#i actually cut some things out of the ending to make it flow better there was gonna be a lot more

[rauspberries]

BIRTHDAY BLUES!

summary: it's spencer's birthday and you promise to make it perfect. unfortunately, fate has other plans. pairing: spencer reid x reader. tags: afab reader, established relationship [kinda, reader n reid r not dating officially], very soft angst, a lot of comfort, reader is having a no-good-very-bad-day, spencer doesn't rly like his birthday :( word count: 1.6k notes: based off of a request from the excuse prompts <3 not as angsty as probably intended but i thought it'd be silly.

You were supposed to be there. You had promised.

Spencer didn’t even like his birthday. The most he celebrated was blowing out the birthday cake that the team got him every year, leaving the celebration behind as soon as his shift ended and he was able to go home. Every year of his life had been filled with some type of challenge, like the bullies when he went to high school at the age of twelve or the fight it had been to try and fit in at the FBI when he was still young.

But you had promised that you’d be there, at his home, to make something good of his birthday. To start his year off correctly, you had said. There had been wonder in your voice as you had spoken about bringing him some silly balloons to breathe in the helium, or how you’d bake his birthday cake yourself from scratch, leaving his mouth water in a “way he’d never be able to replicate.” 

It had actually made him excited. You were his closest friend, his confidante. Of course, your relationship had gotten a bit further than that, unofficially, but he’d always describe you as his friend first, even if every night spent as his apartment was in his bed, wrapped in his arms. It was nice to have someone that even tried to understand his mind, or let him ramble rather than cutting him off as soon as he got into the flow of it. He had taken the day off at your request, spending the day meandering around his apartment and organizing his bookshelves, as if you’d notice. As the hours ticked by, he had let himself get more amped up and excited, busying himself around the house so that everything’d be perfect for the perfect two-person party you had planned for him.

Then seven o’clock had crawled by. Followed by eight o’clock, then nine o’clock. You were now two hours and thirty-six minutes late to the time that you had set. Disappointment and irritation went back-and-forth in his head, an ever-present frown on his face as he paced in front of his couch. He had been stood up before, by girls pretending that they wanted to go on a date with him for a laugh or by so-called friends that found better things to do, however he never would have expected it from you. You seemed so excited. So genuine. He was a profiler, for God’s sake.

At ten o’clock, Spencer runs out of excuses for you and changes out of his nice sweater and pants, sliding on comfortable pajamas instead. At five at minutes past ten o’clock, he’s tucked underneath his duvet, hand curled beneath his cheek as he stares at the wall. Inside his head, he churns through what exactly someone could do in this situation. Proving his age, he decides that the silent treatment is probably best.

It’s twelve minutes past ten o’clock when there’s a knock on his door. Immediately, he knows it’s you. He’s always had some sort of sixth sense that told him when you were near. No hair raising on the back of his neck, no heart thumping harder against his rib cage, just a sense, a feeling. 

Against his better judgement, he pulls himself out of bed. Admittedly, he fakes a sleepy rub of his knuckles against his eyelid, feigning that he had been asleep. He’s always been a bit childish, never able to shake it. It’s the one thing he clings onto as someone who grew up too fast. There’s never been an innocence to him, a hope for a better day a few days later. All he had left was the stubborn need to put his foot down. 

Opening the door, the first thing he sees is the singular balloon in your hand. It floats just a few inches or so above your head, dents in it from the loss of helium over time, the HAPPY BIRTHDAY stamped across the front just slightly withered. For a moment, he allows himself to mentally say some snarky remark about how it clearly encapsulated how he felt. 

That is, until he looks at your face. The mascara that you had (no doubt) put on that morning had started to smear beneath your waterline, your lips stained with cherry-red lipstick that had long dissipated throughout the day. Your eyes were half-lidded as you stared up at him, lips pursed as if you were holding back tears. 

You don’t even give him a chance to speak before you’re rambling, voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Spencer.” Not waiting for him to invite you in, you push past him into his apartment, leaving him to watch you in slight surprise and shut the door slowly. 

Fingers shaking, you curl the ribbon of the balloon around the bottom bar of one of his barstools, tying a knot as you continue babbling. “I spent all day trying to bake your cake, but everything just kept going wrong. I found so many recipes online that had good reviews and said they were perfect for knocking people’s socks off, and I just couldn’t do it. I used the entire bag of flour I bought and all I had was multiple cakes that tasted like concrete powder.”

You’re crying now, letting out pitiful sniffles as he watches you with concerned eyes, his arms crossed over his chest as he studies – profiles – you. “And then I was going to go get you a cake, because it was already five o’clock, and you deserved a cake, even if it wasn’t handmade like I said. So I went and found the best bakery in the area, but they couldn’t make one today, and you didn’t deserve a pre-bought cake. So I called so many other bakeries until I found one.”

“I went and got the cake and it was perfect. Gorgeous piping along the edges, calligraphy in icing on the top, amazingly decorated. But then I dropped it when I was going into the balloon shop. I couldn’t even make a good cake and then I dropped the perfect one. Straight onto the icing.” 

Raising your hands, your fingers push away the tears on your cheeks before squeezing at the roots of your hair. Finally, Spencer concedes in the mental argument he was having with you, stepping forward and gently clasping his hands around your elbow, thumb brushing consoling circles against your bare skin.

It’s like you don’t even notice, sad eyes staring up at him as you continue your story through your hiccups. “So I thought, okay, I’ll go get Spence some balloons. I promised him balloons and he shall get balloons. But then they were out of helium. What party store runs out of helium?” It’s childish, whining about all of the misery that you had gone through that day, sobbing about balloons through your hiccups.

“I got you one balloon. That's all I could get. I thought, whatever. Birthdays don’t just become enjoyable because of the physical things, it’s about the people. I got in my car at six, which means I’d get here early. And then I got a flat tire. I called road assistance, but they couldn’t give me an estimated time that they’d be there. I tried to find a cab, but they all just ignored me and drove away.”

You look pitiful, hiccups interrupting your soft sniffles, tears painting your cheeks. “This wasn’t supposed to happen, I swear. I wanted to be here, with you, and give you the best birthday you could ever ask for. You deserved that. I ruined it.” The last words come out as a whimper, which perfectly matches the kicked-puppy look you’ve been sporting since he had opened his door.

Spencer lets out a soft sigh, using the grip on your elbow to pull you into his chest. Immediately, your arms are wrapping around his waist, cheek leaning against him as you sniffle and whine. One of his large hands rubs up and down your spine as he hushes you softly, leaning his own cheek atop your head after pressing a comforting kiss to your hairline. 

After you’ve finally calmed, he places his hands on your biceps, pulling away to look at you and raising his eyebrows. “Are you feeling better?”

You respond with a wrinkle of your nose, brow still furrowed. “Are you mad at me?”

“I was,” he answers honestly. “We both have phones, you know.”

A long groan leaves your lips, hands raising to cover your face. “It died, Spence! And my charger did, too! Please don’t make me talk about it anymore, I’ll cry again.” Your fingers splay so you can look up at him, a stray bang falling into your eyes.

He grins as he reaches up to brush the hair away, fingertips brushing against your forehead before he’s grabbing your hands, pulling them away. “You don’t need to worry. I forgave you the moment I saw you at my door.” A slight lie, but it’s okay. Anything to take away even a bit of your current stress.

“I wanted you to have a good birthday.” You murmur, face still contorted into a full-blown pout.

The fingers holding your wrists pull your hands to his lips, pressing soft kisses to your knuckles. “We still have about an hour and a half left.” He reminds you gently, an amused smile still playing on his mouth. “You can even spend the night and we can act like midnight never happened.”

Sighing, you lean into him, exhaustion taking over, the product of your absolutely dreadful day. “Can I borrow some sweatpants and show you some really bad reality TV? I’ll even let you talk about whatever book you’re reading now until I fall asleep. Not like those are correlated.” 

Finally, a smile sprouts on your face. Any objection that Spencer might’ve had evaporates on his tongue as he nods, placing another kiss to your hairline before giving a soft tug to your hand. “C’mon. Let's get you to bed.”

[sfstranslations]

what's your process on TLing? like how do you do it? I've always wondered what its like TLing stuff

Disclaimer that it's probably different for everyone, obviously, but for me it usually goes something like this:

(Got long, so under a cut. Minor bonus at the end for My S-Ranks fic writers!)

Get the raws (obviously, LOL).

When I start a TL session, I usually read back a little just to get the context of what's going on, because otherwise you risk getting some of the contextual information wrong.

Time for the actual translating! Read the sentence.

Break it down as best as I can—pick out grammar structure (is XYZ the subject or object etc.), pick out what words I know, cobble together a partial sentence from that. Ends up something like, "Character A {??ed} loudly and lifted their {right? left?} hand."

Look up the words I don't know in the KR-EN dictionary (usually Naver, but also Wiktionary as a backup, both English and Korean) and fill in the blanks. My Korean vocabulary is minuscule so I have to do this for at least one word almost every sentence… I also like to double-check the meanings of some words I'm not fully sure of (see right/left dilemma above 😅), or to see if there's other verified translations that would fit the sentence better if the one I think of doesn't flow well.

Addendum to the above point: If there's a word that doesn't really fit the scene or means some random off-the-wall thing, go on a research spree to figure out why it's showing up here. If this takes longer than 5 minutes, put a pin in it to come back to later and move on; otherwise I risk getting distracted or burning all my energy on research instead of translation, and sometimes the next few lines help me figure out what was being said anyway. Generally I mark these with the {???} from the example above, with a note on what confused me about the bit in question. (These are usually the things that require footnotes!)

If I completed the sentence, read over it to check that it actually makes sense. Sometimes it doesn't and I have to go back over grammar to redo it. Subject/object/topic markers my beloathed

Then once the meaning of the sentence is worked out, check that it flows with the rest of the scene. (If it doesn't, 70% chance it's a quote or reference to something, in which case, again, research or put a pin in it for later.)

Rinse and repeat until the end of the chapter.

First pass complete! 🎉

Go back and do all that research I saved for later :( (Chiyul is niceys to me and only uses odd or flowery wording that I can work out given enough time, but Geunseo is so mean about this. Stop referencing poets from the Tang dynasty who don't have easily accessible online translations for their works. What the hell) (Sometimes they'll reference something obscure and then make an oblique reference to THAT reference instead of the source material because they loooove having characters use injokes which I do love. But it is also majorly harshing my groove. Please have mercy)

Read over the chapter again, Korean then English, paragraph by paragraph, to make sure the translations actually line up and I didn't mess anything up during the first pass. Also for English editing purposes—grammar, punctuation etc. So combination quality-checking and editing.

Pass the baton to other team members for a second round of combination QC/edits; sometimes gets skipped, it depends

Clean the chapter (i.e. deleting all the Korean and running some final checks via regexes for miscapitalizations and the like)

Pick a good excerpt, tag all featured characters, and post! Aaand back to the grind for the next chapter. (…Bit of a simplification. What I actually do is just keep translating until I run out of energy/thinking power for the day. Chapters get cleaned and prepped for posting in batches of 10 only when the last batch have all been posted; e.g. we're on 390-something for S-Ranks right now, so when I'm about to post chapter 400, I'll edit and clean 401–410, and so on.)

Some more notes I wasn't sure where to fit in, below.

Besides quotes/references to external media and language/culture quirks, I also sometimes add footnotes when characters quote other characters from chapters that were posted quite a while ago. This is in part because it's probably helpful to readers but largely because it's helpful to me specifically (I have a terrible memory 😔) (if I don't do it then when I'm rereading the chapter for editing/cleaning I always end up going "they literally didn't say that though…? Is that a mistranslation?" and then it turns out they did say that but it was more than a chapter ago so I forgot. Sighs.)

Disclaimer that I don't translate from MTL anymore!! Quality is worse than translating by hand!! But sometimes if a chapter is really confusing then I'll slap the whole thing into Google Translate so I have an English version I can skim for the context. It's helpful because Google Translate gives extremely bad TLs in terms of English readability so I don't adopt its phrasing into my own TL, but it also gets juuuust enough right that I can identify what the gist of events is. Like if a chapter cold opens on a fight scene and only five paragraphs later clarifies the location of said fight, then the rough MTL lets me know whether I should be translating something as a wall (indoor fight) or barrier (dungeon fight), for example. Also helpful for pronouns, since Korean doesn't use those the way English does; if the character isn't named right off the bat, I don't want to be writing every sentence like "[PRONOUN] looked at [PRONOUN]self in the mirror, noting the dark circles under [PRONOUN] eyes", then have to go back to fill in the blanks 5 minutes later, you know?

I also make style guides for every story I'm translating, which I refer back to while working so I can keep the translations consistent. Whenever we're in a new setting or something gets brought up for the first time, I add it to the style guide for future reference. There's a lot of stuff in the guides that's probably only mentioned a few times, but at least I don't have to translate from scratch each of those few times!

The general style guide has stuff like number/unit formats, honorifics, and notes on spellings I mix up often (I try to use American English for consistency, although personally I prefer a combination of American/Commonwealth spellings (USA you are just wrong about worshiped, it's worshipped!! Do you say shiped?? Huh????)).

The story-specific style guides let me keep track of special names—places, characters, and more—but also things like system message formats. For My S-Ranks, I also have separate sections for the regions with lots of unique terminology (the VR dungeon and China so far, more to come).

Below are some examples from the general style guide and the S-Ranks-specific one.

Oh, one part of the style guide might also be helpful to any S-Ranks fic writers out there—here's the special characters I've been using for system admin messages such as "η๐┰ ሃ๐∪ዩ բმ∪┗┰" from chapter 53. (No replacements for B, J, K, M, Q, V, X, and Z because those haven't been needed so far. Added those in anyway for future-proofing!)

A: მ

B: ß

C: င

D: Ð

E: ∈

F: բ

G: ₲

H: ዞ

I: 𝔦

J: ຽ

K: ƙ

L: ┗

M: ៣

N: η

O: ๐

P: የ

Q: ዊ

R: ዩ

S: ડ

T: ┰

U: ∪

W: ￦

X: ㄨ

Y: ሃ

Z: ☡

Anyway! Hope that sheds some light on the translation process, at least the way I do it. Let me know if you have any more questions or requests! This was fun.

[and-claudia]

Little Sundress (Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader) SMUT!! DAY 1 of KINKTOBER

Set during First Class

Warnings: sundress kink, oral (f receiving), I think that is it, let me know if I missed one though!!

Wordcount: 1500+

Being in Charle’s childhood home was interesting, to say the least. He and I had very different upbringings, and seeing how massive this place truly was only seemed to prove that more. 

“And here is the kitchen.” He said, “I know it’s not anything crazy b-”

“I love it.” I said, cutting him off. 

He turned to me and smiled. 

“It’s charming. And honestly, anything is better than our tiny one back in Oxford.” I said with a laugh. 

“Well, I am glad you like it. And you do know, you don’t have to cook for all of us.” He said, stepping closer and placing his hands on my hips. 

“I know, but I want to. Plus, it will make me feel more helpful… my mutation isn’t the most useful in a fight.” I said, looking down. 

“That won’t be the case much longer, dear. That’s why we’re here to train and grow our abilities. I believe you’ll be able to copy any mutation of anyone at any time without touching them by the time we’re done.” He said, using his thumb and pointer finger to grab my chin and tilt it up to look at him. 

I smiled at him, “I hope so.” 

I didn’t actually say it to him out loud. Since he was touching my face, I was able to say it to him telepathically. 

Charles finished showing me around and ended in the room we’d be staying in. I took some time to unpack while he went off to do his own thing. Once all my clothes were unpacked I decided to take the chance to shower before I went down stairs to make dinner. We had been traveling all day so I felt a little gross and I knew a shower would feel amazing, especially since I would be getting the hot water before everyone else. 

When I got out, I decided to throw on one of my sun dresses. It was always so rainy in Oxford I hardly ever got a chance to wear them, so I intended to take full advantage of that. I threw on some simple kitten heels so that I wasn’t walking across the mansion barefoot. Then, I made a few adjustments to my outfit before heading out. 

On my way to the kitchen I passed a few Raven. 

“Why are you all dressed up? Are you and Charles going out or something?” She asked, slightly confused. 

“No, not tonight. I am actually just on my way to make everyone dinner. I just never really got to where these dresses often, so I figured I’d take advantage.” I said. 

“Make sure you make it to the kitchen before Charles sees you. He won’t be able to keep his hands to himself once he sees you, and I’d like to make sure we get fed tonight.” She teased, and I just laughed and rolled my eyes before continuing to the kitchen. 

Once I got there I set about getting everything I would need for dinner ready. I was just beginning to chop the vegetables when Erik, Charles and Hank all walked in. 

“Hello, boys,” I said, spinning around to greet them, causing the dress to flow out. 

Erik and Hank both said their own hellos, but Charles was too busy staring… I was starting to think Raven may have been right. 

“Dinner will be ready in probably half an hour.” I informed them. 

“Do you want some help?” Hank offered. 

I was about to tell him that he could help finish chopping while I got the chicken in the oven, but Charles cut me off before I could. 

“I got it, I can help her… you two go ahead and… yeah.” He said, clearly already a little flustered as he walked over to help me. Luckily, the other two men got the hint and left us alone in the kitchen. 

“Well, that was smooth, Charlie…” I teased. 

“What?”

“I got it, I can help her… you two go ahead and… yeah.” I mocked his voice as I repeated what he had just said. 

“Well, can you blame me?” He asked, turning to look me over, not even the slightest bit ashamed of the way his hungry eyes racked over my body. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said, stepping past him to grab something from the fridge, but he caught my arm. 

“Oh, but you do. It doesn’t take a telepath to know that… but it is useful being one because now I know that you have nothing on under there.” He said, reaching for the hem of my dress but I smacked his hand away. 

“I gotta cook dinner.” I said, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek but he turned his head and I kissed his lips instead which he immediately took advantage of that. His hands gripped my hips as he pulled me against him. 

“Mm, I’d rather start with dessert.” He said against my lips as he grinded his hips against me. 

“Charles, we can’t. Not here.” I said. 

“Who said? It’s my house, I should be able to fuck my girlfriend wherever I please…” In one swift motion, he turned us around so that my back was now to the table that sat in the middle of the room, “And right now, it would please me to fuck her right here.” 

Without our lips separating, he lifted me up onto the table as we continued to make out. His hands slid down to my knees, and he pulled them apart so he could stand between them. 

“What if someone walks in?” I asked, glancing over to the door. 

“Don’t worry about that, darling.” He said, subtly inching my dress up higher and higher. 

He finally broke away from the kiss and gave me a look before dropping down to kneel on one knee between my legs. 

“You should wear these more often, love.” He said as he began planting kisses along the inside of my thigh. 

He left a trail of kisses and a few love bites all the way up my inner thigh. Then, when he reached where I wanted his lips the most, he hesitated. I felt the cool air of him sighing so close, sending a chill up my spine. I was mentally preparing myself to feel his tongue delving into my cunt. So, when I felt his lips press to my other thigh and begin working their way back down it, I accidentally let a small whimper slip through my lips. 

“So impatient.” He mumbled, and I could feel his smirking against my skin. 

“No, you’re just a fucking tease.” I sighed. 

“Oh really? Maybe I should just let you get back to cooking then.” He said, going to stand up. 

I reached forward and caught his shoulder, pushing him back down, “Don’t you dare. You’re going to eat me out.” I said to him telepathically. 

“As you wish.” 

He dropped back down and went straight the my cunt. No time was wasted as he began fucking me with his mouth. His tongue was working wonders. I was trying so hard not to let anyone hear me. 

Suddenly, he pulled away and looked up at me. His lips were shining with a mix of my wetness and his own spit. 

“No, let them hear you, darling.” He said. His eyes were the darkest I had ever seen them. 

He didn’t even wait for me to respond before going back to lapping at my cunt. His nose was now also rubbing up against my clit, sending me soaring towards ecstasy. 

“Fuck, Charles, keep going.” I said, running my hands through his hair, pulling it lightly, which earned a grunt from him that I felt vibrate up through my cunt. 

I could feel that oh so familiar and welcom feeling of the coil tightening, knowing it would snap soon from the tension. Charles must have felt that I was getting close too because he began to speed up. 

“You taste so good, love.” He said to me telepathically, “Wish I could eat you out every day.” 

“Charles…” I moaned out loud, not caring that I could hear my moans echoing off the walls. 

“Go ahead, darling, come all over my tongue.” 

“Fuck!” I moaned as I came. 

Charles refused to let a single drop of my release go to waste as he lapped up every bit of it. Once he was done, he pulled back, chin wet with a mix of my release and his own spit. As he stood, he grabbed the rag from off the table and used it to wipe his chin, and only his chin, before he leaned over to kiss me, allowing me to taste myself on his lips. The kiss was so soft and gentle that I never wanted it to end. That was until I smelt something burning. 

I reluctantly pulled away and glanced around him. 

“Fuck, the chicken burned.” I said. 

Charles turned around and just turned the oven off. 

“Oh well, that gives me more time to fuck you… where shall we take it next? My new office, perhaps?” He asked. 

The thought did excite me, but what was everyone supposed to do for dinner now? 

“Change of plans. Go into town for dinner tonight.” Charles said to everyone in the house using his mind. 

“Problem solved.” He said before leaning in to give me another kiss, “So… my office?” He asked, raising his eyebrow at me. 

Kinktober taglist:

@comicbookslut

[neunhofferart]

For those of you who've finished Jurassic World Chaos Theory Season 3 already... not posting boards or memes with spoilers yet, but here's my season 3 playlist:

Again, this is a selection of songs I either listened to while boarding or thinking about the show. Full song list organized by episode and some commentary under the cut (contains out of context light spoilers):

Excess Baggage:

I wanted to start the playlist off with something a little more lighthearted and silly. On a surface level, the song 'If You Wanna Go' always makes me think of Brooklynn leaving everyone on the tarmac and everyone kind of having to pick themselves up again after the shock.

But there's also a line that always makes me laugh ('You and Jeffrey can start a new') because one of our storyboard artists name's is Jeffrey, and he once made up this INSANE AU pitch for the tarmac scene where Brooklynn shoots Ben with a gun to prove her loyalty to Santos (it would have been planned by her and Ben and he would have been fine but still LOL)

Gone, Gone, Gone - 'Your morals ebb, your morals flow... The normal rules do not apply'

Villa Paradiso:

I read somewhere that there was a meta behind the original Italian version of the song 'Gloria' that the singer was singing about a woman he was in love with that wasn't real, so... (for the life of me I can't find the article again and I'm not sure if that is actually true. The Italian lyrics are definitely about a man obsessed with and missing 'Gloria' though haha).

This Must Be the Place - cozy song for the momentarily cozy setting. Also you know who born. Also 'the less we say about it the better... It's okay, I know nothing's wrong'

The Queen's Court:

I included several tracks from Luca that always put me in the 'little dinosaur in big Italy' headspace.

Are You Satisfied - Brooklynn of course. 'Once you cross the line, will you be satisfied?'

Fire in the Piazza:

More Luca, but also some Italian Giallo horror tracks for the pyroraptor and the handler

Boiling Over:

I've Been Losing You and Mismo Amor are... self explanatory

Undercover:

There's something really bittersweet about this Luca track that makes me think of the N5 parting ways on their separate missions.

Across That Fine Line - finally seeing Brooklynn again

Decisions, Decisions…:

Medusa could actually go in a couple different places this season, but I think this was also on @tio-trile's Brooklynn playlist since season 1

No Escape:

Phenomena (Video Version) - more Itialian Giallo horror that cooks for the pyroraptor and the handler.

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land has always made me think about dinosaurs being brought back and let loose in general, especially when things start coming to a head in the season 3 finale

Active Pursuit:

Under the Wheels - everything REALLY coming to a head

Morituri Te Salutant:

The World is Not Enough - Santos to Brooklynn in the finale

Bonus:

What Are the Chances? always felt like a song that would play over the end credits of Chaos Theory Season 3 if it was a movie. The characters have come so far since Camp Cretaceous- it was chance that originally brought them together, but it's always been a choice to stay together.

"Playing with your life, or is it destiny/ which sets you on a path? Is it out of choice that you're here next to me/ or just the aftermath/ of moments as they pass?"

Anyway, hope the season made you feel things! My full Chaos Theory Playlist for all 3 Seasons is now updated too:

[weirdagnes]

Mouthwashing: The Musical

cant get it out of my head so dumping some ideas in a non-arranged way:

SONG NUMBERS

The songs ABSOLUTELY has to derive leitmotifs from the original soundtrack. It has to be 80s inspired dark synth-heavy with a little industrial/experimental touch. Maybe some of the songs are titled after the actual track titles (“Heroes”, “Here, On Earth”, “Bad News” - very theatrical titles).

Every character gets a soliloquy (ofc)

I can see Swansea having 3 leading songs. One will probably have the motif of “Close your eyes” (character introduction song), two is the reprise (Daisuke death scene), three is the speech he gives to Jimmy.

Anya’s solo comes in the “Dead Pixel” scene, but maybeee it can be a duet with Curly;

Daisuke will have the silly song and dance number that becomes sad mid song when he talks about his insecurities as intern (but it still ends with a bang).

Jimmy and Curly will absolutely HAVE to duet in the “I want to go home” We ARE home” scene.

I can envision a lengthy number heavy on spoken featuring Anya, Curly, and Jimmy during the scene where Anya reveals her pregnancy and the talk before the crash.

Curly could have a solo song with post-crash actor on upstage while in his headspace, his pre-crash actor sings on downstage.

There has to be a painful Anya, Jimmy, Swansea and Daisuke number on the scene when Anya locked herself in the medbay except this time! we get to hear Anya sing her side of the story (maybe Curly’s precrash actor is standing at the side too while Anya sings her last moments but he’s unseen by her, ya know like implied “audience sees, characters dont” thing)

LIGHTING/SCENES

Lighting has to be the peak highlight of the play, like in the game! Instead of black curtain bg, there’s a projector and screen as background that’ll display the day/night/sunset screentime.

Floor lighting is going to be used a LOT for dramatic scenes, like in Curly’s blood sea hallucination, floor lighting could be red as like, reflection of the blood sea.

Light direction goes INSANEE during crash reveal, imitation of emergency lights.

Can you IMAGINE Swansea’s speech scene on stage with projector and screen??? I cant explain because i never studied stage lighting but OUGH PLS IMAGINE HOW COOL AND DOABLE IT IS -

SET DESIGN

This is kinda hard because with set design, you have to be creative limiting stage props while keeping imagery of the set so changing set isn’t troublesome. There’s 6 sets: lounge, medical bay, cockpit, utility, cargo, and hallucination areas. But we can cut it down to:

SET 1 - LOUNGE + MEDICAL BAY. Both have screentime so they can be the same set, maybe Medical on stage right and Lounge on stage left. I think this format will make the “Anya locks herself” scene flow better. Anya is singing her final thoughts stage right, spotlight focus on her as she slowly moves downstage while the crew changes the set to Utility so after Anya takes the pills, the transition to Jimmy and Daisuke entering the Utility is quick.

SET 2 - UTILITY + COCKPIT. The set is pretty unique because of the cryopod and the vent, but it can share set with the cockpit since they have the common design of pipes and screens. The difference between the set are objects that can be easily taken away or added during set change, which is the pilots’ chairs in the (Cockpit) and the cryopod (Utility).

SET 3 - CARGO + HALLUCINATION AREAS. These set are mostly dark in lighting and not much prop other than boxes or shelves (with wheels underneath for easy pushing) of mouthwash and TVs. Scarce lighting and mostly empty stage allows free space for imagination which is perfect for hallucination scenes. The cargo area doesn’t have much design variety anyway.

[ilium-ilia]

i need ajcs polycule like i need AIR beloved mother ilia do you want to deprive me of AIR????

since i am an all kind and loving mother, I will allow you to look at this old version of Slow Cook that I wrote ages ago when the idea first popped up into my head.

Slow Cook (First Draft)

content: alternate universe to in limbo, aelin x john x chip x simon polycule, but all i have written so far is really just a sapphic blurb for aelin x chip, this is written in third person because that's what got my brain worms wiggling, so Chip is treated more like an oc than a reader character, abrupt ending because this is just a little blurb, may or may not make it into the actual slow cook cut, we'll see, but i gotta give my children air

It starts like all things do—with an ache. 

For now, it’s dull. Nothing but a quiet throb that rustles in the pit of Aelin’s stomach as her fingers rap against the wooden table she leans against. Familiar faces occupy the seats around the table as shimmering eyes read through the menus held up by manicured fingers. Their features have changed over the years since their time spent in university together. Accomplished women—powerful women—yet, Aelin finds herself bored. 

Sighing, she eyes the beef tagliata. It’s expertly described in a way that makes her mouth water. Balsamic vinegar, rosemary, arugula—Aelin enjoys red meat. Savors the flowing juices. 

But Aelin prefers her meat fresh, and right now there’s nothing better than the waitress scurrying up to the table, pen in hand. 

Though, she doesn’t look much like a waitress. Her uniform is different from the other’s Aelin has eyed throughout the night. Pure black clothes, and no apron, she nearly looks the part. Yet with disheveled hair and sweat lining her brow, the girl seems out of her depth. Still, she musters up a polite smile, though it’s easy to make out the bobbing of her throat as she swallows. 

“Good evening ladies. My name’s Chip, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Uh… can I start you off with something to drink?”

One by one, the ladies prattle off their orders all while Aelin watches their waitress; Chip. Her brows pinch in concentration as she scribbles down each order thrown her way. Rolling lips. Polite nods. Cute thing, this waitress. Even the slight tremor in her fingers is endearing; borderline adorable. 

“And for you miss?”

Chip’s eyes land on Aelin for only a split second before they flicker away, pretending to be occupied with her notepad. Fingers still tapping the table, Aelin has been looking at her for quite some time. Learning. Analyzing. Smiling, Aelin tilts her head just as she wets her lips. Her tongue lingers between her teeth for a beat too long. 

“Chip. What a unique name,” Aelin comments. 

She’s hoping it gets a laugh out of the girl, and it nearly does. Chip exhales sharply before mustering the courage to make eye contact again. “Well it’s… it’s just a nickname, really.” 

Nodding languidly, Aelin hums. “I see.” 

Her fingers cease their tapping. 

“Well, Chip, I’ll have a glass of wine. Red. Amarone, if you have it. If not, I’ll trust your judgment on a replacement.” 

Just as she did with the others, Chip notes Aelins’s words. “Perfect. I’ll, uhm, have that out for you shortly.” 

As she turns around to leave, Aelin eyes the sweet waitress. She devours the sway of her hips with wide pupils, enamored by the way the fabric hugs her rump and the swell of her thighs. Oh, how she enjoys fresh meat. 

That quiet throb lurking in Row’s stomach slowly ripens into a dull purr. A pathetic kitten with a pitiful cry settles into her core like it’s a safe haven. She fantasizes about the ways she likes to enjoy her meals. Warm. Quivering. Pinned. Splayed. Even now she can see it. Taste it. Legs spread wide, shaky fingers covering parted lips. Sizzling gasps escaping from a throat that feels too tight, all while her mouth drips, and drips, and drips. 

Aelin focuses her attention back to the present the moment a generous glass of wine is placed in front of her. Red like blood but not nearly as thick, she swirls it. Lets the aromatics waft around her nose, yet it’s not enough to drown the daydreams. It’s not enough to rip her eyes away from the undone buttons on the top of her waitress’s blouse, or the beads of sweat that peek between the cloth. 

“And for you?”

Once again, Aelin has been staring at Chip for quite awhile, and it flusters the poor girl all the same. Averting eyes, an anxious huff; quite a skittish thing. Some alleyway cat with curious but improper manners. 

“The beef tagliata, please love.” 

Nodding, Chip writes down Aelin’s order where she then taps the tip of her pen against the paper. One by one—little dots against scribbled words. She’s checking the order. Recounting it. Making sure she has it correct. 

“Are you new here, Chip?” Aelin asks. 

This question perplexes not only the waitress, but Aelin’s friends as well. A stillness falls over the table while other patrons buzz and chatter around them. Glasses clink, cutlery scrapes, and still the most interesting thing in the room to Aelin is the anxious woman in front of her. 

“Yes. Well, erm, no. I’m actually a hostess but they needed extra help tonight so I’m doing my best. This is my first time waitressing,” Chip explains. 

“How sweet of you.” Aelin pauses. Using the tip of her middle finger, she traces the rim of her glass. Slowly. Fingers flexing and relaxing. “I’ll have my steak medium rare, sweetheart.” 

Blinking, Chip glances back and forth between Aelin and her notepad before an anxious chuckle expels from her mouth. “Right. Yes, of course. Medium rare. I’ll have these out for you soon.” 

And to think Aelin nearly skipped out on girls night.

[the-massive-simp]

Hey I love your writing! I was wondering if you could do a Diluc as a professor (slight nswf if your comfortable 🫢)

OHHHH I LOVE THISSSS HERE U GO BBY<3 I'm sorry this came out like 10 times more nsfw than i intended hehe I did some headcanons + little scenario since its quicker an easier to write for me :)) if u want a full fic feel free to send another ask!!

warnings: mdni, nsfw under the cut (he's a bit of a pervert, semi public sex, unprotected sex [use protections irl!!], fingering, edging, minor age gap, sub afab reader [no pronouns mentioned, but reader wears a skirt], tiniest bit of degration, praising, uhh i think that's everything)

♡Professor!Diluc♡

PLS THIS PROMPT WITH DILUC IM ON MY KNEES FOR HIM

let's get started

so

let's say that you had some troubles with the subject(s) he teaches

he noticed you struggling and asked you after class if you wanted him to give you some private lessons, since he didnt want his favourite little student to fail his class

and how can you deny the opportunity to spend more time with your hot professor? you've had a crush on him for ages!

and don't think he didn't notice

he saw how your cheeks would turn red everytime he spoke or looked at you, how your hands would shake when he gave you back your work or how you would always look for him in the alleys

and he looked at you too, when you bended over to pick up something, unknowingly giving him the opportunity to look at your panties covering your plump ass and your sweet pussy

he'd also notice how pretty you would look in your uniform, shirt squeezing your chest and skirt flowing around your thighs

but he promised himself that this encounters will be strictly professional

just a teacher helping a student in need

but when you arrived to the library for the first lesson he feels like he could catch fire right there and then

your skirt was even shorter than the uniform's one and your stockings hugged your thighs so sweetly

he coughed a bit to hide his amusement, and the he started explaining

he struggled to keep his composure when you bended over the table to point at a specific passage of the book you didn't get

your shirt was slightly unbuttoned and he managed to get a peek of your lacy pink bra

he quickly moved his eyes back to the book, hoping you wouldn't notice his red cheeks

after a couple of this lessons, he was about to give up

he didn't manage to get one thing into your head

he decided that maybe he could try one last method

♡

That's how you ended up on his lap, your back pressed against his toned chest, his muscular arms wrapped against your waist. "Now open the book and start reading chapter 6." As he talked, he pressed you down against his lap, your clothed pussy rubbing against his cock. You bit your lower lip and reached for the book, starting to read aloud. You stuttered the first words, but as you kept reading, your voice got more stable. You were so absorbed by the book you didn't notice his hands moving, until one grabbed your nipple, and the other slipped under your skirt to play with your clothed clit. "You didnt even wear a bra today? What a naughty girl. You better commit yourself to actually learn something and make up for it." "Yes sir- ah!" As you answered, he pinched your clit, making your hips jolt. "Don't make such lewd noises here. We're in a private section of the library, but people can still hear your pretty little voice moaning. The only thing I want to hear is you reading. Go on." You blushed and started reading again. As you kept doing so, his hand slid under your panties and started to circle your clit, doing so for all the time it took you to finish the chapter. "Good girl, I think thats enough for today. Put down the book and enjoy your reward." With that, he inserted a finger in your leaking hole, curling it to hit all the best spots. "Keep quiet. Let's see how many times you can cum for your professor, huh?

after that time, your grades actually got better, so he kept using this special method to help you

he would give you one suck on your clit for every answer you got right when eating you out, and one smack on your ass for every wrong one

the first time you got an A, he decided that you deserved a big reward and he fucked you until you were unable to form coherent sentences

but he also got jealous

when he caught guys eyeing you, he would come to you and ask you if you could follow him to talk about your grades, quickly leading you to the closest bathroom or closet to pump you full of his cum

"Why don't you go and tell them who is the only one who can make you feel good?"

"Imagine what they would say I they found you doing such things with your professor, you pretty little slut"

"Can't even wait for our lesson to have my cock stuffing you, huh?"

after cumming, he would pull up your panties and make you go around with his cum inside all the day

if you ask him nicely, he can give you some more after lessons are finished

after all, who is he to deny a request from his pretty little student?

[multidimensionalguidance]

What do you need to know? Pick-A-Pile✨

Left to right; orange flower (1), pink flower (2), and blue flower (3).

Pile #1

ten of swords, the sun, the knight of swords, and the three of swords

There was or currently is a difficult situation that you are overcoming. It has been draining, and exhausting to the point where all you have energy for is laying down in bed. There was some sort of betrayal that occurred, wether from someone else or yourself. You are now in a state of surrendering and feeling the ending of the situation. But guess what? Acceptance is exactly what will bring you joy and success. Understand that what happened was meant to happen, let the feelings flow out, and allow space for light and hope. Once you do, you will feel mentally ready and clear to dive directly towards what caused the pain, and properly heal it. You are now standing up for yourself. No more tears left to cry. You are now seeing things from such a logical way, that there’s no confusion to what led you towards feeling defeated to begin with. Seeing things for what they are can be painful, but choosing to head straight to it with no fear of losing something is exactly what you need right now. You will feel better and might become overprotective of your heart, but you know what? That’s totally fine. Your heart is your biggest treasure, and not everyone or every situation deserves to receive the type of love that only you can provide.

Pile #2

king of swords, the sun, ace of pentacles, and two of pentacles

You are on a very powerful analytical mindset right now. Your mind is clear and sharp. There could be a masculine energy in your life with Air (Gemini, Libra, and Aquarius) or Leo placements that fits this description as well. There’s a lot of joy and success that is either coming your way or already with you at the moment. This could either be from a new job, promotion, venture, or extra money that allows you to not only plant a seed for future financial benefits, but also allow you to balance out your finances in general. If you find yourself needing to cut down some expenses, it won’t budge or bother you. Actually, you’ll see it as good and necessary, hence why you’ll be able to balance things out better. Overall very positive energy radiating from you, the masculine energy that’s approaching, or the situation that’s heading your way.

If the masculine energy is not a romantic partner, they could very well be someone who could come offer you a work opportunity. Someone very intellectual, fair, and whose words carry a lot of authority.

Pile #3

three of wands, ten of pentacles, page of cups, page of pentacles

You are either looking forward to expanding your horizons towards finances or wanting to cross borders, meaning, travel (particularly where your family or ancestors come from). Nonetheless, there is an expansion that will be felt in your life when it comes to long term financial success, family, and relationships. There is a potential suitor for you, perhaps someone that has a crush on you, and wants to make it known by taking a step forward. They could be a wealthy foreigner that you meet while traveling, that doesn’t take things too fast, and is quite dreamy when it comes to love. They will make careful, steady, yet romantic steps towards you. If its not a partner, then it’s definitely some sort of venture that you will take on that will give you financial abundance, and allow you to confidently manifest or master abilities to ensure your future is held on a strong foundation.

Thank you for reading! I truly hope these messages are able to resonate and reach exactly those that need divine clarity. If not, do not worry, it will come your way regardless.

[jailforwriter]

Let's get into...

Look, at the end of the day, writing is word choice. You're choosing which words to put in what order to make other people feel Some Type Of Way about the result. But there are 4 bits of advice perennially swirling about the bowels of writing forums that, misapplied, might make you shit the metaphorical bed of optimal communication, and I very much don't want that for you. I'm staunchly pro-avoiding the literary runs, in fact. So let's get into how.

On the chopping block today is my nemesis:

"Cut all adverbs"

I'm not going to pretend that I don't know why this advice exists. All two reasons it exists, even. Let's break them down:

Too many adverbs: we're all guilty of inundating sentences with adverbs. There are many moving components to scenes, and there's often a desire to express every last one of them. It's not enough to say that the ball rolled down the empty street; the reader simply must know that the ball crept exceedingly slowly, cautiously inching downwardly and toward the eerily empty street. But see, that's clunky. It doesn't flow well, doesn't add anything that couldn't have been expressed more concisely through better wording, and, most importantly, it insults the reader's imagination. By overexplaining, you're taking away their (admittedly limited, but crucial!) agency to picture things themselves. Womp womp.

Redundant adverbs: pretentious people have invented far too many words over the years for anyone to be out here saying "ran quickly". Running is inherently quick, my guy. Otherwise, we'd be saying walking or jogging or promenading (yes, really). This is the moment to break out the thesaurus and realize that sprinted, raced, and dashed all say what you wanted them to say and bring an evocative, nuanced vibe to the sentence. And nuance is tasty. Nuance is the sauce that the quirked up white boy (the sentence) was goated with. So we're better off just saying "ran" and saving that adverb for when it's actually trying to communicate complexities, which we'll expound on once we get into why adverbs are hot, actually.

NOTE: this crops up particularly often in dialogue. "Said angrily" is a dialogue tag that may seem inoffensive — until you remember that snapped exists, and furthermore, so does slamming the door in their face.

So then when/where in the annoyingly nondescript hell should I use adverbs?

Fundamentally, when they add meaning to stuff. To elaborate:

Substance: a sad smile is different from a regular smile, and should be described as such. If you just say "they smiled", people will assume it's a "normal" (i.e. happy) smile and call it day. If someone almost smiles, it's also telling us something different than if we'd said that they didn't smile at all; now we can't tell that they found the joke funny but chose not to smile, and the interaction loses substance. (Moreover, waiting and waiting patiently aren't the same thing, as I'm sure your mom pointed out when she still told you off because you "gave her attitude" by breathing too hard while you waited for her to press play on the VCR.)

Pacing: someone shaking their head slowly is different from them shaking their head at regular, normal human speeds. The latter is simple negation, whereas the former has an element of emotional nuance, of why the hell did they do that that way? Was it anger or regret? Denial, maybe? No idea! But now the reader gets to ponder about it, and that's where interest is born, methinks.

Tone: there aren't too many ways to interpret someone saying "I hate you". It's a pretty straightforward phrase, for the most part, deployed with devastating expertise by schoolchildren whose parents won't give into capitalistic fads and buy them a Stanley cup. But if I were to say "I hate you" softly, then ah. Things change. We have contrasting emotions now. Depth. Is it really an "I love you" in disguise? Am I just mad that you're making me order at the counter when you know I get, like, weird when I have to ask them for no pickles? Perchance. The takeaway here is that the adverb made it so that you can't take the sentence at face-value, and that, unlike pickles, is very satisfying.

The other 3 horsemen of the misconstrued writing advice apocalypse (word choice edition) will be coming soon, so please keep an eye out for seals breaking on ominous scrolls. Happy writing!

[luminouslywriting]

Love love love your band of brothers headcanons.

i have a request if that's okay! can you do band of brothers boys with girlfriend who has curly hair? please x

like I said love your posts!

Nonny, this is so cute!! And as a girl with wavy/curly hair, I feel this one! I actually have another ask about the curly hair, so consider it done with this haha! Reminder that my requests are open for both MOTA and BoB, so keep sending them in!

Cut for length, more under the cut, some light spice sprinkled in haha:

Dick Winters:

-This man is a redhead okay?? So he gets the struggle of hair and he finds your hair to be absolutely beautiful

-He's never going to just, like, touch it—but man, he thinks about running his hands through your hair all of the time lol—and yes, he feels guilty over it

-Is the first to notice if you've done something with your hair and always compliments you on it (but at the end of a conversation because he's a soft man not trying to draw attention to things)

-Pays attention when you're talking hair care and absolutely would buy you hair care products

-When you finally get together, he treasures the small moments—especially when it's post-sex and he's just holding you and gets to have his hands in your hair

Lewis Nixon:

-Definitely calls you "curls"....it's just a nickname thing that he uses to draw away from the fact that he really really really likes your hair

-He's the type of man who can carry a whole conversation while concentrated and brushing through your hair in the way that you prefer

-Buys expensive hair care products for you just because he can

-Would definitely be into trying hair masks with you

-Loves getting to tuck his forehead against yours in the heat of the moment—and if a few of your curls fall over and tickle him? Even better.

Ronald Speirs:

-He's not indifferent to your hair....but he's not about to go out of his way to point out that he likes it either

-Speirs strikes me as the type of man who would be pleasantly surprised the first time he actually sees your natural curls, but he's not about to say anything about it

-The only indicator that he likes your hair is the fact that he likes to braid your hair after showers, especially showers that the two of you share

-Loves early mornings where he can just mess around with your hair while you're still sleeping; it's a soft and tender moment for sure

-Encourages you to have your hair down and natural more often

Buck Compton:

-HYPE KING—listen, he just likes hair and is proud of your hair for you

-He knows just as much about hair care, if not more, than you do

-Would carry around a hair tie in the event that you need to pull your hair up

-Always compliments the curls and knows how to help in heat or cold

-Compares you to Venus and Aphrodite with flowing curls of hair during sex, I don't make the rules

Carwood Lipton:

-Thinks your curls are adorable and will proceed to tell you in a soft manner when you're on a date

-Usually finds himself staring at you and is easily able to pick you out of a crowd by just seeing your hair

-Specifically asks you too teach him how to do your hair because if you have daughters, he wants to be able to help them with their hair (TENDER MY HEART)

-Is the best at detangling snarls and so devoted to helping with the tangles in your hair

-Always takes the time to tell you how pretty you are

Joseph Liebgott:

-Proudly brags about how beautiful you are and how soft your hair is and how good it smells

-Intentionally buys all sorts of scented shampoos and conditioners for you

-Likes washing your hair for you, especially after sex haha

-CUTS YOUR HAIR FOR YOU TOO—he's down to try pretty much anything you want for haircuts and is so focused when he does it

-Is probably more proud of your hair than you are tbh

Donald Malarkey:

-Asks you for hair care tips, tbh

-The first time he sees your hair out of a helmet or a bun, he gets all starry-eyed and absolutely falls in love haha

-Is admittedly not great at hair, but he will give it his best go with you

-Absolutely likes to cuddle and be the big spoon so he can smell your hair at nighttime

-Panics the first time that you ask him for help with detangling your hair but gosh, he certainly tries his best

Eugene Roe:

-COMPLIMENTS ALL OF THE TIME ABOUT YOUR HAIR

-He simply thinks that your hair is one of the prettiest things about you....so he's finding small little trinkets that could go in your hair

-Insists on learning about hair care and how he can best help you maintain your hair, whatever the length

-If you're ever sick, he will help you wash your hair so that it feels nice and clean

-Randomly knows how to deal with frizzy curly hair?? Because of one of his sisters. So he is a great help in that.

Bill Guarnere:

-Body positive hype king—who absolutely goes on and on about how amazing your hair is

-Specifically fell in love with the way that your hair smells and now he keeps a lock of your hair in a locket that he wears

-Buys you more brushes than you could ever possibly need

-Definitely consulted his older sisters about how to help with hair problems and came back a pro with all of the info you could ever need

-Knows a bunch of home-remedies for frizzy hair or how to help maintain curls in the cold

Joe Toye:

-Absolutely charmed you by giving you a flower for your hair

-Gets all blushy (not that anyone ever found out) the minute he sees your natural hair

-Is already planning on how to make his parachute into a wedding veil because it will look so good in your hair

-Loves the bed-time routine and when HE gets to be the one to brush through your hair before bed. It's a favorite of his for sure.

-Consistently brings you flowers for your hair throughout the rest of your relationship

George Luz:

-Accidentally blurted out his intrusive thoughts about your hair that were oddly weird and sweet??

-He's got a thing for knowing exactly what hairstyles would look good on you with your hair

-Absolutely brags about you to everyone who will listen

-Is such a shy softie when you ask what he's staring at during sex and he has to admit that he just really likes your hair and touching it haha

-Thinks you look even better with wet hair though, and that's a whole other story lol

[kurishiri]

25 . . . alfons main story — mad love finale

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: none; i hope you enjoy 🪞🤍

—— Alfons’ POV ——

If life were a fairy tale, finding happiness would be a simple thing.

As long as you were gentle and kind, someone positively brimming with love, that was enough.

Such were often the protagonists of these stories... and this very role would usually find their happiness, as they were meant to be.

But, what if you were a villain, the worst of the worst?

What would happen if the one you fell in love with, then, was that very ‘protagonist’ in those fairy tales——?

Perhaps, the chance of finding that ‘happiness’ for yourself in the end would be ceaselessly low.

What about me, you ask?

——Hehe, that is a good question indeed.

Which would you say is the answer?

—— Kate’s POV ——

——After the promised month...

I turned in my final report to Victor, who looked up with a satisfied expression.

Victor: Thanks for this, Kate. For keeping our secrets to the end, and for recording their sins.

Kate: It’s a relief that I was able to manage this job you entrusted me with.

K: I wanted to record all of what I honestly could say were sins, taking laws and morals into account.

Victor: So you did. And the things you specially mentioned were also quite an interesting read.

Kate: I just really wanted to write down what I could about what I felt of the things I saw before me.

I couldn’t make a clear-cut claim that such deeds ‘were not a sin,’ as those were simply my personal feelings,

but I also couldn’t set aside all personal feelings and make a confident claim on all fronts that such actions ‘were a sin.’ It was a last resort, so to speak.

In reality, the things that Alfons did were much like facing a mirror: ‘good’ and ‘evil’ were but two sides of the same coin.

He would show others illusions, drive others to the brink of madness——but some people sought salvation in that very deed.

His job, where he took the lives of others, was without a doubt a sin to be sure——but there were lives that couldn’t be saved without taking those of others as well.

Victor: Well, if you ask me, I’d say these notes of yours are actually essential and valuable things.

Kate: Huh...?

A little surprised, I stared at Victor, who narrowed his eyes fondly.

Victor: I said this from the start, didn’t I? That I wanted you to write what you thought were sins.

V: And in your eyes... they were not people who were cursed to commit sins,

V: but rather another individual like yourself. I could clearly see that as I read your reports.

V: And you did not make assumptions based on statuses, titles, and superficial impressions... rather, you tried to face them before your eyes.

V: It’s that part of you that I truly do believe will lead England to a better place.

With a hint of affection, Victor looked down at the words.

It was the same expression he would occasionally give to everyone in Crown and me.

Kate: Can I ask... why did you and William start Crown?

Victor: Hm? Let’s see...

V: Just as we held the same wish for our country to become a brighter place to live in for everyone,

V: we had also wished for those who could only live within the darkness to freely spread their wings... I would say.

Perhaps I still only knew a fragment of the darkness of the world that spread before them.

But, even so, I had no qualms stepping into that very world.

Victor: Now then, with this you are free to do as you like.

V: So, if you don’t mind me asking, what do you plan to do from here on out?

Kate: Of course you can ask.

I raised my chin in response.

Kate: I would like to continue working as fairytale keeper.

K: Because I want to spend my life fighting against Alfons’ fate.

Much like a swaying illusion,

the Alfons before me slipped between my fingers so many times I had long lost count, leaving my heart a wanderer without a place to call home.

But, every time that happened, hope would once again show up before me.

Kate: I tried looking into it with Roger, and I felt then that there was something even I could do.

K: And besides... the more we relive our memories, the deeper they become a part of us.

K: So, just maybe, if my body — from my eyes to my ears to my nose, and everything — were to take that all in deeply, there could be something left behind in the end.

Victor narrowed his eyes with a smile before nodding.

Victor: ...That’s wonderful to hear. You have my full support.

Kate: Thank you.

Victor: Well then...

V: Have you told all this to the person in question himself about it?

Kate: About that——...

—— Time skip ——

Kate: And with that, I look forward to working with you from now on.

Roger: Same here.

In the report to Her Majesty the Queen, I had written in there about Alfons’ Curse and his ability,

and so, I summarized everything I knew and gave it to Roger, the corners of his lips quirking into a smile.

Roger: But aren’t you a bad lil lady, sneaking part of the report meant for the Queen.

Kate: Well, I would say such reports find their value when handed to a highly competent researcher.

K: I’m sure even if I searched every nook and cranny of England, I wouldn’t find another researcher as earnest about Curses as yourself.

K: So, I was thinking if this could help research on Curses make even a bit of progress,

K: then this would benefit Her Majesty the Queen as well, seeing as she uses Cursed ones for the good of the country, right?

Elbert: ...hehe.

Hearing a laugh that resembled the sunlight filtering through the leaves from beyond a light lace curtain, I looked up.

There, I saw the smile of a beautiful person, who was on a simple bed for an examination, looking at us.

Kate: Did we say something strange...?

Elbert: No... it’s just, I was thinking how the way you speak has come to resemble Al a little.

Kate: Huh?

(Did it really sound like him...?)

I felt heat rising on my face suddenly, and in haste I tried to change the subject.

Kate: Uhm, so what brings you here, Lord Elbert? Did you get injured anywhere?

Roger: He was staggering on his feet from sleep deprivation, so I just gave him some sleeping pills to put him to sleep.

Kate: A-are you alright...?

Elbert: Yes. It happens quite often... so it’s nothing to worry about.

E: ...If there is anything troubling you, though, you can tell me. I will do anything I can to help.

E: So that this time, for sure... this happiness will not shatter for the both of you.

(‘For sure’...?)

His words made me feel a bit uneasy, but seeing a bit of sadness in Lord Elbert’s eyes, I didn’t prod further.

Thinking back, it felt as though until something that could bring about the end happened, like Alfons leaving behind a will and disappearing,

Lord Elbert had always been watching over us from a bit of a distance.

(Maybe someday... I will come to understand what the words just now meant, and why his eyes seem so sad.)

Kate: ...That goes for you too, Lord Elbert. If there’s anything I can help you with, please let me know.

Elbert: I appreciate it. ...But, if you and Al are happy together, I couldn’t ask for anything more... I think.

Roger: So basically, you’re gonna continue being Al’s exclusive fairytale keeper.

R: ...So, that leaves us with the question: where in the world is the person in question on the day that marks the anniversary of your contract renewal?

Kate: That——...

K: You’re right, he isn’t here... or anywhere...

The things I had talked about with Victor, and everything else too... I had not yet talked about any of it to Alfons.

It was all because Alfons had gone out somewhere on some whim of his, and had yet to return.

—— Kate’s room ——

Kate: Just where did he head off to...

I knew he knew that today marked the promised day.

(Isn’t he even a tad curious about whether I’ll stay in the castle or return to the city...?)

While I did feel a bit blue, when I returned to my room, I saw an envelope I never seen before on top of the bed.

(I-I can barely read this messy handwriting... it’s Alfons...!)

I opened the envelope in a panic——and on it only the words ‘post office’ were written.

Kate: W-what in the... is he telling me to go there? What is going on——ahh, jeez!

Nothing would come out of me just standing around, so I bolted out of my room.

—— Post office ——

Director: To think not only would you turn in such a formal resignation, but also come greet us in person, that makes me happy.

Director: For the record, if you ever find trouble at your new workplace, you’re always welcome back here.

Director: Oh, yes, that’s right. There was someone who came in telling me to hand you this envelope if you came by.

This time, I was sent to the pub——

—— Pub ——

Pub owner: Hey there, it’s been a while, miss. Did Al make you cry again?

Pub owner: If he does something to hurt you, you let me know. I’ll give him a good blow with the bottle he keeps here.

Pub owner: Oh yeah, before I forget. Here, Al said to give this to you if you came.

And then after that, I found myself in the market that the boy we had saved from the Docklands arson was working at.

—— Market ——

Boy: Ah... m-miss...

Boy: Uhm, at the docks... I wanted to, uhm, thank you... for saving me...

Boy: R-right now, I... I was referred to by the one who got me in the hospital... and so now, I’m working here...

Boy: I didn’t know life could feel this warm till now.

Boy: Ah, and this... the mister from that time told me to give this to you if you came, miss...

—— Kate’s room ——

Kate: Haa... haa... jeez, all that and I’m back where I started...!?

Being sent here and there thanks to those letters, by the time I returned to my room, the sun had already long set.

The final envelope was placed on top of my bed, just as the first one had been——

“Welcome back. I am aware you must have been run ragged the entire day, but if you so fancy, how about a party tonight?”

“If the answer is YES [1], then please dress up and come to the dining room.”

Albeit unreasonable, I still did as the message told, in the end having dressed up like the fool I must have been.

Even the Alfons in my mind was laughing mockingly at me, saying, ‘You truly are so foolishly earnest,’ as I ran for the dining room, and...

Kate: Alfons, what in the world were you trying to do—— ...!?

The sight of the dining table decorated with an extravagant dinner took my breath away.

Alfons: To think you were just run sooo very ragged, and yet you ended up still coming here...

A: You truly are a fool, aren’t you.

Alfons, who was sitting leisurely in a seat,

stood right up and walked toward me, respectfully extending his hand.

Kate: Did something happen? ...Ah, did Victor prepare all this...?

Alfons: No? The one who prepared all of this while you were running all around London was none other than me.

A: Well, how about it? Doesn’t it take your breath straight away? By all means, please praise me with the most colorful words you can muster.

Kate: Wait, you prepared... all of this...?

Alfons: Oh dear, had it slipped my mind? It just so happens I am quite proficient at cooking.

Alfons flashed me a wink as he said so.

Alfons: You may perhaps call it the result of having eaten rubbish for meals, but I can hardly resist anything delicious, you see.

A: It’s a surprise for you.

And with that, he escorted me, still in a daze, to my seat.

Alfons: Say, Kate, how was it, taking in the outdoor London air today?

He spread a napkin on my lap, his breath as he giggled brushing my ear.

Kate: Huh...?

Alfons: I do imagine the post office must have been a nostalgic trip. And seeing as you’re so very honest and earnest, so it must have been a place you hold close to your heart, no?

A: And I reckon you don’t hold many great memories from the pub. Well, anyhow, the place in and of itself isn’t bad.

A: And see, the boy you saved is now living a fine life in the lively parts of London, I would think.

A: ...Did you ever feel like going back?

This man beside me wore the devil’s smile.

It would seem that the real goal behind making me run all around today was not to buy time for a surprise.

——Would going back not make you happier?

He had me go all around the entire day just to allude me to the devil’s whisper.

Kate: You are the utter worst, I swear.

Alfons: Oh my, your words do vex me.

Kate: I guess I will leave the castle and return to my normal everyday life... if I said such a thing, what would you have done with this feast?

Alfons: Why of course, I would eat everything here by my poor little lonesome in tears.

A: You would be free from getting yourself tangled in this tragedy, and I would dance upon this amusing stage, just as I always had been until now. That’s all there is to it.

Kate: Is that so...

K: In that case... here’s my answer.

Returning his look, I pressed my lips on his.

When I bit his lips sweetly, Alfons narrowed his eyes.

His lips wore a smile that looked as though he was looking at a kitten playfully clinging onto his fingertips with its fangs.

Alfons: ...I hear you, loud and clear.

His whisper fell between our lips before my breath was stolen once again.

Kate: Mn... ——ah!

Alfons held me in his arms and lifted me up like I was a child,

and he set me on top of the dining table, causing the napkin that was on my lap to flutter down to the floor.

Alfons: I will return your kiss, directly on your body.

[1] After a bath.

[2] You have bad manners. (+4 / +4)

[3] After we move rooms.

Kate: ——But, doing this on top of a table... it’s bad manners...

Alfons: Dare I say, though, you are not much better in that department, seeing as you’ve tempted me with such a sexy dress, no?

He ignored my protests as if it was the most natural thing, and holding my hand, he pressed it on the table.

Alfons: Heh...

Kate: mngh...!

The palm of his hand slipped in the slit of my dress, slowly crawling up my thighs,

causing my body to jump and the wine glass to fall with a clang.

Alfons: And anyhow, I’m more than sure you have long known by now——

A: I hardly have the sincerity to honor things like manners, no?

Looking down at me, collapsed on the table, Alfons smiled mirthfully,

before he stood up, taking off his coat and gloves.

Seeing him do so, I forgot about where we were as I felt a heat rise within me.

The whole day, I missed him so, so much... and that feeling burned within my heart, to the point it hurt.

Kate: ...This whole day, while I was walking around the city, I couldn’t think about anything but you. You were the only one in my mind.

K: I kept thinking to myself, oh, maybe the next place I’ll see him and whatnot... that was all I could think about...

As my feelings swelled——I took his tie, pulling it toward me.

The feeling of his weight on me was so endearing, I wanted to cry.

Kate: There’s no longer room anymore for something like my old life... everything is just positively filled to the brim with you.

Even if I was made to dance in the palm of his hand, and toyed around with... before tragedy awaited us in the end...

Kate: So what if all of it is a tragedy...?

K: I will see to it that you have so much fun you fall off the stage——

K: And I will show you the world’s most amusing tragedy.

Alfons: ...Hehe, so I see. An ‘amusing tragedy,’ you say...

A: Indeed, if the one playing the role of my dance partner is you, that does hold a charming ring as well.

A: Say, Kate... actually, all of today was exactly for this.

The memory of the night we had first met seemed to overlap and melt together with our connected gazes.

Kate: And what is ‘this’...?

Alfons: Your words, and the way you looked so very angry as you burst into this room,

A: and how I expected you to dress yourself up for this very party, despite how angry you were...

A: It was all to reveal your true love through those things... and relish in that.

Kate: ngh, ah...

Those naughty fingers tickled my skin, lighting a flame in my core.

Heat throbbed where his waist was pressed against me, my legs spread.

Just as he said... even though he was like an illusion who slipped between my fingers, if he sought out my love so greedily...

Indeed, if he were to do something as folly as this,

——I felt my heart might burst from fondness and happiness.

(Tell me more. And carve more of yourself in me.)

(Your words, your heat... and your truth.)

Alfons: ...I see that you are not bringing up anything about the dinner tonight, unlike the cupcakes.

Having seen right through me, my words caught in my throat, and he looked down at me in delight.

Alfons: My, just where did that spirit from earlier go? Come now, tell me, won’t you?

A: In times like this... what do two people who love each other to the fullest do?

My heart pounded in my chest so hard, it was a bit hard to breathe.

After all, beyond the mirage that had vanished, I could now see your true smile.

Kate: ...Dinner can come later.

K: At times like this... we should make a mess of each other and make love.

His thin lips slowly curved up.

Alfons: ——Ah, thank goodness.

A: Truth be told, the menu is all foods that taste good even while cooled.

(Wh...)

Kate: Wait, was this what you were aiming for from the beginning...?

Alfons: Ahha! Mind not phrasing it as though I’m only after your body? It’s quite scandalous, you know.

Kate: I am pretty sure I’m half right though at least...

Alfons: And perhaps the other half, then, may be something like a sincere heart, love, or something of that nature, no?

A: Whatever you wish to believe is the truth itself.

Utterly ridiculous and a good-for-nothing; villainous and insincere at best, he was much like a nightmare.

He loathed tragedies, and he liked cats.

Oh, and he liked delicious things... and probably, me as well.

That was the Alfons I knew——the truth I never, ever wanted to forget.

Alfons: You won’t say something like how you are already at your limit now, will you?

A: ...After all, you will entertain me more, won’t you?

The end awaiting us——would it be a tragedy? Or a comedy? There is no way to know.

But is that not what makes a story interesting?

The characters in the story can only venture onwards, believing in the ending that they themselves wish for.

This love may prove to be the spice that heightens the cruelty of a tragedy,

Or, perhaps, it would become the key that will turn this into a comedy——

But regardless of whichever it turns out to be, the ‘truth’ I want to believe in... had already long been set in stone.

Fin.

Act 3 • An amusing dinner party

← prev fin. epilogue → his side

masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️

NOTES:

[1] The original Japanese text quite literally says [YES] on there, in English letters and all caps. This may have a hidden meaning, so to speak, of Alfons inviting Kate to have sex. At least in Japan, couples may be gifted with pillows where one side says ‘YES’ and the other ‘NO,’ basically to indicate whether you want to do the deed, so it may be a sort of small subtle reference to that.

END NOTES: oh my gosh i half can’t believe i managed to translate an entire main story branch, i feel proud of myself for that 🥹🤍 i feel like this route as a whole was just such an emotional roller coaster, haha. i like how the last part is sort of left on an open-ended note, sort of like how they don’t know what the future will hold, but for now — in this moment — they are happy. i think for them, that is the best thing.

also i really like how kate was even able to get some closure with side characters here too. just the way they put in all the side characters in this chapter, it’s like the things you do will come back to you, you know.

i hope i could do alfons some justice and that you enjoyed the main story of his mad love branch!

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia @.comment, send an ask off anon, or dm to be added or removed!

[mushiemellows]

drunken love confessions, prompt 1. sanji and usopp

(For Drunken Love Confession prompts, still accepting requests!)

"I like your stupid face. It’s so stupid. It’s so… I like it. Can I touch it?"

The Great Captain Usopp had been drunk plenty of times. So many. You could try to count how many times The Great Captain Usopp had been drunk before, but then you couldn’t actually get there in the end because the number was just too big. The most. He dr-he drank every day, in fact! He drank so much every day that he was-he was probably always drunk! Yeah! He didn’t even remember the last time he was sober! 

So when Zoro handed him another beer, of course he knew what the consequences would be! They’d stolen a few barrels off of a little crew they’d beaten up just outside of Longuetown. The fight had been vicious and bloody, as all pirate fights tended to be. But he was cool about it. Didn’t scream at the sight of the blood. Didn’t have the single instinct to get the hell out of there. Nah. Not the Great Captain Usoop. He was cool under pressure. The coolest.

And his position as a sniper did its best in the back lines, that wasn't his fault. Up in the crows nest, raining hellfire down on those who dared challenge the new rookie Straw Hat Pirates as they made their grand escape from the East Blue. The loser crew had scuffed his Merry, but he made them pay, took his revenge tenfold. Hundredfold. Millionfold? Millionfold. 

Luffy had laughed the skirmish off, but everyone else hadn’t fared so well. Zoro was still raw in the chest, which had put the bulk of offense on Sanji. Their newest crew mate took quite the beating to the face, black eyed and swollen. Nami had done some initial patch work before the Great Captain Doctor Usopp swept in to really get the job done. He didn’t know what Luffy was talking about, they didn’t need a doctor! He could do it, and surgery definitely didn’t give him the heebie jeebies. He could do it every day. He could do it drunk! 

His nakama had their little celebration in light of the minor victory, cuts and bruises be damned. The beer flowed. And then it kept flowing. And continued to do so. Even more, oh, oh god that was a lot of beer. The Great Captain Usopp was always drunk, but was also starting to think that maybe there was such a thing as too much beer. He opened his mouth to ask for some water, but the words that came out requested…more beer. 

Nami went to bed early, while Zoro and Luffy passed out at the dining table in a sea of plates and cups. Some people just couldn’t handle their liquor. He got it, he remembered his first time getting blackout drunk. Which was years ago, and definitely not that night. 

He and Sanji had ended up laying on the deck, taking watch first, staring up at the stars. Usopp liked talking to their newest addition, liked learning about this boy who’s life seemed so opposite of his own. They both spread out and felt the earth spin beneath them as they hurtled through space and sea, a sensation that was definitely real and not a result of all the alcohol. He couldn’t even feel the drink at this point! That’s how totally used to being wasted he was. Psh. Nothing. 

“Whadja do that for?” Usopp asked in his most usual, normal, everyday slurred tone.

“Do what?” Sanji frowned. 

“Your face, you big idiot! I thought—fight ‘em with little leggies.” 

“What?!”

Those hadn’t been the words Usopp meant to speak at all. He was trying to say something along the lines of I’m worried about how your eye looks, that was a really close call. Your up close fighting style makes it so that you’re easy to hit and leaves you wide open. You seem very hurt and I wish I could help you feel better. I care about your wellbeing. But those weren’t the words that came out of his mouth. None of the words he was trying to say seemed like they matched his intention, in fact. 

“Sometimes,” he sat up and squinted at Sanji, “we and then you go and but how come it’s except when. So that I said which isn’t not what he. Stupid little. Eyes and mouth in the but a head. Ouch. Hot. Y’know?” 

“You’re drunk, dumb ass.” 

“Oh?”

“I’m getting you water,” the cook stood to make his way to the galley, but the sniper stood just as fast. Storyteller’s hands gripped his shoulders tight. The world spun.

“Look! It isn’t that easy to scrumb your mufflins with the rest of us! You gotta take the chance when you see it or else but we in the…y’know. Boom. Get it, idiot?” 

“Not in the slightest, what the hell are you even talking about?” 

“Sanji, Sanji, Sanji. I’m. And then I see you. Ouch. Stupid beauty baka boy. Right? And then we go and but if we and you are. Until next time. Duh,” Usopp rolled his eyes and wished desperately that the right words would form. “No. I’m…”

“You’re getting your water, I’m making you throw up, and then you’re going to bed, is what you are,” Sanji frowned as he turned to go, but the other boy still gripped him tight. 

“WAIT. You can’t.” 

“Why can’t I?”

“They’ll getcha.” 

“…Who?” 

“I dunno! Too pretty. Stupid little pretty stupid idiot dumb ass beautiful. Why?” 

“Have you lost your mind?” The cook balked, growing genuinely worried about the other man’s incoherence. 

“When… Look at your face. Yeah. Wanna’nother beer?” 

“NO!” 

Usopp leaned in to investigate the bandages on his crew mate's cheek. A thick cloud of booze clung to his breath. “I like…stupid face. So stupid. Face. It’s so… heh. Like it. Can I touch?” 

“Wh-what?” 

“So pretty. Wanna… kiss pretty. But also and I you. Think…love. Yeah. You okay? It—yikes, ouch. Come here baby, Captain Doctor Usopp heal better,” he giggled to himself and puckered his lips. 

“You’re way too drunk for me to kiss! And—and you’re—and we,” Sanji blushed, stammering words now just as incomprehensible as the drunk man’s. 

Usopp giggled with a pat to the cook’s cheek, between his jaw and his ear on the side mostly covered by hair. “Heh. Sure-ee-o, Romeo. Yes chef, on it, boss. You gotta. Maybe breakfast.”

“You’re hungry?”

“Sanji, Sanji, man will live a life of quicksand, but not understand that the grains of freedom were in his fingers until the hourglass has run dry. You know this. One day, will know this again.” 

Sanji burst into laughter, “yeah? And who said that, dumb ass?” 

“The Great Captain Usopp just did!” 

“Alright, Captain Usopp. You sit here, I’m getting you that water. Stay put, don’t fall overboard. Got it?” The cook guided him to hold on to the railing tight. Funny, the sniper didn’t know that Merry could spin around like that. She was always showing him something new. 

Usopp stared at his newest crew mate with all the love and admiration in the world in his drunk fog. His words weren’t perfect, but he’d get better with time. Everything was just a matter of practice. Something new was starting to shape. Slumber seduced the Great Captain Usopp, taking all memories of the drunken night with him. A night just like any other when you’re a pirate so great and cool and suave. And then, it was gone.

Yet, Sanji stared out the porthole, empty water glass still on the counter, hand to his cheek on the side mostly covered in hair. Plenty of words formed in his mind, but none came out his mouth as intended. 

“He…wanted to kiss me?”

[archivedblog16]

To be honest, I'm getting REALLY sick and tired of seeing people say "Well they were only given eight episodes to make the season! They worked with what they had!"

Yeah you're right, it DOES suck that they weren't given more episodes as it would've helped in fleshing things out a bit better... but it shouldn't be used as an excuse for why it turned out so mediocre.

Sometimes when something like this happens, you gotta improvise and work with what you got. See what to cut out and keep as to help things flow a bit better. We would've been fine without seeing Heaven and getting the conflict with the exterminations right away, we would've been fine without a big war battle climax.

This season should've focused on introducing the characters and allowing us to actually get to know them, get some people in the hotel that actually WANTS to change for the better, and maybe even have the Vees step in a minor antagonists to build up to them being bigger threats.

Just fucking reuse some of the scrapped plotlines to fill them in, TREAT IT LIKE AN ACTUAL SHOW VIVZIE!!

Some people love to put all the blame on A24 and Amazon. But at the end it is the writers’ responsibility. I get it, Vivziepop doesn’t want her show to be cancelled so she puts her all eggs in a basket. But that doesn’t absolve Vivziepop from criticisms.

Season 1 should’ve been about the Hazbin squad (Charlie, Alastor, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Niffty, Husk, and Sir Pentious), getting to know them along with focusing on redemption whether it’s the cast doing trust exercises, a field trip regarding the history of Hell, a camping trip, etc.

The main cast is very bloated so there could have been individual episodes centralized around each character. For example, episode one would focus on Charlie, second episode would focus on Vaggie, etc.

But instead Vivziepop and the writers keep adding and introducing new characters every episode. We don’t even get to see the main cast even pitch their hotel in the official series or do most of their activities on screen. That is why killing or cutting your darlings is important and you should know your limits.

Even worst some of characters in the show don’t return after their debut episode making you question why they are even in the first season. Lucifer and Heaven shouldn’t be in the first season. And even if they do return, the character either is wasted space or overshadows the main character.

Season 2 is going to be sooo messy. Also, there are some shows that do have episodes 8 and don’t have a lot of runtime but still succeed in their writing.

[honeyryewhiskey]

moodboards for Deanna & Samantha Winchester !

me and bree (@titsout4jackles) were yappin about genderbend winchesters and after i made these moodboards for us the ideas just kept flowing???!! (skip to the end for the bonus. . . castiel !)

mary raised her girls to be hunters for survival. after john's tragic passing—she knew something supernatural was lurking in the shadows. she poured her heart into teaching them everything she knows, while trying her hardest to be the mom they deserve.

she tries to give them some semblance of home despite the constant moving around, with aunt bobbi-jo as a steady presence in their lives.

deanna . . .

mary put her eldest in the driver seat of the impala when she was barely thirteen, "you need to know how to make a getaway fast, dee."

deanna is good with a gun, better with her hands. a skill that comes in handy with sleezy men in bars.

deanna doesn't hunt for revenge—it's a duty. protecting the innocent from the evil that lurks in the corners. "I don't hunt because I want to, I hunt because I have to—because someone has to."

she doesn't let herself dream of any other life, not when she has a little sister to protect.

sammie . . .

Used to correct their mom’s latin exorcisms when she was barely out of elementary school. “actually, mom, it’s omnis immundus spiritus, not omnis spiritus immundus.”

sammie's still taller than deanna

always has emergency supplies because deanna is not a planner. first-aid kit? check. extra salt rounds? check. tampons? check.

the only reason she even considered college was because mary encouraged it. she saw how sharp her youngest was, how she would pour herself into all of the research of their cases. mary saw an out for sammie and pushed her towards it.

sammie can analyze lore faster than anyone, and she's a deadshot, but her heart is always somewhere else—dreaming of being more than just hands that sleigh monsters.

when mary disappears, it shatters them, leaving a void that nothing seems able to fill. the weight of her absence presses down on them, like a storm that won’t pass. “what do we do without her?”

samantha, always the one to follow the path she believed was right, leaves stanford, abandoning the future she had built for herself. It’s not just a school; it’s her dream, her escape, everything she thought she wanted. but without mary, it all feels meaningless. closing that door on her aspirations feels like cutting off a part of herself—yet, for her family, it’s what she needs to do. they need her.

deanna, on the other hand, channels her grief into an unrelenting fury. every monster she hunts, every threat she faces, is met with a wrath that burns hotter than hell. it's a fire fueled by loss and a desperation for control, as if killing enough things might somehow bring her peace. but in the silence that follows each victory, she’s only left with the crushing realization that it’s never enough.

they’re both lost without their mom. but, for now, they fight. for mary. for each other.

somewhere along the road . . .

Deanna drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, her eyes narrowing as she glanced between the road and the map spread across her sister’s lap. “So, uh, where the hell are we?”

Samantha let out a dramatic sigh, her eyes rolling so hard it was almost audible. “If you’d just listened to me ten minutes ago, you’d know we missed the turn.”

Deanna groaned, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Dammit, Sammie! You’re supposed to navigate!”

The map crumpled in Sam’s quick, frustrated movement as she turned it toward Deanna, her face pinched with irritation. “I did navigate! I told you to turn left, and you—”

“I did turn left!” Deanna snapped, her face flushed with the heat of her own frustration.

Sam sat back, arms crossed tightly against her chest, her posture stiff as she leaned into the worn vinyl seat. “No, you turned right, which is literally the opposite of left.”

Deanna’s hands shot up, her brows knitting together as her eyes burned with irritation. “Well, maybe your left is wrong!”

Sam’s head tilted to the side, her eyes narrowing into a sharp, annoyed glare as she stared at Deanna. “That... that’s not how directions work.”

Deanna huffed, waving Sam off with one hand while gripping the wheel with the other as her gaze stayed on the road. “Fine. Whatever. We’ll just turn around.”

Sam adjusted the map with a resigned sigh, her lips pressed into a thin line as she fought back the urge to say I told you so. “Great. Awesome. Love that for us.”

The car fell into a tense silence, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional creak of the old leather seats. Then, Deanna reached over, flicking Sam’s ear with a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

Sam jerked away with a sharp breath, slapping her hand away, her face scrunched up in annoyance. But there was a hint of something else in her eyes—amusement, even if she didn’t want to admit it. “Quit it.”

Flick.

“Deanna.”

Flick.

“DEANNA.”

Sam lunged at her, eyes blazing, but Deanna effortlessly dodged, her laugh full of mischievous delight as she swerved away from her sister’s grasp.

“Ugh! You’re so annoying,” Sam muttered, settling back into her seat. Her lips formed a pout, and her eyes darted to the window in a silent protest, but the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed her.

Deanna’s grin widened, her dimples deepening as she shot Sam a wink. “Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Deanna’s smirk was almost too playful to handle. “Shotgun does the snack run for getting us lost.”

Sam groaned, dropping her head back against the seat, her eyes half-lidded with exaggerated exasperation. “I hate you.”

Deanna chuckled, her green eyes flicking over to Sam as her voice softened with teasing affection. “Nah, you love me,” she quips, her dimpled smile only widening. “Now, be a good little navigator and find me the nearest gas station that sells pie.”

bonus . . . castiel !

(and yes there is so much sapphic subtext happening between cas and deanna)

for example . . .

cas is usually calm, aloof, but when a man flirts with deanna, something shifts. it’s not rage, but a sharp, uncomfortable feeling in her chest, one she tries to bury. she doesn’t understand it, nor does she want to. but she notices. she notices every little interaction and sometimes feels an overwhelming urge to remind deanna that she’s already someone’s priority—though she would never say it aloud.

j’s note — this was a fun little writing exercise with ideas and thoughts that i’m totally normal about… hah! no i’m not anyways now back to our regularly scheduled programs !

[melodiesz]

First Miguel fic + 250+ follower special ୨୧

I’d like to start off by saying THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR ALMOST 300 FOLLOWERS !! And 2000+ notes?!? omg. I checked my inbox a few times and saw 99+ notifs every time, and when I tell you I SCREAMED. As a new writer I can’t thank you enough for all the notes and sweet comments ! I’m so grateful, so take this fic as a thank you <33

Warnings: Miguel is hinted to have slept with socks on which….is a trigger on its own apparently 😥, potentially botched ass Spanish……(no Google translate was used tho, my French teacher taught me better than that), p in v, making out, grinding, slight blood, reader has no chill nor filter but Miguels lowkey into it, degradation, bondage, banter, oral, praise, etc.

a/n: Takes place before the whole Miles incident !! I love Miguel but I can’t forgive him for doing that to my son 🤨🤨 This could also be imagined as König, since they’re both huge stubborn men <33

Pairing: Female reader x Miguel O’Hara 

Summary: Miguel is pent up and needs a release. Lucky for him, there’s a certain spider woman who’d do anything for him <3

Words: 4141 (DAMN I shocked myself w this)

. . .

Miguel runs his hand through his hair, grumbling when he feels it’s getting to a length that needs cutting again. Just another thing to add to his pile of responsibilities.

He pushes the fumbled blanket off to the side and lazily palms at his morning wood, finding the ministrations do little to help his raging hard-on. He’s shocked, mainly that he could still get one with how tense he’s been lately, but mostly that he’s actually annoyed that he has to jerk off. It feels like a chore to him now…though taking care of himself in any sense has since he became Spider-Man.

With a sleepy groan he drags himself up and to the bathroom. His mismatched socks are soft against the cool bathroom tiles where he turns on the shower. His muscles stretch when he tugs his white sweater over his head and tosses it onto the ground nearby, abs tensing and shoulders refusing to relax no matter how much stretching he did.

When the rest of his clothing join the heap on the floor he steps into the freezing cold shower, twitching at the icy droplets that felt like tiny icicles poking into his taut skin. 

He hoped the temperature would make the nuisance go down, but it raged on, standing proud at its full height. Miguel never thought he’d find himself glaring at his own dick, but here he was, horny and heavily pissed off. 

He reached down and tugged at his cock, rubbing his thumb over the angry red tip. He jerked profusely, yet all it did was leave him feeling unsatisfied and humiliated. 

“Fuck.” He cursed, washing his hand off before aggressively turning the knob to stop the flowing water. He tried to remember what he had to do today while pacing the bathroom, but he couldn’t focus with his erection clouding  his thoughts. Maybe if the blood would stay in his head…

He was an attractive guy, he knew that much. It would be easy to go out into the town and hook up with some stranger, but not so much so when he was in this constant sour mood. That sullen energy & resting bitch face paired with his looming height would scare any woman away.

Any sane woman.

You tied up the last of the criminals in your silky webs, smiling in victory. Unfortunately, the joy wasn’t long-lasting since as soon as you got home you felt boredom creeping up on you once again.

For weeks you’d been entertained by the intimidating founder of the spider society; Miguel O’Hara.You’d been bugging him for days on end, literally drooling at his feet and begging him to come back to your place.

He kicked you out multiple times, but like a cockroach you couldn’t be squashed—and neither could your need for him. You just couldn’t take a hint apparently. When he picked you up by the back of your suit and threw you back into your universe, all you focused on was how easily he carried you with just one of his big, veiny hands.

The way that suit hugged his defined chest so well, and his massive arms where you could see every vein…plus that prominent bulge? You were sunk.

He’d finally run out of patience for you when you ‘accidentally’ messed with the tech for his suit, almost making him go full commando in front of everyone in the spider society.(wouldn’t be the last time that happened…) He banned you for good, taking away your ‘multiversal gizmo’ without a second thought.

Your last words being ‘worth it!’ as you were flung back into your universe by the go-home-machine seemed like the icing on the cake to him despising you forever, but apparently that wasn’t the case because the man himself just appeared in your living room.

“Y/N.” He addressed nonchalantly.

You stared at him, jaw agape for a few moments before pinching yourself to see if you were dreaming. You had to be, he basically filed a restraining order against you. A really complicated, multiversal restraining order. Why  would he ever voluntarily come to you?

You couldn’t even respond since your throat felt so dry .. . It seemed your body had other ideas of where to soak.

“Why are you so obbsesed with me?” He suddenly asked, paying no mind to your awkward silence. 

“uhm-“

“I mean, you chased me around every day, eyed me down so intensively it was basically public sex and yet here you are, alone with me like you wanted, and now you’re speechless?” He stalked around your living room, circling you like a bird of prey.

You blushed up a storm and stood frozen in front of him, trying to discretely rub your thighs together.

He eyed you down, noticing your obvious ministrations but only chuckling. “Sometimes I had wished you were an actual spider so I could crush you under the soles of my shoes, but lately I’ve found myself feeling as horny and desperate as you.” He admitted with a smirk that revealed his sharpened fangs. 

That confession had your mind reeling to the point all you could muster up was; “I would’ve let you step on me regardless.”

His smirk grew and he started to approach you until his shadow covered you completely. You had to tilt your whole head up to look him in his glowing red eyes now—but you couldn’t handle making the eye contact anyway.

“You are just a small little thing, yet I didn’t expect you to be all bark no bite. All those filthy things you said lingered in my mind..don’t you want to take care of what you started?” He asked in a deliciously low voice. The almost mocking manner he said it in made you feel called out, and you looked down at your hands and picked at your nails to try and calm yourself.

A clawed finger tilted your head up by the chin and forced you to look into his eyes. How could you forget—in all your time spent basically stalking him you noticed how he never broke eye contact with anyone that he was speaking to. It was both exhilarating and intimidating to see, and you felt that full force while finally being on the receiving end of it. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, arañita.” He ordered, and it sent tingles shooting up your spine.

You swore you heard your neck crack from how fast you looked up at him. He looked predatory staring down at you like that, eyes gleaming in the sunlight. “So? Will you finish what you started muñeca?” He asked, as if it was even a question to you.

“Fuck yes.” You agreed without missing a beat, making him chuckle darkly. “Needy thing.”

Before your mind could catch up you were suddenly being lifted by him and thrown on his shoulder with ease. He walked through the halls of your cozy apartment and waltzed into your bedroom without even searching for it, carelessly throwing you onto the bed.

You landed with a bounce on the soft comforter, feeling even smaller now with him standing above you. “Wha- how do you know where my bedroom is?” You asked when your brain finally decided to have a rational thought. 

“I’ve done my research—wanted to make sure you weren’t a spy. It was a waste of time, really, you’re just a horny stalker.” He shrugged.

You stared at him with an offended expression (tho it was 100% true) and went to argue until your lips were suddenly sealed by sticky red webs.

 “On your back.” He ordered. 

You crossed your arms at him first until he repeated the command in a low, dangerous voice. “Now.” Any defiance you had pretended to have quickly left your body and you laid down flat on the silk sheets.

He stalked over to you, all big and menacing as always. He leaned over you and forced your wrists together, twirling more glowing silk around them until they were bound above your head. 

He smirked down at you, leaning in to pepper kisses all over your neck. He sucked dark hickeys onto the sensitive skin of your throat, enjoying your muffled moans. While before he found your voice excruciating—he was now desperate to hear it crying out his name.

He stripped the webs off your mouth and you whined at the pain. The feeling resembled a bandaid being ripped off a fresh cut. He cooed pitifully above you and leaned in, whispering “Pobre araña, why don’t I kiss it better?” 

You nodded desperately until his lips met yours with a slight sting. He growled into your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours and exploring your mouth until you were squirming. He nibbled on your bottom lip, sharp canines threatening to break the skin. He pushed his muscled thigh between your legs and pressed down on your clit with his knee, the pressure making you moan under him. Your sweet sounds drove him wild, and he couldn’t help but bite down lightly on your lip until tiny droplets of blood dripped onto his tongue.

He groaned at the taste, his animalistic split-DNA going wild. When he pulled back—lips reddened, hair tussled and fallen slightly in front of his face— you couldn’t help but stare. His face looked so much more chiseled up close, cheekbones perfectly defined and a jawline sharper than the claws currently resting on your hips. 

His toned chest rose up and down steadily while he regained his breath, the familiar spider symbol on his suit growing bigger then smaller with each rise of his lungs like it was breathing. 

“Let’s take care of these, Cariño.” He addressed your clothing as if it were nothing but a nuisance for him before slicing your shirt right off you. He did this with ease, big claws moving onto your bottoms and clawing those off as well.

“Hey! Those were nice.” You pouted, though apparently he didn’t appreciate that comment because you were now being tied up even worse than before. Webs spewed from his wrist and circled your body like serpents, tying around your waist, arms, and thighs. “Don’t be a brat.” He ordered, webs tightening in warning. Once satisfied, he admired the way they looked pulled taut against your soft skin. “Red looks lovely on you, amor.” He praised, a quick switch from his previous comment.

He lifted you and reached behind your back, unclasping your bra with one hand. He threw it onto the ground somewhere with your torn up clothes, focusing his attention on your soft tits.

He hummed in content, playing with your nipples and letting his webs circle around the soft flesh of your breasts. He licked and sucked at one while tugging on the other, making you moan and squirm under him.

“Fuck Miguel- ah! more!” You whined desperately, coaxing a chuckle out of the behemoth. 

“Such a desperate slut.” He tutted, sucking marks all over your chest to match your throat. He kissed over the already forming hickeys, grazing his teeth dangerously close to your jugular. This man was massive, and made of pure muscle like a Greek god. He could easily hold you down without the help of his webs, but he wanted to focus full attention on you. 

He finally moved down to where you needed him most, going to rip your panties straight off you before you rudely slammed your thighs shut. “You take off your suit first….” You whined, embarrassed at being nearly completely nude before him while he was still covered. He was genuinely offended by this, feeling like he’d just had a door slammed on his face, yet he grumbled and messed around with his watch until the hologram started to dissipate.

Your jaw dropped wider and wider the more you took him in. The man resembled a skillfully carved statue belonging to Olympus itself. His biceps and abs were enough to challenge even Ares himself. Your eyes trailed lower and lower, leisurely mapping him out until your eyes locked on the weapon between his legs.

His dick stood loud and proud against his toned stomach, and it was massive. The man is 6,9, you knew he’d be big, but this thing was around 9 inches and looked like it could rip you in half. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it even if you tried—I mean—the thing was basically introducing itself to you. We’re talking hello, how are you and goodbye.

Miguel basked in your ogling, his ego swelling more than it already had since he first noticed your obsession with him.

You finally snapped out of your trance when he bent down and slipped off your soaked panties, kissing up your leg as he did so. You spread both your legs for him and he took that as an invitation to lean in and lick a stripe up your wet cunt. You jumped, not expecting him to get into it so quickly, but you definitely didn’t complain.

He prodded a finger at your hole and pushed it in slowly, holding your hips down with his free hand. He made sure to be mindful of the claws adorning his fingertips since they wouldn’t go back down thanks to his clouded mind. The thick digit went in without much resistance thanks to how wet you were, until he pushed in a second and started scissoring them. 

You moaned and whimpered at the stretch, two of his thick fingers the size of nearly four of yours. He pumped them in and out quickly, the slick sounds your pretty hole made for him music to his ears. Your slick dripped down his ring and middle fingers that he was ruthlessly pumping inside you and dribbled down his veiny forearm.

He massaged your walls and pushed against them, scissoring his fingers to stretch you as much as possible. He couldn’t hit your g-spot thanks to his clawed fingertips, so he sucked at your clit to fill that extra stimulation until your head was rolling back. 

Something circled your waist and you figured it was his arm until you looked back down to see more webs. You would wriggle far too much without them, and he needed his other hand to spread your folds to drag a mix of his salvia and your slick around your twitching clit. You mewled at the overwhelming stimulation, bucking onto his face while he had a full on make out sesh with your pussy.

Only when he finally sunk four fingers into you and you were basically on the brink of tears with need did he pull away. Not without blowing on your sensitive clit, of course, just to see you twitch and squirm under the unrelenting grasp of his webs.

He stood up with a playful smile, freeing you from some of the webs just to pull you to the edge of the bed. Your ass met his pelvis with a slap when he yanked you by the ankle that quickly locked around his waist. He chuckled out something in Spanish that you didn’t understand, maybe along the lines of “Qué bonita putita…”. You didn’t bother to question it when he started to grind his rock hard dick on your drooling pussy, getting him all nice and wet to push into you. 

Only when he was coated completely in your essence did he listen to your pleas and finally line his fat tip up at your hole. Even with the all the stretching, your poor cunt had to stretch to accommodate the swollen red tip. His pre-cum mixed with your juices when it finally popped in after some resistance, and he groaned at the warm feeling.

“So fucking tight, your poor pussy can’t take it, hm? You were so confident when you were begging for it like a desperate whore.” He growled, degradation making you clench Impossibly tighter around his head until he had to bite back a groan.

“Please Mig, I can take it.” You begged, rutting your hips onto him and trying to coax him deeper until he swiftly grabbed your waist. His claws dug into your skin, threatening to break through. He pulled back and you immediately assumed he was going to tease you again for being desperate. 

Straight away you whined out apologies, stumbling over your words and pleas until he suddenly slammed back inside you, cramming 5 of his solid inches into your hole. You screamed, tears brimming on your waterline at the stretch. Your back arched off the bed and you squirmed away from the sting until he pulled back and rutted back in again, almost as if testing the waters.

With every drag of his hips his cock slowly got deeper into you until he was bottomed out completely. His tip kissed against your cervix and you looked down, amazed and horrified to see him crammed inside you so snugly. He gave you a moment to compose yourself—preoccupied on the bulge in your lower stomach. 

“My good girl, fitting around me so perfectly. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He teased, dick twitching at the fucked out moan you gave in response.

It definitely was hard, yet his dick was harder. You could feel every single vein and ridge pressing into you, rubbing against your gummy walls in a way that left you drooling. You suddenly understood why he’d prepped you for so long. It wasn’t just to tease you, this just was not an easy thing to take. 

“Move,” you pleaded, correcting youself when he raised an eyebrow, “please.”

He hummed, palming at the fat of your hips to see the way your skin sunk under his touch. “I don’t know Cariño…do you really deserve this dick?” 

You gave him your best “are you for real?” face. This man was not about to make you beg when he was the one to randomly show up in your home. You’d been begging on your knees for him for months, and now he chooses to acknowledge it?

You made it your personal mission to go against everything he’s ever ordered from you, and the grind never does stop, does it?

“Like you deserve to kiss my ass?” You jest without hesitation. 

You can see the way his whole face stretches; clearly dumbfounded at your response before he’s able to compose himself. With your cunt wrapped around him so tight and warm like that, it’s easy to forget the pretty spider underneath him is a little rascal.

“You were just whining a second ago, don’t try that,” He warned. “You’ve been begging for it for months, practically humping my leg in front of the entire Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Universe.” 

You groaned at his insistence on calling it that, even while balls deep inside you. “I didn’t sign up to fuck a geek,” you mutter.

“With the way you approached me I’m sure you’d fuck just about anyone, puta.”

You wanted to be insulted, but your words caught in your throat when he leaned close to you to whisper right into your ear; “Quit acting like you had any dignity in the first place and beg.”

His warm breath on your nape left you shivering. Miguel wasn’t human—not completely. With DNA mixed with a spiders, he was a predator; one ready to devour you whole.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone really when you gradually let quiet pleas spill from your mouth. Miguel had half the mind to make you speak up, but he was loosing his thin amount of patience as is. With a satisfied click of his tongue, he pulled back until his flushed head was right at your entrance “see, was that so hard?”

You knew better than to try and answer at this point when he rammed his cock back into you. Huge hands gripped your thighs and pushed your legs into your chest while he bullied his dick further and further into your cunt. 

Your pussy was embarrassingly loud for him, squelching with each brutal thrust of his hips. His muscled thighs were tense with the pure strength he put into slamming into you—beating your sensitive pussy in until it memorized his shape for life. 

“Mig- ah! Holyfuck!” You screamed, draping your arms over his shoulders and scratching at his back like a cat post.

“Go on princesa, mark me up.” He encouraged and got a better grip on your thighs, pushing your legs out to a full spread. He had you displayed like a dinner feast and bent you like a lawn chair with your lower half on his toned chest. He was actually impressed at your flexibility, yet like always he chose the worst way to phrase it.

“I’m shocked, I never expected you to do any real training.” 

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what you’ve been wanting, is it not?” He gloated with such a shit-eating expression that you just had to wipe off his face. He sunk deeper into you when you pulled him in for a kiss and it had you clenching around him.

His thrusts got more erratic until your mind was clouded with only the sounds of his dick disappearing into your cunt. His hands were dragging you back onto him by the hips at the same time, so you could feel him bumping against your cervix with each thrust.

You were too fucked out to say anything other than broken moans and mewls of his name, and he wasn’t too far off.

“So pretty Cariño,” he groaned, “all for me? mierda- yeah, all for me.”

A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your bruised lips in response. He pounded your pussy with so much vigour that you edged forward on the ruffled mattress with each rough thrust.

He massaged your throbbing clit between his fingers, laughing at the way they kept slipping around from how much of your own arousal was dripping down your cunt. Heavy balls slapping against your soft skin filled your ears when you felt that coil in your stomach start to snap.

“Pussys gripping me like a fucking vice- you gonna cum for me?” he teased, “look baby- look at how well this sweet little pussys taking me.”

He took your hand and lead it down until it was tracing the prominent bump in your stomach - You could feel every brutal thrust and see the way he ravaged your insides. You pressed down on it, getting impossibly tighter around him and the broken moan he let out was what got you.

He quickly tore a mind-numbing orgasm out of you - thick cockhead still splitting you open while he worked your clit. You soaked his cock and squeezed against it, shaking and crying under him until you could barely take it anymore. 

He smiled in pride, sharp fangs showing and making him resemble the waiting mouth of a shark. “Such a good fucking girl, coming all over me like that. Look at the mess you’ve made,” he hummed, observing the noticeable white ring you left around the base of his cock. 

His thrusts stuttered before stilling completely inside you. He made a noise akin to an animal before spilling his hot cum inside your welcoming heat with a shudder and a broken moan.

“Mfhm- mierda.. .” He cursed, his warmth filling you up so much it started to spill out.

You felt like a rag doll under him, half-asleep and smiling dumbly up at him. He chuckled and admired one last time how pretty you looked in his glowing red webs, wrapped around you like his own custom lingerie. 

He sliced them off you and smiled warmly when you raised your arms out to him. He leaned in to let you wrap your arms around his massive shoulders with your legs now wrapping around his waist.

He picked you up with you curled into him like a koala - the warm sensation of his cum dripping down your connected bodies grounding you while he walked to your bathroom. 

He pressed soft kisses to your marked up-neck while he ran a warm bath, rubbing at the indents his claws subconsciously left on your hips. 

You didn’t remember exactly when you fell asleep; somewhere between when his large hands washed the cum off your skin or when he gently laid you down on your fresh bedsheets. 

All you knew was that you woke up to the smell of clean laundry and noticed snacks and a water bottle left on your nightstand. There was a note too that you had to reach over to grab. His handwriting was smudged but fancy, and it was so adorably him that it left you smiling ear to ear. 

“Had to leave early. Meet me in my office tomorrow and we’ll discuss how you’ll be living in my universe from now on ,seeing as how you’re now mine, mi vida.” 

. . .

[hermetiqa]

What's your message today?

Daily Message: 02.08.24

Close your eyes and take a deep breath before picking a pile. If you feel drawn to more than one pile, it's alright, you may take the piles that you're drawn to. What's important is to take it how it resonates and leave what doesn't.

PAID READINGS

TIP JAR

FEEDBACK

NOTE: Please feel free to give me a feedback on my ask box about the reading! As well as tips on my Ko-fi. I would highly appreciate it and it'll be a huge help for me to save money for my tuition fee this year.

Pile 1

Hello, Pile 1! This is such a lovely day for a reminder. I'm getting that you're in a confused state right now. Perhaps you're confused about your environment, especially the people surrounding you. Some of your connections are not working anymore. Some people don't serve you anymore. This is because you're growing as a person and you're outgrowing them. Most of the time, you lose people along the way because the version of them doesn't go along with your new version, and that's okay. You outgrow not only yourself, but other people as well. This is your reminder to leave connections that no longer serve you. Cut off people who aren't happy for your growth and achievements in life. You don't deserve them in your life and you know this in your mind, but in your heart, you're still denying it. But one way or another, you'll realize that some people are just not meant to be in your life on the long-run, or perhaps forever. Some people don't appreciate you and you don't need these people. It's okay to let go of people who only love your miserable and unhealthy version, and never happy for your growth.

Pile 2

Hello, Pile 2! I'm seeing a lot of in denial here. I'm hearing that you're not seeing things clearly. You refuse to view things logically and you're having a hard time looking for new possibilities to have a better future. You're more of a living-in-the-present person and you're just going with the flow. But I'm getting that you're like this because you're too scared of the future. You have a lot of what ifs going on in your head. What if it doesn't work out this way? What if I regret this decision? What if I need to do this and that? What if I fail? What if I disappoint people in my life? This is your reminder that failing is a part of life, that's how you'll learn. Whenever you fail, you get up, then let yourself take the risk and fail again. If you're not going to take the risk, what's going to happen? Nothing. This is your sign to take the risk and grab the opportunity that was presented to you. You don't know whether a good future is waiting for you at the end of it. And you'll never know unless you take it. You're an adventurous person, so go and start your adventures.

Pile 3

Hello, Pile 3! I'm having a lot of emotions coming from your end. Your reading leans more towards relationships, specifically romantic relationships. I'm getting that you're in a relationship right now, whether this is a situationship or you're still dating or it's official. In any case, you might feel like the person you're dealing with is not giving you what you want or need. This person is not reciprocating your energy, efforts, and even love. You're scared of ending this connection with the person because they made you feel loved, but that's simply because no one did the bare minimum for you. But this person can't even do the bare minimum, they just do more than other people, even your friends and family. You have an emotional connection with this person, which is why it's quite difficult for you to end it. You're emotionally attached to them and you do love them. But you have to make a choice. I'm getting betrayal here. This person might be betraying you right now and they're taking the risk of losing you because for them, the grass is always greener somewhere else. I'm hearing a message that says take a break. Take a break from them and from your connection so you can actually reassess it. It's time to reassess this. You already went through a lot and this person won't be any different. Your heart might be sinking as you read this, and I know it feels heavy, but we all have to go through that so we can learn. This time is just for you to learn. Let go.