#i still think i’m going crazy over this

[sombreset]

I’m still not over Deadpool & Wolverine: WWIII. At all.

(Spoilers, also cw for blood and gore and just. Weird imagery)

There’s SO much stuff that happens in this comic, way more than I am posting here, that really digs deep into why Wade and Logan are so intertwined. They both suffered horribly. They’re both near immortal. They’ll both outlive everything they know. They both have rage that doesn’t ever seem to go away, they just have very different coping mechanisms.

This comic LITERALLY intertwines them, in more than one way.

First example is the one most people talk about, which is the whole thing where Logan cuts off a chunk of his own leg and cooks it for Wade so he has at least something to eat (is it gay to make the decision to cut off a piece of yourself and give it to another man so he has something to eat, even tho you both technically don’t need to eat, it just helps? Who knows)

Second example is the end of the comic, which I wish more people would talk about. While they’re fighting a big bad, Wade gets torn apart. Like… crushed. Into pieces. Past the point where Logan thinks regenerative healing can save him. And Logan is, despite all his complaining of how much he doesn’t like Wade, destroyed. Scared, and as the big bad points out— afraid.

Logan then goes into an absolute blind rage. He’s in pain. He’s scared. He genuinely thinks he lost Wade, and he loses it.

All the while, a small voice can be heard telling him to stop. Begging him to stop. He’s lost control. The antagonists of the comics wanted this, and while Logan is thrashing around they intentionally teleport him in front of a mother and child, fully expecting Wolverine to not tell the difference between friend or foe and kill them. Logan certainly cannot tell what he’s doing at this point. He can hardly see.

And then…

Suddenly, Wade. Because some of Wade’s blood got into Logan, he literally grew OUT of him, just in time to stop him from murdering innocent people. Because Logan had fully lost control. Wade pleads with him to stop, and in the end he literally pulls out one of Logan’s bones and shoves it into his face to get him to actually snap out of it. Afterwards, they have a lot of really good conversation, but to avoid clogging this post more— tldr Wade calms Logan down, and tells him “Nobody can decide we’re monsters but us.” Which… I love.

Later on after the fight, there’s this funny panel (and a few before) where Wade’s like dude we are sharing your ass AND dick rn isn’t that crazy and then yeah he makes the comment about being “in” Logan which. Nice

Anyways crazy b/c by the end of this comic, parts of Logan have literally been inside of Wade (chunk of Logan’s leg eaten by Wade) and ALL of Wade has been in Logan (he fucking grew out of him)

This comic is VERY good go read it if you haven’t

[didhewinkback]

on my way to buy some flowers for you

as if i was going to resist THIS. little blurb from the something old universe.

word count: 1ishk; warnings: zero this is fluff city baby.

---

It was the type of September day you fantasize about in the dead of the frigid cold winter months or during a heat wave in July - the sun was shining but the air was crisp, the breeze creating a slight chill. The dewy grass smell walloping him with nostalgia for the first day of school - how he would fiddle with his new backpack while also trying to make sure his curls fell just right for the 800th time.

It’s his favorite time of year in London, something he only realized recently, having spent his first decade or so living here either on tour or in America doing talk shows and photoshoots and meet and greets and interviews and dinners with executives and feeling himself slowly slip away bit by bit. 

There’s none of that now, as he leans up into the sun, the jazz album playing through his airpods adding an extra pep in his step as he turns down his street. This city has never felt more like home and he’s never felt more like himself. He’s gotten to be a real friends and family man this year, a standard he set for himself in the aftermath of tour. He’s someone who shows up, now - birthday parties, concerts, major work events. He’s there. 

He’s also set strict standards for relaxation - yes, he is the type of person that requires a routine in order to actually feel at ease but it’s worked out great so far. Nothing too crazy, just living in the familiar, building a life through habits. Like this one - how he’s gotten to wake up before you for a year and a half straight, rather than just a few weeks at a time, kissing you on the head before quietly slipping out of the house to head off for a cold swim or bike ride or walk through the neighborhood. Coming home to find you blinking sleepily over a cuppa or getting ready for the work day or, his favorite, still in bed, waiting for him.

It’s his favorite thing, waking up next to you. His stomach swoops at the memory of how good you looked this morning, your arm wrapped around his waist, the sunlight glowing golden embers across your skin. 

He adjusts the bouquet in his hands to enter the gate code once he gets to the house, the surprise gift making him so giddy he has to laugh at himself, barely able to contain his grin. It’s not elaborate, it's just flowers, but it will make you smile and that’s enough for him. 

He unlocks the front door, taking his airpods out of his ears and putting them away, taking in the sounds of the house. He quickly toes off his sneakers when he hears the sound of pages turning, can close his eyes and picture you sprawled out on the couch, book in hand. He feels buoyant as he walks down the hall towards the living room, hiding the flowers behind his back. 

Yeah, this is his city, he thinks, this is his home. And this, he thinks as he lays his eyes on you - still wearing that shirt of his you love to sleep in, bare legs stretched along the couch, fully engrossed in what’s unfolding on the page in front of you - this is his person.

You look up as he enters the room, placing the book down on your chest as you look at him, sleepy smile growing wider as he shuffles over to you, bending over with his hands still behind his back to steal a kiss. 

“Good morning,” you mumble against his mouth as he ducks in to steal another, humming into it. 

“Didn’t know if you’d be awake.” he says.

“It’s half past 10!” you squawk indignantly. “I’m not a heathen.”

“Feel like last night would say differently.” he says, laughing when you smack him, living for the way your face flushes. 

“Didn’t hear any complaints.”

“And you never will.” he says seriously, poker face lasting all of two seconds when you honk out a surprised laugh, your grins growing as you look at each other. 

You shake your head, stretching your arms over your head before squinting at him, the way he’s standing awkwardly, hands still behind his back. He feels a bit like a novice magician, heat blooming behind his cheeks as he pulls the bouquet from behind him and holds them out in front of you. You gape at him for a second, eyes darting between the flowers and his face, before pressing yourself up into a sitting position. 

“Who are those for?”

“What do y’ mean who are they for? A man can’t get his wife flowers?” he says, loving the way the word feels leaving his mouth. 

It’s been about three months but he never tires of saying it, never tires of knowing it's you. A flash of heat flows through him as he remembers the late hours after the reception, being unable to stop muttering the word into your neck as his hands desperately clamored to hold you impossibly closer. My wife, my wife, my wife. 

Your mouth opens and closes a few times, the loss of words apparent as you take the bouquet from him, biting at your lip as you look over the bloom. Eyes lighting up when you see your favorites. You huff a laugh and he swears he can see a blush blooming along your cheeks. You look back up at him, grin wide on your face and you look better than he imagined. You’re better than he imagined. You’re everything.

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss, thumb brushing along his skin, causing goosebumps in its wake, your lips pressing against his just the way he likes. It’s a shit angle for his back, hunched over the couch, one arm on the back of it to support his weight but he really doesn’t give a shit, pulling away to press kisses all along your face until you giggle and push him away. 

“They’re beautiful. They’re fucking massive,” you say and he huffs a laugh against your skin, playfully biting at the apple of your cheek before pressing a kiss there and flopping down on the couch next to you. “I love them. Thank you.”

You lean over to kiss him again, he wraps an arm around your shoulder to hold you closer, kissing you softly. It’s the sound of the kettle that makes you pull apart, the kettle that takes absolute ages but he got it for you when he was twelve and you’ve never gotten rid of it. 

“Fancy a cuppa?” you ask softly and he nods, heart skipping a beat when you press your lips to his again before getting up off the couch. “I’m gonna put these in some water.”

You head into the kitchen and he settles back onto the couch, smile never leaving his face as he listens to you putter around. He pulls his cardigan off, smirking before doing the same with his trousers. 

“‘M taking my trousers off,” he announces, kicking them off his legs and staring at them on the ground for a moment before quickly folding them and placing them on the chair next to him. “We’re going full lazy Sunday, baby.”

“Now you’re speaking my language,” you call back and he laughs, reaching for your ipad on the coffee table before laying down on the couch. 

“Will y’ do the crossword with me?” he asks, opening the app up on the ipad, eyes poring over the clues. “The wordle kicked my arse this morning.”

“That’s because you suck,” you say, heading back into the living room with two steaming mugs, placing them on the coasters on the table. “You’re also the only person on the planet still doing the wordle.”

“‘M a man of commitment, what can I say.” he says and you hum, pressing a kiss to his forehead before shuffling back to the kitchen. “And the guy who made it, made it as a gift for his wife, so from one wife guy to another, I’ve got to support.”

He hears you snort at that as he gets a bit lost in the crossword, pausing only when he feels your eyes on him. He looks up, sees you leaning against the doorframe, the vase of flowers in your hand as you look at him with such love in your eyes he swears he stops breathing.

“What’s that look for?” he asks, voice a little breathless.

“My husband got me flowers. And now he’s laying on our couch without any trousers on,” you say with a shrug, taking a deep breath, the way the word husband leaves your lips causes goosebumps to bloom along his skin. That’s him, he’s yours. He’s got a ring on his hand to prove it. “And I’m just feeling really lucky. Because I really love him.” 

His breath catches in his throat as he smiles over at you, the two of you just looking at each other for a moment, both a little in awe of this life of yours, this marriage. This family. 

“Even if he’s really shit at the crossword.” you say, cheeky smile on your face that only grows when he honks out a laugh. 

“Then get over here and help me,” he whines and you quickly shuffle over, placing the vase in the middle of the table before crawling on the couch over him.

It takes some rearranging but you’re squished together, you halfway on top of him, the ipad in between you as you start to go through the clues together, legs intertwined, his arm around your back, holding you close. He presses a kiss to your temple and takes a deep breath, feeling so much gratitude for this moment he may just explode.

There’s just nothing else like it, is there. Nothing like you. No place like home.

--

a/n: if youre reading this and are like bitch theyre married?! canonically, yes. i promise some writing about the wedding will be coming but its taking forever and this inspo hit me like a truck so i had to work with it. also so fun bc grapejuice always reminds me of this fic anyway w the lyric "give me something old".

hope u like it, let me know what u think. shoutout to the random girl on twitter who tweeted my username asking for more writing last summer sorry its taking so long but wow u made me feel special. i missed them!!

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Burn Out

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you try to juggle hunting with school, but one day you just can’t do it anymore.

“Hey kid, we need you in the war room.”

The knock on your door followed by Sam’s voice had your head shooting up from its position on your notebook.

“What?” You mumbled under your breath, before you got your bearings. “Oh no…”

You looked down at the notebook in front of you—under the drool, there was a half-finished history report. It was due tomorrow, and you hadn’t been able to get started on it until an hour ago, because you and your brothers had been on a hunt. How could you have fallen asleep on it? You had to get this done!

“Y/N?” Sam knocked again. “Can you hear me?”

“I—yeah!” You closed your notebook—hunting was more important; people’s lives were more important. You could finish the report later. “I’m coming.”

…

“I think we should call it a night,” Dean said. You stole a glance at your watch as you put down the lore book that you weren’t even halfway through—it was almost 2 a.m.

“Good idea,” Sam agreed, slamming his own book shut and heading for his room.

“Go and get some sleep,” Dean told you, reaching over your shoulder and closing your book for you. “We can finish this tomorrow.”

You weren’t sure how that was possible, since tomorrow was a school day, but you didn’t argue with Dean. You stumbled back to your bedroom, heading not for your bed, but for your report.

…

You never did make it to your bed. You were pretty sure that you dozed a few times—or at least blinked really long—but you still ended up finishing your report in time.

As soon as it was done, you got yourself ready for school, taking a quick shower and hoping it was enough to make you look refreshed.

Your next stop was the kitchen; you were hoping you had enough time for some breakfast before Dean took you to school. Only, Dean wasn’t in the kitchen like he normally was. Curious, you checked the library, the war room, the shooting gallery, and finally the garage—not only were Sam and Dean not there, but neither was the Impala.

There were only a few options; a last-second hunt (except they would’ve told you they were going), the local library for more books (which hadn’t been necessary lately with all of the books in the bunker library), the grocery store (except the kitchen was fairly well stocked), or a diner for an excuse to get out of the bunker. You figured the last option was most likely—none of the others made sense, and the guys had to be stir-crazy after all the research. They must have wanted to let you sleep in, which meant they must also have forgotten you had school.

“It’s ok,” you mumbled to yourself. “I can still make it.” You’d have to skip breakfast, but if you ran you might still make it to class on time even without the Impala.

It was going to be a long day.

…

You didn’t make it in time, but you were fast enough to just get a tardy instead of an absence.

“Glad you could join us,” the teacher greeted as he gestured towards a seat—in the front.

You didn’t respond as you collapsed into the seat, reaching into your backpack to pull out your report when your phone buzzed.

Dean: Where r u?

So he had forgotten about school. He was probably too sleep-deprived to remember what day it was; you could relate to that. You were just typing out a response when you noticed a shadow over your desk.

“I’ll take your report,” your teacher stated, holding his hand out. “And your phone.”

“But I was just—“

“Your phone, please.”

You handed your phone and your report over without another word, hoping Dean would remember where you were on his own—the last thing you wanted was to freak him out.

“Now, if we’re done with distractions, we need to get started.”

…

You tried to get your phone back at the end of class, but your teacher assured you that—

“You’ll get it at the end of the day. Just stop by the office before you go home.”

—which was bad enough, but when he followed it up with—

“Oh, and I think you should take this back.” He held out your report.

“Wha—why?” You asked, your heart sinking.

“It was supposed to be three pages, not two. If you get it back to me tomorrow with three pages, I won’t have to dock as many points. I think it’s your best option.”

“Um—ok.” You took the report, hoping that you’d actually get the chance to get that third page by tomorrow.

“Just a page more,” your teacher said. “Maybe expound a little more on the individual paragraphs and you’ll be good. And try not to stay up too late doing it,” he added. “I’m guessing things have been pretty busy with you lately—you never used to forget stuff like this. Are you—“

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “I just…I have to get to class.”

You turned on your heel, and your teacher didn’t try to stop you. You knew he was just concerned about you, but in your life you couldn’t afford to have people be curious about you. It never turned out well.

And you just couldn’t take anything else going wrong.

…

You’d forgotten to bring your lunch or any money to buy some from the cafeteria, so you hid out in the bathroom for most of your lunch hour. You got told off by three separate teachers for dozing in class, and there was a pop quiz in the last period over reading that you hadn’t had time to do.

When the final bell rang, you couldn’t get out of your seat fast enough. You made a beeline for the office, hoping that your phone hadn’t been blown up with messages—hoping that Dean wasn’t freaking out.

You didn’t get a chance to find out; you’d forgotten to charge your phone last night, so by the time you picked it up from the secretary, it was dead.

“It’s fine it’s fine it’s fine,” you muttered to yourself over and over on the walk home. You would get home, your brothers would be fine, you’d take a little nap…

You opened the door to the bunker, but you didn’t make it halfway down the stairs before.

“Sam! She’s here!”

Dean caught you at the bottom of the stairs, his hands going to your shoulders, which he gripped tightly.

“What is wrong with you?! Where were you? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“Dean, I—“

Dean wasn’t listening.

“You can’t just disappear like that! Sam and I have been going insane! Of all the stupid, irresponsible things to do—“ Dean cut himself off, waving an angry hand in front of his face as if waving off the rant. He didn’t even notice the way your face was scrunching up, or the tears that were beginning to track down your cheeks. “You know what, forget about that. Forget about how you scared the crap out of us, and people are dying out there because we had to stop researching the hunt to look for you. Forget about how you made us think you coulda been dead. Where. Were. You?!” Dean’s grip was back on your shoulders, and he was shaking you. His face was tight with rage, his form towering over your own.

“I-I—“ your voice squeaked and broke, but Dean was still stiff with rage and waiting for your answer, so you tried again. Your voice was as tiny as you felt right now as you finally managed to choke out. “I was at school.” You didn’t notice the way Dean’s face changed—the anger melting from it as realization hit him like a train—because your eyes were too full of tears. “They—I—“ you wanted to tell him they took your phone, you wanted to tell him that you tried to find him before you left, you wanted to tell him you were doing your best…but you couldn’t. You couldn’t find it in you to give any excuses that could make him yell at you like that again. “I’m sorry, I…I’ll go help Sam with research.”

You ran past Dean, heading for the library.

“Dang it,” Dean mumbled under his breath, smacking the wall with his fist as he huffed. “So stupid, I’m so stupid!” He took a long moment to breathe, not wanting to look angry when he saw you again.

He had enough of a mess to fix already.

…

No one was in the library when you got there, so you went right to pulling books off the shelves.

After the first few books, you spotted one on a higher shelf. You were just reaching for it when you heard—

“Y/N!”

You turned around to see Sam heading right for you. You were already stumbling out an apology before he even reached you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I thought you—“ you were blubbering, having not stopped crying since your encounter with Dean. Sam noticed immediately and his approach slowed as his hands rose innocently.

“Whoa, hey, it’s ok, you’re ok.” Sam continued to step forwards, but that just made you feel cornered against the bookshelf, and you started to panic as you couldn’t make yourself stop crying.

“I’m sorry Sammy, I was at school, I’m gonna help you now, I’m sorry I’m sorry—“

You didn’t notice the books slipping from your hands until they clattered to the floor. Your hands were starting to shake, and your knees were shaking so hard that you had to slowly lower yourself in a crouching position on the floor before you fell. You tucked your head into your knees, finally letting out all the stress of the past weeks as you sobbed.

“Hey hey hey…” Sam knelt down next to you and grabbed onto your shoulders. “It’s ok, just take some deep breaths. You’re ok.”

You could hardly breathe between sobs, but you tried your best to listen to your big brother’s instructions.

“Kid?” Your head lifted just a little when you heard Dean’s voice. He joined Sam next to you. “Slow down, sweetheart. Breathe.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you whimpered, taking deep breaths between words. “They took my phone and I didn’t know what—“

“It’s ok, don’t explain,” Dean insisted. “Just keep taking deep breaths for me, ok?”

“Ok.” You sniffled, grabbing on to Dean’s offered hand and breathing slowly until your sobs subsided.

“Good, good.” Dean sat back on his heels, running a hand over his face. “I should’ve slowed it down, I should’ve known we were burning you out.”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled. “I thought maybe you would figure it out—I can help you now—“

“No, no” Sam interrupted. “This isn’t your fault, don’t apologize. And the research can wait—I think you should get some sleep.”

“And food,” Dean added. “Did you eat today?”

You rubbed your sleeve over your face, trying to stop your tears.

“You don’t have to baby me,” you said finally. “I-I can still help you guys.”

“Not today,” Sam countered. “And maybe not for a little while. We’ve been burning you out too much.”

“Look,” Dean added before you could argue. “Sometimes we can forget that you’re still just a kid, and you still have kid stuff to worry about—like school. That’s on us, not you. This isn’t your fault; we need to do better. And that starts with making sure you take care of yourself. So go get some food, and get some sleep. Everything else can wait, ok?”

You hesitated. “Ok.” You let your brothers help you to your feet, and then you couldn’t help yourself—you pulled Dean in for a hug, burying your head in his jacket. You felt his body shake a little as he chuckled.

“You’re ok kid,” he said, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“It’s ok,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Ok.” Dean was smiling as you pulled away. “Now get going.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Sturgeon Moon in Aquarius ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

This year’s Full Sturgeon Moon in Aquarius is also a rare blue moon that occurred on 19 August (sorry this PAC is so late aaagh!!!). Following an insane influx of aenergy during the Lion’s Gate, the theme surrounding this blue moon is Perseverance. This period is all about amassing resources and gathering momentum.

I’ve a feeling this year’s autumn (Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius) season is going to be massive and possibly even life-changing for the spiritually awakened ones ^^ You’ve got to be in the receiver mode of miracles and rare opportunities to really notice! Practically all the aenergies now are leading us to a greater sense of freedom to do what we want when we want.

Also, there’s this sense of…a mandate…? That should push Humanity towards liberating themselves from the enslavement of automation and AI. See, technology isn’t necessarily evil, right? Think about how great it is to have the kind of connectivity we have today; how amazing information dissemination has become in this Internet era.

Technology, just like currency, is impartial. In the end it all boils down to how you’re entertaining the evil agendas of evil people using tech for evil purposes. Become aware of your own habits and inclinations if you don’t want to be a fool-tool of the raggedy corporations. In essence, this Full Moon’s Aquarius aenergy is saying: ‘Use tech to your advantage instead of becoming a slave to it.'

‘Don’t be tech’s little bitch; make it your biotch.’

High time you reclaimed your divine birthright to co-create high-quality Reality instead of getting enslaved by tech that seeks to ‘map you out’. This the era you say to yourself: ‘I’m engineering a more prosperous Reality with my clear conscience.’

GNOSIS: The Dark Rise of Brain Rot Content by Moon

deck-bottom: XV The Devil Rx, Gold Astrologer (Simon Forman), Priestess of Ritual

[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Heart Filled with Sweet Colours

t r a n s f o r m a t i o n – Page of Cups

I see that you’ve transmuted very many negative aenergies within yourself, most of all, negative emotions as well as sensations in your body. Seems you were guided to do this by your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides after having experienced an extreme level of suffering—could be emotionally or physically or both. When you arrived at the most extreme end of what you were struggling with, you couldn’t have gone any other way but to turn your situation around by reclaiming control over your own thoughts and emotions, which effectively shifted your directions and decision making.

There’s a really good quote that says this: ‘When a situation is good, enjoy it. When a situation is bad, transform it. When the situation can’t be transformed, transform yourself.’ You had to learn quite a bit and finally chose to do the last. You’ve known more; now you’re wiser; but wise people are sometimes very pure and childlike. And that’s the beautiful paradox of ‘growing up’ with compassion in your heart. You transformed yourself to be kinder and more loving towards yourself and the crazy-ass situations you found yourself in; now, it’s just easier to extend that love and compassion to the world outside of yourself~♪

t r a n s g r e s s i o n – 4 of Swords Rx

Many of you tuning into this Pile most likely have been in isolation mode for quite a while. The aenergy of this FM in Aquarius, namely the ruler of the 11th House of networking, is pushing you towards becoming social again. And this time everything is going to be (or has been) different. You’ll see that not only are the people in your physical Reality a lot nicer and more compassionate (like you’ve shifted timelines) but you’re also more capable of handling the low-vibing monsters that you may sometimes still have to interact with, with more patience yourself XD

Basically, you’re learning or have learnt to operate in society with more ‘tact’ now. You’ve spent a great deal of time learning to accept a more practical conception of ‘good and evil’ in the world. But to you, good and evil isn’t just black or white; you’re a person who’s come to understand the many colours of good and evil when applied in many different situations. This is wisdom, a gift, that not many have yet to grasp. Your ‘return’ to society is for you to expand this consciousness further and wider!

t r a n s c e n d e n c e – 10 of Wands

The vibe of your ‘return’ to society at large is reminiscent of the Gautama Buddha LMAO He returned to his hometown/home and became a teacher for those who weren’t yet awakened to the higher level of consciousness he had worked so hard to attain! So yeah, a ‘modern priest’ aenergy surrounds you very strongly here; although I find that the majority of you tuning into this Pile are actually quite cute XD Idk why I’m getting a strong ‘gamer girl’ vibe from you. You could also possess a strong sense of aesthetic of your own.

You’re a highly spiritually advanced being but in a cute package, is what I’m getting LMAO At this point in time, your communication skills are getting polished and refined, far beyond what you’re already capable of doing. You may want to look where your Mercury is located in your natal chart, what aspects it makes, and check out what you have in your 3rd House, as well as check out what House is ruled by Gemini ^^ The insight will empower you further at this point in time!

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Red Alchemist (John Dee) & Priestess of Intuition

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Solid to Liquid, Calmly

t r a n s f o r m a t i o n – Knight of Pentacles

Hold up! You’re about to jettison down a new portal of adventure, pretty soon but before that, hold up; planning and a readiness of the mind is very necessary at this moment. This Moon Reading is very tardy so I’m going to be reading an aenergy that’s pretty much already transpired by the time you’re reading this XD More to come for you in the next FM in Pisces PAC regarding this aenergy, OK? But for the most part, I’m sensing that you’re still in preparation mode for something big that’s just around the corner for you.

Just like the liquid in the glass in the pic you’re attracted to, there’s something solid that’s turning to liquid, but slowly and naturally. You’re not being burnt or heated up to melt…you know what I mean? Because melting solid to liquid can be a painful experience for peeps who’ve been through a lot, right? The Universe is gracefully granting you a peaceful time to manifest your Life Purpose in the most natural and pleasant way just yet!

t r a n s g r e s s i o n – 5 of Pentacles Rx

So, enjoy this peaceful time. I sense that it’s possible that a lot of you tuning into this Pile have been SO used to chaos and drama—so used to bubbling madly at 110C—that now you don’t know how to just…be…when no stress, no drama is going on. It could be that you were a dramatic person before. Maybe you were toxic. Or maybe you couldn’t help but be that way because you were simply surrounded by toxic betches! But that’s all in the past, OK?

If you look around and become aware of where you are now, it becomes super clear how far you’ve carried yourself away from all of that low-vibrating Reality ^^v Understand that you’re ‘weaning off’ drama, chaos and other types of ‘addictions’ caused by high-level toxicity in your old Reality. I’m getting that this is the prime time to study as much as possible about ‘surviving narcissistic abuse’ to give you not only knowledge but also validation :D

t r a n s c e n d e n c e – Knight of Cups

Other than just ‘surviving’ trauma, if that part doesn’t necessarily ring true for you, there’s also this sense of just using this peaceful time to readjust yourself to a more spiritually attuned Life. Perhaps some of you are getting into crystals, meditation, healing audio tracks, subliminals and reiki. Maybe there are other ‘spiritual’ hobbies and practices beyond these ones hahah You’ll know if you resonate~ I’m being told that this Aquarius FM really does bring that sense of balance between ‘spiritual practices’ and ‘modern technological living’ for you.

Maybe you’re meant to know more about this (especially if you identify as a Starseed) but a lot of the human qualities that we classify as ‘positive mental states’ are…technology. Things like harmony, peacefulness, positive mindsets, intelligence…all of these are practically technology. There are ways we can trigger such ‘states of mind/being’ by means of…technology. So yeah…Imma leave you with that for now XD

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Green Magus (John Dee) & Priestess of Energy

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Integrity Just Like Jelly

t r a n s f o r m a t i o n – Page of Pentacles

The other two Piles are very focused on the idea of rest and self-care, but as per usual, Pile 3 is always about going places and learning shit LMAO In this regard, if you’re not physically going places, this is indicating your mind going places through meditation, daydreaming, movie-watching, or documentary-binging. You know what I mean~ This the period you’re enriching your inner world through any means available to you at this moment.

Whilst doing this, don’t forget your water intake, OK? Vitamins and real foods are crucial for you at this moment. Your cells are digesting a lot of Light. Remember that Light is INFORMATION. That’s why Darkness is the absence of information, right? Light is Information; when Information is digested well it becomes Knowledge; when Knowledge is applied well it becomes Wisdom; when Wisdom is put to the service of all it becomes En-light-enment~

t r a n s g r e s s i o n – 7 of Pentacles

Prospering towards wisdom, I’m seeing that you’re currently being taught to be perfectly OK with things taking their sweet time to unfold! If this is the Pile you resonate with the most, you’re literally on the precipice of your grandest Life Purpose yet! Your Life Purpose is big, you know that, right? It could possibly even change the world or perhaps you resonate with having a Life Purpose that revolves around the creation of a Prototype what will alter the way Humans think or do shit~

This either shares a resemblance to Nikola Tesla or Adolf Hitler. This either takes on the archetype of Sadhguru or Teddy Bundy~ Your take LMAO Either way, you’re meant to disrupt your society and scatter it all! But that’s the thing, right? If you’re gonna be a social menace that’s in the service of Light instead of Dark, you’ve gotta learn to keep your INTEGRITY. Because… what was that again? Absolute power absolutely corrupts?

t r a n s c e n d e n c e – King of Swords

‘Nothing discloses real character like the use of power. It is easy for the weak to be gentle. Most people can bear adversity. But if you wish to know what a man really is, give him power. This is the supreme test.’ – Robert Ingersoll

‘It is from weakness that people reach for dictators and concentrated government power. Only the strong can be free. And only the productive can be strong.’ – Wendell Willkie

‘To have intelligence there must be freedom, and you cannot be free if you are constantly being urged to become like some hero, for then the hero is important and not you.’ – Jiddu Krishnamurti

Do you understand your role in the next chapter of your ARC? Not to be some kind of a narcissistic wielder of power but to be a gentle-albeit-passionate reminder for the people, that only they can save themselves from this pathetically enslaved existence of theirs caused by a lack of Integrity.

Got no integrity? Got no intelligence? Go succumb to AI already -__-;

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Gold Astronomer (John Dee) & Priestess of Integrity

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟸𝚔 || 𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You assume Luke and Jess are sexist when they say you can't assemble a chair.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None except loads of fluff

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Jess Mariano x reader

It was a busy day at Luke’s Diner. The place was packed, and Luke, always a stickler for doing things himself, had accepted a delivery of new chairs that needed to be assembled. Naturally, Lorelai had dragged you in with the promise of coffee and pancakes, which quickly turned into you offering to help.

"Okay, so these are the parts," you said, staring down at the instruction sheet in front of you. "This doesn't look too bad."

Lorelai leaned in, glancing over your shoulder. "You say that now, but just wait until you're drowning in screws and bolts."

"Great, so optimistic," you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

As you started unpacking the parts, Luke wandered over. "Y/N, you sure you got this? These chairs are heavy. I usually handle this kind of thing myself."

You frowned, pausing mid-screw. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Luke blinked, confused. "I just mean, you know… It’s heavy lifting."

Your frown deepened, and Lorelai was already smirking, sensing the impending storm.

"That’s so sexist of you, Luke!" you said, standing up straighter, putting your hands on your hips. "What? You think just because I’m a woman, I can’t handle it?"

Luke stammered, "No, no! I didn’t say that—"

You cut him off, pointing the screwdriver in his direction. "Yes, you did! You basically just said, 'Y/N, you can’t do it.' So rude."

Just then, Jess strolled in from the storage room, looking as nonchalant as ever, a book tucked under his arm. "What’s going on here?"

You spun around to face him. "Jess! Defend my honor!"

Jess quirked a brow, glancing between you and Luke. "From what?"

"From Luke's blatant sexism!" you exclaimed. "He doesn't think I can assemble these chairs."

Luke muttered something about his words being taken out of context, but you ignored him.

Jess chuckled, leaning against the counter. "Well… to be fair, I don’t think you can do it either."

You stared at him, aghast. "Excuse me? Are you guys just going to assume that a woman can’t do this?"

His lips quirked up into that infuriatingly smug smile he was so good at. "It's not about being a woman or not. A woman can definitely do it," he said, pausing dramatically, "but you? I’m not so sure."

Your jaw dropped, and you grabbed the nearest thing—an old magazine from the table—and swatted him with it. "You're the worst! Take it back!"

Jess dodged the hit with a smirk, not even trying to hide his amusement. "You’re cute when you're mad, you know that?"

"Oh, you think so?" You raised the magazine again, your eyes narrowing. "Well, get ready because I'm about to become fucking adorable."

Jess laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay! I'm just kidding. Jeez, Cherry."

Lorelai, watching the whole interaction with great interest, nudged Luke. "See? They're made for each other."

Luke grunted. "They're made for driving me crazy."

You crossed your arms, glaring at Jess. "You're gonna help me finish these chairs, Mariano, or I'll make sure you regret it."

Jess shrugged, still grinning. "Sure, whatever you say. Just… try not to break anything."

You shot him a withering look, but inside, you couldn't help the little flutter of excitement you always got when Jess teased you like this. He was impossible, and yet, you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

As you two got to work—Jess actually offering helpful tips here and there—Lorelai sighed dramatically from the booth. "I give it six months before these two are married."

Luke glanced at her, unimpressed. "I give it two weeks before they’re banned from this diner."

You and Jess exchanged a quick look as you muttered, "Fine," giving Jess another playful shove as he handed you the next screw. "But I’m still mad at you."

Jess leaned in, his voice soft and teasing. "You look adorable when you’re mad."

You huffed, trying not to smile. "I hate you."

"Sure you do," he whispered, grinning as he bumped your shoulder, "and I think you're adorable too."

I am having a cherry flavored lollipop right now and I just realized Jess is MADE to say the nickname 'cherry'. 🍒

[roanofarcc]

FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

pairing: boone x fem!reader

summary: years spent in the a mediocre relationship with your “highschool sweetheart” comes to an abrupt end. instead of the heart break you thought would consume you, you feel free. and that freedom leads you right to boone’s front door. 

warnings: sad boone, relationship issues, unrequited love (or so one thinks!), a curse word or two, mentions of drinking (brief). I am a firm believer of buying boys flowers :)

word count. 2.7k || masterlist

“Welcome, everyone, to my humble abode,” Boone said, dramatically gesturing to the small house at the end of a dirt road. The place was decorated in a very Boone-like fashion with odd scraps of metal loitering the side yard, junk cars they oftened used for scrap parts when any of their vehicles broke down, and some wildflowers that his mother had sprinkled around the front steps when he first moved in a couple years post-high school. 

His road consisted of three other houses, miles away from anything besides corn fields. The houses had all changed, but Boone kept his the same considering he wasn’t there for much of the spring and summer months, and he spent the winter holidays in Florida with his retired mother and father. 

“Thanks for letting us crash at your place,” Kate said, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t think I could’ve slept in one more motel.” 

Javi nodded. “I’m still scarred from the roaches.” The last couple of places they’ve stayed had been less than ideal. They were grimy and bug-infested. All of the Wranglers were excited to stay at an actual home for once. 

They all hopped out of the truck, meeting up with the rest of the crew who pulled in right behind them. Boone enjoyed his home more when there were others inside of it. He didn’t like the quiet and he hated his clear view of his neighbor's home.  

The darling little blue house had stood there since Boone had moved in. The porch had been painted and the landscaping changed a hundred and two times, but the house was still sky blue and always decorated for the seasons. 

He made the mistake of looking at the house for a beat too long. It was like the universe was looking down at him, laughing and serving up some karma alongside his arrival. The front door swung open, and you walked out. He should have looked away and followed his friends inside, pretending like he never saw you, but he couldn’t. You looked up after locking your door and your gaze fell right on him. For a moment you looked at each other from across the street before a smile broke out on your face and you hurried across your front yard, right towards him. 

“Oh, man,” Boone muttered under his breath, hands reaching to fix his hair and smooth out his wrinkled cutoff. 

“Boone?” Tyler said, clapping his shoulder before his eyes fell upon you. “Oh.” Tyler didn’t need to say more than that. He knew about Boone’s stupid crush on you since the moment he moved in. And as many times as he tried to shake it, you made it impossible to let it go. 

You’d been in a long-standing relationship, not married nor even engaged, but dating for as long as Boone could remember. It was awful of him to like someone who was already dating someone else, but there was something about you that made it impossible to rid his brain of it. Every time he saw you, it only made it worse because you were the epitome of neighborly. You baked him cookies and remembered his birthday. You offered to water his flowers and mow his lawn when he was away. You waved at him from the mailbox and told him stories and invited him over for coffee. You always asked about his storm-chasing adventures and listened with so much intent it drove him crazy. 

It was a pathic thing, he knew that, pining after a taken woman, but he couldn’t help it. And he’d never act on it, despite how much he loathed your boyfriend. Boone didn’t find himself around your boyfriend that often, for many reasons. But the times he had, he noticed how lackluster he was in comparison to you. Bland and boring with a touch of douchy-ness that rubbed Boone the wrong way. He knew most of his opinion was formed in jealousy, but the rest of it was the little tidbits of information you offered up to him. You didn’t necessarily complain but rather vented. Like the time he forgot your anniversary and tried to apologize with some lousy dinner at his friend's bar. Or all of the times he brushed off your excitement for certain things. The biggest thing though, that you had only admitted to Boone once on a winter’s night after you had wandered over after drinking a couple glasses of wine, was how he never wanted to talk about marriage. Every time you brought it up, he shut you down and left you waiting for some kind of sign of forever. 

Boone was pretty sure you didn’t remember telling him that, but he did. He couldn’t imagine someone being with you and not wanting to settle for forever. And sure, not everyone wanted to get married, but it was clear that you did and were waiting for some kind of initiation from him that never seemed to come. 

“Boone!” you shouted from the edge of his driveway, a bright smile on your face that twisted his gut into knots. He waved and walked forward just as you gave him a hug. You were always warm and smelled sweet, and you never failed to hug him when you caught him returning home. 

“I didn’t know you were due back yet?” you said, pulling away but staying close. 

Boone cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Y-Yeah, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing; no one wanted to stay another night at a motel.” 

“Can’t blame ‘ya there.” Your eyes sparkled in the sunlight, captivating. “Why don’t y’all come over tonight for some drinks?” 

Dani and Lily cheered from behind Boone and everyone aside from Tyler nodded their heads. 

Boone couldn’t say no; he had no reason to other than spending time with you was certainly going to make his affection worse. Tyler looked at him, unsure and sympathetic, but Boone ignored him and offered you a lopsided smile. “Sure thing.” 

You clapped your hands and bid them a good afternoon as you strolled back to your home. It wasn’t until Boone turned around that he dropped his head in his hands. 

Tyler whistled, slinging an arm around Boone’s shoulder as they all headed towards his house. “You’ve still got it bad, huh?” 

Kate turned around, curious. “Got what bad?” 

Boone said nothing as he unlocked the door and ushered everyone inside. Tyler answered for him as he pulled off his boots in the entryway. “A bad crush on the neighbor.” 

A gasp sounded from Lily. “No way! I didn’t know you had a hometown honey!” 

“I don’t,” Boone sighed, plopping down on the couch that was a little dusty from lack of use. “She’s got a boyfriend.” 

“Oh, man,” Javi said with a slight wince. “That’s rough.” 

“You’re tellin’ me.” 

Later that night, Boone shook off his nerves as he led the group of Wranglers over to your house. It was an uncomfortable mix of feelings that twisted around inside his gut. He always liked seeing you and catching up with you, but at the same time, he always found himself flustered and hit with the brick of guilt for liking you. He thought about moving to avoid his achy heart, but that seemed a bit extreme considering he was hardly home anyway. And he wasn’t sure he could give up seeing you, even in passing. You were a friendly face above all else, a calmness to his otherwise chaotic life. 

He knocked on your door, and you opened it with a wide smile, ushering everyone into your backyard. In the dim light of the evening, a fire was cracking in the pit and different beverages were resting in a small cooler. 

Boone ended up sitting beside you, your knees knocking against his. He fiddled with the tab of his beer and worked up the courage to ask, “What’s James up to tonight?” 

You seemed to hesitate before answering, “He’s out for a work thing.” 

There was an itch for him to ask more, but he decided against it and resorted to sipping his beer and listening to his friends start to recant their chasing stories to you. It all was in good fun, a nice night despite the close proximity to you. The fire crackled and smoke danced upwards, melting with the deep blue sky peppered with stars. 

The conversations flowed like you had been a part of the Wranglers since they started. You were easy to get along with, sweet and talkative. Boone wasn’t even sure what the time was before the group started stifling yawns. Finally, Tyler made the decision to head back, prompting everyone to tiredly agree. 

They offered you a mix of hugs and handshakes, a nice goodbye while you offered them a ‘come around any time.’ Boone lingered behind, picking up trash while you smothered in the fire. 

“Your friends are nice,” you said. 

Boone smiled lightly. “Yeah, they’re pretty great.” 

You grabbed a couple discarded cans and hugged them to your chest as you double-checked that everything was picked up. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you looked conflicted. A crease sat between your brows, something worry-filled or upsetting, he couldn’t quite tell. Maybe he wasn’t as close with you as he was with the Wranglers, but his ever-growing feelings led to him becoming extra observant whenever he was around you. Subtleties in your actions were as big as wild gestures in his mind. 

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, not wanting to pry or overstep. 

You met his gaze for a second before you sighed. “I’m…I don’t really know.” 

He made a bold step forward, lessening the gap between you just slightly. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“You asked about James earlier,” you started, suddenly fascinated by the grass under your feet. “I lied.” 

“About what?” he scrunched his face in slight confusion. 

“He’s not out for work. We…we got into a fight, actually. A big one. He said he needed to cool off but…that was three days ago.” 

The confession caught Boone off guard. He nearly lost his balance. “O-Oh,” was all he could mutter. 

You let out a shaky laugh, but not a humorous one. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you continued. “It’s just…I haven’t really talked to anyone about it. And then you showed up and I…Well, I like talking to you.” 

Boone tried not to think about your words too hard, but his heart beat a little quicker inside his chest. He couldn’t muster up the right words before you started talking again. “You know the worst part about it? I’m not even that upset. I should be, right? If we were so in love, I should be upset that he walked out without even trying to talk things through. But I’m not. I should feel different, but I don’t. I don’t even miss him.” 

You groaned loudly and dropped down onto the old log that had been fashioned into a bench. You let the cans tumble into a pile on the grass as you held your head in your hands. “I’m sorry,” you rushed out. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Boone said, slowly lowering himself beside you. “You can’t really help how ‘ya feel, or so I’ve been told.” 

“We’ve been together for ages,” you sighed. “It should hurt but it doesn’t. I think we’ve just been, like, stuck and too scared to admit that things don’t feel the way they did back when we first got together.” 

Boone felt like he was treading into dangerous territory without proper equipment. Like he was barreling right into a twister without anything to keep him grounded. But he knew he couldn’t think of himself, he had to think of you. You were upset; he didn’t like that. He couldn’t fix it, but maybe he could offer some generic, Hallmark advice and it would be okay. 

“Maybe he does just need time to cool off,” Boone suggested. “Space isn’t always a bad thing, right?” 

You shrugged. “We’ve fought before, but this felt different. And if I’m being honest, I don’t know if I want him to come back.” 

Boone let out some air from his cheeks, unsure of what to say and unsure of what you wanted him to say. Luckily, you spoke before he had to come up with something. 

“Gosh, I’m sorry, again. You should get back to your friends. I’m just rambling.” You laughed nervously, standing up once more and recomposing yourself. But he noticed the way you brushed your hand under your eyes and ducked your head. 

“You should do whatever makes you happy,” Boone said, quietly. “If you're not happy with him then…you know…” 

You smiled softly and nodded, and Boone took that as his moment to leave. He hurried back to his home, his heart racing inside his chest underneath the moonlight. 

You chewed on your nails nervously, pacing your kitchen for what felt like the millionth time that morning. After sleeping on your split feelings to Boone, you felt a weight grow heavier and heavier on your chest, a crushing feeling that tried to break your bones every time you saw the storm chaser on his brief visits home. It was wrong, you knew that, to feel something towards someone else while in a committed relationship. You’d never act on them while dating your boyfriend, but you subconsciously found yourself thinking of Boone. 

For a while, you thought maybe it was just a rush of intense friendship that you hadn’t felt in ages, and you confused that with romantic feelings. But the less and less you and your boyfriend felt like a real couple, the more you started to think about Boone beyond the bounds of friendship. It was all fantasy, something to keep your heart occupied while your boyfriend drifted further from you each time you desperately tried to pull him back in. 

The truth was you weren’t working anymore. Whatever spark you’d both been trying to fan for years finally gave way and left you both cold. But for some reason, you both were scared to end the first real relationship you’d ever known. 

After your fight, the absence of your boyfriend didn’t make you miss him, it made you comfortable in the quietness of your home and your freedom. So, you made the call. After trying and failing to bring your relationship back from the dead, you called it off and he agreed with a heavy sigh full of relief. 

Your heart was still tender and jumping into another relationship right away wasn’t what you wanted, and spring was still young. Boone left with his team to finish out the rest of the season chasing, and you worked on yourself until you found yourself in a place much better and brighter than you’d ever been in before. You felt lighter, a newfound sense of life in your veins. 

Once the months started to turn into crisp breezes and shorter days, you found yourself on the front porch of Boone the day after he returned home. 

He swung open the door with a smile and polite, “Hey.” 

“Hi,” you greeted, pulling out something from behind your back. It was a small bouquet of flowers picked from the patch in your backyard. “These are for you.” 

He blinked in surprise. “For me?” Boone chuckled and took him with a carefulness, like he was scared the breeze would take them. “Why in the world are you bringin’ me flowers?” 

You couldn’t stop grinning; your cheeks hurt. “I came to ask you a real important question.” 

He looked beyond confused but nodded for you to continue. 

“Would you want to go on a date with me?” 

Boone looked like he had short-circuited, eyes bulging out of his head and body frozen for a stretch of time that made you start to second guess your bold proposal. It took several moments for him to shake himself loose and ask, “Are you serious?” 

You nodded, heart beating nervously against your chest. His face broke out in a grin almost as wide as yours had been and he lurched forward, picking you up by the waist and spinning you around in front porch light. You threw your head back laughing, nerves subsiding in a moment of bliss. 

He sat you down but kept his hands on your hips, a little breathless and shinning. “Hell yeah I wanna,” he replied, as if his reaction didn’t tell you everything you needed to know.

[stephsageek]

A preview of the Five x Lila one-shot I'm working on:

“Seriously?” she demanded.

“’Seriously’ what?” he deadpanned.

“Well, it’s Friday-bloody-night!”

“And?”

“Oi! What do you mean ‘and?’ You know damn well, I only get one night a month! One night where I make up an excuse to hang out, get out of the house, and let down my hair! And here you are, washing bloody dishes! Is that honestly all we’re going to be doing tonight?! I might as well be sitting in front of the telly watching the last of Diego’s brain cells die off while he watches Naked and Afraid!”

“What? You got a hot date with somebody else?” he quipped, tossing the towel he’d been using over his shoulder and opening a cabinet to his right. “Believe it or not, Lila, but I am not here on this planet to entertain you. You're the one who invites herself over just as an excuse to get out of the house--that has nothing to do with how I plan on spending my evening. A night of actual drinking and reading is plenty for me. I’m not the one living in a ‘domestic hellscape.’”

“Why do you have to be such an old man all the time?!” she whined.

“Maybe because I am an old man, crazy lady,” he replied, sounding unbothered, as he began to put dishes back into cabinets. Even with his back turned, Lila could hear the smile in his words. He thought this was funny!

“Believe me, I am more than aware,” she huffed.

“Don’t like it, toots, go darken somebody else’s doorstep for ‘book club,’ or whatever the hell other B.S. you feed that half-wit brother of mine,” Five snarked as he finished his chore.

He finally turned to face her, resting one hip against the counter. Lila noted he must have had a long day that day judging by the stubble along his jaw. And yet, despite his protests to the contrary, he didn't kick her out. If he didn't want her around bothering him, why give her his spare key? She watched him smile, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly in amusement. It was still strange seeing the signs of his advancing age. She’d gotten so used to him being so young that Lila found herself disconcerted to realize he was nearing physically twenty years old soon.

“C’mon, old man! Give a girl a break! I’m trapped in a bad episode of The Brady Brunch and Mr. Brady is a whiney sod!”

Five didn’t react other than to chuckle. He casually went over to another cabinet and retrieved a bottle of wine. He turned back to Lila and tipped the bottle, silently offering. She jutted her lip stubbornly. His smile widened. He turned back, returning with a bottle of scotch. He lifted his eyebrows invitingly.

Lila grinned and nodded.

Five nodded back, retrieved a pair of glasses, and went to get ice from the fridge while Lila continued with her diatribe. “I am trapped in a loveless marriage; I’m surrounded by needy people day in and day out! It’s nothing but an endless stream of carting around children, appeasing grumpy forgetful old people—no offense—”

“—None taken—”

“—trying to tune out gossipy aunties, and stroking an inept man-child’s ego! Five, I want to do something fun for a change! Something exciting! And my best and frankly only mate is a boring ass sexagenarian! Do you have any idea how sad that is?! That you of all people are the only one I look forward to seeing anymore! I love my kids and folks, sure; but it's not the same! You seriously don't have anything planned?”

Five shrugged looking non-plussed. Lila shook her head, dismayed.

“You’d think working as a time-traveling assassin and then as a government agent, you’d have developed a personality besides being annoying and uptight!”

Lila threw herself onto the table, her arms outstretched and her forehead landing on the hard surface with a knock.

She heard Five sit down across from her, patiently waiting. He sat her drink within her reach.

“Alright. I’ll bite; what did you have in mind?”

Lila turned her head slightly, peeking an eye out from between the heavy fringe of her bangs. “You’ll let me pick?”

Five sighed but smiled indulgently. “I suppose if I’m your only friend, than that means you’re my only friend too; I suppose I can be generous to somebody so pathetic as to call me of all people their friend.”

Lila sat up so quickly that Five flinched, drawing back ever so slightly in surprise.

She reached into her pocket and slapped a deck of cards on the table between them.

Five lifted an amused eyebrow. “Cards? And you call me old—”

“Not just cards, my dear man—poker!”

“Poker’s hardly what I’d call—”

“Oh! But I didn’t finish!” Lila wagged her finger, opening the cards and spreading them out on the table.

Five glanced down and reached across the space to pick out one of the jokers Lila had been searching for, removing it from the others and setting it aside.

“Oh? What’ll it be? Five-card draw?” He grinned ironically as Lila swatted at his fingers so she could dig out the other joker and set aside the ‘rules’ card. He continued. “Texas hold ‘em? Omaha?” Five took a long draw of his drink.

“Strip poker!”

Pfff!

Five expelled his drink, coughing into his fist after.

[rootedinrevisions]

Playing with Fire: Part 2

SUMMARY: You and Damian head back to the hotel

WARNINGS: SMUT. SPANKING. P IN V SEX.

WORD COUNT: 2.5K

PART 1

You enter the hotel room, the door closing softly behind you as you glance around the space. It’s quiet, dimly lit, with nothing but the hum of the air conditioning filling the silence. After the heat of the night, your heart is still racing, anticipation buzzing under your skin. You kick off your shoes and toss your bag on the chair, but your mind is on Damian—how his voice dropped when he said you were in for it, how his eyes darkened as he whispered in your ear, the low threat promising something more than a playful night of teasing.

You move toward the bed, slipping out of your jacket, and take a moment to catch your breath. As much as you'd pushed him, testing how far he would let you go, there was a part of you that knew you were the one who was losing control. The moment Damian had leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good,” a thrill had shot straight through you.

Now, waiting for him to get back feels torturous.

You pace for a few minutes, the weight of his shirt on your skin reminding you of the teasing that brought you here. The way his eyes followed your every move, the unspoken tension growing each time you pushed the limits just a little further. You pull back the covers of the bed and sit on the edge, legs crossed, every nerve in your body on high alert.

Minutes feel like hours, but finally, the door clicks open, and Damian steps inside. His expression is unreadable at first, a dark, focused look in his eyes as he locks the door behind him and tosses his bag to the floor. He doesn't say anything at first—just stares at you with the kind of intensity that makes you feel exposed, like he's stripping you bare with nothing but a glance.

He finally breaks the silence with a low, calm tone, “You’ve had a lot of fun tonight, haven’t you?”

You bite your lip, but don’t answer right away. The energy between you shifts, heavier now, as Damian takes a step closer. His eyes drift down, lingering on the shirt—the shirt you’d worn just to mess with him, to get under his skin. Then, they travel lower, past the hem of the mini skirt that left little to the imagination.

Before you can respond, he’s right in front of you, towering over the bed. Damian’s hands are on your knees, parting your legs with an effortless pull as he steps between them. His thumb grazes your thigh, and you shiver at the contact.

“You think you can just walk around like this, drive me crazy all night, and there won’t be consequences?” he murmurs, his voice deep and rough. You feel his fingers brush your bare skin beneath the skirt, but he stops just short of giving you what you want, pulling his hand away instead, leaving you aching for more.

You meet his gaze, heat coursing through you as you whisper, “And what if I want those consequences?”

A dark smile tugs at Damian’s lips. “Oh, you’ll get them,” he says, leaning in, his breath hot against your ear. “But don’t think for a second that you’re getting what you want right away.”

He pulls back, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches your reaction. “You’ve been teasing me all night,” he continues, his fingers ghosting over your thigh again, “but that’s over now. No more games. I’m the one in control.”

You swallow hard, the anticipation building between you. Every brush of his hand is calculated, deliberate—just enough to drive you crazy but not enough to give you relief. Damian leans in closer, his lips barely grazing your neck, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“I told you,” he breathes against your skin, “fucking is a reward. And you haven’t earned it.”

Damian’s words hang in the air between you. His voice, low and commanding, ignites something within you, but it’s the restraint he’s showing that drives you wild. You’d expected him to lose control the moment he stepped into the room after all your teasing, but now, you’re beginning to realize—he’s been holding back this entire time. He’s in control, and he’s going to make sure you understand just how far out of your league you are tonight.

Damian’s fingers continue to hover dangerously close to where you want them, his touch infuriatingly light, making you hyperaware of every inch of your body. He brushes his thumb over your thigh again, just enough pressure to tease but not enough to satisfy. You shift slightly under his gaze, your legs parted as his hand lingers, but Damian smirks and pulls back.

“Patience,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours. “You’ve been playing with fire all night. Now you’ll wait until I decide you’ve had enough.”

You bite your lip, frustrated but aching for more. Damian steps back, his tall frame looming over you, and folds his arms across his chest. The confidence in his stance only makes him more irresistible. He’s watching you, studying you like a predator does its prey, enjoying the way you squirm under the weight of his gaze.

“Take off the skirt,” he says suddenly, his voice calm but authoritative.

Your breath catches in your throat. The directness of his command leaves no room for argument. Slowly, you rise from the bed, standing in front of him. His eyes never leave yours, but you can feel the intensity of his attention, the weight of it, as you slip your hands down to the hem of the mini skirt.

You hesitate for just a moment, teasing him the way you had been all night, but Damian’s lips curl into a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t make me ask twice,” he warns, his voice dripping with a quiet threat that sends a shiver through you.

With a deep breath, you slide the skirt down your hips, letting it drop to the floor. You step out of it, standing before him in nothing but his oversized shirt, and Damian’s gaze sweeps over you, his dark eyes devouring every inch of your exposed skin.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, the praise sending heat rushing through you, but there’s still an edge to his voice that makes it clear you’re not in the clear just yet.

You reach for the buttons of his black dress shirt, ready to continue stripping down, but Damian steps forward, catching your wrist in his hand. His grip is firm but not painful, a reminder of his control.

“I didn’t say you could take that off.”

You swallow hard, the anticipation building inside you as he takes his time, dragging this out, making you wait for his next move. He leans in close again, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You don’t get to decide when this ends. I do.”

Damian’s hand finds your hip, his grip possessive as he guides you back onto the bed. You lay back, watching as he moves over you, his presence overwhelming, his gaze never leaving yours. He trails his fingers lightly up your thigh again, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you, but he doesn’t rush. He’s methodical, making you feel every second of his control.

“You thought you could tease me all night and get away with it?” he asks, his voice dark and smooth. His fingers slip higher, brushing dangerously close to where you need him most, but again, he pulls back, just short of giving you what you want. “I don’t think so.”

He leans down, his lips hovering just above yours, teasingly close, but not quite touching. “You’re going to have to earn it,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. “And I’m going to enjoy watching you try.”

Your body trembles beneath him, the tension between you at its peak. You want to move, to pull him closer, to take what you’ve been craving all night, but you know that Damian’s not going to let you. Not yet.

He’s going to take his time, drag out every second, until you’re begging for him. Something he knows you don’t like to do.

“You want it?” Damian asks, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as his fingers dance just on the edge of your waistband, toying with you. “Then tell me how much you want it.”

When you don’t respond, a low chuckle comes from Damian’s chest. You feel goosebumps on your skin. You’re not sure if your silence helped or hurt your current situation.

You can feel the heat radiating from Damian as he hovers above you, teasing you with every soft touch and lingering kiss. His control is undeniable, the way he’s holding back and savoring every moment of your frustration. But you can sense the shift in him now—his restraint is beginning to slip. His gaze darkens as his hands tighten their grip on your hips, and there’s a spark in his eyes that tells you your teasing has finally caught up with you.

Suddenly, without warning, Damian flips you over, his hands guiding you firmly onto your stomach. Before you have time to react, you feel the sharp, sudden sting of his hand coming down on your bare ass. The impact sends a jolt through you, heat rushing to your skin, but before you can process the sensation, another smack follows. It’s firm but controlled, each strike sending a clear message—this is your punishment for pushing him all night.

"That," Damian growls, his voice rough as his hand comes down again, "is for testing me."

His hand lingers on your flushed skin, his fingers brushing lightly over the spots where he spanked you, the tenderness making you shiver. You let out a small whimper, but Damian just chuckles, a dark, satisfied sound.

He leans down so his lips brush against your ear. “You thought you could get away with teasing me like that?”

You bite your lip, unable to respond, the combination of pain and pleasure making it hard to focus on anything but the throbbing warmth spreading across your skin.

"I warned you," Damian continues, his voice low and commanding. "But you didn’t listen."

He delivers one last, firm spank before his hand slips lower, soothing the heated skin with a gentle touch. “Now,” he murmurs, his tone softening but still holding that edge of control, “you’ve had your punishment. I think it’s time for your reward.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, anticipation building inside you. You hear him shift behind you, his weight settling on the bed as he leans in close again, pressing his body against yours. “Tell me,” he whispers, his voice a low growl. “What do you want your prize to be?”

Your breath catches as his fingers brush against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his touch light and teasing again, but this time you know he won’t hold back for long. Your mind races, but before you can even respond, Damian’s lips are on your neck, kissing the sensitive skin there, his hand inching higher, finally giving you just a taste of what you’ve been craving.

“I need you,” you breathe, barely able to form the words, your body aching for him. “I want you.”

Damian smirks against your skin, clearly satisfied with your answer. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice dark and filled with promise. “Because I’m going to give you exactly what you’ve been asking for all night long, Cariño.”

With that, he pulls back, his hands gripping your hips up off the bed as he positions you beneath him. The anticipation is almost unbearable as you feel him hovering over you, his body warm and solid against your back. He takes his time, letting you feel the weight of his presence before finally, with a firm, deliberate movement, he pushes inside you.

The sensation is overwhelming, and you gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets as Damian sets a steady, powerful rhythm. He’s not holding back anymore, every movement controlled but intense, his hips slamming against yours as you take what he’s been holding back all night.

“You wanted this,” Damian growls in your ear, his breath hot against your skin as his hands tighten on your hips, pulling you closer with every thrust. “Now you’re going to take it.”

His pace quickens, each movement more deliberate than the last, and the room fills with the sound of your labored breathing and the slap of skin against skin. Damian’s grip on you is unrelenting, his dominance palpable with every thrust, every breathless command he whispers in your ear.

The tension between you builds, every moment pushing you closer to the edge until you can’t take it anymore. You can feel Damian’s control slipping too, his breathing ragged as he drives into you with increasing intensity. The pleasure builds and builds, until it’s almost too much to bear.

“Tell me you’re mine,” Damian demands, his voice rough and strained as he leans down, his lips brushing against your neck again. “Say it.”

You can barely form words, but somehow you manage to whisper, “I’m yours.”

The second the words leave your lips, Damian’s movements become even more urgent, his hands gripping you tighter as he pushes you both closer to the edge. The pressure builds until, finally, you feel yourself shatter beneath him, your entire body trembling as waves of pleasure crash over you.

Damian follows soon after, his breath hot and heavy against your skin as he lets go, his body tensing as he finds his release. He stays there for a moment, his body pressed against yours, before slowly pulling back, his hand trailing gently over your flushed skin as you both catch your breath.

The room is quiet now, the only sound the soft rise and fall of your breathing as Damian pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you from behind. His grip is firm but comforting, a reminder of the control he had over you moments before, but now softened by the tenderness of the aftermath.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs again, this time softer, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “Don’t forget that.”

You smile, still breathless, and snuggle back into his embrace, the warmth of his body against yours soothing the lingering tension from the night’s events. It’s only then that you realize just how much you’d craved not just the pleasure, but the sense of safety that Damian’s control brought you.

And with that, you drift off to sleep, knowing that whatever comes next, Damian will always be in control—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dedicated to my bestie and resident Damian Priest lover @caramara3

[shy-writer-999]

hm… any thoughts on who’d do something like orgasm denial or overstimulation on their s/o as “punishment” for like, not taking proper care of themself/getting hurt/trying to sacrifice themself/etc? and maybe what that’d entail?

I think we need more of dom Sanji … so this is what I have for u. I was initially thinking Zoro and Ace but I have written sooooo much for them the past couple weeks so let’s mix it up! see below the cut for what i came up with. idk what to call it but its like 700 words (๑>◡<๑) also i read through it once or twice so it is far from perfect -- plz excuse any typos for the moment! if you were hoping for someone else, send smth to my inbox for my pseudo-kinktober thingy and i can cook something up...

---

It had been a long, rough, and scary day. You almost got yourself killed by your own careless mistake, and you were in denial about how close it was. After Chopper cleaned up your wounds, you slinked back to your room and sat on the bed, mulling over what happened just a few hours ago.

When Sanji knocked on the door softly, he told you how worried he was about you, how sick he felt the whole time, and how relieved he felt seeing your face after such a long time. He kissed every part of you that he could, peppering you with kisses and treating you like you were something precious.

After a couple hours of cuddling and sweetness, you ended up with blond hair tickling your face and deep groans rumbling in your ears. Sanji’s cock dragged over your g-spot countless times—you were in bliss, about to let go and give into the euphoric fervor of your climax. It felt so good to be back in your beloved’s arms, even better now that his cock was buried deep inside.

“S-sanji, ‘m gonna cum, keep going.”

He froze.

“C’mon baby,” he growled in your ear, feeling your walls pulse and constrict around his cock, but staying completely still. “You think I’m just gonna let you cream on my cock after what you pulled today? Almost getting yourself killed?”

“Sanjiii please, I want it” you pouted and whined, trying to move your hips to no avail. He brought a hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m being serious, gorgeous.” His tone was stern and all the lust in it seemed to disappear. “Never put yourself in danger like that again. You don’t know how fucking worried sick I was. Never play with my heart like that again.”

You frowned. “Sanji, I won’t. Now move.”

“Listen to me. I’m not going to move until I’ve gotten through your thick skull. Never put yourself in harm’s way again. Repeat it back to me.”

Your voice strained. You were starting to get desperate—he was just sitting inside of you not doing anything. It was going to drive you crazy. You had a shit day and just wanted him to fuck the pain away. “I promise I won’t ever put myself in harm’s way again, Sanji. I promise.” The pleasure and need were getting to your head, you’d do anything he said at this point.

“Never?”

You shook your head and glared up at him. “Never.”

“Now tell me how bad you want it.” He smirked and you complied, shamelessly.

“I want it Sanji. Please. Need your cock in me so bad.”

When he decided you’d begged enough, Sanji pulled out of you slowly and plunged back in. He fucked you hard and angled his tip so it pressed on your sensitive spot with each thrust. He rubbed your clit so much that you came within a few minutes, but he wanted to get his fill, so he kept fucking you.

“’s too much Sanji,” your eyes rolled back in your head, and you were shaking from the overstimulation.

“Too much? That’s what you get. That’s what you get for putting yourself in harms way. Do you understand?”

You nodded furiously and didn’t say anything else. The only sounds that left your lips were moans and mewls for him. The overstimulation was overwhelming, but he made it feel so good. Anything he did with his cock was mind-blowing, toe-curling magic.

By the time Sanji came in you, you had absolutely no clue what was going on. The pleasure whisked you away somewhere, but you were brought back to reality by his kisses.

“Good job my love. Don’t forget what you promised me, okay?”

“Mhm, Sanji. I won’t forget. I promise.”

He petted your head then asked you if you wanted to cum again, and of course you said yes.

[tragedy-of-commons]

Congrats on 200 followers!!! You deserve everything with how much you’ve made me giggle with your stories!🎉

For your 200 followers event? May I request; Dan Heng + “Let’s meet again, in our next life…” + romantic + angst (I’m not sure if you accept the genre)

I think I’m gonna go crazy with how much angst and fluff I consume in a day

"Let's meet again, in our next life..."

It's a nice sentiment. It really is.

It also just so happened to be the best thing you could come up with, considering you're too focused on the stuttering breaths and tremors wracking Dan Heng's form. He must find it insulting, really, that you'd bring up his disposition like this, but you don't know if he can even hear you at all right now.

The storm normally brewing behind his eyes is replaced by a glazed sheen that you desperately want to remedy. You can barely find it in yourself to speak, words slurring together and becoming lost in the whiplash of the tears and shock. But you keep going. That's about all you can do.

"You--you always said I'd make a good professional nuisance. Well, that one time, anyway - I laughed so hard you didn't talk to me for two days," you ramble, threading your fingers through his matted hair. Your fingernails are caked in red, and it probably doesn't feel good in the slightest, but he doesn't even tense.

Dan Heng is still.

You sniffle, words garbled. "M-Maybe I'll peddle something door-to-door... like vacuum cleaners. Shitty ones that don't even come with a handheld and break right after the warranty expires. You'll o-open your door one day, and sparks will fly all over again."

This hypothetical scene you'd normally be pitching to him over a hearty breakfast or under the twinkling stars doesn't make either of you laugh. Instead you feel bile crawl up the length of your esophagus, threatening to spew with the rest of your guts if you persist with this poor charade.

"Or maybe you'll slam the door in my face. I don't know what could happen," you admit, because of course you don't. You don't know anything else but Dan Heng's nauseatingly cold skin and clammy hands.

There's a small number of people in this universe that will accept you. There's an even smaller number of people who will love you, that will let you inside their heart, no matter how much of a professional nuisance you may be. Finally, there's an infinitesimal amount of people - really just one - who will let you love them in return, despite it all.

And he has just slipped right through the gaps of your fingers.

"Even if you do," you hiccup violently, biting your tongue until you taste iron, "I'll stand out there all night until you recognize me."

There's no response except the buzzing of cicadas, tapping on the soft spot right between your eyes in a dull ache that hurts so bad you can't breathe.

If that's a good or bad thing, it doesn't matter; Dan Heng is not here to soothe the pain with mild-mannered but gentle platitudes. Dan Heng is not here to squeeze your hand back as you try in vain to keep up the one-sided effort.

You are alone, even as you sweep away his bloodied knot of bangs, leaning forward to press your quivering lips against his forehead tenderly.

"You k-know I would," you plead, whispering against his eyebrows and mangled nose, a tiny part of you still holding out for a sign that he's still with you - that he understands how much you love him, even if you didn't say it as much as you should've. "Dan Heng..."

Those three little words are on the tip of your tongue, foreign. It feels like an insult, knowing he won't be able to hear them. Even so, you choke the syllables out, actualizing years of subtle acts of service and inside jokes and wonderful chemistry that you'll never get to share with him again. Cradling your best friend and only treasure, you weep.

When you're torn from his side by first responders, clawing and gasping in abject hysteria, you struggle further, begging anyone who will listen not to take him away. You know he's already gone, you see it in the stiffness of his shoulders as you're dragged away, but you need him. You need Dan Heng, and you need him in not just the next life, but in this one too.

Time passes by in an unpleasant blur, reminiscent of a slideshow. Between clicks, whole days bleed into one another. You feel like you're slathered with monochrome and grayscale while stood against a background teeming with color, terribly out of place and clashing with your surroundings.

Click, you're standing in one place, and then you're not.

Click, you're lying down, only somewhat aware that if you turn over on your side, you'll be met with the barren right side of the bed. Click, you're mulling over flower arrangements and funerary rites without a hint of life in your voice.

Time has never been on Dan Heng's side, you know that for certain. He'd confided in you a few times - in whispers over poorly brewed coffee and in the middle of chaste kisses - that he may never be truly free from the shackles of his past.

Even so, you love him. You'll love him for the rest of your life, and hopefully, all throughout your next one as well. If not, you hope, with all of your shared memories at your back, that Dan Heng will find peace in his next incarnation.

You, however, won't be finding peace until you show up soliciting on his doorstep, peddling those shitty vacuum cleaners.

Until then, you suppose, choking on your tears of yearning.

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren, @synqiri

a/n: did i cry a few times while writing this one? yes. are you evil for forcing me to do this? yes. did i absolutely love every second of it? yes. by the same token, i'm glad i've made you giggle, anon! <3 loved this prompt.

event post here

[nomie-11]

Chapter 10 - Shifting Tides

<- previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter ->

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“Soo, Sawyer, huh, Rhi?” Violet starts as the three of them walk down their new dorm. First year dorms may be the smallest private dorms on campus, but damn, all Genevieve could think was that was the best night sleep of her life. 

“I felt like celebrating,” She said, and Genevieve whistled. 

“You didn’t think to ask me first?” She says, her words light as a small smile comes on her face. 

“You have enough on your plate, sex wise,” Rhiannon said, teasing Genevieve. “And why have I not heard of you celebrating?”  She asks Violet. “Ridoc definitely has a thing for you, not emotionally just physically, and Liam has a thing for you emotionally.” 

“Liam? Liam Mairi? You’re insane.” Violet says, waving her off. “And either way, if he wants to celebrate with me, he’s going to have to ask first.” 

Genevieve and Rhiannon laugh, and she giggles too, a blush on her cheeks. 

“Good morning, Ladies.” Ridoc says, forcing his way through the crowd and slinging an arm around their shoulders as they enter the dining hall. “Or should I say, riders.”

“I like the sound of riders,” Rhiannon replies, shooting a smile in his direction. 

“It has a certain ring to it,” Ridoc agrees. 

“It definitely sounds better than dead.” Genevieve says, her voice serious but the tone implicates a tease. 

“Where’s your relic?” Violet asks, used to ignoring the awful offhand comments Genevieve makes. 

“Right here,” He says, his arm falling off of their shoulders as he rolls his sleeve of his tunic up to reveal the brown silhouette of a dragon on his upper arm. “You?” 

“Can’t see it. It’s on my back.” Ridoc whistles, and he spins to face Rhiannon. 

“And you? What about yours, Rhi?” 

“Somewhere you’ll never see,” She responds, and he laughs. 

“You wound me.” He slaps a hand over his heart. 

“I highly doubt that,” she retorts, but there's a smile on her face. The group moves through the hall into the line for breakfast. 

“And Genevieve?” He asks Rhiannon, completely bypassing asking Genevieve who he knows isn’t paying attention. 

“On her back,” Rhiannon says. “It’s crazy looking. Her rebellion relic mixes with her dragon relic. It’s insane.” 

As they make their way through the line, Genevieve’s mind is elsewhere. It feels as if the energy in the dining hall has shifted. It’s different now. 

“Asshole,” Ridoc mutters in a context Genevieve hasn’t heard. “I still can’t believe they tried to kill you.” 

“I can,” Violet shrugged, taking her chances with a maybe poisoned mug of apple juice. “I’m the weakest link, right? Unfortunately for me, that means people are bound to try and take me out of the wing.” 

“I don’t even know what you’re saying, but they’d have to kill me first,” Genevieve says, taking a bite out of her own apple. As they walk to the fourth wing section of the cafeteria, they find a table and only three extra seats. 

“Mind if we—” Ridoc starts. 

“Absolutely! It’s yours!” A couple of guys from Tail Section scurry off the bench. 

“Sorry, Hale!” The other says over his shoulder as they find another table. 

What the fuck?

“Well, that was really fucking weird.” Rhiannon rounds the other side of the table, and Genevieve sits on the other side as Violet follows. 

“Even weirder?” Ridoc remarks, gesturing across the hall toward First Wing. 

The girls follow his line of sight, and their eyebrows lift. Jack Barlowe is being squeezed out of his table. He’s forced to stand as others take a seat. 

“What the hell is going on?” Rhiannon bites into a pear and chews. Jack moves again, and then again.

”Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Ridoc notes, watching the same show they all are. There’s no satisfaction in their view, everyone knows feral dogs bite harder when they’re cornered. 

“Hey, Hale,” the stocky girl from First Wing I beat in my second challenge says with a tight smile as she walks past our table. 

“Hey,” she says, nodding her head, but then she turns to face Rhiannon. “That girl hasn’t spoken one word to me since I threatened her hair when she beat up Violet.”

“It’s because you bonded Tairn.” Imogen blows her pink hair out of her face and throws her leg over the bench. She sits, pushing the sleeves up from her tunic. “The morning after Threshing is always a clusterfuck. Power balance shifts, and you, little Hale, are now the most powerful rider in the quadrant. If they weren’t scared before they’re definitely scared now.” 

She blinks, her pulse elevating. Is that what is going on? Social groups have split, but it still doesn’t make sense-

“Which is why you’re sitting with us now?” Rhiannon arches a brow at the second-year. “Because I can count on one hand the number of nice words you’ve said to any of us.” She holds up a fist with zero fingers raised. 

Genevieve glances around the table, to the seconds years, Quinn and Imogen, and to Sawyer who has finally arrived. Imogen is cool and Quinn is cool as well, but this was strange. Genevieve’s eyes glance at the patches on their jackets, but she doesn’t know what any of it means. She knows that her patches mean Flame Section, Fourth Wing, First Year, and now also Iron Squad. 

“You weren’t interesting enough to sit with before, and now you’ve survived Threshing, so you’re worth it.” Imogen responds as she bites into a muffin. Suddenly the third years in their section sit down too, and Genevieve almost chokes on the apple she’s been nursing the entirety of breakfast. 

“My dragon is not that cool, if that's what you’re looking for,” She says, biting her tongue from saying anything mean. 

“I take immediate offense to that,” Tairn huffs. “Now eat something more than an apple and get over your fear that Oren has poisoned you.” 

“I’m not eating the food on my plate,” Genevieve counters. “It’s definitely poisoned.” 

“We aren’t looking for your dragon,” Imogen says, her voice strong. “We’re looking for you, because now you’re under our watch. Now eat your food.”

Genevieve looks bewildered, but she doesn’t say a single thing. 

“You’re the Iron Squad, and you and Violet both have some crazy dragons on your tail. That means eyes are on you from every direction. A huge red target is painted on your back.” Her voice is low, but it cuts through the clamor of the hall. “And whether you like it or not, this balance isn’t going to change any time soon, so get used to it.” 

Genevieve glances at Rhiannon, confusion evident on her face. 

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.” She says, her words biting and strong. 

“Oh, Xaden didn’t tell you?” She says, a sly smile on her face. “Tairn and Sgaeyl are mated, so even though your relic isn’t on your arm, you’re one of us now.”

“Oh shit,” Ridoc whispers, and Violet nods her head in agreement. 

“You’re in our squad now.” 

—————————————-

Violet had explained to Genevieve that mated dragons aren’t common, not even by a long shot, and to let mated dragons bond riders in different years was unheard of, but dragons do what dragons want, as exemplified by Violet. 

She explained that Xaden and Genevieve themselves are now binded, their lives intertwined in some sick curse that ties their fate with a little red string. When one dies, the other dies, when one gets hurt, the other feels it, when one feels another strong emotion, the other feels the emotion. She was never alone with Tairn now, but not only was Tairn in her head, Xaden was too. 

“Stop thinking so hard and get on my back, we have maneuvers to master,” Tairn grumbled, his voice low. She mounted his back, and found her seat easily. 

“Were you planning on telling me? That you and Sgaeyl were mated?” She asked over the bond, her mind distracted from her actions. 

“Sgaeyl had assured me that the wingleader would tell you, and that I shouldn’t worry about it,” He said, his tone grumpy like it usually was. “I see now that he did not, and I should stop trusting that wingleader.” 

“You don’t like Xaden?” She asked, as they took off, following second behind Professor Kaori, who Tairn had said he would only follow because he was Genevieve’s professor. 

“I don’t like the boy,” Tairn huffed. “But Sgaeyl loves him, so I won’t char him. Maybe I’ll lightly toast him.” 

“You shouldn’t set him on fire anyways, he’s an asset,” She said quickly, ignoring the blush rising on her cheeks. Genevieve cast another glance down at Violet, a few dragons back. Andarna didn’t come, Violet flew on Atrape alone.  “What’s the deal with Violet and Atrape?” Genevieve asked, quickly diverting the conversation away from Xaden and onto Violet. “She looks like she can’t hold her seat.” 

“She can’t,” Tairn replies, banking left, following Kaori into the canyons. “Atrape is one of the strongest dragons in the vale, maybe third to Codagh and I. Her powers are keeping Violet in that seat.” 

“Shouldn’t she be saving her powers, for…” Genevieve trailed off, not knowing how to verbalize what she wanted to say. “…combat?”

“Stop asking meaningless questions,” Tairn huffed, his annoyance evident in every word that was communicated in their bond. “Atrape has more power in her than most other dragons could even imagine having. She will be fine.” 

And Genevieve nodded, who was she to argue with a dragon, an all-mighty, all-knowing being. The dragon that had chosen her. She was not one to argue. Her grip tightened on Tairn’s back as the cool rush of wind from the canyon blew against her hot skin. She knew better than to press Tairn when he was already somewhat irritated, but she wanted to know how Violet was keeping her seat. 

As they neared the sharp turns of the canyon, Genevieve let the questions go, her focus snapping to the task at hand. Flight training was brutal, she couldn’t afford a lapse in concentration. Train’s powerful wings sliced through the air as they banked hard left, narrowly avoiding the jagged cliffs that seemed to rise out of nowhere. Kaori’s dragon led the pack, weaving through the narrow paths with ease. She could sense Tairn’s irritation at following anyone, but for some reason, it felt as if he cared enough about her to swallow his pride. 

Behind her, the presence of a struggling Violet claws at her mind. 

Be quiet, Geneiveve, She chastised herself. Violet is your friend. She’s trying. Be nice. 

“I didn’t know nice was in your vocabulary,” Train huffed. “Now focus.” 

“I am!” She shot back, adjusting her posture as they approached a narrow pass. The jagged rocks below glinted dangerously in the sunlight, promising death to anyone who made the wrong move. 

As they passed the gap, her eyes flicked back to Violet, who was struggling more visibly now. Atrape’s wings beat with precise power, but there was something off about the way Violet held herself in the saddle. She was slipping, her body tense and rigid, as if each move was a desperate attempt to stay upright. Geneiveve knew that look–the look of someone who was fighting for control, not just over their dragon, but over themselves. 

“She’s going to fall,” Genevieve muttered over the bond, her heart skipping a beat. 

“She won’t,” Train replied, his voice steady but cold. “Atrape won’t let her.” 

Kaori signaled the next maneuver–a sharp dive into a winding ravine, followed by an immediate ascent. Genevieve could feel the pressure in her chest as Tairn obeyed, plunging toward the ground with a terrifying speed that left her stomach in knots. 

As they pulled up, her breath caught in her throat as Tairn shot off. He was so fast. The wind in her hair was so freeing. 

“You ready?” Train asked, his voice taking on a sharper edge. 

“Always.”

With a swift movement, they dove into the loops, Train’s wings angling perfectly to guide them through the tight spaces. Genevieve felt every shift, every beat in sync with her movements. They were seamless, an extension of each other. The world blurred around her as they cut through the air, the adrenaline pumping through her veins. 

But out of the corner of her eye, she saw something. Violet, behind her, struggling more than ever. Atrape’s wings fell, just for a split second, and Genevieve knew–knew deep in her heart–that Violet wasn’t going to make it through the next turn.

“Violet!” She shouted, the sound swallowed by the rush of wind, her heart lurching. 

She felt the tug of the bond, Xaden’s awareness surging into her thoughts. He felt it too, the fear, the instinct to protect. But Genevieve couldn’t let herself be distracted by that–by him. 

“Leave it!” Train barked, sensing her instinct to intervene. 

Genevieve hesitated, her grip tightening as the next loop approached. She had to make a decision. Focus on the maneuver, or–

Atrape dipped down, grabbing Violet with her claws and tossing her back into her seat. 

“Thank the gods,” Genevieve whispered, her own heart racing as if she was the one who fell. 

“Look at you, you have emotions!” Train laughed. 

“Oh, shut up!”

—————————————

“Were you planning on-” her shin came into contact with the punching bag she was using. “never telling me that our dragons are mated?” 

Xaden’s eyes were dead set onto her body under the guise of watching her train. Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen, Liam, and a few other rebellion kids were in the gym. As Genevieve’s eyes cast over the room, her eyes narrowed on Violet. 

“And why is Imogen training Violet?” Her other leg made contact strongly, but she was distracted, so she stumbled back. 

“I was going to tell you, I was just waiting for…” he trailed off, his words lost on an already angry Genevieve. 

“No you weren’t. You were going to wait for me to ask like always,” she snapped. Her eyes held so much rage, Xaden could feel the flames of anger engulfing him. “Did you manipulate Threshing?” Her voice was a dangerous whisper. “Did you tell Sgaeyl to bond me so we would be linked together?”

“Of course not!” He immediately responded. “This is the worst case scenario, I do not want to be linked to you.”

Genevieve’s expression narrowed, her body going rigid with tension. Her expression darkened as she took a step closer to Xaden, the sheen of her sweat glistening under the mage lights, but her focus was far from the physical exertion of training. “Worst case scenario?” She repeated, her words venomous. “So being bound to me is so repulsive that it’s your worst case scenario?”

Xaden ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching with tension as the weight of his own words sank in. 

“Gen, that’s not what I meant and you know it,” his voice softened, trying to ease the fire that radiated off of Genevieve. “This bond just complicates things—everything. You know that.”

She scoffed, eyes flicking between him and the rest of the room. The rebellion kids continued their sparring, laughter mingling with the sharp sound of fists hitting targets, completely unaware of the storm brewing between them. Violet had slowed her movements, however, casting a glance in their direction. It only fueled Genevieve’s resentment.

Genevieve’s fingers curled into fists, her knuckles whitening with the force of her anger. She took another deliberate step toward Xaden, her voice low and cutting, barely concealing the fury beneath the surface. “Complicates things for you, you mean.” Her eyes narrowed further, the tension in her muscles betraying her desire to his something—maybe even someone. “Because Gods forbid you have to deal with the consequences of anything outside your control.”

Xaden’s jaw tensed as he fought to keep his composure, but Genevieve’s words hit home. He’d always prided himself on control—of his dragon, his squad, his emotions—and now, it was unraveling. Genevieve, with her endless need for vengeance, her relentless drive, and now their unwanted bond, was the epicenter of that chaos. She was the reason. 

“I didn’t choose this,” he said firmly, his voice edged with frustration. “Do you think I wanted Tairn to bond with you? This is as much of a shock to me as it is to you.” His faze flickered away briefly, landing on Violet again, who had now fully paused her training to watch. That momentary distraction only inflamed Genevieve’s temper further. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. She advanced again, her proximity forcing Xaden to meet her eyes. “This isn’t about the bond alone. This is about trust. This is about the fact that you kept this from me. That you decided what I should or shouldn’t know, like you always do.” 

Xaden’s face hardened. “I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. I was trying to figure out the details of it, how to handle it before—”

“Before what?” Genevieve’s voice rose now, drawing the attention of the others in the gym. Xaden’s group of friends in the training gym paused, sensing the rising tensions. “Before you thought it was convenient to share? Or were you hoping I wouldn’t notice the massive life-altering detail until it was too late for me to get angry?” 

Liam, sensing the explosive energy in the room, began walking toward them, his easy grin faltering, but Garrick held him back, shaking his head with an easy ‘no’. Imogen and Bodhi exchanged glances, but they stayed in place. Violet’s eyes lingered, her posture tense, though she hadn’t moved. 

Xaden stepped closer to Genevieve now, his voice lowered but charged with intensity. “I was waiting until I could tell you in a way that didn’t—”

“Make you look like the selfish bastard you are?” Genevieve interjected harshly, her words hitting with the force of a blow. Her body was shaking, but not from the fatigue. It was from the rage she’d been suppressing since Imogen told her news that Xaden should have said in private. Since she’d realized that Xaden, despite everything they’d shared, still decided to withhold something so vital. 

He flinched, a flash of regret crossing his face, but he didn’t retreat. “You know that’s not true,” he said quickly, but with conviction. “You know I never wanted this, but I didn’t want to make it worse either.”

”Worse?” Genevieve spat, her eyes blazing. “There is no ‘worse,’ Xaden. They’re dragons that bind our fate down to our own deaths and you let Imogen, someone who is practically a stranger, tell me? Instead of facing it and telling me you ran. You ran from me, from this, from everything.” 

For a moment, the silence between them was deafening. The others in the gym held their breaths, waiting for the explosion. Genevieve’s breaths came in ragged gasps as she glared at him, waiting for him to say something—anything—that would justify his actions. But Xaden remained still, his expression unreadable as he weighed his next words carefully. 

“I didn’t run,” he said finally, his voice like a storm on the horizon—low, dark, and gathering strength. “I’m here, aren’t I? Fighting for us, for whatever the hell this bond means.” 

Genevieve’s gaze hardened further, but something flickered beneath her fury. His words had struck a chord, and for a brief second, she felt the weight of his own burdens, his fears. But it wasn’t enough to douse the fire inside her. 

“And yet,” she whispered, stepping back, the space between them feeling like a chasm, “you keep pushing me away. Every time I get close, every time there’s a chance for something between us that isn’t just physical, you shut down. You keep your secrets, your plans, and now even this from me.”

The gym was still now, the air thick with unspoken tension. Everyone was watching, waiting for the next move. But Genevieve didn’t care. She was done playing his games, done being a pawn in a world of half-truths and manipulations. 

“Maybe being bound to you really is the worst-case scenario,” she said bitterly, her voice cold as ice. “Because I don’t think I can trust you anymore.”

The mage light above her blew out in a craze of sparks and glitter, and it felt like her skin was on fire with… magic. 

“Day one of dragon bonds,” Imogen started, awe laced into the sarcasm she normally carried. 

“And Genevieve is already channeling.” Violet finished. 

And with that, she turned on her heel, leaving the gym and a stunned silence in her wake, her anger radiating like heat off her skin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello everyone! What’s up? I’ve currently written a few chapters ahead so I can keep updating twice a week for at least a few weeks, so hopefully this new schedule makes you all happy!

On another note, I just wanted to say thank you for all of your words of appreciation and your compliments, I seriously cannot believe you guys actually read what I write and for you to tell me how much you love it makes me so happy I want to cry.

Please, like and comment if you enjoyed and please let me know your thoughts! What’re your predictions on her signet? I want to know~

[alanaartdream]

I think @cubbihue and @katescribblesabit are some of my favourite fairy Timmy aus out there atm (heck giving ideas to my own fairy Timmy au (although mine I’m adding in more to do with Jimmy Tommy power hour and nicktoons unite games (I use to love watching YouTubes of those games like crazy heck I managed to get the 1st to to play with my siblings but it was 2nd hand glitch copy of the first in the series of games that series did so it would take forever to load at times but was fun game)

If they ever bring those games to the switch I’d play them for sure; thanks to the jimmy Timmy power hour series doing so well the games were a great hit and the games were so popular that quite a few were created and more characters would get added in the more popular the games got the last in the series was the one we’re Invader zim & dib or was it globs of doom one? Not sure ended up watching YouTubers do those (was more watching for the cut scenes of those games at the time)

Anywho back to my own fairy Timmy Au I could see Wanda’s sister Blonda coming over to patch up her relationship with Wanda and being a fun aunt to Peri/poof and Timmy once Timmy gets fairy adopted

But schnozmo not sure how good of a uncle he’ll be being he’s a bit of a conman

(Timmy wouldn’t forget how he tried to trick Cosmo out of a lot of things the last time they met aaannnddd I know Jimmy and the nicktoons gang wouldn’t trust him too much either

I feel like now that Timmy is a fairy would hang out at Jimmy’s a lot when not in fairyworld being as Timmy as a fairy wouldn’t see anything from his old life in the human realm part of his own universe but being as the nicktoons unite characters are all from different universes Timmy can still hang out with them;; although Jimmy has met the people in Timmy’s old human life and to be honest they didn’t appreciate Timmy when they had him so they kinda deserve to suffer a little now that they’ve lost him (Timmy’s birth parents most of all) because before he found out Timmy was turned into a fairy he did get to see how ignorant Timmy’s friends AJ & Chester seem to be to the neglect & abuse Timmy was going through from his parents/ babysitter and cocker but just seem to ignore it heck didn’t even try to help out when Timmy was getting bullied on top of that; think the only one Jimmy would feel mostly sorry for is maybe Toothie (although he had to admit her love of Timmy kinda bothered on creepy at times) it was only when Timmy was truly gone from their lives do any of them realise what they’ve lost so he’s not gonna let anyone from Timmy’s old life know what happened to him for sure;; Jimmy doesn’t trust them anymore

Think it’s not until years later when poof becomes Peri and he and Timmy have grown up a bit themselves and Hazel and Dev show up does he even get curious about the humans in Timmy’s universe

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Fourteen - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with the Chapters 1-13 on the Masterlist! :)

Chapter Fourteen - My Little Wild Wrangler

While walking out of the doctor’s office with about 15 stitches in your arm, you were practically mauled by Asher and Finn who were both crying. You couldn’t help but laugh while putting your arms around them and giving them a light squeeze. 

“We thought you were gone forever,” Finn whined. 

“And then we would’ve been stuck with that weirdo wrangler and his team without you,” Asher cried. 

“Guys, he isn’t all that bad,” you said, looking up to see Tyler cleaning the grass and other debris off Lil Blue and Ol Red.

“But he’s crazy, (Y/n),” Asher said, pulling away from you and wiping his eyes. 

“And you’re saying we’re not?” You asked, looking at both of them with a smile. 

“I guess you’re right, but I still don’t like him,” Finn said, looking at you with his eyebrows furrowed together slightly. 

“No one said you had to, Finn,” you said, walking over to your truck to check out the damage. 

“Looks like you need to get a front guard like the one I have,” Tyler said, leaning against his truck. 

“Headlights are replaceable,” you said, looking at your broken headlight on the driver’s side, “Zach at Tornado Tires usually has stuff for my truck in stock as he drives a 350, too.” 

“Maybe for Christmas I’ll get you one,” Tyler said softly, and started to walk down towards JoAnn’s diner. 

“If we make it that far,” you joked, walking behind him while sending a text to Zach about a headlight replacement. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tyler asked while stopping in his tracks which caused you to run into him. 

“It was a joke, Ty,” you said, regaining your balance and then walking around him, “Chill out.” 

“Sorry, I can’t chill out when someone I care deeply about just went through a tornado,” he huffed at you, “It should’ve been me who saved that kid.” 

“And it wasn’t, it was me,” you said, turning to face him and crossing your arms, “Just be glad I’m not an idiot and know what I’m doing out there even while I was scared.” 

“I’m glad you’re alive, (Y/n),” he sighed, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t.” 

“You would’ve grieved a day or two then went back to chasing like nothing happened. You’d fall in even more in love with Kate and have a big ol happy family,” you snapped, turning around and walking towards the dinner. 

“(Y/n),” he called after you, knowing he messed up.

You had just went through a tornado and Tyler chose now to take your joke seriously, you were uptight from almost being killed and having a boys life in your hands. What if he hadn’t made it and you did? You would’ve been destroyed and most likely quit chasing.

You slowed down your walking pace and took a deep breath. As much as you were scared, you had to realize Tyler was, too. He had just divulged all his feelings to you the day before and he could’ve lost you. You stopped walking and just stood in the middle of the sidewalk while hanging your head. While trying not to cry you heard his boots scrape across the cement then stopping behind you.

“Ty,” you sighed softly, “I’m sorry I snapped at you.” 

“I’m sorry, too, babe,” he whispered, “I should’ve been more sensitive to the fact that you were the one out there.” 

“You didn’t deserve for me to snap at you either,” you said, turning and facing him.

“No, I did, I was just thinking about me and what I could’ve lost,” he said, looking down into your (y/e/c) eyes. 

“Apology accepted,” you said, looking up into his. 

He pulled you in for a hug, not caring if anyone saw as he would and could make up some excuse about you needing support after going through that and your team falling apart. 

Your body relaxed after making contact with Tyler. Part of you loved how relaxed you felt with him, but another part hated it as you were falling hard for him. You pulled away as you heard a voice call out for Tyler. 

“Tyler!” Boone called, running over to him, “The team and I heard what happened! We can’t believe we missed it or didn’t see it coming!” 

“It kind of came out of nowhere, and it was dark so we would’ve had a hard time seeing it. Where the hell were all of you anyway?” He asked, smacking Boone’s shoulder playfully. 

“We were out in Woodward last night to do some bar hopping, you weren’t back when we were leaving so we left without you,” he said, “We don’t even know where you were.” 

“I was out,” Tyler said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Thankfully no one was really injured.” 

“The only one I heard was actually hurt was (Y/n) from the Storm Riders,” Boone said, “She’s quite the wild one, ain’t she?” 

“Yeah,” Tyler chuckled, “She definitely is.” 

“I’m going to catch up with the team to help out anyone else,” Boone said, “We should all do dinner tonight.” 

“I think that will work,” Tyler said, “I have a couple things want to talk to the team about anyway.” 

“Sounds good, boss!” Boone said while jogging back to Dani and Dexter. 

“I’m wild now, huh?” You asked, putting your hands on your hips. 

“I can’t say you aren’t,” Tyler said, turning around to face you with a smirk, “My little Wild Wrangler.” 

“Sounds like a new t-shirt idea,” you said, walking to the diner. 

“You mean like the one you’re wearin’?” He asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 

“It’s called a comfy bedtime shirt,” you said, pulling the flannel over the tornadeo shirt you had worn to bed. You were thankful that your mom engrained into your head to rarely sleep without a bra on due to emergencies like such so you weren’t stuck looking like a participant for a wet t-shirt contest. 

“It’s okay, babe,” he said, “Someday you’ll sleep next to the real deal and the shirt won’t suffice anymore.” 

“Slow it down, cowboy,” you laughed. 

“I’m just sayin’,” he said, shrugging, “You’ll never want to go back.” 

“We’ll see about that,” you said, “Unless Asher and Finn were having a log sawing contest in their room, I’m pretty sure you were the one snoring up a storm last night.” 

“Hey now, I can’t help I was tired after such an exciting day with a beautiful woman,” he said, throwing his hands up while trying to defend himself. 

“I’m pretty sure the shirt is a lot quieter than the real thing,” you joked, smiling at him. 

“Now that’s just rude,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Rude or the truth?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him and mocking him by putting your hands on your hips. 

“Ouch!” He said, rubbing his chest, “That heart the ol heart.” 

“You’ll be okay,” you said, walking into the diner with Tyler right behind you.

“Good morning, sunshines!” Cindy called out from behind the counter, “Quite the twister we had this morning, huh?” 

“You could say that, Cindy,” you said, walking over to the corner booth and sliding into the seat. Tyler slid in on the other side of the booth, tapping your boots with his. 

“Having the normal?” Cindy asked, starting to get a glass of water. 

“I’ll actually skip the coffee this morning,” you said, “I’ve had enough excitement this morning to keep me awake for a couple days.” 

“I’ll take a coffee,” Tyler said, grabbing a couple creamers. 

“On it!” Cindy said, pouring a cup of coffee and your glass of water. 

“Were you planning on telling your team tonight that we’re joining?” You asked, leaning back into the seat. 

“Something like that,” he said, “I’ll need you to add Asher and Finn to our group chat though as I don’t have their numbers.” 

“I can do that,” you said, taking out your phone and pulling up their contacts. 

Tyler handed you his phone and when you opened the lock screen you saw it was a picture of you from last night at his little shack taking a picture of the sunset. 

“Really?” You asked, showing him his screen which made him smile. 

“What can I say?” he said, taking the coffee cup from Cindy when she walked over. 

“You’re such a cheese ball,” you laughed, sliding up and it opening the phone. 

You added Asher and Finn into his contacts and handed his phone back to him. You took yours out and texted your mom.‘Hey Mom, I plan on heading out that way possibly tomorrow. I wanted to today but my plans are being delayed. Let me know if that works for you. Love you.’

Taglist: @fanboyswhore9 @faith719 @ummmeg @nerdgirljen @winterassassin1804

[yuurei20]

this is a late question but I was thinking about book 2 and the novel, did the novel have Yuya get knocked out by the spell drive disk so he couldn’t see Malleus compete or did they have him miss the game for a different reason

Hello hello! ^^ Thank you for this question--and yes he did!

Novel-Prefect and Game-Prefect shared the same fate at the end of Book 2: here is a partial translation!

"Grim is called over, the ghosts are gathered, and Yuuya huddles with Ace and Deuce to set the strategy for their next move. Each of them work through ideas on how they might put even the slightest dent in the overwhelmingly powerful opponent that is Savanaclaw.

Yuuya surprises himself with the thought, ‘Ah, this is so much fun.’

Strangely, he does not find the aggressive tones and clashing opinions to be unpleasant. He can tell that both the Ramshackle team and the Savanaclaw team are cherishing this moment, and fighting with all they have.

There is an incomparable sense of achievement in this fight that is not to beat down their opponent, but merely to win. Surely this is not a confrontation. It is the refreshing joy that is unique to playing a sport fair and square.

Vargas blows his whistle. The game resumes.

This time, Yuuya is to mark Jack. It was Ace’s idea, based on the thought that Jack might hesitate to act against a magicless opponent.

As if he has seen right through Ace’s plot, Jack bends at the waist and growls.

‘Like I’d fall for that. I never hold back, no matter who I’m up against.’

‘That’s what I told him,’ Yuuya responds. When he follows with, ‘But I’ll still give it my all,' Jack looks surprised—and then releases a quick bark of laughter.

’That’s the spirit. I’ll give you everything I’ve got, too!’

Overhead, the ghosts cheer aloud. It seems that Team Ramshackle has managed to steal the disc again. Yuuya hears Grim’s voice from behind.

‘I’m gonna do it, too! The Great Grim Hurricane!’

Jack’s eyes go wide.

‘Yuu, behind you!’

Something strikes sharply against Yuuya’s head, and everything goes black.

--

There are voices speaking, and Yuuya gradually regains consciousness. He finally forces his heavy eyelids open, and his vision is flooded with white light.

‘Come on, man. That crazy shot was never gonna hit the mark. It came out of nowhere.’

‘Leona did it, so I figured I could do it too, is all…’

‘Don’t go thinking you and I are the same. Damn herbivore.’

Yuuya sees Ace and Grim sitting alongside him. He is lying down, apparently. While he hears Leona’s voice, Leona himself is nowhere to be found. Where is he?

Yuuya turns his head to see Jack and Deuce sitting on his other side. He meets Deuce’s eyes.

‘Ah, Yuu! You’re awake?’

‘I…what happened, again?’

As Yuuya tries to sit up, a sharp pain shoots through the back of his head. When he makes a wary attempt to touch the painful spot, his fingers are met with soft bandages. And, below them, a bump that hurts to press against. He must have a lump on his head.

Yuuya raises his eyes and sees a shelf lined with medicine. On the desk beside it is leftover gauze and a half-used roll of surgical tape. The clean smell of antiseptic lingers over everything. It seems that he is in the infirmary.

The large window behind him shows a sky that has turned from sunset to a deep navy blue, surprising Yuuya.

‘You don’t remember? Deuce asks. 'You got hit in the head by a disc that Grim threw as hard as he could, and it knocked you out. The doctor said there's nothing to worry about.’"

[cozymochi]

For the TWST ask meme (if you haven't answered these ones already and I missed it) Favorite NRC staff member? Is there any character who seems to follow you (i.e. they always seem to pop up when you're trying to summon someone else)?

13. Favorite NRC Staff Member

SAM!!! I tried practicing drawing him the other day because I never actually did. Mostly for like a really arbitrary reason regarding whether or not to follow his JP appearance. Elements were removed for a reason I’m sure, even if it was possibly a case of over-correcting (see use of the word “master” being danced around, but don’t quote me I am merely speculating, especially because there is no official explantation behind why and never will be- I can speculate all I wanna but I think I will just do my own digging on my own time), and on that end I kinda got left in an awkward position lol. A part of me was experimenting with a compromise of sorts, but we’ll see how that goes, assuming I do it at all.

Besides, there’s allure in having less to draw lmao

Don’t mind the terribly off model exercises, I was just getting a feel. BECAUSE I WANNA USE HIM he’s kind of a big obvious elephant in the room for anyone who like reaaally cares about my little MC (*cricket noises*) and I have answers, but I wanna go crazy properly. (Granted, I haven’t really drawn any of the staff rip. BUT UNLIKE SAM, I have no reasons. See? Im uncool.)

I still wanna know more about him. But I guess I’ll have to wait until mmmmmm around next year maybe for [JP SPOILERS REDACTED].

8. ANSWERED

[lemon-natalia]

Nona the Ninth Reaction - Review

firstly, i just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has taken an interest in and encouraged me in doing these liveblogs! this has been such a fun project to work on, and reading these books for the past nine months or so has been a bright spot in what has otherwise been a relatively tough period of my life. i’ve really enjoyed getting to theorise about all of the lore of these books and make horribly ill-advised emotional attachments to inevitably doomed characters

more fun statistics that no one asked for: this liveblog was the longest, at about 20,000 (!!) words. my GtN liveblog was 12000 words for comparison. i have no excuse other than i like to talk

NtN definitely was an interesting diversion from the other two books so far. it wasn’t exactly a breather, since it was still incredibly heartbreaking and horrifying, but it was fun to see a part of the worldbuilding very different from what we’ve seen before. as much as I missed both Harrow and Gideon, i liked that it gave other characters time to shine outside of interacting with them. it was fun to see more of Palamedes, Camilla, and Pyrrha, and how those characters act in a vastly different environment to the Nine Houses

although NtN was essentially telling two different narratives, John chapters vs Nona’s, it still didn’t feel particularly disjointed - i think it was thematically held together by being a bit more grounded than the other books so far, sci-fi and fantasy elements notwithstanding (contemporary issues like climate change and nuclear war, & John’s world being a setting far closer to our own vs Nona’s domestic life & very real problems of living in a warzone)

i also loved getting John’s perspective in the chapters narrated by Harrow, his point of view and recollections were equal parts funny, terrifying, and fascinating. he’s certainly got a … unique perspective on the world. it was just a slow horrifying journey trying to figure out how the world ended, knowing that it was doomed but not exactly how it happened

Muir really has a talent for endearing you to a protagonist, and Nona was no exception, I absolutely loved her, and just, her whole story and how tragic it was physically hurt me. i also wasn’t expecting to get as attached as i was to Hot Sauce and the school gang - i hope we get just even just a mention of what happens to them in AtN

tldr: 11/10. reading this series is like the emotional equivalent of voluntarily getting stabbed in the heart repeatedly. i have absolutely no clue what I’m going to do with my life now that this is over for the meantime, other than go crazy in a locked room with a red string conspiracy board trying to figure out whats going to happen in Alecto the Ninth

speaking of, obviously its not a pressing issue since to my knowledge there isn’t even a release date yet, but i’m not sure if i’ll do a liveblog for Alecto when it comes out? on one hand the most fun bit about liveblogging has been the reaction from everyone who’s already read the books and we’ll all be in the same boat of not knowing what’s going on when Alecto comes out, so i don’t know how much of a point there is? on the other i would very much enjoy doing it anyway, and i’m a perfectionist so it would be nice to have completed all of the books like that. so i guess it depends on how impatient i am to read the whole book when it comes out lol