#i have a cracked tooth and i am going to be responsible about it!!

[sapphicautistic]

Repeatedly chanting "I don't want to, but I can, and I'm going to."

[norrizzandpia]

Reckless Driving (LN4)

Summary: When McLaren thinks its funny to put Y/n in a sports-car with her boyfriend and a set of question cards. Spoiler Alert: She doesn’t!

Warnings: Absolutely none. TOOTH. ROTTING. FLUFF. ⚠️⚠️ (but if I missed anything lmk)

"Hi, everyone! Today, I am out on the Silverstone Circuit with none other than my beautiful girlfriend, Y/n!" Lando's calming voice brought Y/n nothing but anxiety as she waved to the camera. To say she was nervous for their planned youtube video for Mclaren would be an understatement. She had lost sleep over this. Even though Lando had assured her he would keep her safe, she still couldn't shake off the weariness.

Lando smiled down at her pale face before continuing, "As requested, Y/n and I are going to be taking out onto the circuit a new Mclaren and while I drive, she will be asking me questions which I will answer." He flashed his charming smile at the lens of the camera facing them, "She may be nervous, but it's happening!" He smiled mischievously at her as he grabbed her hand and led them toward the car a few feet behind them.

When they reached the passenger seat and Lando gestured for her to get in, she froze. Standing there with her arms glued to her side and her eyes trained on the seat staring back at her, she felt Lando's presence come closer before his hands landed on her arms and his lips came to rest near her ear.

"Baby, it's going to be fun. Trust me, you know I wouldn't put you in any danger. When you get in that car, your wellbeing will be my responsibility and you know I won't jeopardize it." He whispered for only her to hear.

His words and grounding hands were able to soothe her rapidly beating heart as she took a step into the passenger side of the sports car. Looking back up at Lando, who was bent at the waist and resting his arm on the roof so he could meet her gaze, she found his big smile and a look that said he was proud of her. Leaning into the car more and crowding her space, he laid a kiss on her lips, something the crew were eager to pick up on the footage and give the fans what they wanted.

"Thank you, my love." He said against her lips, his breath fanning out around her face and making her feel warm on the inside.

He soon was pulling away and shutting her door, jogging around the car with rosy cheeks to get to his side. Once he was in, he met her eyes again and laid a hand on her thigh, giving the soft skin a firm squeeze. Before their intimate moment could go any further, Lando's assistant was knocking on Y/n's window and gesturing for them to lower it.

With the cracked window, she was handing Y/n the question cards and reminding the couple to keep it as PG-13 as possible.

"Lando, I'm looking at you. Our usual audience with you is young girls, so please don't pull what you did in the last video where you wouldn't shut up about Y/n's body." Charlotte's words made Y/n blush furiously and Lando laughed hysterically. That video had been filmed two weeks before this one and for some reason, as Carlos and Lando tried Japanese food, he couldn't stop talking about how hot he thought his girlfriend was. Carlos found it amusing as well, but the boys were scolded soon after for making the video risky to post with all the pre-teens who followed them. Nonetheless, the video went viral and everyone was fawning over how cute their favorite F1 couple was.

"I can't make any promises." His comment earned him a glare from Charlotte whose eyes alone could have sent him lying six feet under. "Okay, okay! I won't make any comments like that!" He exclaimed as he raised his hands in surrender, his palms beginning to sweat under her intense stare.

Finally, the couple was left alone to have a conversation while Lando went over 100 miles per hour. If she wasn't nervous before, Y/n was nervous now. She felt like she could puke all over the front of the car once the engine started and Lando's foot came to step on the pedal.

He started out slow, wanting to maneuver his way onto the track before fully stepping onto the gas. Once he made it to the entrance, he stole a glance at Y/n who was clearly alarmed by his hesitation.

Lando sighed as he leaned over the center console and planted a kiss on her shoulder, "We don't have to do this if you're too nervous, Y/n. Seriously, they have so many other youtube ideas to fill this one with. Darling, if you don't want to do this, we don't have to. No one's going to be upset with you."

She smiled at him as her head rested on the seat beneath her, "No, let's do it. I trust you and I know, with you, anything can be fun, even a death ride."

Lando laughed and nodded his head, retreating back to the steering wheel and putting the car in drive. Before he could give her time to go back on her answer, Lando was speeding off and reaching 80 miles per hour in seconds.

The first thing that came out of Y/n's mouth was not the questions she held in her hands, but an ear piercing scream that had Lando laughing hard.

"Y/N!" He exclaimed, "You can't scream like that!" He said through all his laughing as she braced one hand on the window and another on the roof of the car.

He heard her breathe loudly before muttering "Okay, okay" to herself and reading the first question, "What is your least favorite part about being an F1 driver?"

Lando didn't have to think twice about his answer as he rounded a corner and Y/n let out a strained, unidentifiable sound, "My least favorite part is how much it keeps me away from you. I'm always traveling and even though you can come with me sometimes, I'm still away from you more than I would like."

Even through her anxiety, Y/n's heart warmed at his words and she smiled to herself as she read the next question, "What was the first thing you noticed about me when we were first introduced to one another?"

As he went down a straight, Lando stole a suggestive glance at Y/n. The two knew exactly what his answer was considering they had talked about it multiple times over the few years they had been together. When they first met in a club with their mutual friend, Y/n had been wearing a tighter dress that showed more cleavage than she would have anticipated, and since Lando was taller than her, his first glance at her wasn't her face, but her boobs. His continuing glances throughout the night hadn't gone unnoticed by Y/n and if it wasn't for his charming personality, she would have been put off. Lando had since apologized profusely if he made her uncomfortable with his inappropriate eyes, but because of how much she loves him and the fact that he means well, she didn't take it seriously.

Meeting his gaze from the seat beside him, the couple let out a few giggles and when Lando was about to answer honestly, he remembered what Charlotte had warned him about earlier, "Your bod- um, I mean, your eyes?" His statement sounded more like a question which made Y/n keel over with laughter. However, her laughter was interrupted when Lando sped up and took a narrow left turn. With another scream and plea for Lando to slow down, Y/n asked the next question.

"What's been the best thing that came out of your F1 career?" She white-knuckled the handle on the door.

"Well, there are a few things," Another turn of the steering wheel, "Being able to work with amazing drivers has been surreal, fulfilling a lifelong dream, being able to do what I love for work, and, last but not least, meeting the people that introduced me to you."

With a quick glance, Y/n and Lando were smiling widely at each other, "Baby, you are so sweet." She said as he blushed at the pet name and praise.

At the next question, Y/n laughed, already knowing the answer to it, "Have you ever lied to get out of a work meeting or PR event or anything of that sort?"

Lando's jaw opened and closed, "Oh god, I'm going to get in so much trouble. Yes, I have." Y/n was about to speak when he beat her to it, "BUT, it was only because you were really sick and I didn't want to leave you bed-ridden for hours."

She remembered that week very vaguely considering she felt like she was knocking on death's door. She did, however, remember Lando coming into their bedroom in a full tuxedo rambling on about how he wasn't going to his event because he was too worried about her. She had been so out of it, she let him take off his suit jacket, tie, and shoes, so he could unbutton a few buttons on his white shirt and roll up his sleeves to get into bed with her. If she hadn't been so sick, she would have refused his help and sent him off to his event, but once he got under the covers and wrapped her in his arms, she couldn't allow herself to try and push him out of bed.

As he came up on the last straight, Y/n asked her last question, "If you could, what would you change about your life?"

"I would marry you." His answer came out quickly and Y/n had to make sure she heard him right as he came to a full stop in front of the crew.

Lando's nerves took over as he studied her blank expression, although they disappeared when her face broke out into that smile he loved so much.

"I would marry you too." Each of them stared at the other as they laid their heads on the back of the seat. The cameras around the car caught the couple's dazed, lovesick look, something the fans would obsess over in the coming weeks.

To be honest, neither of the two could have anticipated how viral the video would go after it was released. Millions of people viewed and shared the challenge which introduced more people to F1. The clip of Lando saying Y/n's body for what he noticed first about her was an ongoing meme that, thankfully, the fans didn't take too seriously, and the clip of Lando saying he would marry Y/n was posted by millions, saying how it called them single in multiple different languages.

The only con that came out of the video was that, because of its incredible popularity, Y/n was asked to drive in a sports car with Lando all over again.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

So I

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your casual arrangement turns a bit too serious.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

There’s a knock at the door. You huff as you don’t need to look through the peep hole to know who it is. No buzzer but he always finds a way. 

You pick up your phone and open the chat, ‘told you I’m tired.’ 

The little check mark flicks down. Read. No reply comes, only another knock on the door. 

‘Long day.’ You send another message. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

“You really want me to knock the door down?” Bucky chuckles through the wood. 

You inhale and roll yourself off the couch. You drop the phone on the square end table as you pass and drag your feet to the door. You lean on the inside and yawn as loudly as you can. 

“It’s after curfew,” you jeer. He wiggles the handle. “Go home.” 

“You’re gonna leave me out here like a stray cat? Come on. I came all the way down here,” he pleads. 

You turn your back to the door and shrug, “told you not to. Besides, not all of us have a soft spot for alley cats.” 

“Alpine is not an ally cat. Come on, I brought beer.” 

You scoff, “thought that piss didn’t do anything for ya?” 

“No, but it makes you a lot of fun.” 

You huff and push off the door. You turn and slide back the chain. You flip the lock back and open up. You arch a brow at your uninvited guested. 

“Thank you,” you trill and grab the six pack from him. He catches the door before you can swing it shut. He tuts and steps forward, pushing his elbow into the wood until you let it go. 

“Don’t play games. You know, I can tell when you’re in need of a good fucking. You don’t send any emojis.” He snaps the door shut behind him as you retreat with your prize. 

“Or maybe I was trying to get you to stop texting so I could enjoy my new toy in peace. Ever think of that. Sometimes It's about efficiency, not passion.” 

“Passion?” He scoffs as leans a hand on the wall and lifts a foot to undo his boot. 

“Probably not the right word for this,” you free a can from the plastic rings and shove the rest in the fridge. 

“You and your goddamn toys. Let me guess, this one has blue tooth.” 

“Does yours?” You strut out of the kitchen and flick his arm in passing. 

“No but it’s got all the features you need and you know it.” He taps your ass before you can elude him. 

You crack the can of beer and take a deep gulp. The TV continues to blare the reality show retrospective you’ve been feeding your time to. You flop on the couch and sigh. You suck down the grainy brew and swallow a gulp before it can escape your throat. 

Bucky looms behind the couch and grips the back. He leans over you. “How many of those until those hideous pajamas come off?” 

“Ha? What? You don’t wanna fuck me in my Spongebob jammies? They’re vintage.” 

He snorts, “you really are good a killing the mood, aren’t you?” 

“You’re a real Squidward sometimes, you know that?” You slurp another mouthful. 

“I have no idea what that is,” he says flatly as he tickles along your shoulder. 

You hate it. You hate him. Just a touch and you’re ready to go. Minutes ago, you were ready to pass out but now you’re wide awake. And fucking horny. 

“BPM going up, body temperature rising,” he runs his vibranium knuckles along your cheek and you wince away from him. 

“I hate when you do that.” You pull away and stand, plunking down the can. You huff and peel off your tank top. “I have an interview for a promotion tomorrow so hurry up.” 

“Romantic? Do you still wanna use the new toy? You know I don’t mind filling your mouth when you get like this.” 

You stick your tongue out at him and point to the bedroom. He rolls his eyes and strides off. You pause the television and take another swig of beer. You need to sleep and he’s good at fucking you into a coma. 

As you reach the bedroom, he’s already naked. His broad shoulders are etched in scars, the left one mottled with aged burns along the border of vibranium. His muscles cord down along his rib cage and sides.

A year ago, you would never expect a man like this to be standing naked in your bedroom. A super soldier. Bucky Barnes. 

He turns to you and wiggles the little square between his two fingers. The wrapped condom reflects the overhead light with its flashy packaging. He flexes his chest as you reach to undo your bra. 

“Should I pop it on now or can I get a taste first?” He asks with a flick of his tongue. 

You march to him and swipe the condom from his grasp. You jab his chest and he staggers back to the bed, his legs pressing against the frame. He teeters as he smirks down at you. 

“I’ll give you a ride, cowboy.” 

He falls back and spreads his arms wide. The bed squeaks beneath his weight. You push down your pajama pants and climb over him. You toss the mattress to the top of the bed as you raise yourself on your knees, hovering over his head as his thick hair fans out beneath.

He turns to graze his beard against your thigh. You purr and lower yourself to smother him in your cunt. He hums and laps at you eagerly. 

Mmm. This is exactly the stress relief you need. 

[wand3rlustm3]

can you do best friend txt x reader confessing love for each other with a bunch of tooth rotting fluff/smut 🙏🙏🙏 (sorry if this isn’t very detailed i’m very tired 😭) love your work btw 🫶🫶🫶

Writer's Note: Thank you so so much, anonnie <333 I love you and appreciate your kind words very, very much. I'm so sorry for my late response, I actually saved this in my drafts a long time ago and forgot to post it. I am sorry if this isn't what you asked for, if you want me to change it I will happily do so, also I will upload part 2 soon! :)

Warnings: angst :( SORRY, fluff, smut :3

CONFESSIONS OF AN ANGEL Pt 1.

Soobin

It seemed like these days you couldn't get through to him no matter what, It just didn't make sense. Why was he actively going out of his way to avoid you? You missed him, you missed his presence, you missed every ounce of him because being with him became a habit. It was to the point where your other friends kept asking you where he is, and you were tired of answering with the same, "he seems like he got busy"—a blatant lie to keep others assuming that your best friend is not even your friend anymore.

Soobin seemed to find any and every excuse, but it wasn't because he hated you. It was because of the very opposite, he knew that if he was around you for any longer, he simply couldn't take it. He'd have to confess to you that his feelings are much deeper than the feelings a person should feel toward their best friend, and he didn't want to ruin what he already had with you. In that fear, he'd coop up in his apartment and scratch his head at the many questions dabbling in his head. What if you didn't love him back? What if you'd be disgusted at his advances and find him creepy? What if— just too many "what ifs".

So at this point, you had to take matters into your own hands and angrily drag yourself to the doorstep of his apartment demanding an explanation. You were not letting him off so easily, there was no way that you'd let someone like him go without an explanation. So logically, you knock on the door multiple times, but since he doesn't open it, you speak through the door.

"Soobin, open the door. I need to talk to you right now. I don't know what's happened between us but you need to explain to me if I did anything wrong since the past two weeks you've been ignoring me. You haven't responded to a single message I've sent you, you haven't even been taking care of our cute little digital pet, you haven't even reached out once or at least told me what happened. Not only am I worried about you, but I'm scared that I'll lose you..." you spoke with a strong tone, but your voice cracked at the end and Soobin could just tell that you were going to cry.

"Y/n—please, go home." Soobin attempted to respond in a monotone voice, but you heard his voice shake as well.

Hot tears begin to roll down your face at his response. "Am I that terrible—? A- am I that terrible that you won't even say goodbye?" You stutter and speak through your light sob.

In that moment, Soobin can't control himself anymore. He pulls the door open as fast as he can and he pulls you into the tightest embrace. His strong arms wrap around you almost as if you'd slip away any moment, and he only lets go of you to put a hand over your chin to tilt your face upwards to him. "Y/n, it's actually the complete opposite. I'm so sorry, I'm an absolute idiot, aren't I? I didn't avoid you because I hated you, I've been avoiding you because—well, because I love you more than a best friend, I want to spend the rest of my life with you but I was scared that I'd lose everything I already had with you. So please, just....don't leave me y/n." His voice was shaking and there were tears rolling down his face.

You gently hit him in the chest and cry into the nook of his shoulder. There could be no better situation for you than for him to be in love with you, someone as perfect as him and kind could only be seen in fictional settings.

You speak as you sniffle, "Soobin, I love you too."

So the next thing you feel is his large hands gently cupping your cheeks as he leans down into you for a kiss. It's salty and sweet because of the tears that you taste on him, and you don't let go. It's almost as if your lips were made to mold together, as if your entire life—this is where you were supposed to end up, in his arms.

"I need to make you mine, please y/n?" Soobin breathed out as the bulge in his jeans became more evident as he grinded against you. His sexual frustration had been evident from his feelings being pent up for so long.

"Please take me, Soobin. I've been yours all along." You softly smile at him as you peer up at him. He makes you wrap your legs around his waist as he pushes you to the nearest wall, kissing down your neck as he deftly removes each piece of clothing of yours. He gently puts you on the ground only as he removes the last piece of clothing he has, until you're wrapped around his waist once again.

"You're soaking wet for me, y/n. A- ahhh, feels like—fuuuuck....feels like you were made for me." Soobin moans out as he dives his cock into you.

"Nnghhhh...soob please— I'm so close..."

"I'm—I am close as well...Cum with me y/n. Please baby, please do it for me. I love you, I love you so much, can't mmmh- can't live without you y/n..." Soobin almost begs you as he holds you so tight.

You're unable to register when it happened, but all you could see was white as you came all over his cock. His cum dripped out of you and down his cock as he was still inside. The warm spurts of his cum filling you up as his hips stutter and buck into you.

"You know that I can't live without you either, Soobin." You say as you kiss him once again.

Yeonjun

You had always known that your best friend was popular with girls since whenever you'd go around with him, you'd notice the nasty stares the girls would give you even more than usual.

There was an abundance of whispers that were intentionally loud enough for you to hear implying that you weren't good enough to be with him, and even more who would silently judge you. But, you'd brush it off since you were his best friend anyways. It had absolutely nothing to do with you, and could bother you less, but you had Yeonjun by your side and there's nothing more you could ask for. He was available at every call and beckon of yours, and neither of you questioned it. It was almost like it came to him naturally.

What you'd not understand is why so many people thought you were a couple when you were simply best friends. If only you'd have noticed the glimmer in his eyes and how they'd soften each time they landed upon your beautiful features. How his fingers would wrap around yours tighter when you'd walk across the crosswalk, or simply the change in his expression when he'd notice other men staring at you. Yeonjun realized that you're absolutely clueless to his feelings, despite thinking that he made it obvious.

Regardless, when you go to your favorite café to pick up your order, you suggest a way to pass the time quicker.

"Junnie, Let's have a staring contest! Winner gets to bake something and loser gets to wash the dishes, okay?" You speak in an excited tone, he wishes to express how he loves when your voice goes up a few decibels simply because of how excited you are, but he sticks with giving you a pretty smile of adoration instead.

"Okay y/n—1, 2.....3, start." He gently speaks as he intertwines his hands with yours and looks into your eyes. The both of you not blinking as you sit quietly in the middle of the café, easily being mistaken for a couple by any passerby once again. But, Yeonjun gets an idea to kill two birds with one stone. His expression softens even further, as he pulls the back of your hand to your lips and gives it a kiss.

"You drive me crazy, y/n." Yeonjun says.

And somehow, you start blinking to piece together what he means. He's told you he loves you before but not like this, he's kissed the back of your wrist lovingly, but not like this.

"W- what, what do you mean junnie?" You stumble over your words out of curiosity and shock.

"I mean it. I love you y/n, I want you to be the woman I wake up to every morning. I can't keep hiding my feelings for you anymore, I have to come clean and tell you the truth. I don't know how—but you never notice the smile on my face whenever someone asks if we're dating fade as you quickly call me your best friend. It's almost as if it's a horrible reality check, and I can't keep living like this. I want you to be my woman, I want you to be proud when you're walking with me on the street. And, more importantly, I need you." Yeonjun softly speaks to you as if every word of his was coated in honey, sweet and soothing.

The ride back to your home was extremely quiet and Yeonjun was as patient as he could be with you who were still shy from his confession. You hadn't uttered a word from that moment, and your face was hot to touch. After you got home, Yeonjun was afraid that he might have made the wrong move by confessing to you so suddenly. He didn't want to push you away. So, he slowly opened the door to peer into your room to ask if you're okay and apologize if it was out of line of him to say what he said.

"Y/n? Is everything okay? Did I make you uncomfortable?" He spoke with his signature pout on his plush lips in a sulky tone as he sat down onto your bed.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, I mean— junnie, it's just that I'm shocked—b- but in a good way! I d- didn't think y- you meant it in that way—" You stutter and the words stick to your tongue as if they're afraid to come out. But, Yeonjun's attentive eyes that have studied your expressions for so long know exactly what you're trying to say.

"Y/n, can i kiss you?" Yeonjun politely asks with the cutest smile on his face.

You simply nod yes, and that's enough for his lips to be on yours. As his lips slot right into yours, he drinks the taste of you in as if you were the most expensive and rare bottle of alcohol, he gets drunk off of you fast and can't seem to get enough. "Y/n....fuck. I've been waiting so long to tell you, I can't seem to get enough of you mmmh..." He speaks between his kisses.

"Junnie...please..." You say as you squeeze your thighs together now that he's hovering above you. "My baby wants me to take care of her? I've got you my love." Yeonjun knows all of your sensitive spots as he kisses them, making you feel a way only he can. Something so special behind each kiss he leaves behind, every kiss different from the previous. Yeonjun slowly lifts the hem of your shirt and looks into your eyes to check if there's any signs of hesitation, only taking it off when he knows you really want him as well.

Once all of your clothes are off, Yeonjun places you in his lap straddling him. His belt undone as he lifts his hips to rid himself of the confinement that are his stiff jeans, giving his boner no place to breathe. You drip onto his cock as he splits you apart with his hands tightly gripping your hips, slowly moving you up and down on him. "Mmmh—junnie...can't take it anymore!" You plead, and Yeonjun understands as he speeds up and bucks into you to match the way your hips move on him.

"Fuck baby—m' all yours...give it to me. Give me everything, you're mine—nnngh!" Yeonjun grunts as he spills into you, and you feel fuller than ever. You remain in his lap even as you shake in his embrace, so safe and so happy. And most importantly, you're all his, and he's all yours.

Beomgyu

Beomgyu and you had a lot of history, I mean, you basically knew him your whole life. If anything, you've memorized every expression, every tinge of emotion, every sarcastic comment, and most of all, his way of being himself. You couldn't tell if it was your intuition or what, but you felt as if something had shifted between you and Beomgyu. It wasn't that he was acting any differently— he was still beating you at every single game you played with that classic cocky smirk on his face, he was making you laugh just as much, and everything was the same. You brush it off as simply overthinking and change the topic, "Gyu! Give me your controller, the player one title is putting you at an advantage!!!".

"What if I said sitting next to you is already putting me at a disadvantage?" Beomgyu looked into your eyes and said it in his usual tone, so why did it make you so sad? It made no sense.

"W- What do you mean, gyu? Do you want me to sit somewhere else? I can g-" You sulk and say as you shift away from him on the loveseat you sat on, until you feel a warm hand gently but firmly grasp your wrist. With the stern look on his face, tears threaten to spill from your glistening eyes. "Gyu— please...I'm sorry for being annoying, I'm sorry for sitting next to you and being so loud, I'm sorry for being annoying, I'm sorry—"

"Y/n, no— that's not what I– just please stop crying, baby"

The silence in the room was so thick that you could almost hear your teardrop fall down your face. Did he just call you baby? Were you hearing things now? Beomgyu mentally cursed himself multiple times because, firstly, he made you cry. Secondly, he just accidentally (on purpose) called you baby.

"G- Gyu? D- Did you just—" You ask until your words are cut off by the feeling of Beomgyu's lips on yours. They're so soft and you forget why you were crying. You believe that if heaven had a feeling, it would feel something like this. Beomgyu reluctantly pulls back to finally tell you what he's wanted to for years now.

"You always talk too much, think too much, and jump to conclusions. why can't you just listen for once? I said it's a disadvantage to sit next to you because I can't focus on the TV screen, your eyes suck me in like some black hole and i just can't look away from all of those cute expressions you always make when you can't win against me. And, it's not even that, I lose my mind each time you call me by my nickname. You don't even know what you do to me." Beomgyu's hand lightly snakes up the side of your face as he wipes your tears away with his thumb. "Please stop torturing me, I need you to be mine."

You give him the same smile you did when you both first met long ago, and he swears that he feels exactly the same he did, he never seemed to get used to how it seemed like you were made for him. "Then why did you not give me a hug properly earlier? I've been thinking you're angry at me." You speak between sniffles.

"It's because I can't stand it when your body is pressed against mine, It physically hurts to feel how warm and soft you are and not be able to have all of you." Beomgyu spoke in a serious tone while looking into your eyes hazily. You felt horrible now, because you now realize why he always has a pillow on his lap when he comes over.

"Gyu m' sorry, let me make it up to you", with the cutest look in your eyes, you drop to your knees and get on the ground in front of the loveseat. It wasn't out of guilt or pressure, you just felt pathetic because you knew how frustrating it was to try to get yourself off after he left as you moaned out his name. "Y/n...." Beomgyu sighed.

As you sit eye level with his hips, you realize how bad it was for him, only making you move faster as you unzip his pants and pull out his leaking cock from the confines of his underwear. Your hand strokes him a few times as he lets out whiney moans while you continue your ministrations. "Ahhhh y/n mmh, fuck" Beomgyu moans out as you take him into your mouth as your tongue traces the veins on his cock as if to memorize those as well.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck. Oh my god. My fucking woman, my goooood, my pretty baby...hah—gonna fuckin cum. Take every last drop.....take it. take it. take it fuuuuuckkkk." His hands lace into your hair, somehow using the last bit of self control he has left to not start fucking into your throat. You continue bobbing your head as you suck him dry and swallow every single drop. Beomgyu's mind foggy, but only with the idea of how he's going to make sure you know how many feelings he's been holding to be exact.

"I'm going to show you just what you mean to me, baby."

-

\(>_<)/ ty for reading

[wisteria-cherry]

heyaa

saw you were on the lookout for a marauders x reader fic request? well, here is your savior 😌 (also if you write it you'll be my savior so it's an all win situation right?)

how about a Remus x reader, where they're kinda wandering around outside the castle during winter (snow gazing date, is that a thing?) and although reader is already wearing remus' woolen sweater and we'll equiped for snow, they (or she, or he, whatever you prefer writing with) are freezing and so they cling to Remus and like he takes their hands to put them in his pockets and stuff...and yeah it's all fluffy and cute and warm

is that clear lol ?

anyways byeeeeee

omg my savior🙏🙏🙏 she’s a little short, hope that’s okay..!

warning: tooth-rotting fluff

“it’s beautiful.” you remark as you walk side-by-side with remus, gazing at the snowfall from your favorite overpass at hogwarts— a beautiful wooden pathway, with a roof to protect from harsher weather such as this.

“dare i say not as beautiful as you?” remus glanced down at you, bundled up in his ever-cozy wool sweater, and cracked a smile.

“if i didn’t know better, rem, i’d say you were hitting on me.”

“let’s not be presumptuous, now.” remus looked out at the snow. “i’ll blush.”

“your cheeks are already pink.” you retort.

“that’s because it’s cold, love.” he looked back at you with honey-colored eyes. it was a crime, really, to have such beautiful eyes. surely you must be a criminal, then, to have fallen for such eyes. “yours are much redder.”

“because i’m cold.” you huff.

“that had better be satire, that’s my best jumper you’ve got there.”

“you told me i could wear it.”

“that i did.” remus agreed. remus stopped in his steps, leading you to stop as well, and he turned to lean against the banister. he lifted his arm up. “c’mere.”

you gratefully tuck yourself under his arm, pressing yourself against remus, who, despite the cold, was incredibly warm. maybe he was hiding the possibility that his actual best jumper was the one he was wearing right now. remus’ arm settled around you, hugging you close. he gently kissed the top of your head, much to your delight.

“pretty thing.” he murmured against your hair.

“cold thing.” you hum in response. despite the addition of remus’ body heat, you were still shivering, and your ears were still bright red.

“can’t have that, now can we?” remus replied. you feel his arm move from its position around you, the wool from his and your (technically also his) jumper sleeves rustling. his hand takes yours, and he faces you, using your hand to guide you to do the same. his other hand finds your other hand, and he studies them, as if admiring a work of art.

“didn’t i tell you to wear gloves?” he inquired, raising a questioning eyebrow as he looked at your red knuckles.

“maybe.”

“what am i going to do with you?” he tutted, taking your hands and moving them behind him, sliding them into his back pockets. you look up at him earnestly; he was truly the sweetest boy you’d ever met. in that moment, you were sure you’d never fall in love with anyone else ever again.

“come on, now, you.” remus released your hands, and now wrapped his arms around you, bringing you into a hug you wished would last forever. you rested your cheek on his chest, and he rested his chin on the top of your head. the both of you continued to look out at the scenery. fluffy snowflakes fell lazily from the sky and landed on the powdery wonderland that hogwarts became each winter.

“i used to hate winter.” remus admitted, not once taking his gaze away from the view.

“really?”

“yeah.” remus confirms. “i thought that all winter did was hinder people, and track snow in the house, which would then melt and get everything damp.”

“pessimist.” you accuse lightheartedly.

“realist.” remus corrected. “besides, that’s changed.”

“has it?”

“it has.” remus confirmed. “i started liking it when i saw how much you liked it.”

“really?” you felt your heart flutter. this was easily one of your favorite sides of remus— the romantic side. more often than not, he hardly even realized he was being romantic; in his eyes, he was just stating the truth. but there was something so incredibly beautiful about the way he worded each truth that you just wanted to give him the world in exchange for one more.

“really.” he confirmed.

“hey.”

“hm?”

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

[januaryembrs]

THE LION'S SHARE OF WARMTH | Jaime Lannister x reader

Request: ay!! heres to 1k!! :DD can I please have a Jaime Lannister x reader, where the nights too cold to sleep alone even in front of a fire, forcing them to cuddle to keep warm?

Description: A cold night between two enemies leads to an embarrassing wake up call.

word count: 1.1k

trigger warnings: none, swearing? Mention of the war going on ?

main masterlist

For a girl born into the North, there was nothing you hated more than the cold. Your mother said you had just never grown accustomed to the climate, always insisting on the thickest pelts to cover your bed despite the fact your family had lived through the thickest Winters spanning back generations. 

Which is why you swore all twenty of your fingers and toes were damn near ready to fall off when you were forced to sleep outside on the road to King’s Landing. Call it being spoiled by coming from a respectable lord’s family, but had you not had a good reason to be here, you would be long gone and in front of a roaring fire by now on a night like this. 

That respectable lord just so happened to be Wyman Manderly. Your house had fallen to near mania the moment the war of the five kings began, and you had fled to Robb and Catelyn Stark with your twin brothers Wylis and Wendel. The Starks and the Manderlys had always been closely allied, and as all Northern houses you had grown closely knit with the great Wolf house. 

Which was why when Jaime Lannister appeared in a cage on the Stark encampment, bloodied and dirtier than you’d ever seen the once proud lion, you knew Catelyn Stark was fighting with every tooth and nail to get Sansa and Arya back from the capital.

And who better to send to bargain for the two girls than Brienne of Tarth, the strongest swords woman in Westeros, and Y/N Manderly, daughter of the richest Northern family. Since you already had money of your own and your family was incredibly loyal to the Starks, Catelyn and Robb agreed you were unlikely to be swayed by anything Cersei could offer you and could discuss an offer with the Lannisters like the astute and academic woman you were.

Which is how you got here, on a narrow and freezing road to the capital with Brienne and Jaime Lannister.

“My legs tire, we need to rest soon,” Jaime whinged for the umpteenth time that day as you and Brienne carted him in chains through the rough terrain. Well Brienne held the irons, seeing as she could overpower the man if needs be, while you had little more than a dagger to fend him off. 

You shot a look at the tall woman, the two of you mirroring each other with a glare of annoyance at his theatrics. You ignored him, continuing your steady pace onwards. The Lannister man seemed to be unused to people, especially women, not pouring over him with affection and lavishing him with whatever he requested since he began digging his heels into the earth like a lame mule.

“I said we need rest. Do you really think my sister will take kindly to me being returned to her as a cripple?” Jaime complained, yanking against the bonds to get your attention. You wished to disregard him some more until he said: “If I am to be exchanged for the girls and I come home bruised and deformed, what do you think she’ll do to Sansa and Arya?” 

You and Brienne halted. You hadn’t quite thought about treating him kindly since it was his forsaken family that had started this war in the first place. 

You looked to Brienne for assurance, the Tarth woman giving you a small nod in response. The two of you spun to advance on the man who wore an annoyingly winning smile at the fact he had gotten you both to listen. 

“We are stopping until the moment the day breaks, do you hear?” You growled at him, only making his cracked lips draw wider. “And wipe that smirk of your face, there will be no fire tonight,”

Gods be known you were so stupid to have said that. In punishing him you had punished yourself. Brienne didn’t seem to mind the frosty night air as she bundled up under her furs, sleeping soundly as if it were another night in a bed. 

“A Northern woman who feels the cold, that’s new,” Jaime snickered from his place behind you. Your body must have been shaking more than you’d hoped. You felt the night air kiss every inch of your skin as the wind whipped even the slightest bit and it sent a vicious shiver through your body.

“Shut up or I’ll maim you, Lannister,” You both knew it was an empty threat, one you’d barely made through without your teeth chattering loudly. It only served to make him chuckle, and you heard him shuffle closer to you. 

Drawing your blade, you were quick to raise the sharp tip to prod against the soft of his stomach. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You seethed.

“Relax. You’re clearly cold, and Cersei would have both your heads if I returned to King’s Landing with the shivering sickness,” Jaime said, attempting to slip an arm around your waist that you swiftly batted away with your arm.

“I’d rather risk your bitch of a sister than be anywhere near you,” You spat, raising the dagger up to his chin, “If you dare touch me in my sleep I’ll send you back to her in pieces, do you understand?” 

He raised his hands in defence, rolling back away from you and muttering something foul under his breath. You could tell his confidence was knocked that the Jaime Lannister couldn’t have his way with every woman he came across. Any other woman in Westeros would give an arm and leg to cuddle with him for warmth, any woman but you. 

You closed your eyes, the flame of anger enough to ward off the chill for just long enough that you were able to get to sleep on wrath alone. 

Your face blazed with similar heat when you awoke to the feeling of strong laughter humming through a set of ribs. You realised very quickly that your face was not pressed into the dirt like it was when you fell asleep last night but instead against someone's clothed spine. 

“I thought you said I’d be in pieces by now?” Came a raspy voice, and you shoved yourself upright aghast. Not only were you spooning the damn king’s guard whose very soul you loathed, but in no way could you blame him for it happening seeing as it was him facing away from you.

Your cold body had sought him out for warmth in your sleep.

“Embarrass-”

“That’s ENOUGH, Lannister,”

[thefoolishone666]

Today's little fact about Smiling Sona, is going to about what makes life worth living...Pain and suffering. I am about to go over what the critters will say is the worst injury they have ever had...not as many shadow related injuries as one would think.

Catnap: Injury...Injury...Oh! Recently my lab partner made a bet with me to see who can withstand one of the bunson burners longer on their hands. He ended up lasting 3 seconds or so...So I had destroy his confidence. I ended up lasting 15 seconds and become slightly richer, so who is the fool now!? (Bubba, in the background: Still you.)

Bobby, after a LONG pause:...Oh! Sorry for taking awhile there to answer, I am not exactly one to gain too many injuries, perks of having a silver spoon I guess. I think the moment I would say is the worst would be the time someone stabbed my hand. They were asking for money and I...Didn't have any at the time to give. Shame, really miss that friend...

Kickin: Ha! I will do you one better. I can name both mine AND Hoppy's! We were very heated about... something, don't remember, and ended up fighting. We were away from the responsible folks, so we REALLY went into each in the fight, broke her nose, she gave me a shinner, I knocked a tooth out if I remember right, but the worst things we got from that fight was that I broke her jaw, and she broke my arm before we were pulled apart and the ambulance was called. We were stubborn about the injuries, and we actually tried walking away from the medical professionals... Then the adrenaline wore off.

Hoppy: I can vouch for all of that. Still surprised that was your choice and not something from a gang fight...

Crafty:...Can we change the subject? (While not technically an injury, it still is a scar in her mind. When she was very young, she had to go to the hospital for something serious. She was heavily convinced she was going to die. The reason why it stands out in her mind was that she was in there for days and not a word was heard from Kickin and Hoppy, and she was fairly convinced she was going to die without either knowing. Which, kinda snowballed into her feeling like she needed a legacy thing with her shadow. Not the full story of course, but still.)

Bubba:...That shadow me may have made good inquiries and points, but I will NEVER forgive him for what he did to my ribs...If I can speak without perjury in my words, I sometimes still feel it whenever I do alot of activities, like in Physical Education. I know it is just a hallucination made up in my imagination, but...I sometimes wonder what would have happened if Picky didn't stick up for me...

Picky: Can I cheat and say two? My first thought was the time ma skull cracked more then Bubba when he watches a funny movie. My brother and I were tossing hourse shoes and I had got a bit too into it and threw my horse shoe in anger into the air when he was winning...What were the words Bubba used when he learned that again? "How you survived when we stopped talking is a question I am not going to figure anytime soon." The second I can think of was when we were fighting those darn shadows. Bubba hates me bringing it up, but simply put, me and Bubba were separated from everyone else and a shadow snuck up on us when we got careless...I wouldn't want to lose him again. That is how I will finish that story.

Dogday, opening shirt to show scar: Less said about what happened, the better.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

~*~

1. hello! i am searching for a fic where su she pretends to be lwj to trick wwx? i believe he traps lwj in a closet at one point. please help!

FOUND? seeds by antebunny (G, 3k, WangXian, SS & LWJ, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Identity Porn, Dramatic Irony, identity theft, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, the Inherent Romance of Being Known, BAMF WWX, protective boyfriend!wwx, simp!lwj)

~*~

2. Hi, this is about the last anon ask y'all shared. The one about the missing fic 2 no 31. I think i was searching for the same fic. I remember a one shot where LXC and LWJ were going for food or coffee and they saw XXC and WWX on the sidewalk, and LWJ was jealous of how much WWX was touching XXC as they walked until he realized WWX was guiding him bc he was blind.

If it isn't the same, I would appreciate y'all helping me find it. Thanks for your wonderful work for the fandom!

FOUND? A sip of vinegar by Aki_no_hikari (G, 1k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pining, One-Sided Attraction, or so lwj thinks)

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3. Hey, I’m looking for a post-canon fic where there’s an assassination attempt on WWX with poison and LWJ is super protective and has to find the culprit. Thanks so much!

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4. Hi! Love the blog so much!!! Do you remember the name of the fic (from LWJ POV) where LWJ is in the airport on a dating app and swipes away from WWX who is (coincidentally) sat next to him and remarks on it? TIA xxx

FOUND? Ticket to Ride by mistresscurvy (E, 18k, wangxian, modern, online dating, road trips, service top, phone sex, dick pics, wedding banquet)

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5. Hey, I hope you guys are doing well. Please help me find this fic ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

So I just remember a tiny part of it :

WWX is accused of giving away war intel to the Wen by YZY in front of everyone. She pulls out some letters i think? Then to help the former, NHS brings in a handwriting specialist and it turns out to be YZY who wrote the letters. @utxqia

FOUND? Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not YZY Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing)

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6. Hi, I hope you can help me find a fic! It's an abo one I think, where teen wwx is pregnant. The story is LQR pov where he overhears WWX tell LWJ and is really supportive! I think WWX was kicked out my Madam Yu, but I'm not sure?

FOUND? In which Lan Qiren eavesdrops and gets a new nephew (and grandnephew) out of it by h0peless_oblivion (M, 64k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, High School, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Mpreg, Teen Pregnancy, Shotgun Wedding, Good Uncle LQR, Madam Yu's A+ Parenting, Fluff and Angst, Family Feels, Unspecified Setting, Probably ooc, WWX Has ADHD, A-Yuan is Wangxian's son, Pregnant WWX, Humor, non-graphic birth, Family Drama, The Lans love wwx, Male Lactation, Mild Smut in later chapters, wangxian's canonical breeding kink, Tooth-Rotting Fluff)

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7. hello, i hope you're well. i love your blog and i read it often and now I have an ask to make ;) Do you happen to know a fic where WWX and LWY "pretend to visit a women in sleep and make them pregnant" in order to explain unwanted pregnancies and save a women's honor?

It is a crack fic but it has a lot of heart.

I read it maybe a couple of months ago, but i cannot find it anymore. I hope it's not deleted.

💕 谢谢，再见 @amrame​

FOUND! Taking Responsibility by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 6k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Getting Together, Trope Subversion/Inversion, Pretend mpreg, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Fluff and Crack)

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8. I want to know ff name in which wei Ying is a female and he is going to live with male lan wangi, as he is her sister friend. In ff there is a line like " i am a man Wei Ying ". @yizhan12

FOUND? tell me what’s your motive by sweetlolixo (E, 7k, wangxian, modern, fem WWX, smut, size difference, older LWJ)

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9. hiii~! hope u all are having wonderful days! I'm looking for a fic that i think is cql centric? Anyways it's one where wwx and lwj start cultivating together? Like there are multiple scenes that suggest that they try to combine using cultivation. If that's too vague as a description there's this one scene where lan wangji finds his mother's letters and how she kills herself (?) and goes missing in the nighttime?

Sorry for the vagueness... it's been so long since i read it! 😅

FOUND! ❤️ Gentians in bloom by teawater (M, 251k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, AU after cold spring, Political Marriage, Dysfunctional Family, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, LQR bashing (not really), POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Eventual Happy Ending, BAMF WWX, JC is actually a lot better than canon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, YZY bashing (again not completely) )

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10. Hello hello! I really want to read this fic again and I’ve given up on searching for it. It’s post-cql and a very fluffy fic. Wwx and Lwj share hazelnut cakes. They roam in Caiyi and meet a vendor lady selling combs and she tries to matchmake Wwx and her daughter. She tells them that they should buy combs for their beloved and I'm pretty sure Lwj was considering buying a comb. Please help! This has been bugging me quite a lot. Thank you and have a great day!

FOUND? I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner (M, 28k, wangxian, post-canon, getting together, love letters, hurt/comfort, cuddling & snuggling, literal sleeping together, intimacy, first time)

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11. Hello mods, looking for this awesome AU I was reading where Wen Xu takes LWJ as his warprize at CR and makes him go through some horrible things. WWX tries to help him at the Wen lectures and LWJ refuses but they kind of get together after fighting the Tortoise. but then Wen Chao attacks the Jiangs and captures WWX. LWJ is NOT a courtesan and WWX isn't either, and the Wens don't have a whole harem or anything.

tysm for your help, been looking all over and I rly want to finish reading!!!

NOT FOUND! tarnish, lustre, gold by iliacquer (E, 22k, wangxian, LWJ/WX, graphic depictions of violence, rape/non-con, ABO, mpreg, forced marriage, forced/coerced pregnancy, infidelity, alpha WWX, omega LWJ, alpha WX, bottom LWJ, reproductive coercion, mating cycles/in heat, knotting, YLLZ WWX, domestic violence, whump, misgendering, happy ending)

FOUND! 忍辱负重 | to bear the burden of humiliation by dragongirlG (E, 106k, wangxian, LWJ/WX, WWX/other(s), WWX/WC, graphic depictions of violence, rape/non-con, sexual slavery, domestic violence, wen indoctrination, xuanwu cave, prisoner of war, warprize, humiliation, non-con bondage, non-con body modification, golden core destruction/melting, dual cultivation, revenge, whump, hurt little comfort, protective LWJ & WWX, hopeful ending)

~*~

12. Hello, I'm looking for two specific fanfics.

A) The first one is about WangXian having an arranged marriage and Wei Ying in the beginning tries to get along with Lan Zhan but then when he notices that he's not very responsive he ends up being kind of like cold to him but in the end they do realize that they love each other also Wei Ying is mostly a stay at home husband and there are no original characters in this one. I'm pretty sure it has multiple chapters but I may be wrong.

B) The second one is a case fic one where WangXian go to this town where apparently the Yiling laozu is terrorizing but it turns out to be Jin Zixuns son who he himself has possessed and they solve it. The juniors were in there I think at least I remember Jin Ling was. Thank you so much in advance! @amaraxoxo98​

12A)

FOUND? A Marriage Story by DeviyudeThoolika (E, 38k, WangXian, Sex is complicated, Angst, Pining while fucking, Mature elements., Mutual Pining, Arranged Marriage, Sort Of, Misunderstandings, of epic proportions)

12B)

FOUND? Don't Turn Your Heart by sami (T, 29k, wangxian, WQ/JC/LXC, JYL/JZX, XY/MXY, hurt/comfort, family, shenanigans, some violence)

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13. For your next fic finder... I've suddenly remembered this elusive fic. I'm pretty sure it was a canon era BDSM AU (in that people have inherent dom/sub dynamics), and WWX was a sub that had been raised/socialized as a dom by the Jiang sect. The fic was set during the CR study arc, and IIRC something happened in the library that caused WWX to drop hard, revealing the truth to everybody. It's not The Hilt Lies Well In Hand by HeavenlySkyfarer, or A Gesture of Companionship by Khashana. Help?

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14. Helloo I would like to request to find this fic in which I remember there was wei wuxian who had owned a diner? And it was like open until the wee hours of morning. I think he also had some eating problems? And sleeping problems? I also remember that he had cut contact with everyone except wen qing and wen ning who he had met after he moved away... I'm pretty sure lan zhan finds him first but the memory is a bit hazy since I haven't read it in a long time and I can't find it anymore 😭.

FOUND? ❤️ 不晚 | a lovely light by seagaze (T, 62k, wangxian, modern, midnight diner au, CW for eating and sleeping disorders, happy ending)

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15. Hi I was wondering if you could please help me find a fic? Basically the story starts off as this shadow always hunting wy so the whole Jiang dynamics changes as their protective of wy, later on come to find out that shadow following wy is his future self trying to kill him so he doesn’t “ruin the jiangs” or something along those lines, hoping u can help me as I’ve been trying so long to find this fic again 😭

FOUND? Beyond the Darkness by ULTIOcean (T, 73k, WangXian, WWX-centric, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, Oblivious WWX, A sprinkle of horror here and there, injuries, Blood, Canon Divergence, Different Beginnings, OOC for some characters, Mainly WWX JC and JZX, Follows the Donghua's events, Mystery, Copious amounts of affection, jc's dogs, Time Skips, WWX POV)

FOUND? Building a home by R95irth (T, 586k, CSSR/WCZ, JFM/YZY, wangxian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, 3zun, BSSR/LY, MS/Sisi, canon divergence, time travel fix-it, everyone lives au, angst w happy ending, horror, nightmares, family fluff, found family, babies)

~*~

16. Hi, for the next fic finder I need help finding 2 fics that I read on AO3. A) During the first siege Wei Ying uses the Soul Summoning Ritual to bring back Jiang Yanli's soul in his body and the Yanli runs to Jiang Cheng and says something like "A-Cheng it's me.". B) During the Wen Settlement days one morning Wen Qing walks into Wei Ying’s cave and finds him dead on his bed. I think he died due to an illness and Wen Qing wasn't suprised to find him dead. Thank you for your help. @bluekittenfire

16A)

FOUND! A Final Sacrifice by FrozenHawFlakes (T, <1k, major character death, Angst, Protective Siblings, Family Feels, family love, everything is worse off for everyone, except maybe JL, but he has another set of problems, What-If, Canon Divergence)

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17. Hi, could you possibly help me find a Lan Wangji x Wei Wuxian fanfiction? I had read it, but now that I am trying to look for it, I can't find it anymore. It was in a modern setting. Wangxian were already married but had many misunderstandings. Wuxian believed that Lan Wangji was in love with someone else named 'William Williamson'. Other characters that appeared were Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren, Nie Huaisang, Jiang Cheng. Lan Xichen had a whole thing going on with his relation issues too. Thank you.

FOUND? A Marriage Story by DeviyudeThoolika (E, 38k, WangXian, Sex is complicated, Angst, Pining while fucking, Mature elements., Mutual Pining, Arranged Marriage, Sort Of, Misunderstandings, of epic proportions)

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18. I can't find a fic where Wei Ying died at canon and woke up from coma in modern world where everyone is alive and good. And they think Wei Ying is dreaming. Wei Ying is also confused. Everyone is good even madam yu and fengmin. And he's also lan zhans husband there. Thank u

~*~

19. Hello! I'm trying to find a fic that I read a little while ago. wwx is a dm and is writing a chinese inspired homebrew campaign and lwj is a publisher. wwx has a fox spirit npc and adds a dragonji character when he starts to fall in love with lwj. The story ends with lwj helping wwx to publish his system. Thanks! @worlds-of-else​

FOUND? 🧡 Where’s Your Emergency? by trippednfell (M, 64k, WangXian, 911 Dispatcher WWX, Single dad LWJ, Kid fic, Modern AU, D&D Games, Angst with a happy ending)

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20. hii!!!! im looking for a fic in which wwx is badly hurt, and the lan doctor tells him that the only way he can survive is through dual cultivation. lwj immediately goes to do the deed because he can't stand wwx in pain. they get together in the end! but it has a little of angst! their first time is a little sad because wwx is very hurt but they love each other a lot and get quicly together! thank you

FOUND? as amber of ember glows by occultings (microcomets) (E, 11k, WangXian, Sex Pollen, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, First Time, Miscommunication, Aphrodisiacs, pining for the person you're fucking, Getting Together, mostly) sounds like one of occulting's fics, maybe 'as amber of ember glows' but there are several along this line so I can't be certain?

~*~

[galar-abortion-clinic]

Hihihi so I am half awake so liiiiiike for the emoji asks

Jules: 🌨️ ☕️🧠

Screwis: 👁❗️🦷

AND FOR MY WILD CARD, RUFUS: 💝✨️🐰

And uuuuuh lemme toss in a random one that you can answer for anyone: 🧁

I am so overtired it's almost 11 goodnight ily k bye <3

YIPPEE thanx for the free Ramble Out To The Void About Your OCs ticket baby, love you (👉 ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)👉

Jules:

🌨️ - If this oc had a day free from all their responsibilities, how would they spend it?

His first impulse would be going around pestering others to entertain himself lmao he’s a social creature through and through, BUT he could easily get lost in a project and spend the whole day tinkering by himself with spare parts. He has yet to actually invent anything that works but it’s only a matter of time before that changes, right?

☕ - What is their preferred beverage(s)?

A beverage is like, any *non-water* drink, right? My man’s got a fierce sweet tooth, he could get down with just about any tongue-stingingly sugary drink indiscriminately, but i think he’s best out of all my ocs about staying hydrated. He’s got one of those water bottles marathon runners use. Yknow the ones with a mist feature that he constantly sprays himself with by accident. Also enjoys sparkling water cos IT TASTES LIKE 1,200 VOLTS!!!

🧠 - What is their stress response: fight, flight, freeze, or fawn?

Always defaults to fawn, he hates conflict terribly and doesn’t want anyone to come away from a situation with hurt feelings. He’s not a doormat, just wants to be fair to all parties and (foolishly) assumes the best of everyone. If pushed, though, or if someone he cares about is put on the spot, he’ll fight. Would prefer not to tho, and he’d be pretty sad it got to that point

Screwis:

👁️ - How do other people perceive this oc? How close do their first assumptions come to the truth?

At first blush he’s got that distinct ~tall dark and handsome badboy~ vibe that isn’t entirely a mischaracterization, but also doesnt even begin to cover it. People start off drawn to his charm and rebellious nature only to realize he’s a juvenile clown who uses the ol hand buzzer gag when he gets to second base. Hes genuinely unhinged in the unsexiest way, just wait til he gets old n’ ugly like the rest of us

❗- What are the highest priorities to this oc (at a point in their life of your choosing)?

In his own words, gettin’ tail and having a good laugh. Im pretty sure he justifies every major life decision with “wouldnt it be funny?” Terrorized his local community for the lulz, squandered all career opportunities for a cheap joke, moved regions for a fresh start and fucked it all up with more clownery, joined a band for the spectacle, etc etc. He basically functions as a personal horror story of compulsive self-sabotage

🦷 - Would this oc ever bite someone?

Oh yeah

Rufus:

💝 - How much effort do they put into appearances? Do they have a favorite article of clothing?

She assembles outfits with purpose, but also doesn’t like to spend more than 20ish minutes on prettying up. Usually I’ll give ocs piercings cos body mods are super important to me but rufus is the exception since those are a bad idea for fighting. He favors practicality over fashion, but can appreciate when there’s an overlap. For example he loves spikes, and patches up tears in his clothes with grey and light blue fabrics (his favorite colors)

✨ - Tell something that makes this oc feel happy!

Getting punched in the mouth, because that means she gets to retaliate. She’s far from a righteous plucky shounen protag but insists she’s the good guy, so she’ll reference having this undefined Warrior Code Of Honor that constantly adapts to whatever makes her the hero of a given scenario. He also loves catching low-gliding whimsicott out of the air and making wishes :3

🐰 - How huggable is this oc?

Depends on what youve done to “earn” a hug. She’ll squeeze you like a pinsir’s vise grip, feels pretty good if you need your back cracked. He always hugs two and half a seconds longer than youd expect him to. Pros: feels warm, embraces fully and firmly, not opposed to lifting you if desired. Cons: skin feels a little rough, rigid and stiff hold, 50% chance she’ll whisper something threatening in your ear before letting go

Jacqui:

🧁 - When is their birthday? How do they celebrate it, if at all?

Her birthday is March 8, making her a pisces if that means anything to you :} When she was still active as a performance poet she’d have an annual reading of obituaries for people who died on the same day, followed by an artsy grim and shocking “event” like serving individual spoiled ingredients instead of a birthday cake or tearing a cocktail dress off of herself to reveal an sfx suit of fake guts n gore underneath. Her niche fanbase really misses it

[novelistash]

An hour into my meditative exercise, a kid comes up to me and asks, “Is that telekinesis?”

Politely, I reply, “No. It's electromagnetic pulses.”

She then proceeds to brag about how she can do telekinesis and shows off. My words of praise don't stop her, but eventually my silence gets her to stop and ask, “Why're you doing that?”

“I'm hatching a Pokémon.”

“Wouldn't that be faster walking? Or on a bike. You should get a bike and ride around with a Slugma. You probably don't have a Slugma, huh?”

“I used to. Please let me concentrate. I'm not very good at this.”

She doesn't argue with that. Silent as a Raltz, she wanders a short distance away and watches me until her mother comes to fetch her. For all of her complaining, I expect the mother to be stubborn and cruel, but instead, she relents and agrees to leave her behind. It hurts. The yelling, the snide comments, the passive aggressive agreement would come as no surprise to me, but the understanding hurts me. This mother is giving this psychic child something I never had growing up. Every concession was a bargain. Every agreement came with conditions however invisible they might be.

The steady roll and bounce of the premier ball stops. I expect to find a newcomer messing with it, but the light on the button has lit up. The white ball opens with a flash of light, revealing an egg. It wiggles back and forth, cracks forming along the length of the edge and then all at once the bits of shell are pushed back, ejected from the Beldum's psionic escape.

“Wow!” says the little girl. “I've never seen one.”

“It's a Beldum,” I tell her.

She snaps back. “I know what it is! I've just never seen one.” After her aggressive response I think she's done with me, but soon she's asking with that same chipper voice, “What are you gonna call it?”

“I don't know. I think I'll figure it out as we get acquainted.”

I get close to the Beldum and hold out a hand. The gesture isn't to give it something to sniff, but to help me channel a soft ripple of electromagnetic energy. It responds, vibrating at the same frequency as it floats in close to form an orbit around my hand. Its eye is swiveling around, distracted by the growing crowd of onlookers. The hatching of every egg is an event, but it's made all the more special by me showing off psychic powers. The insecure psychic girl starts doing tricks and it helps me grab the Beldum's attention.

“Hey, little one. It's alright. Let's see what you like.” I reach for my Poketech X and stop myself. This thing will be discontinued soon and I don't know what I'm going to do about it. The premier ball is already registered to me, but I don't need it to figure out the Beldum's nature. “You want some food?”

It floats up fast, using one tooth to pull at my bag.

I rummage through my bag.

“I have some pokechow,” offers an elder with a Zigzagoon.

“I'm alright,” I say with a smile. “Just picking out some berries.”

I get out five and spread them out on both hands. Figy, Wiki, Mago, Aguav, and Iapapa rest about an equal distance from each other. I have hundreds of them saved up from my time in Sinnoh where berries are plentiful. The Beldum spins about, putting its mouth over each berry as the teeth twirl. Once it passes the Mago berry, it stops, swishes back and sucks the berry up into its body. It's got a sweet tooth, so it'll be fast.

The others I need to feed to my Beldum by hand, but its got a huge appetite. No trouble with the Figy berry or the Wiki.

“Whatcha doing?” asks a youngster inches from my face. He's close enough for me to smell the Poocheyena on him.

“I am determining its nature.”

“Doesn't your Roto-phone tell you that?” he asks like I'm an idiot.

“He knows that!” snaps the psychic. They leer at each other and I dread the possibility that they're gonna battle.

“Gimme some space, please,” I tell the youngster. Scooting forward, I put a hand on the flat surface of the Beldum. It soothes the Pokémon, easing the erratic electromagnetic field into a more stable sinuous wave.

“Can I pet it?” asks the youngster.

“No, it's about to get dangerous. You better get back.”

He and the psychic turn about and start issuing commands to the crowd like they're deputes in the police force. I feed my new friend the Aguav berry and there aren't any problems. I let out a sigh of relief. Its not gonna get confused.

“It's alright,” I tell the kids. “The threat is over.” My body struggles with rising to my feet and I see stars. My hasty new friend hovers over to support my back. Smiling, I stroke a bare panel of its surface.

“Well, what is it?” asks the youngster.

“The Beldum has a hasty nature,” says a lass with glasses.

“How do you know that?” asks the youngster.

She goes into a diatribe about the different types of berries and I ignore them to check in on the psychic girl. “Hey, you gonna be okay?”

The child holds up her Roto-phone. “I'm calling my mom.”

I nod and stretch out my back.

“Well, hasty is a terrible nature for a Beldum anyway!” says the youngster to end the lass's discussion. He's not wrong, it's just that I don't need my Beldum to battle.

* After getting away from the hustle and bustle of Slateport's boardwalk, I use my Shiinotic to give my Beldum a polish. The spores are porous enough to help scrape off birthing gunk and his metal body protects him from any poisonous effects. Me, I need a mask and gloves, but the Beldum doesn't mind. As long as I keep communicating with the ripple of electromagnetic power, it's happy. It. I remember how Esther Flowne gendered her Beldum. She obviously wasn't a fool, so she must've sensed something about Hoshino that gave her a vision of gender. I'm not picking up anything from Beldum that would gender the floating monster of psychic bound steel.

I get out some technical machines and go through the process of teaching it some heavy hitting attacks. Zen Headbutt, Iron Head, and Iron Defense round out its limited selection. Beldum's can't learn anything until they evolve, so the study session goes on long into the night. Soon my buddy is performing the moves with two letter signals sent out in morose code. Getting it to ignore my verbal commands is gonna take some time. The pokemon is too eager. I'm barely finished saying “Zen” and its already charging up the psychic attack.

Edvard, my Shiinotic, is max level. One decent attack and he'll destroy Beldum, but using Strength Sap allows for the push and pull of combat to be simulated while giving my Beldum a wall to practice on. We go until Beldum has to struggle and I take them all into the Pokecenter for rest. I don't realize how tired I am until I shovel down some food. I like training with my new Beldum. Its not gonna be a winner, but I should have a lot of fun at the contest.

* Registering is quick and easy. The premier ball is inserted into the slot, sign my name, and I am ready to compete in a pokemon coordinator contest. The conditions are normal and the day starts out with a hundred contestants. Most of the people competing are actually about my age. Youngsters and Lasses are no longer interested in contests. It's an old trainer's game now and that makes my competition interesting. Most are there to socialize and make friends while they show off their pet, but a few have that look of serious competition in their eyes. I put on sunglasses and keep to myself.

The call my name and I get up from the audience. Without so many competitors the theater would be empty. There's three judges at the front and they don't really care. Every few days the normal contest comes along and they probably don't see anything worth mentioning. I hope to change that.

Feet set wide apart, I cross my arms and hold my head high. “Listen up, losers! I'm the elite trainer ASH and I'm gonna destroy you with the coolest Pokémon in the world!”

A few people chuckle and a murmur spreads through the audience.

“Please send out your partner,” says one of the judges.

“You got it! Mega death bringer, come on out and destroy!” I go for an over the top throw; only the ball sticks to my finger. “I said destroy!” I shake my hand, acting like the premier ball is stuck. It takes quite a bit of effort to keep up the act, my psychic abilities aren't great so the multitasking is difficult, but I'm able to keep the ball on my finger for three shakes.

Then out comes my Beldum. It's wearing a cape with the symbol for death on the back.

“Ha! You won't be laughing now!” I call out. “Beldum, use Take Down.”

It stands still.

“I said use Take Down!”

The crowd laughs. Beldum float down and rests its head on its body.

“In that case, use Meteor Smash!”

Out comes the Take Down attack, responding to my electromagnetic signal.

“Yeah, that's it! Now wow them with Ze-”

Beldum shoots forward covered in psychic energy. It comes out of the attack spinning, rotating over and over; eye and all.

“Hey, I didn't shout the attack yet!”

It starts spinning so fast the the cape flies off.

“And stop spinning! We gotta wow them with our finale.”

It does, nodding to get into position.

“Alright losers, get ready for a real attack! Straight out of Alola, it's time to use a Z-move! Go, Corkscrew Crash!” I go through the motion of the Z-move, moving through the familiar gestures until the motion is complete. Meanwhile, I give Beldum the signal for Iron Defense and its edges extrude and shine.

“What! That wasn't Corkscew Crash! We only have three moves! You've messed everything up!”

Then, right on cue, it tilts its head and half closes its eye.

“Aww. I can't stay mad at you.” I lean down and give my Beldum a hug and it knocks eye to limb together, making an audible chink for everyone to hear. Returning the pokemon, I pick up the cape and bow to leave.

Responses are good in the audience, a few of them even standing up to cheer, but the judges don't look impressed. Not a single one of my moves were cute, but hopefully the performance makes up for it.

* After round one, I'm in the cafeteria eating with over a hundred trainers. A few people walk over and chide me for bringing a pokemon that I don't know how to train. So I get extremely serious and nod, apologizing as I bow so low my head hits the table. They walk off and I can't help but laugh behind their back. Beldum enjoys the R & R outside. It's easily distracted by all the other pokemon flying around. A Cutiefly trainer comes over and the two play an informal game of chase.

“That was a pretty good opener,” says the trainer. He's a pretty guy, maybe ten years younger than me, but in no way a kid.

“Thanks, I couldn't think of how else to do this.”

“Beldums don't really belong in a cute pageant. He should be doing a tough competition.”

“Well, my Beldum has a sweet tooth, so it's gotta be cute.”

He shakes his head. “You're not gonna make it to master with that attitude.”

“Maybe not,” I agree. “But it'll prepare Beldum for when it evolves.”

“Can Metangs even learn cute moves?!”

I laugh. “I don't know.”

Beldum puts Cutiefly into its mouth, gripping the bug with its three teeth. Cutiefly freaks and Beldum acts like a bottle dropped, rolling over the ground as only the black of its eye can be seen. When Cutiefly goes over to investigate, Beldum springs back to life and chases Cutiefly.

“What's your name?” I ask the trainer.

“I'm Raul and my friend over there is Gwendalyn. Your name was ASH, right?”

“Yeah, that's right. I still don't know what to name my Beldum.”

“You looking for suggestions?”

I shake my head. “Inspiration. You think my Beldum will ever be seen as cute?”

He frowns. “I guess he's the cutest Beldum.”

I notice how quickly Raul is to assign Beldum a gender.

* There are a lot of tears in the hallway when the standings are listed on the wall mounted monitors. Not from our group. Most everyone there is content to receive losing marks. We're in Normal rank. We know our chances of success are low. One Vulpix trainer is incensed to see that her beloved didn't make it, but their coat looked matted. She storms out of the building with tears in her eyes. As for me, I don't have any reason to cry. Beldum has made it to Round 2. It placed tenth. Which is good for my Pokémon's experience, but a sign that all of my theatrics isn't gonna win out against the presentation of the classically cute.

* Next up is follow-the-leader dancing. All sixteen of the final competitors are on stage. Raul is on the side the far side of the stage taking the spot of number one. Beldum is in between a derpy Zigzagoon and a way too serious Buneary. The Zigzagoon can only do the steps when watching their trainer. Buneary pulls off every move as listed, but they're also not looking cute. All those flowers in the fur aren't making up for the stiff movements and the trainer is getting irate fast.

I play the fool, calling out moves with gusto. Frequently, I'm calling out the wrong moves, shouting them like a maniac. My actual commands to Beldum are electromagnetic projections, and it's hard for me to project them out to the space. The problem is that I came under prepared and I don't have a signal for spinning. I try to send out a rapid flurry of waves and Beldum flies out with confusion. The effort is too much. I go down and I go down hard.

No one designed the stage for stunt drops. It is hardwood and my hip takes most of the impact. I need to ham up my exhaustion, but I'm seeing stars. My breath is shallow and everything feels electric. Beldum should be doing dance moves, but it flies over to check on me. I smirk at the pokemon and I can't be mad. It must know that I'm hurting. It can't feel the psychic impulses from me. I give it a hug and put my forehead against its eye socket. No one is breaking form.

They think whatever's going on is part of my show. I roll away and throw my arm out to prepare my flounce, but round two is over. I don't make it to the next round and that's all well and good. Me and the Buneary trainer leave the stage. Once I'm outside, I lean up against the wall and try to find my breath. It's difficult. Psychic activity takes it out of my chest. My heart feels out of sync with my body, like one's running while the other is trying to swim. Beldum is still there, leaning against me to provide support. I feel bad for worrying it. I feel bad for not giving my pokemon a name.

“I don't know why you're so upset!” says the Buneary trainer. She's not a lass exactly, but what a lass might grow into after a decade of disappointments. All her hair and makeup give the woman a look of sophistication, but it's kind of ruined by this air of entitlement she carries. I can see the pink in her eyes from where her tears are trying to break through. “You're using a Beldum! You and your Beldum are never gonna be cute enough to beat actually cute pokemon!”

Sighing, I rise to my full height. “What's your name?”

She's acting like I'm trying to intimidate her, raising her chin like she'll take a slap on the cheek with courage. “Riko.”

“You don't know why you lost, do you?” I ask.

“Those judges are blind! Buneary is the cutest Pokemon anyway! Way cuter than that bug.”

I sigh. “Your Buneary is too serious to compete in cute. Look at them, watch the way they move. They're made to battle.”

“You don't know what you're talking about! You're just a loser who can't even deal with the pressure of performing on stage!” Riko turns around with her head turned up high and for the first time in the contest her Buneary finally does something cute. They stick their head up, spin around on their heel just like their trainer, and march off.

I laugh and run to catch up with her. She's already outside marching down the stairs when I make it to the door. “Hey, Riko.” She flashes me a rude gesture. “I was wrong.” That makes her stop. “Your Buneary can be cute. You just have to make it be haughty.”

“Haughty?” she looks down at her Buneary scowling at me.

“Yeah, adorable doesn't work on her, but she's great at being haughty.”

The Buneary turns away from me.

“We don't need advice from the likes of you!” she declares and marches off, catching her beloved Buneary as they make it to the walkway.

As for me. Well, I sit down at the top of the stairs and close my eyes. I am not ready for this.

@trainerspiral

[nikarie5]

Sugar Rush - snippet

Rating: General audience. No ships. Juvenile diabetes, bullying, racism, and sexism. Incorrect medical advice. Excessive use of commas and run-on sentences.

General description: Remus helps one of his summer Cubs navigate how to continue in sports after a diagnosis of Type 1A diabetes. Thanks to @lumosinlove for the characters, @noots-fic-fests for the prompts and cards, and @hazelnoot-analyst for their archive work :)

Remus sifted through his inbox, which was usually pretty quiet during the summer months before training camp kicked off. There would, however, sometimes be the odd e-mail from a parent related to the Cubs teams he coached, so he continued to check his Lions' e-mail everyday. Sure enough, today, he had two e-mails, one from the ice manager about when the Cubs were expected to arrive for their special arena tour the coming week. One from - hmmm - one from the administration forwarding an e-mail from Mr. Sanchez, father to one of the more gifted Cubs Remus has coached in the past three seasons. Lucía had joined their program as a seven year old, and now, at nine, was one of the best skaters and players on the ice. She had worked hard to catch up to the kids who had grown up on the ice, learning to skate as soon as they could walk, and she showed an instinctive grasp of hockey tactics and reading plays on the fly. She had missed last week, and he hoped this wasn't bad news. Remus clicked open the e-mail, scanned it quickly, then let out a breath. It wasn't good news, but it certainly wasn't as bad as he feared. Lucía had just been diagnosed with juvenile diabetes, and was afraid that she couldn't play hockey anymore. Remus fired out a response, inviting Lucía and her father to a meeting before the next practice. Then, he hit the books. Well, he hit the internet, collecting resources from reliable sites he already knew of and sniffing out some sites with information that might be more accessible to an 8-year old, and some resources in Spanish, just in case. Then he called his buddy Jake, a former NFL tight end Remus had met during his courses at Madison. Jake, a Type 1A diabetic, did a couple of sessions at the university each year for aspiring trainers on how to assist athletes with diabetes, and Remus had stayed in touch. He also fired off an e-mail to Luke Kunin, who had started working with the Madison sports trainers in high school while Remus was finishing up his program, even though Kunin's freshman year was after Remus' graduation. The following Tuesday, Remus felt ready to go. He met Lucía and Mr. Sanchez in the lobby, and ushered them through to his office so they could be assured of privacy. It broke his heart a little to hear Lucía look so defeated when she declared that she couldn't play anymore. Diabetic Mexican girls have no place on the ice, her doctor said. At that, Remus shot a look to Mr. Sanchez, whose jaw had clenched so tight, Remus was afraid he might crack a tooth. "But, you are from Honduras. Lucía, don't believe anything someone says if they can't even get that right once you've told them. Your doctor is very, very, very wrong." "The school says it too, and other players. Only some girls can play hockey, and not brown girls, and not sick brown girls. They say I will get a sugar rush and fall down whenever I skate fast. And they say I will get too fat to skate, only fat Mexicans get diabetes." "I am sorry you had to listen to that. None of what they say is true. I will keep a stronger ear out for that kind of bullying and ask the other coaches to do better too. That kind of attitude does not belong on the ice, in the locker room, or anywhere."

Then, point by point, Remus demolished the false statements, explaining that diabetes is different from a sugar rush, and that with careful management, Lucía can not only play any sport she wants, but excel at it. He shared the tips from Jake and Luke about how to wrap Lucía's new continuous glucose monitor and pump so that they were protected without impeding movement or insulin flow. He talked about nutrition and managing diet in the sense of being aware of how your body was feeling, and learning when and what to eat ahead of expected activities, and how to recognise a low. He shared his stories of working with Kunin, and how the whole World Junior team kept jelly beans in their pockets and on the bench, just in case Kunin needed to quickly raise his blood sugar. He talked about how the discipline and awareness of how her body is feeling that Lucía will develop while managing her diabetes might help her with the work needed to become a professional athlete, if that is a goal she decides to pursue (although nothing can guarantee anyone will make it to a professional, - and doesn't Remus know all about that, he thinks silently to himself - but diabetes certainly shouldn't stop her).

An alarm started to ring from the desk, and noting that it was almost practice time, he gave Lucía a handful of the temporary tattoos Jake had courriered over to him, some a simple blue circle, others the circle with the words Insulin Dependent written underneath. Then he sent Lucía off to change into her gear, but asked Mr. Sanchez to stay behind for a second.

"What your doctor said to Lucía was incredibly inappropriate, damaging, and incorrect. Is there any chance you can switch doctors?"

"I have already started the process to transfer Lucía to a pediatrician who specialises in juvenile diabetes." "Good. If that doesn't work out, please reach out to us here, and we will try to share more resources and make some connections with organisations the Lions work with regularly. Also, if I may be so bold, please report that doctor to the state board and the US Department of Health and Human Services. I have to head to the ice, but, please, don't hesitate to reach out to me if you have any other questions or concerns about Lucía playing hockey. I can set up another meeting like this anytime this summer. Lucía is a gifted player and a great leader on the ice, hockey would be worse off without her playing."

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter 3: Boom …Katsu makes a grave miscalculation - and ends up needing rescued by - or is it from? - a certain snarky kitsune.

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3 

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

When I first met Francisco five years ago, he’d been a merchant trader whom Aki had encountered on his travels somewhere. Aki invited him back to The Mountain as a kind of cultural exchange – Francisco was to teach me Portuguese and I tried to teach him Japanese (one of us was a lot more successful in this endeavor… whether it was because I was a motivated student but a terrible teacher, or because Francisco just doesn’t have an ear for language, I can not say). Upon his arrival at Aki’s manor, Francisco had taken one look at Aki’s chatelaine Fume and inexplicably fallen in love. One month stretched into another, and eventually Francisco decided to stay in Japan, setting in Sakai, and making frequent visits to his lady love.

Unfortunately, his Japanese is still… well… horrible, and after listening to him struggle through the simplest greeting, I switched to Portuguese. Otherwise, we would have been standing in the middle of his front room all day.

“It is a relief that my message reached you first, instead of one of Aki’s other messengers.” Francisco took me back to his private quarters – a room with a hodgepodge of Japanese and Western furniture … none of which matched. It was jarring to see a silk tapestry carelessly tossed over a desk, as if it were a tablecloth and not art. “Because I am certain that he would want you to know what happened. He’s always spoken very highly of you. I have no idea why Fume believes otherwise.”

Since it wasn’t worth getting sidetracked to another ‘why Fume hates Katsu’ chat, I instead seated myself in one of the extremely uncomfortable chairs at the desk, and suppressed a protest when Francisco set a pot of tea down on the tapestry. “He was supposed to meet me in Niigata over two weeks ago. When was the last time you saw him?”

“Longer than that.” Francisco dropped some konpieto right into his tea and stirred it with a chopstick. “It was in Junho… er, what you call the sixth month. I did not know he was missing; only that he planned to meet me last week, and he never appeared. Normally, Aki always meets me when he says he will.” It didn’t escape me either that Francisco was using Aki’s least formal name. I wondered if their friendship was closer than appeared. Or. It could be that Francisco didn’t have any patience with formality.

“Was there anything he said that gave you an idea where he was going? Did he ever share the results of his investigations with you?” It was a silly question, really. Though Francisco was valuable as a language consultant, it wasn’t like he’d ever been part of our investigations.

Francisco loudly cracked down on a piece of candy – hopefully he wouldn’t break a tooth on those because… well, lets not go into medieval dentistry. “No. No. Never.” He shook his head emphatically. “We only talk about trade goods. Fabrics. Spices. Sometimes I tell him of my religion. I ask him what things Fume likes. But we never ever talk about what he does. Never.”

Like the castle seamstress back in Azuchi, Francisco had unleashed a flood of too much information – and three “nevers.” Was it a signal that he was lying? I tossed a quick, blunt question out there to gage his response. “What about weapons smuggling or imports? Did he ever ask about those?”

“Weapons? Why would…? No. He wouldn’t have. He knows I only import rugs and fabric.” He offered to refill the tea, but I still had most of my barely drinkable first serving.

Hm. Francisco had seemed genuinely surprised when I asked about the weapons. Perhaps there was something he was avoiding, but it didn’t have anything to do with guns. Unless Francisco was a far better liar than I credited him as being (which… not impossible). For a brief moment, I considered pulling Mitsuhide’s favorite trick of asking ‘what aren’t you telling me?’ but the opportunity passed and Francisco asked me where I was planning to stay. “There is room for you here, and when you go back to the Mountain, I will accompany you.”

I wasn’t certain I wanted to return to the Mountain without Aki, but that was a problem for another day. So, I gratefully accepted and offered to translate for him while I was in Sakai. “Although before that, there is a building I want to get a look at.”

It had been almost five years, but some places live in your memory. The building where I had nearly died was one of them. It was easy enough to find it again. It had loomed like a boogeyman in my dreams, but now, in daylight, it was a simple warehouse close to the docks. Nothing to worry about on the outside.

On the inside…

I walked through the unlocked door…

…into an empty building.

Well, that’s anticlimactic.

Ok, it wasn’t completely empty. There were a couple of piles of rope and rough cloth… basically evidence that the warehouse was still being used, but at the moment, whatever was normally stored here had been loaded onto a ship or distributed to buyers already. I sniffed the air and took in the faint scents of ginger and turmeric. Probably the most recent items passing through here had been spices from Goa.

Near a pile of rope was a torn-up scrap of paper – a list, in Portuguese. I lit a candle and spent a moment puzzling out the handwriting and translating the text. Various shades of cotton fabrics, which would confirm Goa.

Maybe there was an office of some kind in here? A room with records or other correspondence might lead me to the name of the owner of the warehouse. I didn’t immediately see a door or a hallway, although further back from the entry, it was too dark to see anything anyway.

I was trying to decide whether to risk lighting one of the lanterns, when-

“Who are you and what are you doing in here?!” The voice came from the entry - I had left the doorway open just a crack. I heard it slide open wider and a shaft of the late afternoon sun, cast a long silohouette across the floor.

One rule of sneaking is that, when caught, pretending you have a perfectly rational explanation sometimes works. I prefer to talk instead of fight my way out of trouble, so I pasted on my best ‘I’m supposed to be here’ smile, and turned around to face my interrogator.

A little boy?

He was maybe ten or eleven years old and dressed like an ordinary citizen – not expensively enough to be from a merchant or warrior family, and not roughly enough to be a beggar. That didn’t give me much to go on when formulating a response to his question and I ended up with what was more or less the truth. “I’m trying to find out who owns this building.” I considered adding that I worked for someone who wanted to rent some space, but at the last moment, I changed that to, “I’m new to the city and am looking for work.”

The boy relaxed. “I suppose if you were a thief, you’d more likely go to a place where there is something worth stealing.” He gave me a brief friendly bow. “I’m Hiko.”

I bowed in return. “Katsu. From Niigata.” I’d certainly spent enough time there recently to display knowledge of the place if quizzed. I could even relate the number of cracks in the floor of a certain inn.

“That’s very far from here.” Hiko came closer, looking at me with interest.

You have no idea kid.

I shrugged, then pulled out three of my remaining juggling bags and tossed them into the air. Showing off for him a little, but also trying to prove I was no threat. “I wanted to see the world… or at least the ocean.”

“My master is the merchant Shojumaru. If you want to see the whole world, he could probably find a job for you aboard a ship.” He watched the juggling bags spin for a moment. “How long did it take you to learn that?”

Nine days.

“Not too long.” I slowed down to show him how I alternated the toss and catch of the bags. “A job aboard a ship might be fun.” Or at least learning more about shipboard opportunities would be a good multi-tasking option for me, given that there was still a possibility that my brother was aboard one somewhere. But I needed to continue looking for Aki here in Sakai first before sailing off to parts unknown. So, I told a slight fib. “Except I can’t swim – that’s a problem.”

As soon as those words came out of my mouth, I got a weird flash of a little boy – this little boy? – flailing about in a flooded river. The sensation of savage rapids and cold water slapping at my face.  

Grab the branch… it floats!

The memory – or was it a dream? It had to have been a dream - was so vivid that I nearly dropped the beanbags. Luckily the kid didn’t notice. “Does your master… this Shojumaru, own the building?”

“I don’t know.” Hiko took the beanbags and attempted to juggle them, with no success. “Many merchants use it – it’s only empty today because there haven’t been any ships docking this week.”

Hm. No clear answer, possibly dead end. Even if I learned who owned this building, there was no guarantee it had been the owner’s weapons’ shipment five years ago. All I knew was that those crates of guns had belonged to someone named Motonari and he had purchased them from a Nanban merchant. A lot can change in five years.

There had to be a better way. I needed an “in” with the Kaigoshu, the merchants who governed Sakai, to learn who was who, and who had been who five years ago. But that was akin to trying to get a meeting with a Daimyo, and a courier like Katsu just didn’t have the connections to do that. I wasn’t even sure that Francisco did, given his continuing difficulties learning the language. Perhaps he would know someone who knew someone, though.

Meanwhile, the sun was getting lower in the sky. Hiko reluctantly gave me back my bean bags. “I need to return to Shojumaru’s offices. He sometimes worries about me if I am too late.”

Really? My estimation of this Shojumaru raised a little. It was nice that he cared for his servants. Hiko’s loyalty to him was clear in the boy’s voice. Maybe Shojumaru would be that someone who knew someone?

Part of finding stuff out was knowing when to press for information and knowing when to back off. I sensed it was time to back off… just because Hiko was a little boy didn’t mean that he wouldn’t get suspicious if I kept asking questions. “Better hurry then.” Together we walked out of the building, and I slid the doors shut behind me. “You should not worry him by being late.”

He nodded solemnly, in sort of a mini-adult way. I guess he was kind of an old soul. As he started to walk away, I called after him again. “Hiko – you can keep these.” I tossed him the bean bags. I could easily make more.

“Thank you, Katsu.” He smiled as he hurried on his way.

Shojumaru.

Another name on my list to investigate. I turned and headed back to Francisco’s. This part of town, so close to the harbor, seemed a bit less safe in twilight. I didn’t exactly hug the shadows, for that would have called more attention to myself, but I was alert to any sign of trouble. The last thing I wanted to do was become ‘disappeared’ myself. There was already far too much of that going around.

I was carefully making my way across the road when my attention was caught by the chatter of Portuguese. Two Nanban merchants were sitting at a table in the front of a restaurant. They were accompanied by a pair of beautiful Japanese women, in kimonos so pretty that I momentarily regretted that the only women’s clothing I owned was one ugly brown maid’s kimono.

Courtesans, apparently, for they seemed to be doting on the merchants far out of proportion to the men’s looks. Or, well, I suppose that was unfair. The men might have nice personalities?

I stepped closer, close enough to hear their conversations, close enough to learn that the Portuguese were saying extremely rude things about their female companions.

So much for having nice personalities.

It was too bad that the women couldn’t understand them, or I’d imagine a couple plates of food would get dumped in laps. Or… maybe the women understood perfectly well what the men were saying and just pretended—

!

A germ of an idea took root… a courtesan could get access to the Japanese and Portuguese merchants.

But… could I pull something like that off? I didn’t want to become a courtesan in truth … just to-

“Boy! What you staring at?” One of the merchants yelled at me in heavily accented and broken Japanese.

“Sorry.” I bowed. “I was only trying to decide if I wanted to eat here. Is the food good?”

They looked at each other in confusion. Taking advantage of their distraction, I shrugged and moved on.

“I am sorry, Katsu. Your Portuguese is usually better… but I thought you just offered to be my concubine.” Francisco was caught between confusion and horror.

“No, I don’t want to be your concubine. I’m going to auction myself off, and you shall buy me.” I had refined my plan in between the time I left the restaurant and now. “That will give me the opportunity to see what goes on behind the scenes of the auction.”

Francisco held up one finger. He walked over to his desk and poured himself a glass of some kind of wine, then gulped it down. “Now, please explain this idea in terms that don’t make me mistreat another glass of Madeira.”

“As Aki’s representative, I’m investigating the smuggling of weapons into Sakai.” My third lie of the afternoon, but Francisco wouldn’t know that Aki would never have asked me to do this. Nor did I mention that I was worried about the possibility that Aki had been taken prisoner and auctioned off, or shipped to China, or beyond.  “I need to be able to move amongst the merchants and see what I can learn. If I am auctioned off as a slave, I will be able to listen in on their conversations – these people don’t know that I speak Portuguese. Then – you’ll buy me. It’s perfectly safe.” I realized as I said this out loud, that my logic wasn’t completely clear, but I figured Francisco would chalk that up to the language barrier.

“Akihira will murder me if I let you do such an insane thing.” Clearly, I had more convincing to do for he instead downed another glass of that wine.

“I can handle myself. I would prefer, of course, to do this with your help, but…” I let the statement trail off into the air to give him a moment to imagine where I was going. Of course, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to try this without a partner, and if Francisco said no, I’d get one of Aki’s other couriers (not Takauji though)  in his stead. But that would take more time than I wanted to spend. Easier to convince Francisco that I would act alone if he didn’t step in. “If it is the money you are worried about, I will find a way to pay you back.”

He heaved a long, deep, shuddering sigh, as if I had called the weight of the whole world down on his shoulder… or more realistically, the kind of sigh he would make if I had called the whole weight of Aki’s anger on his shoulders. “If we must do this, then let us do it correctly.” He unlocked a drawer in his desk and pulled out a bag that jangled. “These are yours.”

He dumped the contents of the bag out onto his desk and a shower of Takeda minted gold, Portguese real, and copper mon bounced onto the polished wood.

Whoa… that was a lot of money.

Almost as interesting was a sealed letter addressed to me.

Ok, who am I kidding. The letter was more interesting than the cash (and the cash… was pretty damn interesting).

Meanwhile, Francisco quickly swept the letter, and most of the money back into the bag, leaving a handful of the copper mon. “This ought to be enough for me to purchase you back from an auction.”

“So little?” Almost insulting.

He gestured to the male garb I wore almost exclusively these days. “We could spend a week outfitting you and making you look far more expensive, but do you want to waste your own money, not to mention your time, like that?”

Ok. Point to Sancho Panza here. “That letter… I noticed it was addressed to me.”

“Akihira left both the letter and the money for you in case anything happened to him. However, I am not yet ready to believe the worst has occurred.” He tossed the bag back into the drawer.

“Wait!” I reached for the message, wanting some kind of connection to Aki, even if it was an ‘in the unlikely event of my death’ letter. “What if there is some clue as to where he is now?”

“Katsu, Akihira wrote this letter two years ago. I do not think there is a relation.” He slammed the drawer shut and locked it. “I have some idea of the contents of the letter. Things that he would prefer to tell you in person some day. Things that do not sound as nice on paper as they do in conversation.”

All that this was doing was making me really want to read that letter, but I allowed Francisco to have his way for the time being. After all, I saw where he stored the key. I could sneak back in here later and grab the letter once I was established as his concubine.

Three days later, I, or more specifically my “Kaya” identity stood on one of several small platforms arranged along the wall – or whatever the dividers between rooms were called on a ship. I suppose it was still a wall. Clad in my most hated, ugly brown housemaid kimono, I stood with my hands tied in front of me, while strangers, most, but not all, foreigners, walked past, some pausing to look me over.

To leer at me.

This… might not have been the best idea I’d ever had.

I’d been on this ship half a day, and I immediately discovered – nothing. Or, more specifically, I discovered that there was nothing to be learned here. Anyone who might have been captured during the time Aki had disappeared was long gone. And the people running the show? Didn’t pay attention to our faces. We were simply commodities.

Though I had thought I was prepared for how I would feel when men eyed me as if they were determining how well I would perform in bed, the reality of the situation was dehumanizing. One of them said to his companion, “rather a diamond in the rough, eh? Give this one a few baths and it might end up quite the prize.”

“No. Too muscular,” came the dismissive reply.

Aware that the conversation had been in Portuguese, I kept my face blank and my eyes on the floor. Francisco had arranged for ‘Kaya’ – a housemaid who had gotten separated and lost during an attack on a Daimyo’s castle – to be sold. This wasn’t even an uncommon situation. In such cases the Daimyo’s family would either have been taken as hostages or forced to kill themselves, but servants who were not able to flee or hide often ended up captured and sold into slavery.

In a few moments Francisco would purchase Kaya, thus preventing me from the fate of becoming some merchant’s concubine or, even worse, bound for Europe to be the “exotic” plaything in a brothel.

I risked a quick glace around the room, wondering where Francisco was hiding. He hadn’t wanted to spend much time on board, as he was prone to seasickness. Even so, by this point, he ought to have arrived and walked past me to look at the merchandise.

But I didn’t see him anywhere.

Cutting close, Francisco. Too close.

Another foreigner paused in front of me. A Jesuit priest, complete with hypocritical cross and cassock. With pinching fingers, he grabbed my chin and forced me to look into his face. The man wasn’t bad looking, I’d give him that. But the hard look in his eyes and the sneer on his lips – no. Whoever this man bought would be the unluckiest person in the world. “Are you a fighter?”

I blinked. The priest knew Japanese, and he spoke it very well. “Fighter? No. I’m a housemaid. If you need your floors scrubbed.”

He smacked me across the face, shocking me into silence. One of the auctioneers yelled at him not to damage the stock but he only shrugged. “I didn’t hit her hard enough to leave a mark. Besides. I will give you this right now,” he held up a velvet purse and shook a pile of Portuguese real out. “If I can take her without the trouble of an auction.”

Francisco did have more than that amount of cash on hand. If he were here… which he is not. Wherever he was, he needed to hurry, because clearly the auctioneer was weighing the thought of low effort high reward.

Father Slappy Hands added three more coins to the pile, one at a time. I felt each clink in the pit of my stomach. “This one has spirit.” The subtext being that he would enjoy breaking it.

Again, the auctioneer hesitated, and the man continued, “You won’t get any more for her in the auction.” He tossed another five coins into the pile. “This is my final offer.”

I could see the agreement in the auctioneer’s face even before he opened his mouth. But before he could say a word, three strings of copper mon, and a substantial handful of Takeda minted gold coins were plopped into the startled hands of the auctioneer.

“I believe this amount will match and exceed the offered price,” came a new voice. A different voice.

The good news. Someone overbid Father Slappy Hands.

The bad news. That person wasn’t Francisco.

The worst news. I knew whose voice that was.

Cinnamon and sandalwood…

I turned my head to look… or rather to confirm… but I knew, from the way that voice again activated that prickly feeling inside me, I knew, even before I had visual, that I was going to be looking right at Mitsuhide.

His silver hair was hidden under a long dark wig… but the golden eyes and knowing smirk were all too familiar.

Well. Hell.

The priest eyed Mitsuhide. Mitsuhide eyed him back with that one eyebrow raised in a challenge and his hand resting on his sword.

The thing about bullies is that when faced with someone stronger, they’ll slink away. Father Slappy Hands held ground for just a moment, then… slunk away. Still, just to make sure he was leaving for good, I kept my eyes on him until he exited the room. I wouldn’t put it past him to attack me later.

Not that he was currently my biggest concern.

No, my biggest concern was the snarky warlord in the wig who was currently tucking my ‘purchase papers’ into his kimono.

He then turned to me, and without a word, Mitsuhide unceremoniously slung me over his shoulder and strolled through the room.

And for a third time, I’m upside down.

@mllorei @akitsuneswife @selenacosmic @bestbryn @lyds323 @tele86

[spacefinch]

Octonauts Incorrect Quotes

(All quotes are taken from “The Happy Hocky Family” books by Lane Smith)

Shellington: I like to study nature. I have an ant farm.

Shellington: These ants are my RESPONSIBILITY.

Shellington: “RESPONSIBILITY" is a big word. It means my ants count on me to take care of them. For example, today is a very hot day. My ants have no windows to open. How can I help? It is my responsibility.

Shellington: I know how!

Shellington: *removes the lid from the ant farm* My ants count on me to take care of them.

Peso: I have a white coat? Do you have a white coat? I have a white coat.

Peso: I have a SNOWY white coat. I have sno—

*a squid squirts ink at him*

Peso: …

Peso: I have a white hat. Do you have a white hat? I have a white hat.

Kwazii: I am making paper airplanes. SEE the AIRPLANES fly! FLY! FLY! FLY!

…

Kwazii: Tweak has come into the room. She is upset. She can’t find her blueprints.

Kwazii: I think I will go outside to play now.

Shellington: Kwazii is taking his catnap. Poor Kwazii. He is very tired. He is tired from chasing me around all day with a plastic snake. Poor Kwazii. Nap time is good. Nap time is good for Kwazii.

Shellington: Nap time is good for Vegimals too. The Vegimals need a nap. I will play them a lullaby to help them sleep.

Shellington: *plays a loud, dissonant note on his bagpipes, waking Kwazii up*

Kwazii: (explaining to Tunip) We do not skate down the hill. We do not like BROKEN BONES. We always play SAFE.

Kwazii: What does not have bones to break? Isopods do not have bones. LUCKY ISOPOD.

Kwazii: Peso, do you know the story of the MONSTER who comes to STEAL little penguins in the night? He comes into penguins’ bedrooms at twelve midnight.

Kwazii: BIG monster. SCARY monster. BAD monster.

Peso: I will lock the door after you leave.

Kwazii: You don’t have to worry about that, matey.

… the monster only comes in through windows.

Koshi: I have a candy apple. Do you have a candy apple? I have a candy apple.

Koshi: My candy apple is crunchy. Is your candy apple crunchy? My candy apple is CRUNCHY.

*CRACK!*

Koshi: I have a tooth for the Tooth Fairy. Do you have a tooth for the Tooth Fairy? I have a tooth for the Tooth Fairy.

Dashi: I have made a spring bouquet. Pretty bouquet.

Dashi: Uh oh. ITCHY bouquet.

Shellington: Ha ha! You used POISON IVY. Poison ivy has three leaves. Can’t you count to three? It’s easy: 1, 2, 3.

Shellington: (covered in itchy spots) I am MUCH smarter. I have used OAK leaves for mine.

A. Here is the marine iguana.

B. Here is the marine iguana’s BIG belly.

C. Here is where Shellington’s SEAWEED GARDEN used to be.

“In the Antarctic, there are lots of new games to play. This one is called FIND THE GUP-I.”

[feyriejane]

"Oh, please!" I exclaim, laughing. "We both know I'm the dominant one in this relationship." He scoffs at this assertion, his good nature taking the joke without offense. "Maybe not sexually, but with everything else."

"Yeah, well, you like it that way. You like to be in control." He says, thinking he's revealing a truth about myself that I don't even know. There's a smug grin in his voice that tells me that I can't lie to him.

...

Something about this comment makes me stop in my tracks. It feels wrong, like he's speaking about someone else. Some other powerhouse of a woman who demands what she wants and needs and doesn't settle for any less. He makes a joke, but I don't hear it. Something about how I'm spoiled and insist on having everything go my way. If I had heard this wasp of a comment, maybe I would've been stung by it.

If he is wrong, who can blame him? After all, I've spent my whole life building my identity around being bossy, assertive, organized. I'm the one who has it all together. I'm the one who keeps the ship running. I'm the one who delegates responsibility and picks up whatever slack there is.

In some ways, I can't help it. I was a third parent to three little boys my whole childhood. More often, I was the second or even first parent. To this day, I am the first person my baby brothers call when they need help, not our actual parents. All four of us were let down by the very first people we were supposed to be able to trust and I was the one who picked up all of the pieces.

But do I like being this way? I used to think so. I used to take pride in it. There used to be a sense of fulfillment and accomplishment that came with saying "Don't worry, I've got it!" And for a while, I really did have it!

Until I didn't.

Our grandmother died and my baby brothers, now practically men, called me crying and asking for support. I lifted them up and took care of them and held them while they cried and cracked jokes when they didn't want to cry. My dad lectured me extensively about how much those boys need me. I should be available to them, regardless of distance or time.

I felt myself start to splinter and crack. The very foundations of who I am threatened to crumble. I was hurting and my hurt was so obviously last on anyone's list of priorities, even my own. My dad tells me all the time about how he doesn't worry about me. How he knows I have a good head on my shoulders. How he sees what a survivor I am.

The truth is, I have been unraveling ever since. It has been nearly ten months and I've spent that whole time not only grieving the loss of a dear family member, but fighting tooth and nail to learn how to prioritize myself without neglecting the people that rely on me.

I come back to what he said about me. "You like to be in control." I come back to the question in my head. "Do I like being in control?"

...

"You okay?" He asks, concerned. I have been silent for a long time.

...

I don't like being in control. In fact, I think I hate it. What was once a source of pride for me has become my shackles, dragging me down to the earth, to everything I am, to everything I wish I wasn't. I am desperate to someone to release me, to let me collapse into their arms, to carry me gently to a warm spot where I can rest and recover.

But how do I even begin to share this with anyone? How do I tell him that I wish he would take over the management of our relationship? How do you tell someone that you need them to make the plans and anticipate your needs? Is that even a fair thing to ask for? More than that, how do I let myself give the control to someone else when I'm not confident that they can handle it like I do?

How do you let yourself trust the people you love?

...

"I'm sorry for calling you spoiled. That was probably a little too far." He says, trying to make a guess at the reason behind my silence. Here is a man who isn't perfect, but is trying. He worries about me and all of the things I don't tell him. I don't tell him a lot and I think he knows. If there's anyone who I can talk to about this, it should be him.

"Actually," I start, my heart pounding in my chest. I know this is important. I know this is a step in the right direction. I know this is where I heal my wounds. All it takes is a few words, a conversation, an admittance of the truth.

"I don’t like being in control. I hate it."

"Oh... I'm sorry."

"Yeah. I want to talk about that now if that's okay."

"I'm listening."

...

Just like that, my chains feel a little more manageable.

[rambleswhatsthepoint]

01.17.23

Today, someone at work posted the meme posted just below in our team chat and it just spoke to me LOL.  Feel like it describes my life at the moment.

There I am, a dumpster fire, just floating down a river with a smile on face.  And I/we have no idea what the hell is even happening.  It made me laugh and then a few tears fell LOL.  

today i did a 30 min arms before work and it was killer.  most of the moves were laying down, so no room for any “swing” to help you.  just lifting up my arms to put them on the keyboard kind of hurt lol.  it was a good work out.

i did clean off my work desk so that it looks a little less like a tornado passed through it.  made me feel a little bit better.  the office in general is still a mess, but i suppose it’s all about baby steps.

i agreed to go on a cruise next year with Speedy.  it’s way more than i would ever spend on a trip i booked myself, but in the end i thought FUCK IT.  just live life and be happy lol.  live life and enjoy it!  im not really very fiscally responsible and i guess i’ll just embrace that LOL

today super sucked because a client dropped a last minute request on our laps, but like no pressure, we just have to prepare a budget for them for 2024 and they had no idea that they needed the info to review by end of day today.  NO IDEA.

random - at my dentist appt the lady was like “wow you really grind your teeth”.  apparently i have worn off the top layer of enamel on some of my molars already.  flipping fantastic! lol  of course they had recommended me a custom night guard years ago and i was put off by the price.  back when, i feel like they were telling me it would be like 450 bucks.  of course since my teeth are apparently taking a lot of damage i asked them to check again how much it would be and now it’s 700!  i’m sorry what LOL.  i guess the price just goes up every year (like everything else?).  she said it could last up to 10 years so really it’s not that bad of a cost.  and that if i were to actually crack off part of my tooth, the cost of repairing/capping whatever they do would easily be twice or more the cost of the night guard.

so of course i was like oh i’ll think about it LOL.  bought a cheapy one off amazon and trying it out.  the first night i could barely sleep, i ended up taking it off at like 230 in the morning so i could finally REALLY sleep.  last night i’m not sure i actually even tried to sleep with it LOL as i woke up with it not in my mouth.  i don’t remember taking it out. ah well, baby steps.

[color-of-magic]

It’s been 11 days since you walked out and never came back. 11 days since you sent me off to school in the morning like nothing was wrong and left me behind. 11 days that have felt like years, yet somehow like it’s only yesterday