit?”

“Mhm.”

Thus we sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the view and each other’s company. Cyril has started to doze off, although he tries in vain to keep his eyes open. One glance to the side tells of Alfie fighting the same battle. Occasionally he pulls a face or lifts his hand to stifle a yawn. It’s strangely funny to watch him continue to take a sip afterwards, a small gesture of hope. Surely he should be readily awake before his cup is empty.

Because sleeping isn’t an option.

He’s tired of the nightmares.

The faint sound of the oven going off disturbs the domestic bliss.

Alfie groans as struggles to get up, glad to have my arm to use as support while he pulls himself to his feet. I say nothing, knowing full well how his sciatica influences his mood.

And it’s already rotten enough in the morning.

As Alfie washes his hands, I get the baked oats out of the oven and place them on the plates. Meanwhile, Alfie warms up a few slices of babka and the challah bread we made together yesterday. “Just so we ‘ave somethin’.”

He sits down while I wash my hands. From the corner of my eye, I see him poke the oats with his fork. “It’s kosher?”

“It is,” I say, drying my hands before I sit down across from him. “Shall I go first?”

“Very funny.” He scoops a bit of the oats onto his fork and puts it in his mouth. His brows knit together, contemplating the taste.

“And? Do you like it?” 

Remaining silent and gaze fixed on the ramekin, he pokes his oats again. 

I swallow hard, my excitement crushed under the stones of dread. A nagging voice in the back of my head feeds into the fear of his judgement. Funny how one connects their self worth to food. Then again, it was that which started our relationship. A cup of coffee, a slice of babka, and a slice of plant-based carrot cake. Back then, though, my stomach didn’t quiver this badly nor did my ribs feel like they were caged in a very tight-strung corset. “You don’t.”

“Dove,” he begins, but doesn’t continue. 

Not until after he’s had another bite. “It’s good.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or simply trying to appease me.”

“I’m serious.”

“You are?”

“I am,’’ he says, raising his voice ever so slightly in spite of the effort to keep it even. Alfie finally meets my gaze and I can tell he’s being sincere regardless of the way he accusingly waves his fork at me. ‘‘But I still don’t like 'ow you got this off of the internet. ‘Ow many times ‘aven’t I told you, hm? You should know better by now.”

I chuckle as I at last taste the baked oats myself. They’re chocolatey with a subtle banana undertone, which is warmed by the cinnamon. “I gotta find new recipes somehow.”

“There are cookbooks.”

“Too limited and they take up too much space.” While nibbling on a piece of challah bread, I take a sip of coffee. “Can I make this more often?”

“It does taste like cake,” he reluctantly admits, spooning up another bite. “Yes, you can.”

“Why do you make it sound like there’s a condition?”

“You can make these oats, yeah, if I get to serve you something sweet in return.”

Something not to be had in the kitchen.

‘‘Deal,’’ I lean in, biting my lip as I play my final card, ‘‘Papa.’’

Alfie clenches his fork upon hearing his favourite nickname, the title he is secretly proud of. A dark haze clouds his eyes, the gloss in them highlighted by the morning sun. The smirk on his lips has evened out, his jaw tightened with the effort to practise self-restraint. 

Game over.

I won.

And the prize is something sweet with lots of cream.

[gloxk]

“Mary Jane.”

Gojo satoru ~

Summary: Your best friend was a snake. She slept with your boyfriend at a party. Everything shattered when you saw them. Your heart broke, leaving you with hatered and resentment. But two can play that game. Didn't she know? Karma’s a bitch.

W/C : 2k+. READING TIME: 10 minutes.

Setting: Modern Au, Reader is in their 20’s.

Song inspo:The best I ever had (Limi)/ Birthday S*X (Jeremih)/Drunk in love (The weekends version)/What you need(the weekend.)

A/N: Happy kinktober. It’s been a minute. (I've returned just for this years kinktober) idk i’ve just been busy fr. I haven’t been writing at all 😭. But I was on tik tok right, and i saw this lil video abt a story. So yall know those reddit stories? Bro this story was fucking outrageous, i tell ya. So boom bro got cheated on by his gf and she slept w his best friend. I was like damnnnnn 💀 ain’t no way. So bro turned around n fcked his ex best friends sister. The crazy thing is HE RECORDED IT. AND HE SENT IT TO BRO. I got carried away w this one. (I was high asf.) But anyway please enjoy! My grammar might be fucked up i didn’t feel like prof reading. Mdni/ageless blogs you will be blocked. 17+.

Warnings: F/M relations,Jealousy, angst if you squint, friend dumping, lewd behavior, DRUGS & alcohol. (mary J) mentions of Ex, BJ’s, Male receiving, unprotected sex (I got a little nasty w this one)

————————————————

You sat there disappointed in your dry phone. It was like looking at a blank screen. The night was cold, dark, and quiet. Everything was different now that you cut off your toxic-ass best friend. Deleting all the pictures and videos of you two. All the happiness and laughter y’all had shared just for it to be ruined in a few hours. The incident only happened a few days ago.

You decide to scroll through your alt account’s Instagram feed hoping to see something interesting. Something interesting indeed popped up. A little green circle around your ex-best friend’s profile picture. “Curiosity killed the cat ya’know?”, It surely killed you as soon as you clicked it. She was with your Ex. Your face scrunched in disbelief. You couldn’t help but muster up a pitiful laugh. What was going through her goddamn mind? Did she know the alt belong to you? Was the random pinterest boy profile picture not convincing enough? You nearly tossed your phone to the ground you felt tears bubbling up in your eyes. You remember the whole thing like it was yesterday. The horrible things you said to each other. But one thing she said in particular stuck in your head. “You aren’t even together anymore! Why the fuck do you care Y/n?”, Those were the last words she said to you, the last words you needed to hear to leave her alone. It hurt you so much, the girl you known from middle school betrayed you.

It was late maybe around 11 pm. Your mind was filled with anger. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. You told her everything and she did the same. You two grew up together. When you introduced your boyfriend and best friend they hit it off. They were so cool with each other that it seemed like a dream come true. Having your best friend actually like your boyfriend was extremely rare to come by. Your dream came short-lived after you found them fucking in a bathroom at a party. It hurt so fucking bad. You clenched your shirt trying not to cry. That night broke you, you lost everything in 4 hours. All it took was a couple of shots and one blunt to have your whole world crash. In a fit of rage, you decided to go through her entire Instagram feed. Scrolling through every single post. In a recent post from earlier today, you saw a dump of her stepbrother. All of the pictures were silly, cute pictures of him. You couldn’t lie, he was fine as fuck. You saw her stepbrother a couple of times when y'all were younger, but god did puberty hit him good. He was tall and muscular with a sharp jawline. He has white hair and beautiful ocean-colored eyes. He had a couple of arm tattoos as well. You sat there trying to remember his name. You looked over the caption trying to find something leading to him, the caption read: “HAPPY 19th BIRTHDAY @satoruxgxjo! I hope 19 treats you good lil, bro :).” That was his name! You finally remembered him. Satoru gojo, it was definitely moan-able. You DM’D him almost immediately.

(Y/n): “Hey! I saw your birthday was earlier and I wanted to wish you a happy 19th birthday!” You didn’t know what you expected him to say back to that. You didn’t know if you wanted him to immediately block you or text you back. Maybe if he blocked you would be able to move on and heal. But all you wanted was revenge. After two minutes you got a notification from Instagram. (satoruxgxjo): “Yo, I appreciate it. it’s been a minute. How have you been?” A smug smile arose on your face. You instantly texted him back. (Y/n): “I’ve been amazing. Recently I had just got some za from a friend and since it’s your birthday maybe we can roll up?” You watch as your text goes from Sent to Seen. Your heart immediately went faster.(satoruxgxjo): “Lmao? That was quick but sure. I don’t mind. Addy?” Your face was sinister. If he could see your face right here probably think twice about his current decision. You sent him your location, (Y/n): “I mean it’s not like we don’t know each other Saturo, just pull up :) We can catch up!”, You were so happy that this was gonna work out perfectly. (satoruxgxjo): “Who is Saturo? It’s Satoru* n I’m otw.” That happiness quickly faded into embarrassment. How could you forget his name already? You repeated it 10x to remember it, while repeating his name you quickly got up and rushed upstairs.

You dressed yourself in a loose shirt that hung off your shoulders, your chest was the only thing holding it up. Underneath you made sure to treat your guests to an easy reveal no bra and pink Victoria's Secret lace panties. Your hair was messy letting little strands of hair frame your face. You rushed downstairs to set everything up, you grabbed an open bottle of Hennessy and accompanied it with a jar of bud including a pack of Raw’s. Everything was set for the most part. You dimmed the lights and played some sensual music. You turned your TV on to some random Netflix show to make it seem casual. You soon turned your attention to the door as the doorbell rang. A wicked smile placed on your face, your hips swaying to the music. You opened the door and smiled at your victim—I mean visitor. “Heyy~.” Your voice filled with a welcoming tone. Luring him in like a fisherman. “Hey, Y/n.” He had a basic white shirt on, and his muscular body filled it out nicely. His lower half was hidden behind grey sweatpants, He had on white cross that were no longer white. His tall frame continued to tower over you. He sounded so nonchalant, but his blue eyes told a different story. He couldn’t stop looking at your bare shoulders. “Come in hun.” You moved out of his way and motioned him to the couch. The table caught his attention immediately. You made your way to the kitchen swaying to the beat of the music. “Henny? Whatcha got this for?” He picked up the bottle with an eager smile. “Why else Satoru?” You winked at him. Watching him open the bottle and pour himself a shot. “Well, Hopefully, it’s not for little ole me. God, you wouldn’t make such a silly mistake and give an underage boy Hennessy? Right?” He asked mocking you. A smug expression on his face. You couldn’t wait to wipe it off. “Oh of course not! I would never do such a disgraceful thing. But..I won’t tell if you won’t.” He threw his head back and he gulped down the shot of liquor. The burning sensation only made him crave it more. “You know I don’t kiss and tell.” He chuckled as he watched you sit down on the couch. He soon followed you and plopped down beside you. “You ever rolled before?” You looked at him as you picked up the grinder. “Nah, I’m more of a pipe or hookah person. Ya’know?” You giggled at him. He was falling into your trap without even knowing. “Lemme show you how to roll then.”. You took him through the basic steps. Letting your hands guide his. After a few attempts, he was able to get a good enough roll for a beginner. “And now ya gotta lick it.” You bent over his lap using his muscular arm to hold yourself up. You dragged your tongue over the paper making sure to seal it. You took the joint from him and began to light it. His eyes watched you dangerously. After a couple of pulls, you handed it back over to him. He pulled a heavy hit making him cough. You poured another shot for the both of you. Handing him a glass of liquor. “Oh? Is that for me? How kind.” Your hand sat between his thighs. “Of course.” He took the glass and knocked it back, and you followed his lead.

You weren’t slightly drunk nor were you high. But you couldn’t say the same for Satoru. He almost finished your bottle of Hennessy. His head was between your neck and shoulder. He was mumbling incoherent nonsense, you didn’t particularly care what he was babbling about. He was lying between your legs using your chest to keep him propped up. His hands rubbing your thigh, “Mm..please.” He mumbled desperately. “I told you not to drink too much Gojo. Now look at you.” You laughed as you rubbed his head. “.. I know. m’ sorry. Please y/n. Please.” You were confused you didn’t know what he was asking for to be quite frank. “You should get an Uber to take you home.” You nudged him to get off of you. He didn’t budge at all. His eyes looked up at you pleading with you. “I don’t wanna go. I wanna stay with you. lemme stay.” He was so whiny while he was drunk it was pissing you off. “Okay, you can stay.” He hummed softly in response. “upstairs?” You whispered in his ear, he nodded his head. You moved off the couch pulling him off with you. You walked him up the stairs to your bedroom. He was stumbling up the stairs you had to hold him up. Making it to your room in one piece was the hardest part. Opening the door his hands never left your body, If anything they became more needy. His fingers roamed around your back as he began to tug at your shirt.

You grabbed his hands telling him to stop. “I don’t know...if we should do this...I’m sure your sister wouldn’t like this.” You smiled as you pushed him on the bed. Of course, she wouldn’t like her brother sleeping with her ex-best friend. But that made it more exhilarating. Satoru groaned at your words. Bringing up what you and his sister had going on at a time like this was a low blow. “Don’t fuck with me Y/n. You’ve been touching me all night. Saying little shit to me. I’m ready now, and you’re gonna act like this?” You heard the frustration in his voice, looking down at his gray sweats pants you saw what else was frustrated. You laughed at him. “Oh look who’s mad at me. I’m just trying to respect you and your sister's relationship.” Your hands go under his shirt and rub his abs. He laughed as his arm covered his face. “Ah, so I understand why she called you a conniving bitch now.” Your smug face was quickly wiped with confusion. “Oh…Yeah? She gonna think I’m more than conniving after this.” You grabbed him by his hair pulling him closer. Your lips clashed against his, you could taste the intoxication on his tongue. The kiss became sloppy fairly quickly. His hands continued to roam over your back. He followed your lead not allowing your mouth to leave his. He yanked at your shirt, he wanted to pull it off of you. Sitting on his lap, you took off your shirt and tossed it to the side. His hands went up to cup your breasts. His fingers ran over your hardened nipples, his expression was darkened with lust. “So fckin pretty.” He sat up leaving kisses on your neck and chest. You assisted him in taking off his shirt and tossed it over to yours. Leaving kisses on his neck and slowly moving downward to his chest. Taking your precious time with him. He was so impatient, whining if you didn’t kiss him. You used your finger to trace his v-line teasing him enough to push him. You got up and slowly removed his sweatpants leaving him in his tight boxers. Licking your lips at the sight, it was a delectable sight indeed. Tracing the bulging print through his Ethikas. “Oh my god…” You stuttered in disbelief, this man was packing. Satoru felt you tugging his boxers, he lifted his hips and allowed you to yank them off of him. The cold air hit him drawing out a long sigh. Those blue eyes watching you with a dangerous glint, those eyes screaming out for you. “don’t play with me Y/n.” He whispered, almost as if he was begging you to make him feel something. You seated yourself between his thighs, looking at him with awe. Your hands running up and down his hardened dick. You gave him kitten licks on his tip, licking away any pre-cum. He growled at the teasing, “C'mon.” his hand caressingyour cheeks. You smiled as you quickly put your mouth around the tip and bobbed your head up and down.

His tip hits the back of your throat every time. Satoru’s hand pushed your head down so he could feel you deep-throat him, “Fuuucckk, just like that.” You pulled your head back with an angry expression. “Nobody likes a head pusher.”, You glared at him. “Nobody likes a fucking teaser.” He mumbled. You laughed at his audacity as if he was the one in control. You slipped off your underwear and climbed on top of him. Letting him slide in slowly, inch by inch. You threw your head backward, rolling your neck. Low moans escaped your mouth as you felt his hips grinning against yours. “Go faster.” His tone completely shifted from whiny and desperate to frustration. He wanted more, He needed more. It wasn’t enough for him. You looked so pretty going up and down on him. His eyes watched your body lift itself off of him and right back down. Your nails dug holes in his chest, “That fuckin’ hurts Y/n.” He gave you a sadistic smile as he dug his nails into your hips. You shrieked in pain. You could quite literally feel his nails penetrate your skin. That didn’t stop you though, you couldn’t care less about anything other than cumming. Your mind became foggy and filled with a certain haze. “Mm. Keep going. Dnt stop.”, Those words left Satoru’s mouth, his thrusts were sloppy and no longer had rhythm. His fingers found their way to your clit and played with you to make sure you came before him. Your moans filled the room as you were so close. You stopped as you finally reached the bliss you been begging for, panting heavily trying to regain the breath you once had. The feeling of warm liquid filling you was a slap in the face. You soon realized you didn’t use protection. You looked down at Satoru whose eyes were closed with a smile of his face. “Oops, m’sorry i’ll get you a Plan B in the morning.” His hand gripped your ass while you sat there in disbelief. How could you fuck up this bad? You smiled as you seen him cover his face once again, “Don’t worry about it. I have some in the bathroom.”. You got off of him and made your way to the bathroom.

When you came back you saw sleeping Satoru, under your sheets wrapped around your blanket. It was a cute sight to see him so vulnerable, you were about to fuck up his life. You crawled into bed next to him, cuddling him. He turned around and placed his head between your breast, his arm wrapped around your lower back pulling you close. You took out your phone and took a couple of pictures. This bitch was gonna know “Fuck my man, I fuck your brother.”. You unblocked her number to send her a little treat. “When Satoru comes home tomorrow tell him I had a wonderful time. (3 attachments sent).”.

You turned off your phone and cuddled the sleeping boy, kissing his forehead and cheeks. “Mm, she's gonna fuck you up when you get home.” You whispered in his ear. His phone was soon blowing up, From his mom and sister. “I don't care, you don't know how long I've been waiting to fuck you.” He muttered under his breath. You laughed, He wasn’t going anywhere. Not just yet.

[fuzzkaizer]

Montreal Assembly - Worng Side Of Uranus

"If you’re a regular Cabinet peruser, you’ve joined me as I waxed nostalgic for time periods I’ve never lived in, you’ve noticed me orating some company and component history, and you’ve almost certainly seen me talk about the best effects in their respective classes. And while there are plenty of classes and there is certainly enough love to go around, today I present you with my favorite pedal of all time: the Montreal Assembly Wrong Side of Uranus.

While many of you know Scott Monk and his amazing company for the Count to 5, he’s been in business for much longer than you think, and he’s made more things than most people know about. I first found out about him in 2009 while chasing wares by one of pedal history’s most sought-after builders, Etienne Blythe of Sonic Crayon.

If you were as into pedals as I was in the late-aughts… well, there’s a chance you still may never have heard of Sonic Crayon. However, at one time, Sonic Crayon’s wares were in extreme demand, with resellers ransacking the limited inventory and flipping the pedals for four times the price. His most famous may have been the Hollow Earth. His most unobtainable may have been the Anti-Nautilus. The one I wanted was the Moth.

The Moth was Sonic Crayon’s bitcrusher, and back in 2008 and 2009, that wasn’t an effect you could get just anywhere. However, Sonic Crayon had an old-school way of doing things: When he felt like making a batch, he did. Then he put 10 or so up for sale on his blog, and by word of mouth they’d sell out in minutes. One time, when checking his blog for a potential drop, I saw a new post where he said that if you’re tired of waiting for a Moth, there’s another Canadian guy making bitcrushers and that his were admittedly better. Who am I to argue? Let’s go.

That company was Montreal Assembly. At that time, Scott had only released two pedals, the Uranus and another insane device called Probability of a Fax Machine. When I heard the crude “basement demos,” I was sold. The problem: the sales tactics were exactly the same as Sonic Crayon—made and sold whenever. I never caught one. But my friend did.

My friend had gone off to college and left a present for me. I took a train and met their dad at a station in the suburbs, retrieved the box and opened it right there on the train. The Uranus was inside. When I got home I plugged everything I could into it. I messaged its creator, Scott, on Gmail Chat and geeked out when he answered.

I asked him if it was possible to add a mix circuit to the Uranus and Scott took time out of studying for signal processing exams to draw me up a somewhat complicated add-on schematic. Being somewhat intermediate with prototyping board, I hadn’t done a whole lot of my own stripboard layouts. Be that as it may, I cobbled it together. It worked. Now, I could blend the clean signal in with the bitcrushed one.

Despite being housed in a spray painted computer project box and featuring a barren aesthetic landscape, the Uranus is an impeccably engineered piece of sonic kit. Like most bitcrushers, there are knobs for bit rate and sample rate reduction. The third is volume. However, the bit rate knob is a pushbutton rotary encoder; as you turn it, it displays the bitrate in the seven-segment display. When the pedal is in bypass, the display flashes “bypass,” one letter at a time. Pressing down on the rotary encoder cycles through a slew of modes—ten to be exact—called things like “Dialup,” “Hostile” and more, including an incredible bitcrushed trem called “Blipo'' and a modulated sample rate mode called “Plunger.” It’s total labor-of-love stuff and I am here for it.

Mine is labeled 2010 and is one of a handful known to exist, and the only one with this mix knob. You may have seen one in a promotional photo that Strymon posted of its El Capistan being used in the studio by Godspeed! You Black Emperor, with the Uranus riding sidesaddle. Many, many people have never heard of it, and some of you may have never heard of Montreal Assembly before now. I urge you to change that.

At NAMM 2020, I actually saw Scott walking by our booth and I recognized him from some old demos. I ran down the aisle and tapped him on the shoulder. He looked right at me, then read my name badge, looked back up and said “Heyyy, Kula, how’s that bitcrusher treating you?” What a legend."

cred: catalinbread.com/blogs/kulas-cabinet/montreal-assembly-wrong-side-of-uranus

[irwinsblender]

hi!!! i saw your neurodivergent fic with ashton and absolutely loved it! this is totally okay if you don’t wanna write another one , but could you possibly write one about neurodivergent s/o and having a meltdown one day and he helps you through it and its very fluffy and cute:(

totally okay if not!!! i love your blog so so much:)

thank you for sending this in! i’m sorry for taking so long to get to this request! i slightly rushed this one because i really wanted to get it out and i’ve unfortunately been dealing with writers block again, so i apologise if it’s not the best.

—

meltdown

pairing: ashton x nd!reader

summary: things are busy when ashton comes home from tour and you get overwhelmed, but ash is there to help you through it

warnings: autistic meltdown, autistic overstimulation

word count: 3.5k

✩ ✩ ✩

for the most part, you handled your autism just fine. ashton had become used to it, learned what your triggers were and how to help you out of being overwhelmed from certain things.

however, there were still days that things became too much for you and even comfort from ashton didn’t always help at first.

today was one of those days.

you had been trying to stay positive for ashton’s sake, he came back from tour a mere three days ago. as much as you loved him being back home with you, it had shaken up your routine big time.

the same as when he first left for tour, you were uncomfortable for a few days while trying to navigate a new schedule without ashton being there. it took a while of phone calls and texts, trying to find a way for you to deal with the change. you got there in the end.

you’d hoped that when ashton came home, it would just be you and him for a while. you’d mentally prepared yourself for that to be the only change, having him back home within your schedule again. of course, things weren’t that simple.

the band had decided they wanted to continue making music whilst on tour, jotting down ideas while on the road, figuring they’d meet up once back home to do more writing and recording at the studio.

this meant a different thing happening every week, a different thing almost every day. it was a lot for you to get used to.

some days you’d wake up snuggled together with ashton, get up late, have breakfast together and enjoy each others company all day. other days, ashton would be up early, the guys would come over to work in the home studio, additions of other friends would be there to help with music. sometimes people you’d never met before would be there, catching you off guard. it was a lot to adjust to.

today was another busy day. you were woken up with ashton kissing your cheek, whispering that he loved you and that breakfast would be ready in the kitchen once you wanted to get out of bed.

you heard some noise not long after that, the front door slamming shut, lots of talking and laughter, what sounded like the tv in the living room, before footsteps going back and forth between the home studio and living room.

it was a good two hours before it stopped. that’s when ashton decided to come upstairs to check on you, to see if you were awake or not to let you know about new plans for the day.

he quietly walked inside the bedroom, seeing you were awake, laying on your side in bed with the blankets still covering you. he smiled softly, making his way over to you.

“afternoon, baby,” he kneeled down next to where you were. “how are you doing?”

“i’m okay,” you reached towards him, running your hand through his fluffy curls. “had a lot going on already today?”

“oh, yea, sorry about that,” ashton sighed, he’d hoped it hadn’t been bothering you. “i told them to keep it down multiple times, i didn’t meant to wake you up.”

you shook your head, telling him not to worry. “that’s why i wasn’t gonna come down until i knew they were all gone,” you shrugged. “knew it was the guys anyway.”

ashton stood up, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to where you were laying. placing his hand on your shoulder to run it up and down your arm soothingly. he took a breath, as if preparing himself for the next words to leave his mouth.

“we were thinking about going out for an early dinner tonight, if you felt up to it?” he asked.

“we? as in not just the band? me as well?” you needed to make sure that’s what he meant. on such short notice too.

“i know i'm not giving you much time, and if you don’t want to go, i’ll stay home,” he reassured, not wanting to leave you here alone. “it’ll be the guys and their girlfriends. that’s all. just a little post tour celebration that they thought might be nice.”

you didn’t say anything for a few minutes. thinking things over in your head. it’s still morning, you had until tonight to prepare yourself. it would be you, ashton, the guys, their other halves, everyone you knew. most likely at a restaurant you’ve been to multiple times in the past. it shouldn’t be too bad.

“where?” you questioned.

“that semi fancy restaurant in the middle of town,” he confirmed. “the italian place.”

“okay, um, sure, yea,” you hesitantly agreed. “just let me have a shower and then i’ll come down for some late breakfast.”

late breakfast, as in your routine is to get up, shower, then have breakfast. you always had a shower before breakfast, so that would stay the same today. you needed one thing in your schedule to be the same as it always is.

“are you sure?” ashton asked. not wanting you to feel like you had to do this.

“yea, it’s fine,” it really wasn’t fine. “just give me like… thirty minutes. i’ll be quick.”

“alright,” he leaned down, kissing your forehead softly.

after he left the room, you got to showering right away. finding your towels, undressing in the bathroom before switching the shower on to try and get it to the exact temperature you liked it at. warm, but not too warm. if it was too warm, it almost felt like it could burn, but if you felt any ounce of cold water you’d have to get out of the shower and practically start over.

once you finished up, you got dressed into your loose fitting jeans along with a plain brown tee which you left untucked. you picked up a pair of socks from your drawer, going downstairs with your hair still wrapped in a towel. it’d air dry by the time you have to leave for the meal out.

when you entered the living room, ashton had a warmed up croissant and a cup of coffee ready for you on the table, smiling as you walked inside. he patted the couch beside him, inviting you to sit down.

you sat there, unmoving for a moment as you took a deep breath in, calming yourself now you’re here and ready for this only part of your routine to be the same.

“thank you for warming this up,” you picked up your plate, croissant cut in half for you to eat.

it took a few times for ashton to remember, but if you were going to eat a croissant, it had to be warmed up. just enough for it to still be soft, not crispy. if any of it flaked off, or if you got crumbs stuck to your hands, you absolutely hated it. with it soft, that didn’t happen as often. you appreciated it every time.

“of course, baby,” ashton sat back, holding his arm out for you to lean against him.

you started to eat your croissant, ashton’s arm around your waist while you leaned on your side, always happy to be close to him like this. although, with time ticking by, your mind couldn’t help but focus on the event happening not so far away.

“how loud was it in that restaurant last time we were there?” you asked.

“the music is normally pretty quiet,” ashton reassures you. “and the time we booked is normally quieter than later on, so it should be okay.”

you went quiet again, ashton was for a second before sharing an idea, “we can bring your headphones just incase—“

“no, no, it’s fine,” you shook your head. “i don’t like having to wear them in front of everyone, it’s embarrassing.”

“baby, it’s not embarrassing,” ashton sighed, sitting up to look at you properly. “it’s nothing to be ashamed of, it’s okay for you to need them to help make sure you’ll be okay and not get overwhelmed.”

you knew he was right, but it’s still taking you time to warm up to wearing them around your other friends. there’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just hard at times.

“i’m sure i’ll be fine.”

ashton accepted that you wouldn’t bring them, hugging you softly before he stood up, “i’m gonna go get changed,” he told you. “i’ll be down in a while.”

that while definitely went fast, as well as the time flying by before you’d be having to leave the house. your hair was dry, having been out of your towel to air dry for long enough. ashton was dressed, hair with his curls hanging slightly over his forehead, wearing black jeans and a button up shirt.

you’d be leaving for your early dinner in around thirty minutes. you had become slightly worried for this meal. you didn’t want to ruin things if the environment was too loud, too busy. that had happened too many times to count, and as much as ashton tried to tell you it didn’t matter, you felt like it did.

sat in the car, you couldn’t help but fiddle with your hands, watching where you were driving to. you knew the restaurant well enough, not entirely sure you wanted to be going there.

when you reached the parking lot, you didn’t move. you didn’t reach to take off your seatbelt, didn’t go to open your door. you sat bouncing your right leg up and down after seeing the amount of cars around you. why was it so busy, it’s not normally this busy.

ashton placed a hand on your knee, stopping it from bouncing as much, caressing his thumb back and fourth for comfort. you looked at him, chewing on the inside of you lip in the process.

“it’s gonna be loud in there, isn’t it?” you had a fearful look on your face, ashton sighed

“maybe we should go home,” ashton suggested. however, you shook your head. you weren’t about to let your autism ruin everything again. “why don’t you wear your headphones, baby, it’s what they’re for.”

he reached to the backseat, holding the headphones you’re sure you told him not to bring.

“everyone will stare, ash,” you leaned your head back against the headrest. “just— i’ll be fine. i’ll be fine.”

he took one last breath, nodding his head as he placed the headphones down. he was first to get out of the car, walking around to your door to open it for you. he took your hand after locking it, starting to walk over to the restaurant.

the second you stepped foot in the door you could hear how loud it was. music laying, almost completely full. a long table filled with people celebrating a birthday party. they were causing most of the noise. why today of all days.

ashton squeezed your hand, making you look at him, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you took more and more steps through the restaurant, finding the table where the band were already sitting at.

you didn’t greet them, didn’t even look at them, you couldn’t focus, your mind was racing. they understood that you didn’t deal well with loud noise or busy spaces, so this was not ideal for you at all.

the waiter brought everyone over some glasses of water, asking if you needed more time to decide on food. ashton answered for everyone, telling him you’d need more time.

you stared in front of you, whoever was there you were too overstimulated to care about that at this point. you were about to take a deep breath, when the loud noise of a group starting to sing happy birthday to someone at the table behind you started.

that was the last straw.

your hands started to sweat, your vision becoming blurry as tears welled up in your eyes. you couldn’t handle this. why did you ever think you’d be okay after so many things in your life changing over the past week. you had to get out of here, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“i can’t— i can’t be here,” you whispered, voice almost breaking. “i have to go.”

you frantically got up from your seat, trying not to lose your balance as your legs carried you to the door leading to the garden area at the back of the restaurant, hoping it would be quieter out there.

thankfully, it was, closed off to the public for whatever reason. you didn’t care right now. there were tears streaming down your face as you paced back and fourth on the wooden deck, hands locked into your hair as you tugged at the strands. something you did when you were way too overwhelmed.

you were mumbling to yourself, incoherent sentences that even you didn’t understand. your mind was racing, barely in control of your own actions.

it wasn’t long before ashton appeared outside to find where you were. seeing you, he walked over cautiously, leaving space as you continued to pace, the tugging on your hair getting worse as you cried out. he didn’t make any sudden movements, sitting himself on the seat nearest to you.

“i shouldn’t have suggested coming here, i'm sorry, baby,” ashton apologised whether you could hear him or not. “your headphones are in the car, and there’s a weighted blanket in there too.”

as he spoke, your mind started to calm, ashton was the only person who had ever been able to get you to settle in these situations. however, you shook your head as your feet slowed down for you to almost stop walking back and fourth.

ashton held his hand out in front of him, giving you the option to take it when you were ready. you managed to remove one hand from your hair, placing it in his. he squeezed softly, trying to give you some pressure to focus on.

“it’s okay, love, we’re gonna get you home, okay?” he calmly spoke. “can you give me your other hand? i don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

your hand tugged a couple more times, eventually you calmed enough to stop. but you didn’t place your hand in his, instead you took a step back, causing him to release your other hand. all you did was hold your arms out, making grabby hands at him. your way of asking for a hug when you weren’t able to verbally ask.

he stood immediately, slowly and gently wrapping his arms around your shoulders, resting his head on top of yours as he held you tight. you placed your arms around his torso, feeling his body enveloping you was one of your favourite feelings, one of the only things that could help make you feel better.

ashton felt your chest rising and falling at a fast speed, knowing you still needed some time to calm down. sometimes it took a while, sometimes it would be fast. he wasn’t sure how today would be.

“can you breathe with me, sweetheart?” he asked. “in and out, feel what i’m doing.”

as he took the first breath in, holding it for a few seconds before releasing, he thankfully felt you copying soon after. taking as many deep breaths as he did. when he realised you didn’t seem to be calming down, he knew he’d have to try and get you back to the car.

“we should get you back home, baby,” ashton kissed your head, letting go of you to take your hand instead.

he pulled you along with him, around to the front of the restaurant where the car was parked. he opened the door, helping you inside. leaving your door open, he found your weighted blanket in the back, grabbing it out to bring to you. he draped it over your legs, pulling it up to cover to your shoulders.

he rushed around to the drivers side, wanting to get back home as soon as possible. the drive was stressful, he knew it would be. you cried, gasped for air in your state, it pained him that he even brought you out. he rested his hand on your thigh above the blanket until you were pulling into the driveway, knowing you’d be inside soon.

“we’re home now,” ashton switched the ignition off, turning to you. seeing you were much calmer than before. “ready to go inside?”

you nodded, letting him wipe away a few tears from your cheeks. he helped you out of the car and up to the doorstep, unlocking the door in front of you. walking to the sofa, ashton helped you to sit down against the pillows, getting you comfortable before doing anything.

“do you need anything, baby?” ashton asked, kneeling down in front of you. “your headphones? or i can get you one of my hoodies to put on too?”

you didn’t reply for a moment, but nodded your head, not speaking. but he’d asked two questions, about to ask if you meant the headphones or hoodie, when you answered quietly.

“hoodie,” you mumbled.

ashton stood, rushing upstairs to find your favourite hoodie of his. he brought it down to you, helping you to pull it over your head and slip your arms into the sleeves. he adjusted your top underneath, making sure it wasn’t twisted or caught up in a way that would make you feel worse again.

finally, he sat down next to you, pulling you to lean back against his chest with his arms wrapped around you. your weighted blanket covering you, keeping your mind occupied with the feeling, ashton squeezing you helped too.

you sat in silence for a while, not sure how much time passed, but it was more than it normally is. a mixture of ashton having to leave for tour, and then him coming home from tour to make more music, all causing your routine to change too much for you to cope with.

ashton felt bad. he always hated when you became overwhelmed like this. he hated it even more that he felt it was his fault. he knew how you were with your schedule, and yet he asked you to come to dinner anyway.

you started feeling better, ashton never letting you go until you told him to do so. you leaned your head back to look up at him, smiling softly. he leaned down, pecking your lips a couple of times.

“i’m sorry,” you apologised. mostly for ruining dinner but also for the way you reacted.

“baby, you don’t need to apologise, there’s nothing to be sorry for,” ashton shook his head. “after so many things going on since i came home, i shouldn’t have asked about going out, we should’ve stayed home.”

you shrugged. you didn’t want him blaming himself. it’s not his fault that you get overwhelmed over the most simple things. he shouldn’t have to change the way he does things because of you.

“you got home, made some music,” you started quietly. “not a lot has happened really.”

“we’ve talked about this, my love,” ashton tucked your hair behind your ears. “it’s okay if anything becomes too much, i don’t mind taking things slow until you’re used to me being home again.”

“you shouldn’t have to.”

“but i will,” he told you. “as long as you need, it’ll just be me here from now on, whatever you need or want to do, just let me know, okay?”

“okay,” you mumbled.

you turned onto your side, snuggling up to ashton beside you. he kissed your cheek, holding you as close as he could. he’d do anything to make sure you’re okay, he just wished he’d realised from the start that he should’ve waited longer for you to adjust.

“how’re you feeling now?” he asked.

you shrugged at first. still not feeling like yourself. mostly tired, exhausted from being overwhelmed with too many things going on.

“how about we watch a movie?” ashton suggested. “try and distract yourself a bit more.”

“tangled?” you asked.

“course, baby,” ashton shuffled himself, reaching for the tv remote.

he knew you’d pick that movie, he would put anything on for you if it meant you’d feel a little better. tangled always made you feel better, one of your teenage comfort movies which carried with you as you got older.

as soon as the movie started you were fully engaged with it, fiddling with ashton’s hand in yours at the same time to give you more to do. your weighted blanket helped too.

you leaned your head on ashton’s shoulder, feeling tired after a while, closing your eyes. you let out a breath, finally letting yourself relax.

ashton looked down at you, glad to see you were finally able to get some rest. he kissed your cheek, noticing you’d dropped his hand into your lap, clearly having fallen asleep quite fast. you needed this and he’d let you sleep as long as you needed with him here.

“i’m sorry for today, tomorrow will be better, i promise,” ashton whispered. “i love you.”

✩ ✩ ✩

taglist: @hexsdexs @conspiracy-ash @oliviah-25 @superbloomrry | if you would like to join my taglist, please comment here or see this post

[softxsuki]

HIiiii! Could I request a letter for your Valentines Day Letter Event?

I’d like one with Nanami Kento with civilian Fem!Reader please. For pet names, im a sucker if he called me ‘love’ in the letter.

We’re in an established relationship for a few years; meeting him during his office era and supporting him going back to being a sorcerer

Tone/Genre: adoration and attention. he’s been very busy and hasn’t been giving me much attention so he acknowledges the things that I’ve been doing and praising them.

Location: we live together, but hasnt been home in a while since he’s been busy with work. He left the letter on the bedside table saying that he’ll see me very soon (he took the day off and is making breakfast now)

Other info:

Were around 27/28 I’m a very loud person but only when comfortable and don’t need the praise of others; however it’s rewarding when I think someone doesn’t care is actually very attentive on what I’ve accomplished. I carry out my own activities (sports, music, cooking) while striving for my carrier (studying and planning). But gets lost easily and gets touched starved and he’s there to ground me, even though it doesn’t seem like he likes it, it’s always something he’s looking forward to.

Thank you! And btw I really admire the changes you’re making within your blog!! Been here since the beginning and will be here to support. Always sending hugs!

Nanami's Love Letter to His Girlfriend

This event is now CLOSED, but you can view the masterlist for the other letters here.

| Pairing: Nanami x Fem!Reader| Genre: Fluff | Post-Type: Letter | Word Count: 790 |

Warnings: kissing

Note: Hey! Thank you so much and Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you like your letter from Nanami! &lt;3

You awaken that morning with a sigh as you look at the empty space beside you–another day of not seeing your boyfriend. Of course you knew he was busy with his sorcerer work, claiming there was a rise of curses around and they needed as many hands on deck to get rid of them.

You felt bad for him, knowing how much he hated working overtime and would much rather do the work he needed to do for the day so he could return to you, but that wasn’t possible. 

Sighing once more, you turn around to hop out your side of the bed, when a small envelope with your name on it catches your eye. With furrowed brows you sit with your feet dangling off the side of the bed and open the envelope to read it’s contents;

Good morning love,

I’m sorry I’ve been away for a few days, you don’t know how much I missed falling asleep beside you, holding you tightly in my arms; it’s the only way I can get a full night of rest now. 

Thankfully I was able to finish up my work quick enough to make it back today. Happy Valentine’s Day, my love. Is that cheesy to say? I just love having a day where I can love you till my heart's content all day long; not that I'd complain about doing that every day, you know I would.

I see how hard you’ve been working, keeping yourself busy while I was away to help pass the time. You’re truly a remarkable woman, I can’t believe you’re mine. You’ve been with me through it all, and I hope I can do the same for you now. Despite this heavy burden of being a sorcerer, I’ll make it all up to you, I vow this to you.

I’ll see you sooner than you think. I love you dearly.

Kento.xx.

Your heart races as you read the letter. Had he stopped by to drop it off while you were asleep? Excitement runs through you at the thought of being able to see him again soon. Especially on a day that was supposed to be dedicated to love…it was perfect.

A sudden rustle from outside your bedroom door has you alert as you think of the worst. Was it a curse? An intruder? Or…possibly the man you were longing to see?

You quickly tuck your feet into your slippers before hastily running towards the sound, not caring that it could be something dangerous, just knowing there was a chance that it was Nanami, had adrenaline running through your veins.

The sound carries you all the way to the kitchen where lo and behold, a tall blond was standing with his back facing you, as he worked away in front of the stove, the sudden smell of food filling your nose. He had your apron tied around his waist with his sleeves rolled up, showing his forearms–his usual attire on.

“Kento…” you mumble, causing Nanami to spin around, his eyes softening as they meet yours. He moves the pan off the stove and hurries to where you’re standing, scooping you up in his arms (IDC IF YOU'RE 80 POUNDS OR 500 POUNDS, THIS MAN WILL SCOOP YOU UP! OKAY????)

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping tightly around you, “Good morning, love” his soothing voice whispers in your ear, nibbling on your earlobes as he does so, getting a reaction out of you.

You have to stop the tears from spilling from your eyes as you wrap your arms around him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

“I missed you,” you say softly, clinging onto him for dear life. You wouldn’t let him run away from you again today. Today he was all yours. “When did you come back?”

“Not too long ago. I finished what I needed to do. The situation is stable for now. The others have it under control so I came to see you. I have to leave again tomorrow though, but today, you have my undivided attention,” he mumbles, gently pulling your chin up, his lips crashing onto yours.

“Mm and first on our schedule is breakfast. Hope you’re hungry,” he presses one last kiss to your lips before putting you down and taking your hand as he leads you to the stove where an array of different foods are already cooked for you.

He had gone above and beyond for you that morning, but it was the least he could do for the one he loved dearly. And it was only the beginning of your day together. He had plenty more up his sleeve to show you how much you truly meant to him.

Posted: 2/14/2024

[crow-in-gotham]

BLOG POST NO. 12 - WTF IS A BATMAN

If there is one thing that I have learned about the people of this city, it is the fact that literally everyone here loves to gossip. Like seriously, you see it everywhere, from people of all ages, young or old. I’m not complaining about it by any means (I’m Filipino, being a marites is kinda in my blood) but it’s just a little bit jarring to be on the bus, just peacefully minding my own business, then suddenly overhear someone gossiping in the seats behind me.

Which is exactly what happened to me today on my ride to school.

The apparent topic of the day? The identity of the ever mysterious Batman.

I know, I know, the topic has been talked about so much that if you compiled all the conspiracy theories regarding this and printed it out, the amount of paper you’d fill up might just be enough to reach the halfway point between the Earth and the Moon.

But regardless of how overdone this topic is, it’s still a pretty interesting thing to talk about. After all, absolutely no one knows who Batman is, or if he’s even a man in the first place. For all we know, the “man” in his name might be a red herring and he’s actually some eldritch alien sent from beyond the Milky Way to lull the world into a false sense of security so he can open a portal into the Dark Dimension and take over the entire world as an evil overlord.

Too much? Yeah, I think so too— but hey, what else am I supposed to do during my Differential Equations class, actually listen to the lecture? Pssh, nahhh— my attention span is way too short to sit through an entire 3 hours of just constantly being bombarded by numbers (I am so fucked).

Anyway, back to the topic at hand— Batman’s identity.

I’ve seen so many theories floating around about this, but only two in particular are that memorable for me personally. Well, three if you count the last one (we’ll get to that).

The first theory was that it might be this dude named Harvey Dent (had to look him up— and man, all I can say is that I’m sorry), but uh certain events have completely debunked that. If you live in Gotham then you know exactly what I’m talking about, and if you don’t then uh go do a quick internet search, I’m too lazy to spoon feed you all the information you need (you gotta learn how to do your own research somehow).

Then there’s the whole “Batman is Bruce Wayne” thing which is like, okay, I know where they’re going with this but at the same time I’m kinda ehh on it, you know? For one, Bruce Wayne looks too much like a personified teddy bear (I have said this once and I’ve said it again) to be the civilian identity of the literal definition of darkness and “it’s not a phase” but bat furry coded. I just don’t think the dude that flirts with women and men (istg the amount of times the tabloids just conveniently skip past this— I know for a fact I’m not the only one who’s seen that photo of this dude grab the waist of that male reporter from the Daily Planet— I see them) every chance he gets is the same guy who puts on a bat costume (am I allowed to make another furry joke?) to beat up bad guys in the middle of the night.

So what I’m trying to get at here is that I see the point being made, and I acknowledge it, but I just feel like we need more concrete evidence, you know?

I hope to fuck that I did not just summon an entire mob to come after me for that last bit.

Anyhow, onto my final theory, which is the fact that Batman might just be a cryptid born from the shadows of Gotham herself. This connects to the whole “Gotham is alive” conspiracy that started circulating around a few years ago. I don’t know how popularized it is, but it ended up reaching me when I was browsing through some forums a couple weeks back and honestly, even if it’s not true, it makes for an interesting thought. Because hey, what if cities are alive? That’d be interesting (and is also mildly terrifying).

The basic idea of this theory is the fact that Batman, thanks to being a cryptid and all that, isn’t actually human and therefore doesn’t have a human identity. He’s just Batman. As for why Gotham made him in the form of a human, not many people really answer this question (or more like no one really bothers to ask), but here’s my thoughts: I think Gotham made Batman into a humanoid because we as humans are often more inclined to be comfortable with something if it’s in the form of something familiar to us (hence, human). Like, imagine if Batman wasn’t human and was something like a massive blur of shadow and tendrils— wouldn’t that freak you the fuck out? Regardless of whether or not it saved you, you’ll still feel fucking terrified of it. But if it’s someone that just looks like a dude in a costume, then doesn’t that make you a little less scared? (I say “a little less” because let’s be real, human or not, Batman excels in being terrifying)

Well, that’s all under the assumption that the whole “Batman is a Cryptid” and “Gotham is Alive” are true.

Or that Batman even exists.

I’m pretty sure he does but there’s a lot of people that are saying otherwise, so I feel like I should at least acknowledge the fact that some people think he’s not real? Like, I even have classmates who say that Batman is just a tale told to kids so they don’t misbehave and stay out for too long— which, okay, that’s fair. I’ve heard my fair share of scary stories and beings throughout my childhood as well to be honest— also from adults who thought it’d be a great way to keep me obedient (mostly my titos and titas, my ma and pa never really liked scaring me or my brother)

Buut, I’m going to have to disagree with those points because I’ve heard Red Hood talk to his little earpiece thing (yes, Red Hood, I know you have one, because literally every vigilante/hero in a team should— no, I do not care if you say you’re a crime lord, you saved me from a mugger, get over it). And you know who he called out to one time? Batman.

And okay, to be fair, Red Hood could’ve just said the name to keep convincing people that Batman is real when he’s not, but honestly I don’t think Mr. Bleeding Bat Symbol over here would be that dedicated in making Gotham believe in something that isn’t real.

But I digress.

Do I actually care about Batman's real identity? Absolutely not. As long as the dude doesn’t bother me then I have nothing against his questionable life choices (I mean come on, what kind of life choices lead you to dressing up like a crime fighting bat?).

And also he keeps Gotham marginally safer, I guess, so that’s a win in my book.

As for the whole “What’s Batman’s relationship with Bruce Wayne?”— I've also given it some thought.

And honestly a part of me thinks they might be exes… or divorced.

But that’s a ramble for another time— I need to study for my next class.

[vampire-rodeo]

☆☆☆☆ Intro Post! ☆☆☆☆

“it’s so hard being sexy and mentally unwell at the same time. every day, people ask me; ‘mars, how do you do it? how can we aspire to be as beautiful and autistic as you?’ and i always tell them- it’s just natural talent.”

Hi! My name is Markus, I’m a huge nerd and a pagan witch, and my pronouns are he/him. I’m from Texas (USA) and my main hobby’s are drawing, painting, writing and volunteering.

I’ve been caring less and less gradually about what I post nowadays, I’ve accepted that I’m weird and cringe. Which I am very much, weird and cringe. This is your warning

My Pronouns Page (English)

⬇️⬇️More info after cut ⬇️⬇️

☆☆ My fandoms ☆☆

Star Trek! Especially TOS 🖖

Doctor Who (NuWho)

DC Comics

Psych (2006)

Rocky Horror Picture Show

Jekyll and Hyde: The Musical

Ben Folds

☆☆ Statements ☆☆

Gatekeeping labels is cringe, let people do what they want. It’s not your business who they are, everyone can be valid.

If you don’t support palestine, if you don’t boycott and you don’t stand against colonialism and genocide, you are not allowed on my blog and will be blocked.

I’m incredibly left leaning, I will block you if you say racist/transphobic/misogynistic/ablest bullshit

Harry Potter fans DNI, including marauders

☆☆ Statements (but sillier) ☆☆

I love love love asks!! please send me asks

Mutuals are free to DM me whenever! I love making new friends ^-^

I use tone tags sometimes, and while i appreciate if others use them, it’s 100% good if they don’t

Drawing requests are open! I can’t promise I’ll do every request but I love suggestions :)

☆☆ My tags ☆☆

art (my art)

art trades <3 (my art trades)

my cats :) (my cats)

texts (things people text me)

pinned (posts that i saved bc i think they’re importantish)

☆☆ Links ☆☆

Resources on Palestine

Learn more about Congo, Sudan, Palestine, Haiti and Hawai’i in this master list!

Daily Click for Palestine

Americans: How to find your representative

If you do one thing today, choose to live for all the people you’ll meet one day ♡

[snapdragonsimming]

Author's Note and Transcript Under the Cut

(AN: Hello! Thank you for stopping by and checking out my fledgling fundie simblr. I’m by no means new to simblr, but because this blog and story is new, I figure an introduction is due.

So: hey, I’m Talia! I had another fundie simblr a few years back (it’s now inactive for a multitude of reasons), but like a certain someone, I have risen again! My fundie sims obsession was reignited over the summer after I joined a wonderful fundie sims-themed Discord server. Somehow they convinced me to make a new blog, and a few months later, here we are! In the intervening years I continued to lurk, so if you’re an active fundie simblr, I’m probably a fan of your story.

I’ve been playing the de la Cruz family for a while now and they have a special place in my heart- I can’t wait to share them with everyone else! Get ready for lots of God-honoring drama, mildly dubious baby names, and leopard-print modesty undershirts. Note that as the de la Cruzes are fundamentalists and this story is satire-heavy, there will be some viewpoints expressed that I very much disagree with. I’ll trigger tag certain sensitive subjects (e.g. physical violence, miscarriages) as ‘tw [thing]’ but fundie-typical bullshit will go untagged for the sake of my sanity.

Some basic housekeeping stuff to wrap up this far-too-long intro note: I have a queue full of posts ready to go, but I’m a busy student with unpleasant things like homework and AP classes, so I’m still not sure how frequently I’ll post. I’ll do my best to ensure that stays consistent, though, and if you have any questions or comments, please feel free to reach out via my askbox or DMs!)

-

PRAISING HIM!

Every Sunday, Praising Him! features a family dedicated to spreading the Word. Today we meet the de la Cruzes, a San Sequoian family of 16.

When Alejandro and Alina (née Fletcher) de la Cruz married at nineteen, they could not have imagined what would come next! Over the past twenty-six years, the couple has made faith the centerpiece of their lives, and has continued to “Praise Him!” through the ups and downs of busy family life.

Read more about their family below!

-

Alejandro, 45, works as a programmer at United Christian Publishers, and holds a Distinguished Degree in Computer Science from Foxbury Christian University. He began his journey into higher education not at 18, like many students, but at 26, shortly after the birth of his seventhborn, Cecilia! Owing to his unique circumstances, he chose to enroll in a six-year program that enabled him to work full-time as a freelance programmer in addition to his courseload. Though money was tight at times, the Lord provided, and Alejandro welcomed five bundles of joy (including a darling set of twins!) with wife Alina while enrolled at Foxbury. Whew!

Alina, 45, has chosen to fulfill God’s design for women by staying at home with her family. Raised in a devout household, she always knew He was calling her toward marriage and motherhood, and she says the “greatest blessing” in her life was the day she gave birth to her eldest son Gabriel, ten months after her wedding day and just shy of her twentieth birthday. In addition to raising and homeschooling the seven de la Cruz children who have yet to graduate, Alina is active in her church and in Institute for Strong Christian Standards (ISCS) circles, and enjoys spending time with her four (soon to be five!) beautiful grandbabies. A true Proverbs 31 woman if we’ve ever seen one!

You may recognize Gabriel de la Cruz and his lovely wife Esther, 23, from last summer’s print edition of Praising Him! At just 25, Gabriel is a rising star in the Christian legal world, coming to the aid of innocent Simericans simply trying to practice their faith. Ten months ago, they welcomed their first little girl, Abigail, and just last week they announced the upcoming arrival of their second child! Congratulations to them.

-

Althea Brown (née de la Cruz), 24, is following in her mother’s footsteps and proud of it! The young woman, who wed husband John-David, 28, three years ago, resides in Newcrest and is a content stay-at-home-mother of two.

Jasmine Booth (née de la Cruz), 23, known to friends and family as “Jazzy,” is enjoying the bliss of new parenthood alongside her husband of two years, Jason!

The first set of de la Cruz twins, Joshua and Sofia, 21, are both unattached and living at home. Sofia is pursuing a calling in missionary work, and Joshua is hard at work saving money and praying for his future family. “If you’re reading this as a young Christian woman,” Sofia jests, “have your father write into Praising Him! and I’ll set up a date with Josh!”

Caterina de la Cruz, 20, is diligently knitting, crocheting, sewing, embroidering, and cross-stitching her way through her season of singleness! Though she prays every day for her Prince Charming (nonbelievers need not apply!), she assures Praising Him! that she’s quite content to assist her mother in running the busy de la Cruz household in the interim.

Cecilia de la Cruz, 18, the only unmarried de la Cruz not living at home, declined to comment.

The rest of the de la Cruz children, who range in age from 8 to 17, are kept busy with homeschooling, ISCS conferences, music practice, and Bible study.

If you would like to get in touch with the de la Cruz family, click here to send a message!

[kadextra]

crazy how I’ve been here in the qsmp community since day one o_o wanted to write up a thing

to start, my mutuals and followers. ough wow we’ve really gone through it omg. abrazo 🫂❤️

now a bit about what I’m gonna do going forward: this has been greatly emotionally exhausting, today was hard im not gonna lie. I cried so much <3 plus life’s been busy lately. I am gonna take a step away and focus on things that need attention, some of my other interests too. I might not be here for a few days also, but rest assured!! I’ll be back and I don’t see myself leaving the qsmpblr space permanently

I’m still going to check on how everything is doing and chat with you guys about stuff, maybe post some analysis and fanarts even if i’m not as active. I will ofc see what bbh does next and tune into streams every so often when I have time, since he is a creator I enjoy and respect. I want to see what pac e mike do too, murder mystery was fantastic :D

no matter what, this community will be special to me, you’re all lovely. this server has been a unique experience with so much heart and soul put in by lots of passionate people

it succeeded in breaking down barriers of language and connected people who never would’ve met. traveling through the old spawn again also just goes to show how each little thing is a story with emotional weight we were part of. I will hold dearly the mysterious, funny, or heartbreaking stories that were told- and especially the countless late nights spent watching shenanigans of a demon and his three kids bc I needed their entertainment as my company. now recorded into this blog and my memory

so much fun the past year learning about different cultures, getting scared at The Horrors with everyone, drawing, crying, smiling at sweet heartwarming things. all the adventures and hellos / goodbyes we’ve had together with our favorite little cubitos and pixel eggs….

I think its a blessing being able to love something to the point it makes you cry when a goodbye arrives. because a piece of it settled into your heart that is important to you, no matter what it is or how long it was there for. it means something to us, we live carrying on those feelings & lessons for the rest of our life bc we are tapestries of everything we have ever loved

it really is all about love <3

[svcredveins]

As season 10 has come to a close, I thought I’d do a one time special post of what I also do! Later today I’ll be sifting through my audio files so more to come of my little lady speaking, but here she also speaks mentally for Porsche 🫀

As I’ve previously mentioned in my introduction that’s pinned on my blog, I am an editor! I’ve been editing for about 8 years now and this is definitely one of my favourite edits I have ever done. Not only just favourite, but a special one as well.

This is my livery reveal for season 10 of the GT3 Team Series in my league. I do this pretty well every season and do their promo intros for their streams as well so pre season is always the most busy part for me before it starts!

Anyway, this livery reveal is so close to my heart because it’s Porsche and listening to the narrative speaking about having a dream that makes all of us Porsche drivers united, and is race born. Porsche is super passionate about their cars and racing and their slogan is, “driven by dreams” and I, myself, is a huge dreamer and lives by passion, that meshes so well for me, and I can’t help whenever I look at their cars or even their race cars and just smile so heavily. This brand is so unique and special, I love it. They are timeless. They have heart. They have perseverance; they never stop dreaming no matter what happens. They focus so much on dreams and I just love that about them. “Dare to be driven by dreams”.

Now for the cardiophile bit! “Feeling the intense emotion behind the wheel of a 565 horsepower machine”. Like could you just imagine racing in the 12 hours of Bathurst (the opening scenes of the video) where you’re literally close to the edge being face to face with an incident that could be imminent? Walls are close with little room for error, heart pounding, breathing heavily, focus to the max, risking everything? The adrenaline! I always think about this every day just dreaming of becoming a Porsche factory driver. I love it. The feel would be so unmatched just feeling nothing but pure adrenaline in my veins - that’s where “svcredveins” comes from.

Anyway, my apologies for the ramble again haha. Thought I’d do a special post sharing what I also do, but also just leaving me with imagining all of that pure adrenaline behind a Porsche…to race for them is a dream. There’s so many reasons why I love the brand and this is one of them. Anyway, more audio files to come! Of course

Also maybe I’m able to buy my stemoscope sooner than I anticipated? Hopefully so, I’ll have to see haha, but I definitely need to just throw a heart rate counter whenever I do my sim sessions and see where my little lady is at! 🫀