#imagine them sprinkled all over the place <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[woahjo]

hmm maybe making out w/ armin after a tequila shot? i wanna see him lick the salt off his hand 😭

YAY thank u for sending something <33 and ooohhh jesus what an image.... yeah that's good.

cw: alcohol, dubcon (they're both drunk), this is kinda sweet idk

there's something going on with armin. between you and him. you're not sure when things changed, but they did, and now you find that you're unable to revert back to the way things used to be. there's tension, too thick to cut, that has swelled beneath every interaction you've had for the past few weeks.

your friend group hangs out a lot. eren likes to dance and armin likes the company of hosting. tonight, everyone's gathered at armin and eren's place. you, armin, eren, mikasa, connie, jean, sasha, even reiner made it out to see you all for a few minutes. there's an excited social air about the group, charged with some sort of anticipation that you feel every time one of them approaches you.

the music playing in the apartment is loud and sasha has just bounced off with mikasa in tow to find eren in the living room where he's sitting eating leftovers from yesterday next to the speaker. you're alone at the kitchen counter, sitting in that moment just before your loneliness becomes awkward.

"hey," armin comes up next to you, a haphazard smile plastered across his face, "take a shot with me."

you make a face. "what kind?"

armin's lips curl up in a smile. it's the kind of grin that makes him look mischievous. he wears it a lot when he drinks.

"tequila," he says, laughing to himself.

when armin drinks, he gets bubbly. the positive part of him comes out in droves and he seems to have less reservation about wearing his heart and affection on his sleeve. it's infectious and you find it hard to say no to him, harder now with the way he's looking at you though blonde lashes. plus, you like being alone with him. you always have, but lately it's been so charged that you can't help but be enthralled when it happens.

his cheeks are flushed a light tone of pink and the color drags across to the tip of his nose. you imagine that his face is warm, the way yours might be after the drinks you've had, and you feel that syrupy tension creep back into the interaction as you think of it.

you sigh, taking the bottle of shitty tequila from the counter and filling two empty shot glasses with it. you're giving him an exasperated look while you do it, like he's just begged you for hours to do something and you finally gave in.

armin tilts his head down and gives you a smile so uncharacteristically sleezy that it could drag across the floor. it's still charming though. his mess of blonde hair, strands stuck to his forehead, and the sweet countenance he has about him makes sure of that.

"you're so easy to please," you laugh as you slide armin's shot towards him.

he eyes it for a moment before grabbing a salt shaker from the wet counter top, not seeming to care about the mess he'll have to clean tomorrow from the house party. you watch as he smiles lopsidedly at you and then licks the space on the back of his hand between his thumb and wrist, sprinkling the salt over it. you copy his movements, holding out your fist with an eye roll as he loosely shakes the salt over it.

there are some precut lime slices on the counter, likely from someone else doing the same thing before the two of you, and the tequila is so shitty that it needs whatever help it can get. it's like gasoline, but you're young and broke and tequila is tequila. it works towards the same purpose.

then, armin smiles again at you and raises his eyebrows excitedly.

"ready? go."

you watch, a bit mesmerized as he lifts his wrist up to his lips and licks the salt from it, dragging his tongue against the soft skin of his hand before bringing his shot glass to his mouth and tilting his head back. his blonde hair moves with it, shifting backwards and momentarily exposing his forehead. you follow suit almost immediately after, watching him over the apples of your cheeks.

you're vaguely aware of the fact that he's also watching you, but armin's presence is so comfortable—so desired—that you don't particularly feel observed in any intrusive way.

the shot burns going down. yeah, it's gasoline and you put the lime in your mouth and bite down with furrowed eyebrows. you make a face and armin laughs at you in a way fitting of his friendly manner. so effortlessly charming, so sweet. he follows suit, raising the sour fruit to his mouth and biting down, still wearing that silly little grin.

you smile and armin mirrors it, coughing lightly before settling with the taste. you're alone and the air is so charged that you feel it on your skin. armin takes a step forward and your skin prickles delightfully. it feels so effortless to you, something that exists between you two that makes the flirting easy.

you don't have to wonder if he's going to kiss you. you know he is. armin is shy, but he's been drinking, and weeks have gone by now inching closer and closer to this. people say that you shouldn't hook up with your friends, let alone one of your best friends, but when it's this easy and with someone as sweet as armin, it's hard not to ignore that advice.

he leans in a little, reaching up to touch the side of your face. then, he furrows his eyebrows as if to double check that you're really doing this. when you don't pull back, he puts his lips to yours and you immediately reach up to touch his face.

you pull him closer, inhaling and pressing your body against his and snaking your hand into his tufts of blonde hair. your mouth parts to let him in and you feel his tongue snake across yours. he tastes like lime and the aftertaste of tequila, and something else, something slightly sweet and human that you attribute to his breath.

armin's free hand comes to rest on your hip, tugging you lightly into him. you feel the way his face heats when he does, warming like he's blushing and something in your lower stomach pulses with need. every confident action, every swipe of his tongue, is followed by something bashful. an equal and opposite reaction that leaves you endeared and hungry.

you gasp a little when he knocks your body lightly against his.

"sorry," he breathes against your mouth, not pausing in his movements as he chases you. he sounds breathless and needy, but also genuinely apologetic for his eagerness. you give into him further to quell the anxiety.

you're not sure how long you spend like that, pushed flush up against each other's body. armin's hand roams up the underside of your shirt, his fingertips grazing your warm belly while you snake yours under his to touch his bare back. you only separate when you hear someone clamoring up from the couch and making their way to the kitchen.

the two of you separate quickly and you swipe your bottom lip with your thumb as if that would hide the swollen look of your mouth. armin adjusts his shirt and clears his throat as jean rounds the corner.

he looks between the two of you, standing an awkward foot away from each other before he scoffs lightly.

"sorry to interrupt," he says with a whistle and armin lights up like a switchboard, his ears turning red.

he let's his head fall when jean leaves, leaning against the countertop and looking back up at you with an embarrassed, sweet smile.

[thebluester2020]

The Stranger [Pt. 2]

Summary: You were a citizen of Natlan. In the nation of the Pyro Archon, you were constantly greeted by bloodshed and violence. A life that kept the finely tuned forces of the nation in balance until it completely shattered with the arrival of the Fatui. And you had the newly arrived Harbinger to thank for that...but, one fateful night it seems, you just happened to stumble upon a man who could possibly throw the Fatui out of your homeland entirely.

Warning(s): Wholesomeness sprinkled around, Il Capitano is a bit of a liar here, eventual smut, Imagined Natlan(?) (Obviously the nation isn't out yet so I'm using my imagination as to how things are + how the people function lol), good ol' angst at the end.

Note: Lol smut will be in the next part <33

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Your feelings were growing but, your suspicions were as well.

"Fire Blooms suit you," The stranger commented as you and he were currently foraging for the rare beauties in the middle of a field.

In Natlan, despite the fertile soil from the constant volcanic eruptions, flowers were hard to grow due to the heat and their delicacy. So, when the flowers could grow, Fire Blooms (as the people of Natlan so fondly called them), it wasn't an uncommon act to quickly pluck the flowers and try to find ways to preserve their beauty and use them as symbols of good luck and fortune.

Yet, your unlikely companion wasn't so much as picking flowers as he was watching you.

You blushed at the compliment. "Thank you," You said.

"Though, I think you being surrounded by flowers is a nice sight as well." You said in turn. And it was true, there was a certain...regalness to the man as he kneeled beside you. The flowers had a dim glow to them that illuminated the otherwise dark figure of the stranger. And...with the Fire Blooms' light, you could've sworn you could've just begun to see something through the darkness of his mask.

A chin, darkly stubbled. "What's behind the mask?" You wondered aloud.

"I'd prefer not to tell."

"Of course, you men and your 'brooding mysteriousness'."

The stranger grumbled. "No," He said with a huff. "It's keeping you safe."

"Next, you'll say something about my eyes being 'too delicate'." You snorted as you rolled your eyes, the stranger's silence afterward making you giggle even harder.

You appreciated his concern but...besides the fact that you've seen much worse. You were curious, more or less, you were fine with not knowing his name. In your mind, you regarded him as an...aloof dog of sorts. When he was around you and your village, he was protective of the people and yourself, he accepted signs of affection somewhat kindly and he knew where home was!

But, you didn't dare try to beg him to stay a little longer when he went to train in the forest-

In fact...did he even train in the forest at all?

You tried to tuck the thought into the back of your head. The stranger was…well, a stranger but from what you did understand about him? He was very righteous and noble, a very “stick to the rules” type of man who would seemingly burst into flames if he strayed too far from his routine.

"You are too delicate," The stranger's words snapped you back to the present conversation. "But...not in strength, in your expectations of me. My face, my name, all that I keep hidden from you. I wouldn't want you to think differently of me."

"There's not much to think differently. Even after some weeks, I still barely know you." You shrugged.

You struggled to withhold an 'Awe' as he looked down at his lap, leaving you to place a hand over one of his curling fists. “I’m not trying to pressure you. I happen to like mysterious men.” You lightly teased to where the man only looked away from you.

You cocked your head a little. “What’s-“

Before you could get your question out, you nearly choked on your own breath when your eyes suddenly directed to the sight of two Fatui members coming your way. You’d heard of them…Geomancer and Pyroslinger is what you heard being thrown around town your village from time to time. You’d assume these two must’ve been what others have talked about.

“F-Fatui!” You gasped, jumping to your feet, the flowers in your lap falling to the ground as you quickly tried to pull the man along.

As the stranger rose to his feet and looked to where you were pointing though…he barely looked or acted alarmed as you still tried to pull him to come with you. Only, all of a sudden, the two members kneeled on one knee before him. “What the…?” You said.

“Why are they-“

The stranger placed a hand over your own before he leaned forward towards you a little. “Go home

“What?!” You whisper-yelled. “And leave you alone to those bastards?! No!” His grip tightened as he leaned even closer, his breath coming through the mask as he nudged the side of his mask to your cheek. Despite the almost stinging chill of the metal, the warm bloom it left behind almost made you feel as if you were floating.

Was that a kiss?

“I will not fall so easily, trust me, please.”

You gently placed a hand on the side of your face. You wanted to give him a kiss in return but…in front of Fatui? Never a day in your life, besides, the kiss in return would’ve meant more should you have waited to give him one to his real face. “…You better come home.” Were your last words before you rushed off.

.

.

.

Two weeks.

That’s how long he had been gone.

Two. While. Weeks.

Those words of not “falling so easily”? You were beginning to believe it less and less everyday, but, instead of sadness? You could only feel anger, angry at him.

How dare he leave you with this warm, fluttering feeling in your chest, leave you with thoughts of constant worrying and wondering when he would back. It got so bad that you were beginning to think that your mind was beginning to break! For it seemed like, every single second, your mind was on him. The mysterious tall stranger whose voice never left your mind.

Deep and gentle, authoritative when the two of you had your small arguments here and there but when the dust settled? He’d suddenly sound like a scolded child, shy and hesitant to say something in else in fear of upsetting you. And with his voice never leaving your mind? Your mind then wandered back to how he looked, tall and strong. Like a bear, you thought.

You’d seen him help here and there around the village.

One time, you saw him lift some boxes. Even then, he insisted on keeping all of his clothes and helmet on despite the constant swiping of his brow.

You started to wonder what was underneath his clothes.

Was his skin as pale as moonlight? Tanned as if the sun had gave him a kiss or dark and rich? Did he have scars? You’d assume so, the muscles he had upon his form couldn’t have been without consequence yet, as your mind thought about how he looked like, it began to trail to more…inappropriate thoughts.

Your thighs clenched together, a small pool of arousal starting to settle in the pit of your stomach as you imagined things such as...how would he touch you? You'd assume his hands were rough with how much he trained with his weapon but, he'd wear his gloves more often than not. Perhaps they were smooth? The glide towards your waiting sex between your legs would be featherlight and gentle, his rich voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

"I've been waiting to do this,"

"My firebloom...you are ravishing tonight. Allow me to be truthful in my actions-"

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, your cheeks erupting into fiery hot flames as you jerked your hands away from your sopping sex, desperately trying to shove down the disappointment that you didn't get to do anything as you got up to go to the door.

Perhaps it would be your favorite stranger?

You shook your head at the thought. "He usually doesn't knock." You murmured to yourself before you cracked open the door a little to see...one of the village children, beaming up at you.

"Where's the mister?" They asked.

You sighed.

You wished you knew.

.

.

.

He had been away from you for close to three weeks now.

When he had convinced you to leave him behind to deal with the Fatui soldiers...his soldiers had simply come to find him to report their progress on subjugating the important warrior strongholds throughout Natlan.

When the Jester ordered him to embark upon this mission, he made it especially clear that the Tsaritsa's will would only be effectively heard and spread throughout the people when they understood the extent that the Fatui would go to ensure her message was heard. He agreed, even now...as he placed his helmet on the small table beside him, wiping his brow free of sweat and blood.

He believed in the Tsaritsa's will.

He wouldn't dare do a single thing to jeopardize the mission.

But, meeting you wasn't in his plans.

At first, he thought he would be able to ignore you. A simple villager who was far too curious and naive about the danger in front of them.. And when he realized that you truly knew nothing about him? He...foolishly or not, allowed himself to settle into the facade of being a native of Natlan once more. Back when he was nothing but a mere warrior too scrawny to pick up a sword much less swing it.

Archons how he missed you.

Rather than being cooped up alone in his private chambers.

He'd rather be alone with you, listening to you talk on and on about all sorts of things in an attempt to fill the silence.

In truth? He just liked hearing your voice, thinking that you had far more interesting things to talk about than himself.

He missed your touch especially, before he had left. You and him had grown more comfortable exchanging chaste touches with one another, your conversations having an underlying tension to them that was unspoken of.

With the memory of your touch, however, he remembered a fleeting moment when you had fallen asleep against him in your living room. You were fresh from a bath he believed, the scent of wild cherries was heavy upon your skin whilst your textured hair had a strong lavender smell to it. Yet, as it was near bedtime, your clothes showed more skin than usual.

He felt his pants begin to tighten as he remembered your body.

The slow rise and fall of your chest, squishing against his arm as you tried to curl closer to him, your exposed legs and thighs making him begin to take heavier breaths as he constantly had to remind himself that you were simply a villager that he found himself getting close to all due to your ignorance of who he truly was.

Yet as his mind continued to torture him with the memory of your body, his legs unconsciously parting as he slipped further down the chair to unzip his pants. His mind created an even more lewd imagery in his head.

He could almost feel your breathy moans upon his ear as he palmed his bulge to the sight he envisioned inside his head...the only issue? You weren't immediately there to solve his problem.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Link to Part 3

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

hi i came across your post asking people to talk to you about karl heisenberg so i decided to send in an ask because i absolutely cannot be normal about that man in any way shape or form at all he rotates in my brain 24/7 and refuses to get out

plplsplspls list down some of your hcs for him :33

You and me both, you and me both, don't worry 🤝🏻 I have him living rent free up there since I put my eyes on him and now he won't leave, instead he's wreaking havoc where perfectly normal and content thoughts should be 😭

Thank you so much for sending the ask! 🫶🏻

Karl Heisenberg HCs under the cut since their NSFW 🔞 (gender neutral)

I'll write a SFW Head Canon post later!

🛠 So, what's the first thing that comes to mind when looking at Kar Heisenberg, hm? Yes, exactly: "Damn, Daddy!" but as mighty fine as this is, how about we flip that table upside down and consider Karl with a mommy kink? There is something about the thought of consensually slapping that mountain of a man around and calling him a bad and naughty boy that makes my brain rot so fast 🥴 Depending on how complex of a topic this wants to be fleshed out as, one can always sprinkle some trauma into the mix because both mommy and daddy issues can very much stem from painfully real places and I imagine that Karl as quite a lot of that.

🛠 I like to believe that Karl has a surreal amount of patience, nerves of steel, but only when it comes to a few things in particular. One of them being you propped up in his lap with his cock buried inside you up to the shaft, neither of you making any hectic movements as you cock-warm him while he welds together scraps of metal in his workshop. He can do that for hours if he feels like it, enjoying the engulfing warmth of your body whilst sparks fly through the somewhat damp air of the factory, strangely enough helps him concentrate and be precise for neither sparks nor hot metal to get anywhere close to you.

🛠 Dad-Bod. That's it. Send Tweet. No, but really, I'm drop dead serious about it and will die with my face pressed to that squishy soft belly pooch and my hands clasping at his glorious man-tits. You know what Dad-Bod Karl Heisenberg gets you? So much cuddle-material 😌 And in instances during which you don't peacefully fall asleep wrapped in his arms, he muffles your moans and whines with his chest, just shoving your face into the soft and warm skin.

🛠 In my brain, Karl is a giver. Sure, he might take you whenever the mood strikes, that simply cones with the package, but never without giving equal quantities of affection back. If he'd be out for one-sided sex, he could just as well shove his cock into one of his brainless creations. Karl would make you feel wanted and desired with every opportunity he'd get because he knows how it feels to be left behind, an outcast, and he'd never want you to feel this way especially not around him, ever.

🛠 Intoxication kink, my friends 🙏🏻 Okay, listen, as aforementioned, Kar is a giver and somewhere deep deep down he carries the need to care and nurture. Sometimes it's get so overwhelmingly much that he just has to take matters into his own hands, okay? Fucking you up nicely under his supervision so that you don't go off the rails too hard.

🛠 I believe Karl to be somewhat possessive and very physical about you. Hos fingers are always lingering, sometimes at your waist, sometimes ghosting over the round of your ass and other times lovingly clasping around your throat. Same goes for his lips and teeth. One could say that Lord Heisenberg has a hefty oral fixation that can't be soothed by cigars alone. He'd suck and nibble at your fingers and nipples without hesitation.

🛠 Last but not least, you know how it goes: Save a horse... 🤠

[lilasrefuge]

The first two years in the US,

I hated everything here.

I hated the streets were so quiet and empty, I hated the isolation, I hated the loneliness, I hated I was spiritually mute, I hated the transition. I also hated the California sunlight, which everybody agrees was perfect weather that I dismissed because I thought it was boring.

I hated this place because it forced me to face myself and reality.

I hated that I had to start over my life.

I hated, hated, and hated every second living here.

I hated myself, because when I looked into the mirror, I didn’t recognize my face anymore.

Because I was no longer the person, I thought I was.

I was depressed and angry, so I stopped caring anymore.

The first two years, I worked in a boba tea shop.

I hated the smell lingers on my clothes, my hair, eventually spreading to my whole body after finishing my shift. It smelled like garlic crispy chicken and vegetable oil that we had been using for two weeks.

I lost my confidence, I felt hopeless, and I hated my life.

Thanks to E, who has never given up on me, not like me and not like everyone else in my life.

He was and still is the only person that sees through me on a level that nobody ever does.

My ugliness, my selfishness, my weakness, my fear, and everything deep in me.. After all, he still believes in me.

That gives me hope. He shows me the part of me that was dissociated with myself for decades.

He awakened me.

I returned to school, sitting in the classroom with classmates that are 10 years and more younger than me. I had doubts, and I still have. I doubt my ability to pursue my dream, am I capable of doing what I am going to do? Get a college diploma at 33. God, that sounds old. Then go to grad school and hopefully I could eventually become a psychotherapist in my 40s, so I could help people who are struggling with their lives.

Can I really do that?

I don’t know, but it’s okay. Because I’m going to give it a try. Because, I’ve wasted enough time and I cannot wait any longer.

I know that the reason the profession of psychotherapist was so attractive to me was because I wanted to save myself — my inner child, my childhood.

I finished my resume and applied for a job position that I never imagined I would do even a year ago.

Soon, I had five interviews with different companies in four days.

I was so nervous in the first interview. The second one, I was more relaxed. The third, fourth were even better, and then the final one, I started to realize the power of exposure therapy. It was good practice.

I remember the first time talking about this job with my Channah while we were visiting them. The Arizona morning sunlight sprinkled on the ochre kitchen floor, the smell of coffee and scrambled eggs. I can still hear the expectation in my voice, I wanted this job.

Today, I officially accepted the offer as a behavior therapist who is working with children with autism.

I felt like crying, but I didn’t. Instead, I went to the pool and meditated, then fell asleep on the chair under the palm trees.

I feel grateful,

for E,

and for myself.

[cclkestis]

happy tag!

tagged by both @sydsney and @muse-of-nightmares to tag some people who make me happy!! thank you both so much, putting it under a read more bc (as always) i may have gotten carried away and this just turned into me yelling about you all :’)) and i’m so sorry if i’ve forgotten someone dhsjdhsj

okay first off, i want to tag a few people who i love seeing around but haven’t really interacted with much but it makes me really happy seeing them around!! 

@carloscliveira @clvireredfield @shallow-gravy @shadows-echoes @the-kryomancer @thedragonkween @seooshi @a-shakespearean-in-paris @ghostlybai @purple-hearted-mallow @ofmymuses @vindicia 

and now for some more yelling bc i love you all !!!

@caliwriites​ -  cali!! my friend!! you already know how much i love you but you’re going on this list anyway and can fight me on it. i always look forwards to talking and plotting with you, finding creative new ways to torment our poor children so that their limited soft moments are all the more sweet. it always brings a smile to my face to see you pop up on discord and even when things get busy knowing that we’ll both come back and dive right back into our nonsense has me just!!!!! yelling with you is always a highlight (thank u so much for putting up with my incessant rambling) and i hope it continues for a long time :’))   

@possiblypeachy - allie, ma’am, i love you and our disaster gang with my whole heart!! i know that we haven’t yelled about them as much lately but i can’t help but read back on things with the stupidest grin on my face!! you’re always so lovely and have such a creative mind, especially when it comes to your writing and all of your wonderful ocs, and i’m so glad that we met and that i have been blessed with the chance to create a whole world with you!! :D

@the-bluest-hour - eileen what can i even say here? you’re one of the sweetest around and your enthusiasm and willingness to listen to me yell about my stories and ocs makes me want to cry every time! ;-; thank you so much for always being so supportive and curious about them all, and for letting me ramble about them and motivating me to get back into writing as well as just being there if i need someone to rant to - i love you sm!! 

@muse-of-nightmares - i always have so much fun with you isabell, whether it’s chatting or dying in playing games, and i’m so so glad that we started talking and that i get to call you a friend!! you’re an incredibly talented creator both with your writing and the beautiful gifsets you create, and it’s always such a delight to see you on my dash! i look forwards to seeing what shenanigans we can get up to in the future! :’D

@the-darklings -  you’ve no doubt heard all of this from me before, kat, but you’re one of the loveliest people around and i’m so grateful i get to call you a friend. you’ve always been so kind and supportive, taking the time to shoot a message my way even when life is getting busy for you - we don’t talk a huge amount bc we’re both pretty garbage at keeping in touch sometimes but know that I still love and support you always (even when your incredible writing no doubt makes me cry)!! 

@sydsney -  anna !! you’ve supported me and been around nearly from the very beginning, and you’ve always been one of the sweetest people!! you have such a wonderful way with words in your writing that has inspired me from the first thing i read, and i always enjoy seeing you around on my dash! and your support of me and my disaster ocs always blows me away, i appreciate you so much for taking the time to send me silly asks about them or enabling me to yell :’))

@datapads - one of the loveliest!! hannah you’re always such a force of positivity, tagging me in things and dropping sweet encouraging words into my inbox. your passion and talent for writing (especially the way you can make me cry in so many words) are inspiring and i always look forwards to seeing you popping up on my dash! 

@kaydel -  my fellow goblin queen of the swamp!! you’re always a ray of sunshine, lifting up everyone around you and cheering them on regardless of what they’re trying to do, and i can’t thank you enough for that love and support you’re always ready to throw at me when i need it, you’ve no idea how much that’s helped me when things have been hard :’)) always love seeing you Go Off in the tags on posts too, honestly you make me laugh so easily - it’s right up there on your talent list with writing and making lovely gifs, keeping us all fed with the good stuff!! :D

[brettsshrimp]

since I can't sleep I've been thinking of Christmas headcanons since it's almost that month ww

• you and Brett go all out with decorating the office!! and at first everyone's like???? it's not even December wtf but soon enough they get dragged in by puppy eyes and pout from you two. they'll all eventually get into the spirit and enjoy decorating

• ngl the office will probably look like a disaster to people outside of the group nshmsjk like, everyone has their own personal touch that they wanna add, whether it's for jokes or not. it's v chaotic but you wouldn't have it any other way<33

• the tree is huge btw, and it's absolutely covered in ornaments and tinsel

• Also!! going down to where Robotus is and decorating the basement!! at first both Reagan and Robotus are like?? what's the point???? but Robotus does appreciate it even if he doesn't admit it,, makes him feel included even if he isn't actually there

• like setting up fairy lights that change color, giving him his own tree, asking if there's anything he wants on the tree or what topper he wants

• convincing Reagan to give him Christmas movies to watch too!!

• omg you know that story where someone played what's new pussycat on a jukebox over and over with a different song in the middle??? Myc would do that and play all I want for Christmas is you on the speakers on repeat with one other Christmas song that plays after like 8 times. he's enjoying watching everyone go insane

• imagine walking by the office and just hearing "I don't want a lot for Christmas" and then everyone just collectively losing their shit hnshdkbd

• Glenn probably ends up breaking the speakers smnsksb everyone just sits there like,,, it's so quiet now,

• baking sugar cookies cut into Christmas shapes for the gang and bringing frosting and sprinkles so they can decorate them!!

• it either turns into a frosting war or a competition of who can decorate the best cookie ever. either way, wherever the decorating is happening, it won't stay clean

• also, the thought crossed my mind 'oh! what if they all baked together!!' and it seemed cute at first but then I realized that's a horrible idea shsnkdhk not just the kitchen, but the whole place would be a complete mess

• Brett comes in one day with a bunch of ugly sweaters that he picked for the group. at first everyone's like,, I don't wanna wear that, but he convinces them to, and they won't deny, he did a good job picking out sweaters for them

• getting presents for them is gonna be hard because Myc will absolutely try to read your mind and find out what you're getting everyone. everytime you're near him you have to distract yourself or actively think about other things

• he's teasing you like come onnn you know you wanna think about it~ it must be tiring thinking of all these other things~ just oneee little thought? I promise I won't tell<3

• I'm sure he doesn't care too much about Christmas, but he does appreciates the dedication you have to make sure what you got him stays a surprise. probably not a lot of people have done that

• spoiling everyone with presents!! they probably aren't used to it, or really done this with eachother (sure they've decorated the place a bit but not to this extent) so when they see presents under the tree they're like oh,,? we're supposed to get presents? and they start to! when Christmas arrives there's just a huge stack of presents for everyone

• always making sure everyone feels included and as happy as they can be

• like, I'm thinking,, I'm not sure about the others, but Brett and Reagan probably never really had a proper Christmas so like,,, I just wanna let them have a good, proper Christmas hmmgehrh,,,,,

[sashi-ya]

Christmas event :D

Rosinate x reader chocolate

Reader where she's just cooking with little law while waiting for Rosi to arrive from his marine duty and then do Christmas stuff and sitting and cuddling in the fire place while drinking hot choco( OMG this is so cute just thinking Abt it 😭❤️ ) and then in the morning Rosi tells law to open his gifts in the Christmas tree and holy shit imagine the kids adorable smile ❤️😭🥰

Thank you for doing this <33

My darling you made me the happiest person alive by requesting this. My perfect life would definitely look like this if I ever got the chance to ask for something. THANK U for requesting this, thank u so much. I hope you enjoy!!! Happy Holidays! 💖

Chocolate

Rosinante x Gn! Reader ft. Little Law

Day 10: Our First Christmas Together ~

tw: none. excess of cuteness. Law is 7 y/o as always when I wrote for him as a child.

a/n: the notebook is inspired on the canon fact that Law drew himself his jolly roger while living at Mr. Wolff's. (You can read the novel here) (yeah I draw them to look like crayons and let's pretend that's Law's handwriting pls hahaha)

wc: 1333

White spots cover little Law's face…

This time is not from the amber lead, but from some powdery sugar.

Sickness turned into sweetness. Rosinante and you, Law’s beloved protectors. Law’s second chance in life, Law’s first Christmas with Cora and you.

He is standing on his special yellow booster to reach for the kitchen countertop, and both you and him, are baking some gingerbread men. It was surprising Law liked them, since he doesn’t like anything bread related, apparently cookies were an exception.

“How do you want to decorate them, Law?” you ask, searching for some sprinkles and chocolate melts. “Uhm, I think I want to add a smiling face. Let me show you, I’ve made a few drawings…” the little bean of joy says and runs up to his room.

“Law! you are gonna get sugar all ov…. Never mind”

Law is as methodical as a grown up, but still a kiddo. There is no way you could scold him, he wants to show you something he drew, you will have time to clean afterwards. Plus this is your first Christmas together…

The tanned skin, crystalline grey eyes, cute kiddo shows you some designs out of a yellow notebook.

“Law!! How pretty!!” you joyfully tell him, because they are indeed really cute. “Do you think Cora would like them? They are inspired by…” he stops himself; a light dust of crimson invades his cheeks. “Are they inspired by daddy's smile? I can see it clearly! He would love them. I tell you what, prepare the page because he will surely want them in his office” you tell him, cleaning some of the sugar off his nose.

Law’s smile widens, and his eyes shine with a special sparkle. He is well aware, despite being so young, how Rosinante’s actions have allowed him to keep on living. Law sees him as the representation of life. And you, you too. There are no gray clouds that could opaque the sunlight of Cora’s smile. He is your sun, Law’s sun.

“Let’s finish them before he is home!” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Sure! Plus we need to do some more for Santa tonight”. Law gives you a side look, he is at that age some of his friends tell them Santa doesn’t exist but he still wanna believe he does. In any case, Rosi and you have decided to keep with the “lie” as long as he tells you to stop. A little bit of fantasy and magic never hurt anybody, right?.

Law managed to create a special bowl with milk for Santa, that he left next to the tree for the old guy to indulge after leaving the presents. He didn’t ask for anything, Law indeed never does, but he will get many presents this year…

Both of you get so into the decoration of the cookies and preparing the dinner table you don’t realize the time passes by faster than expected. Soon, a huge thump could be heard outside the house.

“DADDY'S HOME!”

Law seems more excited than ever, he even forgot about his characteristic “bad mood” and it’s jumping all over the place -until he notices you are looking at him- but even though, it’s always heartwarming to see him so happy.

Rosinante shakes the snow off his shoulders and hangs his white Marine cape. The shift at the base is over, and the night is settled to have a wonderful warm Christmas family dinner. Law runs to Cora’s arms, being lifted by him (almost hitting the kiddo’s head against the ceiling).

“Hello, my dear husband~” you purr, smiling at the sweetest image of him holding your little ray of sun. Rosi comes closer and kisses your lips softly and lovingly, while Law is crushed against you two since he has them on arms.

“AHHHHH” Law shouts. “A sandwich of loveee!!! Law, you are being trapped by the love bread!!!” you shout, snuggling him with pure love and sweetness. You all laugh at Law’s cheeks being squeezed and after that you head to the dining room.

Christmas decorations, delicious food Law helped you to prepare and arrange, and carols playing (Law was against playing them, but still). Rosi and you enjoy the delicious food, while listening to Law speak about the new operation the read of. You are not disgusted of course, but Rosi, who is absolutely grossed out by blood, tries to endure through the details of the procedure Law is commenting on.

You suggest for them to go sit next to the fireplace to have some cocoa and cookies. Law fidgets on his seat because he knows those are gonna be his cookies. The bean is anxious to show Cora his creation, and to see if he notices.

You were absolutely sure he would notice, but you decided to send him a message earlier just to tell him…

You > Love, your son is making you cookies. He drew the designs himself and are inspired by your smile. I’m sure you will notice, but just in case. Oh, did you get the Sora figure?” Hubby ❤> Oh I’m gonna hug him so tight, you have no idea!” Hubby ❤ > 📎sent an attachment:

Hubby ❤ > And I did, it’s on the trunk well packed with yellow paper 🙊

You three chose to wear the special pajamas you bought. “Mx. Noel”, “Mr. Noel” & “Little Santa Helper” embroidered on the front of them. Pillows scattered in front of the fireplace with the three boots hanging from it, of course.

“So, here are the stars of the night, Law's sweetest creation, smiling cookies!” you cheer bringing three cups of cocoa, escorted by the kiddo bringing a batch with the cookies. Rosinante, of course, sitting on the floor -because he was banned from moving, just to avoid any unwanted accidents-.

Cora starts screaming, scaring Law with the shouts and the excitement, but making him laugh shortly after. “Excuse me little guy… that’s my…?” he asks, ready to attack Law with a million kisses. “UH… YOUR SMILE” he says, up and straightforward, hiding under his hat after because of the intense embarrassment.

But the hat didn’t last longer over his black spiky hair, because his dad had already knocked it off in a kisses and hugs attack. “AHHH DAD!!!” Law shouts, while you watch the fight next to you, and there is nothing else you could ever ask in your whole life. You were the richest person in the whole world.

After some story reading, you sitting in between Cora’s legs and Law sitting in between yours, drinking hot chocolate and enjoying the lovely cookies, Law finally fell asleep. “Oh he is asleep�� you whisper to your hubby. “Right, let’s take him to his bed”

Rosi and you carry the little bean to his bed, tucking him and kissing his forehead goodnight. “Sleep tight, son” Cora whispers, and you, on tippy toes, reach for his cheek to kiss him. “What a wonderful dad you are, babe”.

Before going to sleep you two enjoyed the cookies and milk “for Santa” and arranged the presents all around the tree. Rosi also used a little bit of flour to simulate Santa’s snowy boots footprints.

Cora wasn’t able to sleep until no more than 6 am on Christmas day. He was so excited he had to go and wake up Law to go see the gifts. And of course, cause “like father, like son” (even if they weren’t connected by blood) the two of them go downstairs running.

You, still with a sleepy face and messy hair, used your den den mushi to record the reaction. Law was on the verge of crying while opening his gifts. Tears of joy. He isn’t a consumerist child; he didn’t even ask for a gift in his letter to Santa. But the love he received was, for him, the most precious gift he could ever have gotten.

Oh, and the Sora figure.

He even slept with it for many many years. 💖~

[goldenroutledge]

killing me softly

pairing: john b. routledge x reader

word count: 1.8k

warning(s): mentions of death/a missing family member, mentions of grief & loss, sprinkles of angst but fluffy ending (i tried)

summary: checking up on john b after his father’s disappearance leads to an honest conversation about where you two stand.

a/n: this is my entry for the lovely @sweeterthansammy’s writing challenge! the prompt was blueberry muffins. i hope you like it and thanks for giving me the opportunity <33

john b. routledge masterlist

© goldenroutledge || do not plagiarize, repost, or translate my work in any way

Radio silent. A fair description for the lack of interaction John B initiated with the group over the last few weeks. And rightfully so. The disappearance and possible death of a parent— you could only imagine— would be hell to bear. Especially for a young, only child like John B.

He would often speak about how he loved being the only child in the house. There was no one he was obligated to share with, no one there to get on his nerves on a constant basis, and no one to split the presence of his father with. That was nice for a while; until Big John’s appearances on the island spread thinner and thinner, and to his son it felt as though he were dissipating.

With the support of his lifelong friends, he felt like he’d be okay. Though there were no biological ties between them all, he’d always consider the pogues his family.

JJ would stop by his place on the way home from a long shift at the Island Club. And although he was tired, he knew John B would crack a smile at the preppy uniform he had to wear.

Kiara would call a lot, as her parents were keeping close eyes on her. It was hard for the girl to visit as often as she would’ve liked, but John B hearing the girl’s voice while he sat and listened to her crazy stories was more than enough as is.

Pope would be the one to urge him to get outside. He’d ask the Routledge boy to come out on grocery deliveries with him, keep him company on whatever job Heyward had him doing for the day, and he’d even invite him over. Or more so his mother extended the invitation, urging her son to let his friend know he’s welcome in their home anytime.

And where you stood in this process, was pretty much all three of the others combined. At this point, John B could count on your arrival to his home on every Friday morning. Maybe afternoon, depending on how late you’d slept in.

After a few knocks and no answer, you debated on just walking right in. He was never one to lock his doors, and he told you knocking was unnecessary at this point, but you were all for privacy. “John B? You decent?”

“Kinda. Come on in!”

With a turn of the doorknob, you stepped in the house, prepared to keep your eyes on the ground if need be. Rain droplets soaked into the material of your heather gray jacket as you had been shielding the paper box of baked goods you were holding.

The freckled boy came around the corner to greet you, pulling on a T-shirt over his head, but your eyes were fixated on looking down. Pizza boxes, beer cans, pictures, and every piece of trash known to man made it extremely difficult to see the floor. Your nose scrunched at the questionable and mysterious smell coming from one area. “What the hell is all this?”

“I know, I know. I need to tidy up a bit. My fault.” John B admitted, hands up in surrender as he picked up a few pieces of trash and tossed it in the bin.

“I think there are raccoons living better than this.” You quipped, pinching the bridge of your nose to eliminate the smell passing through your airways. “How’d it even get this bad? I was just here last week!”

“Wish I could tell ya.” He shrugged in response, before his expression lifted and his fingers began wiggling towards the box you held. “What’s in here?”

You retracted the box from him, eyebrows furrowing while feigning offense. “Not even a hug first?”

With a joking eye roll, John B shuffled towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist, breathing in the sweet smell of your shampoo. “Now can I see what’s in the box?”

“Sure, you greedy little monster.” You retorted, placing the box on his coffee table and taking a seat at the couch. He followed suit, eyes widening as they landed upon two fresh blueberry muffins.

“Aw. All for me? You shouldn’t have.” He teased, voice muffled by the large bite he wasted no time in taking.

You smiled through a bite of your own blueberry muffin at his rush, focusing your attention on pulling on the wrapper to avoid bursting out into laughter.

Somehow, you ended up sitting in between John B’s outstretched legs as he played with your hair, blanket draped over your laps as you nibbled on your muffins, watching some random sitcom on TV to push out the sound of the rain outside. It was nice to see John B appear happy, even if he was lost and hurting on the inside.

When he noticed you seemed to be entranced in your own thoughts, his hand rubbed your shoulder concerningly. “You okay?”

“Yep. Just thinking.”

“Uh oh. That’s never a good idea.”

“Shut up.” You mumbled through a small laugh, toying with the bracelet on John B’s wrist that matched yours. “I better get going pretty soon. Promised Kie I’d help her clean her room. She’s always finding ways to get me over there.”

“You could always stay here, y’know. I think Kie can handle her room on her own.” John B presumed.

“So you want me to bail on Kie so we can sit here and watch TV all day?” You asked, rewording his question for him so he could hear how unfair it sounded.

“We don’t have to sit here and watch TV!” He suggested as if he had a long list of plans to get to. “We could make out or something.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his random proposal, but then again what else would you expect? “Really? And what would the ‘or something’ be?”

“We could uh… eat spaghetti Lady and the Tramp style? And we wouldn’t even have to kiss!” The freckled boy shouted as he tried to get his point across. You stood up while looking down at him, arms crossed over your chest as a smile creeped its way onto your face.

“You’re delusional. I seriously think the stench in here has been frying your brain— and you don’t even know it!”

“No frying up here, ma’am.” He argued, patting his head twice. “But I mean, have you never thought about it?”

“Thought about what?”

“Us. Together. Being more than friends.”

Your mouth ran dry as you stood still, unsure of how to answer and unsure as to how the conversation took a turn so quickly. It had been on John B’s mind for quite some time, seeing as he’s had plenty of time to sit around and be left with his thoughts. Something was up, he just needed some honesty.

“I don’t have time to go into this right now. Kie’s waiting on me.”

As you made your way out the door and onto the porch, John B was hot on your heels and following you just as fast. “You keep running away from this conversation, Y/n!” He added. “Just stay this time. Please?”

Sighing, you stopped your path for the screen door as you turned around to face him, arms raising then dropping to your sides. “Fine! Maybe I have. But maybe I know you need a friend right now so I decided not to be selfish and let it be known.”

“So, you didn’t tell me because you thought it was selfish? But keeping that secret from me isn’t?”

“You’re going through the hardest time of your life right now. I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t tell you that I’ve had feelings for you way before this all even happened.” You expressed, voice much softer as you hoped he would receive it better.

“So? What if I feel the same way?”

“John B… I don’t want you to feel the same way just because love feels better than grief. I don’t want you to have feelings for me just because it’s easier.”

“Well I can tell you this isn’t a new development of mine either. We’ve always acted like a couple without really being one. And I just need to know what’s going on. Everything is so confusing these days.”

“I know.” You muttered sympathetically, taking his hand in yours. “You need time to process things. To heal.”

“Us being together won’t stop that.”

“You can’t say that for sure.” You argued, tugging on his arm a little to try to get him to look you in the eyes. Just so he could know that you meant it. And to no avail. So you held his cheek in the other hand. “But I’ll still be here, every step of the way alright? Nobody said you had to go through it alone. And maybe when it’s all said and done, we can be together. But we have to be willing to put that on hold right now.”

As you vented, the hopeful gleam in his eyes shined a little bit brighter. “You’ll wait for me? That could take forever, Y/n. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“I’ll wait for however long it fucking takes, Routledge.” You confessed, tone breathless as you emphasized every word. “I’ve already got my mind made up, so there’s no stopping me now.”

The boy wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pressing his lips to the skin gently. “You’re stubborn. You know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” Your thumb brushed across his freckled cheek as you grinned.

“Don’t you have a room to clean?” John B questioned, reminding you of your previous commitment.

“Right! Kie’s gonna wonder where the hell I am. I’ll say traffic.”

“Alright. Drive safe.” JB spoke warmly in your ear as you embraced him, kissing his cheek before pulling away.

“I will!” You shouted over your shoulder, jogging down the steps off the porch. “See you soon! But I’ll talk to you sooner!”

“Oh, Y/n?” He called out, frame leaning against the open doorway of the porch as he watched you stop in your tracks at the sound of his voice. “Bring double blueberry muffins next time for my troubles.”

He laughed as you shot your middle finger in the air towards him, only wearing a matching smile on your face.

“We’ll see, no promises, though!” You jeered, knowing good and well that you’d be bringing four blueberry muffins to the Chateau next week. If he asked for a camel or a rock from the Grand Canyon, you’d most likely bring that too.

Though there was no countdown timer on how long one could grieve, only time would tell how long it would be until you two would be together. And no matter how long; what counted was that you both knew it would be well worth the wait.

a/n: not sure how i feel about this one yet but it’s growing on me! fun fact; i imagined it for jj when john b and sarah were presumed dead, but i thought this would be good for jb too? plus i’m already writing so much jj right now so the others need some love too lol. let me know what you guys think!!

taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @missevi @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @rudybarnes @annab-nana @babeyglo @reawritesthings @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @laneybobeczko-g @jjpouggues @j-j-may-bank @httpjolyne @eifhames @outerbankies @pogueslandia @k-roleplay20 @mildkleptomaniac @professional-busboy @mrs-cameron @maybanksslut @it-was-never-meant-to-be-boys @alanniys @sunnymaybank

[lavendermin]

how do u think abyss prince!aether would take care of their darling? Would love to hear ur opiniionn <33 I honestly imagine him being harsh and strict to everyone else but a softie for their own darling..(would even ask for smol kisses) hehe have a nice dayy mii >< oh and may i be 🥐 anon, if its not taken?

Oooo I love this question a lot because I hardly really delve into Abyss Prince Aether stuff! 🥐 anon my sweet and soft beloved thank u for getting the dusty cobwebs off of my brain so I can think critically about this for once. I really sat down to think this through based on what I know with current game lore (his personality we see, etc) and mix it in with some own fan image.

(Also of course you can be 🥐 anon ^^💗)

more under the cut (includes some lore spoilers)

There’s some cruelty that comes from ordering attacks on places like Mond and defiling archon statues, etc. But that’s the lens we have from not knowing what this ‘grander scheme’ is. And we also don’t know if Abyss Prince Aether really has a say in all this or is simply a puppet/figurehead. We’ve seen how Dvalin was corrupted through abyssal means. There’s too many ‘what if’s but that’s what gives this so much room to explore and build his character.

All that word vomit aside, I do think Aether would be more firm and a little colder to those that are following his orders (ie. heralds, mages, etc). A plan is a plan and he can’t afford any slip ups if what he’s trying to achieve is justice for the people of Khaenri’ah. This is just my speculation and personal theory I’ll be using for the sake of this hc!

Now… I love sprinkling some angst in stories here and there so bear with me ^^;; In this scenario, I consider darling to not be an underling, but let’s say you still have some kind of tie to Khaenri’ah. For this hypothetical plot’s sake let's say Aether has you taken in for strict protection since you’re a descendant of the fallen civilization. Of course he doesn’t want to be harsh to you— you’ve been through far enough for any more cruelty.

In this sense, he’s also all you have. And with him being away from his sibling, you also become a sort of grounding comfort to him— a disjointed feeling of ‘home’. I absolutely agree, though! Aether would on occasion be much more soft and maybe ask for a little smooch after a rough, stressful day. He finds solace in the warmth that radiates from you hand while you hold it on an idle evening. He allows himself some bias towards you.

You are bright, you are hope, you are a reason to keep pursuing this damned plan. Risk it all, or nothing. You’re just an innocent bystander in all this— an accessory, some might say, but just a fugitive nonetheless. At least that’s what the abyss mages tell you when Aether is too busy to keep you company.

There’s plenty of manipulation they do on their end while Aether is away. But it keeps you pliant and by his side all the more. ‘Fear mongering’ they called it. It does bring plenty of nightmares sometimes, and Aether is always there to bring some soothing reassurances.

“It’s alright,” he’ll say in a hushed voice, bringing you close. The room is dark, cold and uninviting after bad dreams like these. It leaves you a shivering and startled wreck— your eyes are wide with fear like a deer caught in the headlights. Aether smooths his hands through your messy bedhead trying to calm you down. “I’m still here. Nothing will hurt you.”

And you were so, so strong. Or at least, you pretended to be. Within minutes you force an apologetic smile, sitting up properly.

“I’m… I’m okay now, Aether,” you reassure despite the tremble of your lips. His hand goes to cup your cheek and you place your subtly trembling hand over his without a second thought.

He’s searching your eyes for truth, but perhaps what he finds in them is a hundred times more frightening than any lie. There’s an unbreakable devotion and something far more dangerous in your eyes.

Aether is all you have.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you ask, eyes wide with naïveté.

“Like you worship me. As if I’m some higher being,” he frowns at the words, a bitter aftertaste lingering in the back of his mind.

It strikes something in you, a sort of fear of rejection. The regret is instant when it hits him.

He knows he’s made a wrong move when you shrink into yourself, a small pout on your face. And just as easily as he breaks the moment, Aether is quick to mend it.

The soft press of his lips on the side of your head brings your gaze slowly back to him. It’s always painful to see how you hang onto him like a lifeline. “I’m sorry— for that.”

You sigh but break into a tired smile nonetheless. “You just… mean a lot to me, Aether. I don’t worship you,” you clarify, leaning forward to rest your head into the crook of his neck as he opts to rub small, reassuring circles into your back. “I love you— there’s a difference between the two.”

He hums in response, says nothing more on it, but allows a smile to grace his lips. It’s a rare indulgence, given the current circumstances, but with you he feels like there’s no harm in feeling a moment of peace.

The lightest of tugs on his scarf brings him back to the present moment. Your eyes are nothing if not a labyrinth of hope and a web of responsibility on his being. “Will you sleep next to me tonight? Just… until I fall asleep again.”

And like every night, Aether agrees with a nod and a smile that reminds you of home. “I’ll see you off into your dreams, don’t worry. Rest.”

The hours where you lay in a peaceful slumber keep him awake and in his thoughts. Aether dotes on you, and an alarming amount at that. However he had no choice but to keep you stuck to his side at all times— for your safety, he convinced himself. But… Were you really trapped with him? Or through invisible strings of fate was he trapped with you?

For now, that answer doesn’t matter. His priority is keeping your smile, maintaining the hope for a change that you’re tragically bound to. Yes, the most frightening truth is that he needs you all the more. This is why he keeps you safe and sound in this metaphorical cage of gold.

Through your eyes, he is sweet and caring. The only light of your life. He’ll do his best to keep it that way. Because he loves you, too.

[lailoken]

‘:Formulae:’ [Pt. 2]

“Jewell'd Waters of Radiance.

A Sacred Bath For Women; being a most excellent preparation for the rites of any sylvan goddess, nymph, female spirit or deific form. The Balneum requires generous amounts of fresh flowers, hence several hours should be allotted for gathering, being ever mindful of the spirits to be honour'd.

Leaf of Raspberry, dry. 35 g.

Rose Petals, fresh. 35 g.

Cherry Blossoms, fresh. 35 g.

Blossoms of Honeysuckle, fresh. 35 g.

Orange Flower Water. 350 ml.

Rose Absolute. 13 drops.

Let a cold infusion of the fresh blossoms be made, allowing them to steep in large seal'd vessels of well or spring water. Make a hot infusion of the Berry Leaves, with sufficient boiling water to cover. Seal in a stopper'd jar and steep for 30 minutes. When the Bath is drawn, strain the Leaf infusion decoction into the water, along with the Orange flower water and Rose Absolute. Add double the amount of Salt of Lilith to the ablution, and agitate the waters. Finally, pour in the cold infusions, leaving the fresh flowers to float freely. Let the Spirit to Be Honour'd be invoked with the Wand of Quickening, and the bath-chamber lit with candles.

Aqueum Liliya.

A lustral sacrifice for ritual conveyance of the benedictions of Lilith in her fully waxed, angelic, and tutelary lunation. The bath may be modified for succubi, nymphs, or water-spirits. All flowers should be fresh-gathered in Her name.

Petals of White Roses. 200

Blossom of Jasmine. 200

Blossom of Gardenia. 100

Blossom of Lily. 3

Blossom of Angel's Trumpet. 1

Place into the Working Basin and cover with 4 litres of cold spring water. Knead the blossoms gently between the fingers for several moments while a graven image of the Lady is silently focused upon with Eye and Heart. Let stand for three hours prior to use in a quiet, sheltered place, away from the light, with a single white candle lit for the Lady before her Idol. During the rite wherein the lustration is to be employed, the Lady should be invoked with a wand of Crooked Willow or Tamarisk, and the branch employed to quicken the florid waters. The petals should be left in the waters and the lustration sprinkled upon the crowns, brows, and palms of those who would receive the Lady's goodness.

Waters of Magnetism.

An excellent bath for increasing Charisma or one's natural Charms, ideal for attracting a mate or other sexual glamours. The Balneum may also be used prior to gambling. Owing to the seasonal nature of Cherry and Quince, the Bath is best employ'd in Spring. Cherry blossoms are rarely found at the local apothecary. Thus, one must gather one's own in Spring. One may also employ blossoms of Apple, Plum, Pear, or Peach for like effect.

Cherry Blossoms, fresh or dried. 200

Blossoms of Flowering Quince, fresh. 100

Chamomile Blossoms, fresh or dried. 100

Rose Buds, fresh. 30

Steep in enough boiling water to cover. Let the infusion sit for 10 minutes. Strain into bathwater, washing the Herb material through several times. Immerse oneself for at least 30 minutes and allow the waters to air-dry on the skin after emerging.

Lustration of Mercurius.

A bath appropriate for invoking the patron of magic, and alchymic wisdom. This Bath of the Wise grants especial gifts prior to labours of the spiritual laboratory.

Lavender Blossoms. 30 g.

Essential Oil of Lavender. 8 drops

Essential Oil of Sandalwood. 8 drops

Kosher Salt. 60g.

Epsom Salt. 60 g.

Infuse Lavender Blossoms in 1.5 litres boiling water for the space of 30 minutes. Strain and add to a 300 litre bath and stir in, adding salt and oils. For best results, soak for at least 40 minutes and drip dry afterward.

Warrior's Ablution.

A stimulating brew to lend power during confrontations with enemies, the law, or for use prior to negotiations.

Leaf of Rosemary, fresh. 70 g.

Cinnamon chips. 30 g.

Bloom of Chamomile, dry. 30 g.

Flowers of Broom. 30 g.

Add Rosemary and Cinnamon to a cooking vessel with enough water Bring to a boil, cover, and simmer 15 minutes. In a separate vessel, steep the Broom and Chamomile blossoms in 1 litre boiling water. Strain both infusion and decoction and discard Herbal material, adding the liquids to the bathwater. cover.

Earthing Bath.

For drawing stray powers back into the Corpus, centering the Mind, and subduing quarrelsome spirits.

Linden blossom, dried. 60 g.

Oak, leaves and twigs, dried and crumbl'd. 60 g.

Leaf of Wormwood. 33 g.

Infuse the Linden and Wormwood in 1.5 litre boiling water for 20 minutes. As it is steeping, simmer Oak leaves in 1 litre of water for 20 minutes. Strain both fluids into the bath tub and soak as long as is needed.

Midsummer Gold.

A Solar infusion made from traditional Herbs for washing the body and clearing and fortifying the aethyric orb.

Herb of St. Johnswort, dry. 30 g.

Herb of Vervain, dry. 30 g.

Leaf of Mugwort, dry. 25 g.

On the morning of the Summer Solstice, seal each of the Herbs in a separate steeping jar with enough water to completely fill the vessel. Allow to steep for at least four hours in the sunlight, absorbing the Solar Genius at the peak of its power. During this time of steeping, the very Fires of the Sun should be invoked and beseech'd into the Womb of the Waters of the Moon. In this conjunctio the Fruits of Our Labour arise. The exhausted plant matter is then strained out, and the resulting infusions mixed. The potentiated wash may be poured on the head while holding clear in the Imaginal Eye the Solar virtues cleansing the crown, and gradually seeping into the entirety of the aethyric orb. The wash may also be added to bathwater for extended soaking.

Floor Wash.

A general but potent Encharmed Solution for cleansing the oratory or home of Noxious Spirits or in the wake of an unpleasant event.

Leaf of Vervain, dry. 40 g.

Leaf of Sagebrush, dry. 30 g.

Leaf of Thyme. 20 g.

Root of European Mandrake. 7 g.

Steep Vervain, Sagebrush and Thyme in 1 litre boiling water, leaving to stand in an airtight jar for 7 hours before filtering. In a separate cooking vessel, add Mandrake to 400 ml. water and bring to a boil. Simmer 20 minutes. Filter and reserve liquid, burying the boil'd Root in an honourable location and with a coin and thanks. Add to Herbal infusion when it has been strained.

Purification Bath.

A relaxing bath excellent for quieting and realigning the disrupted psyche, as well as nourishing and envigorating the bastions of spiritual defence. Our Fair Decoction may be simmered longer than the 15 minutes given, up to 25. The resulting brew may be used for a cold bath as well, omitting the salts and oil.

Fir Needle. 50 g.

Atlas Cedar. 33 g.

Epsom Salt. 30 g.

Root of Valerian, chopped. 25 g.

Root of Calamus, chopped. 25 g.

Essential Oil of Sandalwood. 5 drops.

Bring 1 litre of water to a boil. Add Fir, Cedar, Calamus and Valerian. Cover and simmer for 15 minutes. Strain and add to hot bath water, along with essential oil and salt. For cases of extreme disruption, double the amount of Fir, Salt, and True Oil of Sanders.

Mist of Dispersion.

For banishing rude spirits or flocculum abomini. Mix all ingredients in 4 oz. atomizer bottle and agitate before use.

Essential Oil of Palmarosa. 5 drops.

Essential Oil of Fir. 4 drops.

Essential Oil of Juniper Berry. 3 drops.

Essential Oil of Atlas Cedar. 2 drops.

Essential Oil of Birch. 1 drop.

Water. 75 ml.

Perfumer's Alcohol or 100 proof spirit. 40 ml.

Asperge Sylvaticus.

A suitable brew for asperging brethren prior to Congregational works of sorcery. The ingenium derives from a subtil congressus of the Lord and Lady of the Desert, the Lord of the Forest, and the Lady of the Garden.

Leaf of Sagebrush, crumbl'd. 33 g.

Leaf of Douglas Fir, Larch, or Hemlocks, chopp'd. 30 g.

Leaf of Scent'd Geranium. 30 g.

Leaf of Wormwood. 5

Make a strong decoction of the Fir, Hemlock or Larch with 1 litre of water in a covered cauldron, simmered for fifteen minutes. Pour the hot decoction over the remaining ingredients in a steeping vessel and let stand seal'd for half an hour. Strain and asperge with a branch of the evergreen employ'd. Tincture of Myrrh may also be added in small amounts to enhance the cleansing virtue.

Mist of Severity.

Another Compound'd Mist for the more potent workings of Exorcism or in instances of stubborn hauntings. Mix all ingredients and store in 4 oz. atomizer bottle, shaking before use.

Essential Oil of Hyssop. 5 drops.

Essential Oil of Cajeput. 4 drops.

Essential Oil of Juniper Berry. 4 drops.

Essential Oil of Black Peppercorn. 3 drops.

Water. 75 ml.

Perfumer's Alcohol or 100 proof spirit. 40 ml.

The Viridian Broom.

A potent asperge for sprinkling, using a fresh bough of Cypress.

Sprig of Douglas Fir, chopp'd. 35 g.

Herbe of Pennyroyal, whole flowering. 35 g.

Leaves of Cypress. 28 g.

Berries of Juniper, crush'd well. 25.

Place Douglas Fir, Cypress and Juniper Berries in the Wort-Cauldron with 1 litre of water, and bring to a boil. Simmer, cover'd, for 20 minutes. Remove from Heat and add the Pennyroyal. Strain when cool.

Sorcerer's Hand Wash.

For hand-anointing prior to works of the Magical Arte. Place 11 Devil's Shoestrings, along with a slice of the very best Galangal Root, a twig of True Cinnamon, a pinch of Sweet Tobacco, and a small slice of True Mandrake in a bottle of dark glass and fill with 151 Proof Rum. Stopper, storing in a dark place. Gems or minerals sympathetic to the magician may also be added as desired.

Balneum of the Wayfarer.

A blessed wash especially for the feet prior to Sojourning forth in the Greenwood, or for such as wander long in lonely places, giving invigoration and purpose to the stride. Fresh-harvest'd Rhizome of Wild Ginger (Asarum spp.) may be substituted for Ginger.

Root of Ginger, fresh, sliced. 90 g.

Leaf of Bay, fresh. 50.

Leaf of Holy Basil, fresh. 40 g.

Make strong decoctions of the Ginger and Bay in separate vessels. Pour both over the Basil into a large Hermeticus and steep for ten minutes. Pour wash without straining into a basin and soak feet for 30 minutes prior to Sojourn.”

—

Ars Philtron:

Concerning the Aqueous Cunning of the Potion and its Praxis in the Green Arte Magical

by Daniel A. Schulke

[inkykeiji]

day 3 ❅ you are my home, my home for all seasons

don’t cry snowman, don’t you fear the sun, who’ll carry me without legs to run?

day two ❅ day three ❅ day four | series masterlist

characters: todoroki touya | dabi ft. todoroki natsuo

genre: smut + angst

notes: WAAAAH okay listen i swear to god this was not supposed to be as long as it is. uhhhh just over half of this is smut, pls pay attention to the warnings below n stay safe! <33 | title credit: snowman by sia

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), one (1) non-graphic fist fight, tense family dynamics, generally toxic relationships, size difference, drug use, threesome, rough sex, cumplay/snowballing, a hint of mindbreak, slight dacryphilia, slight degradation

words: 7.7k

synopsis:

And the way his eyes glitter as he gazes at you, the way his fingers trace your jaw and then smooth down your hair, melts all of the anxiety and anger that had been building in your chest, burns it all to ash and sweeps it away just like that, with that one look and that gentle caress.

Because his sapphire eyes hold so much love it’s almost suffocating, overwhelming in the best way, has you endlessly craving more, more, more; and his soft touches speak volumes, rough hands scarred and stained with blood he’ll never be able to wash off, so tender when they touch you like this.

I think…I think he really loves her.

And suddenly, none of it matters anymore, Fuyumi’s words and Rei’s worry no longer holding any weight. All that matters is that you love him, and he loves you, and that’s all you need.

    ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅    

It storms, the day of December 23rd; a nasty blizzard that has the wooden shutters banging against the outside of the cabin, harsh gusts of air rattling the glass windows as it viciously hurls snow and ice against them.

“God, you can’t see fucking anything!”

“Language, Natsuo,” Rei chides softly, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she stares out at the white, at the nothingness, just endless swirls of deceptively pretty snow, being tossed in every direction by fierce winds.

“We can’t even see the cars, and they’re only a few feet away!” Fuyumi whines. “So much for tubing today,”

“That’s alright,” Rei says, forcing her lips into a smile as she turns towards her children. “We’ll just have to find other ways to entertain ourselves, that’s all,”

And not one of you misses the uneasy trembling in her voice.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

“Up,”

Black obscures your vision for a moment as Touya tugs his shirt over your head, a shiver coursing through your body as your skin is exposed to the cool air of your shared bedroom.

“You cold?” Touya teases, tweaking a peaked nipple.

“Niichan!” you whine, swatting at his hand, blood rushing to your face, cheeks tingling with embarrassment.

“Cute,” Touya smirks, the tips of his fingers caressing a burning cheek before he turns away, rooting through a drawer and looking for your dress today. “It’s adorable that you’ll let me stick my cock in you, or fuck your throat, or coat you entire body in cum, but you still get embarrassed by those little things,”

He turns back to face you with a stupid, goofy smile on his face, though his eyes are shining with mirth, and you can’t help the soft giggle that bubbles past your lips, sprinkled throughout your shy little shut up, niichan!

It’s routine at this point, your actions entirely automatic as your naked body slides off the bed, Touya kneeling to pull a fresh pair of panties—lavender today, trimmed with lace and ribbon—up your legs, lips scattering a few kisses along your thigh as he does so. Arms raise into the air, almost expectantly, as Touya straightens up again, slipping a long sleeved babydoll dress over your head—crushed velvet and plum purple, this time—helping pull your arms through before smoothing it down your body.

Stepping back to assess you, to admire you, Touya dusts his hands together. “Do you think you can pull on your tights by yourself today?”

Your eyebrows furrow, but you nod anyways. Of course you can, you’re a big girl, you know.  

“Perfect.” He turns on his heel. “Then, I’ll be back,” he tosses over his shoulder casually, as if there isn’t a blizzard raging outside. “Stay put, yeah?”

“Wait, what?” tiny finger curl in the material of his sleeve, tugging a little. “You’re going out in that?”

“Just for a moment—”

“Niichan!” the honorific comes out as a gasp, your hand smacking his bicep. “Do you have a deathwish?”

“Baby,” he begins, gently taking your face between two large palms, voice supercilious as if speaking to a child. “I need to smoke, or I’m going to crawl out of my fucking skin, do you understand? Natsuo’s gonna come,”

“I wanna—”

“No.” he says instantly, eyes flashing, your body instinctually cowering from his tone. “I’ll only be a minute, I promise,” he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Relax, it’s just a little snow! I want you to sit here like the perfect little good girl you are, and not move until I come back, okay?”

Lips pulling down into an involuntary frown, you nod in his grasp, watching him go with a little pout. It’s only after you hear the backdoor slam, pulled shut by the sheer force of the wind, that you hear them.

“He’s got her entirely brainwashed!” Fuyumi’s muffled voice carries through the walls.

“I’m not quite sure that’s it,” Rei responds, trying to gently reason with her daughter.

“Oh my God, what are you talking about!”

You creep off the bed, springs squeaking under your weight.

“Fuyumi,” Rei sighs, and you imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose. “When’s the last time you saw Touya smile like that? When’s the last time you saw your older brother this happy?”

Bare feet make the softest little pad…pad…pad… against the hardwood as you tiptoe towards the door.

“Mom…” Fuyumi trails off, her voice softer when she speaks again. “It doesn’t make it right, though,”

The brass knob turns slowly, carefully, silently, and you pull the door open just a crack, just enough to push your ear close to the sliver and listen.

The master bedroom is at the end of the hallway, but the door is wide open, their voices floating through the vacant corridor.

Rei responds after a beat of silence. “Would he stop even if I told him to? Is it even worth the fight, at this point?”

And she sounds so sad, so defeated that it drives a dull, throbbing ache deep in your chest, a hand coming up to press against your body, trying to quell it.

“I think…” Rei trails off, and your breathing halts. “I think he really loves her,”

Her words probably shouldn’t inspire such wicked sparks of joy that shoot through your veins and up your spine, but they do, and you have to press your lips together to keep a giddy smile from spreading across your face. So other people do see it.  

“Oh God, give me a break, he’s—���

“I’m serious, Fuyumi,” Rei cuts her off sharply, voice curt. “I haven’t…He’s never stayed with someone for this long, never cared about anyone as much as he cares about her—you can see it in his eyes,”

“But—But she’s his sister, mom!” Fuyumi cries. “It isn’t okay!”

“Keep your voice down,” Rei scolds, sounding exasperated. She’s quiet for a moment. “You’re right. It isn’t okay. But I…” her voice fades, and you think you hear sniffling, the thought stinging your own eyes. “I can’t take that from him, Yumi, I just can’t,”

A tense silence settles, and you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears, body rigid and tight as you wonder if the conversation’s over.

“She doesn’t deserve that, you know. He doesn’t, either,”

Fuyumi’s words, murmured so quietly you have to strain to hear them, light a ferocious fire in your chest, sending scalding fury burning through your veins. How dare she!

Your teeth grind together, hand gripping the doorknob so tightly it begins to jiggle. How dare she insinuate that Touya doesn’t deserve your love. How dare she imply that he isn’t capable of loving, when she barely knows a goddamn thing about him.

Sparkling cobalt flashes through your mind, accompanied by that pearly, lopsided smile and that thoaty, syrupy voice that’s always dripping with just a touch of indifference, and your heart swells.

Touya takes care of you better than anyone ever has in your entire life. Touya makes sure you’re well fed, well groomed, well dressed. Touya ensures your final year university assignments get done in a timely manner, buys you whatever you want, whenever you want it. Touya provides for and cares about and loves you.

How dare she pretend as if she understands any of that, as if she knows anything about your relationship at all, as if it’s any of her damn business in the first place.

“What about her father? What does he think about this whole situation?” Fuyumi asks a few moments later, when it’s clear Rei isn’t going to respond, capturing your attention again, jaw clenching.

Another deep sigh, one that surely has her chest heaving with the force of it, echoes down the hallway. “He refuses to talk about it any time I try to bring it up, so I’ve stopped trying. He’d rather just…not know, I guess, ignore it and pretend it doesn’t exist, and just look away. I don’t—I don’t think he can bear the thought, so he just…doesn’t.”

Exhaustion is heavy in your step-mother’s voice, weighing down her words and diminishing the flames raging in your chest to smoldering embers, hand relaxing its grip around the doorknob.

“If that were me and Natsuo—”

“That’s enough,”

“Or me and Shouto—”

“I said, that’s enough, Fuyumi.” Rei snaps, and you flinch—in all the years you’ve known her, you’ve never heard her use that tone of voice. It’s unusual, unfamiliar, unsettling.

Heavy footsteps begin stomping up the stairs, cutting off your thoughts, and you yelp softly, scampering back towards the bed. Touya pushes through the door a moment later, eyebrows knitting as azure eyes dart from your untouched tights, still sitting neatly folded on the bed where he placed him, to your bare legs, then drifting up to your face.

“Why aren’t your tights on, princess?” he tilts his head, a smile playing at his lips, more relaxed now that he’s smoked. “Willfully misbehaving? Or are you not such a big girl after all?”

And the way his eyes glitter as he gazes at you, the way his fingers trace your jaw and then smooth down your hair, melts all of the anxiety and anger that had been building in your chest, burns it all to ash and sweeps it away just like that, with that one look and that gentle caress.

Because his sapphire eyes hold so much love it’s almost suffocating, overwhelming in the best way, has you endlessly craving more, more, more; and his soft touches speak volumes, rough hands scarred and stained with blood he’ll never be able to wash off, so tender when they touch you like this.

I think…I think he really loves her.

And suddenly, none of it matters anymore, Fuyumi’s words and Rei’s worry no longer holding any weight. All that matters is that you love him, and he loves you, and that’s all you need.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

By the late afternoon, you’ve all begun to get antsy, resulting in Rei feeling like her kids are actual children again and wracking her mind for an activity to keep you all occupied. She decides on baking and decorating gingerbread men and then a Christmas movie marathon after dinner, gathering the family in the kitchen as her hands nervously rearrange the ingredients she’s laid out on the table.

Everyone’s already a little on edge, shoulders tense and tight any time Touya and Shouto are in the same room together, and you swear the air is electric, cracking and popping with shocks and zaps anytime one of them bristles at something the other said.

Like a storm is brewing.

The entire family works hard to keep them as far away from each other as possible, and attempts to minimize any type of contact at all: seating them on opposite ends of the table, keeping them sandwiched between moderators—family members who speak cautiously in gentle voices, who carefully and dutifully steer the conversation away from a fight—and even going as far to give each ‘group’ their own mixing bowl and baking tools.

The ingredients, however, they have to share.

It feels like a competition: who can make their dough the fastest, who can decorate their cookies the nicest, who can stay the most faithful to the recipe, who’s cookies taste the best.

And yet, none of these efforts seem to matter, because Shouto’s very presence, Shouto’s very existence, infuriates Touya to no end. They clash like thunder and lightning, silent strikes of white-hot fury that you can almost see flashing through the air—Shouto snickering quietly, or making some snide comment muttered under his breath, or reacting to something Touya does with a roll of his eyes or a scoff—followed by a clap of menacing thunder; rumbling—a tremorous growl deep within Touya’s chest; and roaring—the way his deep voice booms through the space; and rolling—his hand clutching you: your hand, your thigh, your wrist, anything he can latch onto to keep him grounded, to keep him sane.

It only continues to build as the day progresses, explosive magma rising higher, and higher, and higher with each spiteful word spit through clenched teeth, each ridiculing laugh ringing out around the room, each malicious look shot in the others direction, until it finally erupts, spouting blistering lava that scorches everything in its path, that seeps through the cracks, beginning to corrode that mask Shouto has been steadily chipping away at.

It was bound to happen eventually—no matter how hard any of you had tried to pretend, you had all known it. It had only been a question of when.

The answer to that question, apparently, is after dinner.

You aren’t even sure how it began, exactly, busy washing dishes with Rei in the kitchen, but your blood runs cold when you hear Natsuo quietly urging Touya to stop, don’t, it isn’t worth it, and Touya growling at Natsuo to let go of him, don’t fucking touch him.

Rei hears it too, of course, because the plate she was scrubbing slips from her hands and cracks as it collides with the aluminum sink, sheer panic etched into her face, wiping sudsy hands on her cardigan as she hurries towards the voices with you in tow.

Shouto’s barking out a laugh as you both round the corner—a harsh, almost piercing sound that echoes throughout the cabin, void of any humour.

“I’m not afraid of you anymore,”

And though his face is harder than marble, eyes positively glaring at his eldest brother, his voice shakes a bit.

Touya picks up on it, of course, because Touya picks up on everything.

“That so?” He asks casually with a shrug, eyes beginning to glitter as Shouto involuntarily shrinks away from him. “Shame. Whaddya say we fix that?”

Touya has always been quick, has always been seemingly one or two steps ahead of everyone else. He reaches around his body, lithe fingers running along the waistband of his jeans, and groans out a curse when his hand meets nothing—Nastuo still has his gun.

That’s fine, he shrugs a little, dangerous smirk on his face as Shouto’s eyes watch his hands with laboured breathing as fingers dip into his front pocket, curling and finding it empty—Natuso still has his blade, too.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Touya hisses, Natsuo’s words from after the snowball incident echoing through his mind. You can have these back, he had said sternly, as if speaking to a fucking toddler, when you’re in your car, behind the wheel, all packed up and ready to go Christmas Day.  

Well, that’s alright, Touya supposes, because his fists are weapons in their own right, too, aren’t they?, large hands flexing before curling into tight balls, sapphire eyes glinting in the warm light, teeth bared in a petrifying smile as he cracks his neck.

And it all happens so fast, like a cat pouncing on its prey, nothing but a blur of ivory and black colliding with crimson and cream, a mess of bruised knuckles and split lips and flowing scarlet—so much scarlet, streaming from noses and smeared across cracked picture frames, seeping through little slashes and spit from between clenched teeth.

Something shatters, someone screams, but it all sounds muffled to you, distant and far away as you stare dazedly at the mess of limbs on the hardwood floor a few feet away, watching as brilliant galaxies of periwinkle bloom rapidly on smooth skin, and everything feels numb.

Natsuo manages to catch Touya, receiving an elbow to the stomach in the process as he hooks his arms under Touya’s and hoists him off of their baby brother. Shouto leaps to his feet, ready to lunge at his now incapacitated brother, but your father grabs him before he can, holding him back, arms wrapping around him in an iron grip.

The softest sob sounds, all eyes snapping towards it.

Rei stands with her arms wrapped around herself, gleaming grey eyes darting between her eldest and youngest, and everything stills.

“You leave my sight for two seconds—” she starts, blinking hard as fat tears roll down her cheeks, the rest of the sentence getting lodged in her throat. “Two seconds, a-and—and you—I am so—so—”

She’s unable to force the words through her trembling lips, but she doesn’t need to.

I am so disappointed in you.

Natsuo’s able to haul Touya off to the first floor washroom, curses still spewing from your niichan’s lips as he thrashes against his brothers grip, volatile and malignant and stuffed full of hostility, his rough voice breaking with them. His eyes look glossy, and you think he may even be crying, though it’s hard to tell with his aggressive writhing in Natsuo’s strong arms, muscles bulging under the thin material of his shirt.

Touya’s hands tremble as he taps out those little round pills, as white as the snow outside, a few clattering to the floor during the process. Your fingers knot together in front of your body, wringing and unwringing as you watch Touya toss several in his mouth, dry swallowing them expertly before leaning against the counter, fingers curling around the edge, exhaling a shaky breath.

“Sh-Should he be taking that many?” Your eyes dart to Natsuo, who’s propped up against the bathroom door, your forehead creased in worry. He laughs a little, coos at you as if you’re so cute for worrying about your niichan, like your niichan didn’t just down four oxys at once—before bothering to clean himself up, before bothering to do anything—and wraps an arm around your shoulder, tugging you towards him.

It’s comforting, and you automatically snuggle into the warmth, still shaken up from the events that occurred in the past twenty minutes, burying your head in his chest and inhaling, letting the palliative scent of fresh mint and lemon with a hint of blue raspberry fill your lungs.  

He needs them, Natsuo tells you in that gentle voice, in that trusting voice, his thumb rhythmically stroking your back, voice vibrating against your cheek and reassuring you that It’s alright, he’s fine, he just needs a little something to calm him down, to sedate him.

This is the best option, he promises you, stone eyes soothing and familiar when you gaze up at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth. With the snow storm happening outside and all.

He has a point, you guess. Whether you like it or not, Touya’s still undoubtedly trapped in this tiny cabin with Shouto for at least the next twelve hours.

It’s a low dose, he ensures with a kiss pressed to the side of your head, “Gave ‘em to him myself,”

You feel like you can breathe again, Natsuo’s calming words taming the irregular palpitating in your chest, soft fingers swiping across your cheeks, catching glistening tears as he consoles you.

It’s okay. He’s okay. He’ll be okay.

What Natsuo doesn’t tell you, though, is that Touya needs them in more ways than one, that Touya actually ran out of the oxys he had brought for the trip, the ones that were supposed to last him the full five days, and that Natsuo’s pulled from his personal stash to give him more, because the last thing anyone needs on top of this disaster is Touya suffering a fucking opioid withdrawal.

He leaves to check on Shouto shortly after, muttering something about shoving a few pills down his throat, too, to mellow him out.

You pretend not to hear it, rushing towards Touya the moment the door shuts, latching onto him from behind and nuzzling your face into his back, tears threatening to suffocate you again.

Touya turns in your grasp, wrapping large arms around you and squeezing you to his chest, clutching you like a lifeline as his fingers dig into your flesh, head dropping and cheek resting against the crown of your head as he repeats Natsuo’s words.

It’s okay. He’s okay. He’ll be okay—as long as you never leave him.

And you won’t. You wouldn’t. You never will.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

The movie marathon, to everyone’s surprise, proceeds as scheduled. It’s awkward, and no one actually wants to be there, but Rei’s face is still stained with tears, streaks of sticky salt decorating her cheeks, and none of you have the heart to leave her when she throws on some staticky old cartoon and collapses on one of the couches—not even Touya.

No one talks about it, either. No one talks about the shards of broken glass Fuyumi swept from the floor, or the ugly, weblike crack Shouto’s head left when it whacked off the drywall.

There’s nothing to talk about, you guess, bitterness stinging the back of your tongue, sinking in your chest, as you snuggle into Touya’s lap.

But Touya’s feeling better—Touya’s feeling good, large hands running down your bare thighs, kneading the flesh before he drags them back up, under your dress, the thick quilt draped over your lap obscuring his actions from the others.

“N-Niichan,” you whisper, turning to shove your burning face in his neck and whimpering when he chuckles lowly, a dark sound that has scalding heat pooling deep in the pit of your stomach, that has your thighs clamping together and trapping his hand.

“Shh, behave,” he murmurs into your hair, waiting for your thighs to relax before his hand continues its ministrations, creeping up, up, up until he reaches your clit, flicking his thumb over it once. A gasp spills from your lips, and Touya pinches the sensitive bud, lips at your ear. “I said, behave,”

So you do—or, you try, legs spreading wider for him, molars sinking into the flesh of your inner cheek to keep from mewling. Because that’s all you want, really—to be good for him, to be his good girl, to help him forget, to do anything you can to alleviate his stress and make him feel better.

Touya teases you for the entirety of the marathon, continuously driving you to the edge and teetering you on the cliff, tempting you with the fall, the plunge, the release, before dragging you away from it, only to repeat the process again, and again, and again. Skilled fingers have it down to a fucking science at this point, circling your clit in quick, hard motions, until your thighs are trembling and your hips are pathetically trying to buck into his touch. Such reactions are always his cue to stop, to back off, immediately slowing to unhurried figure eights, sometimes pressing his fingertips into your hole just a little through the thin cotton of your panties. And then, he waits, waits until every muscle unclenches, relaxes, until your breathing evens back out and your whines fade, decreasing in frequency, until the gentle, featherlight touches of nimble fingers against your swollen clit have almost put you to sleep, just to simply begin it again.

The bulge in his jeans strains eagerly against the denim, and it’s hard, so hard, pressed up against your thigh. Long, slender fingers catch your wrist when you try to cup it, to offer him some relief, sapphire eyes flashing as he shakes his head slowly. A deep pout etches itself into your face, you just want to help, but Touya growls in your ear, orders you to stop being a fucking brat, chest rumbling against your back.

And by the end of it, you’re covered in a glistening layer of sweat, legs quivering so bad that you’re barely able to stand, the cotton of your panties soaked all the way through and sticking uncomfortably to your aching pussy, your slick slippery on your inner thighs after having seeped through the thin material.

Everything hurts, muscles feeling like they’ve been filled with sand, Touya chuckling as he stands and stretches his hands above his head, cock still straining painfully against black denim, and murmuring about how cute you are when you’re tired.

“Tired,” Natsuo snorts with a roll of his eyes, just after the rest of your family has trudged up the stairs to get ready for bed, Fuyumi struggling to support a barely coherent Shouto.

You look over at him, head quirking curiously.

“You two were misbehaving,” he smirks, glancing between your faces self-righteously. “You were quite naughty tonight, don’t you think?”

Pricks of humiliation crawl along your skin. He noticed?

Of course he did, how could he not? His voice is sharp, stings like a slap to the face, a tone you don’t hear very often from him, and it wasn’t very fair to make him sit through that and not be able to touch, was it?

“No, it wasn’t,” Touya agrees with a shake of his head, sounding almost solemn, though amusement glitters in his azure eyes, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. I think we should make it up to poor Natsuo, princess. Don’t you?

They’re looking at you like a pair of starving jaguars, stone and sapphire eyes glinting dangerously in the hazy yellow light the little lamp provides as they prowl towards you, trapping you between their bodies and the edge of the couch.

“I-I…” your voice dies in your throat, eyes darting between the two men as your heart begins to race. You don’t know, you aren’t sure, is this even allowed?  

Then they’re laughing at you, cooing at you as their hands paw at your body, pinching and cupping and squeezing, Touya murmuring about how you’re going to help Natsuo out like a good girl while carrying you up to your shared bedroom and placing you on the bed, Natsuo following close behind, shutting the door with a gentle kick of his foot.

Then Natsuo’s crawling onto the bed beside you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I bet you look so pretty when you cum, baby,” His voice is low, rough, and it makes your stomach flutter.

His words pull an unexpected gasp from your throat and your eyes find his, blinking twice in genuine question. “D-Do you think about that?”

“Fuck,” he nearly whimpers, sharing a look with Touya, who chuckles smugly, leaning against the wall a few feet away, arms crossed casually over his chest.

“I told you,”

Forehead wrinkling as your brow furrows, your gaze darts between the two of them, unsure of exactly what it is they’re talking about.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Natsuo breathes, eyes hooded as they scan your body slowly, working back up to your face as he grinds the heel of his hand against his hardening cock. “I think about it,”

The burning deep in your belly flares at his dark stare, thighs rubbing together as you hold his eyes, sweet little pants escaping your parted lips. Make it up to him, huh?

“I wanna—” you start, looking over at Touya and swallowing thickly. “Can I cum on his cock?”

Natsuo chokes on a whine the moment the words leave your lips. “Christ, niisan, she’s gonna kill me,”

Touya huffs out a little laugh, though his eyes do not leave yours as he considers.

Usually, the answer would be no, absolutely not. Touya has always refused to share your pussy with anyone—that was his and his alone. However…

If there’s anyone he would even think of sharing it with, he supposes it would be his brother.

“You wanna cum on his cock, baby?” he asks slowly, sapphire eyes watching you sharply, analyzing every micro-expression, every twitch of your brow, every quiver of your lips.

You’re unsure if it’s a trick question or not, but you’ve learned that it’s always best to be honest with your niichan—he’d know instantly if you were lying, anyway—so you nod, sucking on your bottom lip. “J-Just once,” you add, after a beat of silence.

“I mean, it is Christmas…” Touya trails off, looking over at his brother, who’s glassy gaze is glued to your face. “What do you say, Natsuo?”

“Seriously?” his eyes fly to Touya’s, wide with disbelief, not nearly as bold as he was in the living room. “I mean—I don’t—I’m not here to overstep any boundaries—”

“I know,” Touya cuts him off calmly. “I trust you,”

Trust. That’s rare with Touya, an honour to be told, and Natsuo’s eyes soften.

“It’d be a privilege to have you cumming on my cock, baby,” he tells you, voice so gentle, so sweet, so sincere, foiling the dirty words spoken.

But your fingers are trembling, tangled in your lap, and your heart is racing, pounding against your ribcage, and your mouth is dry, throat stuffed with cotton. Blood rushes in your ears as you look over at your niichan again, worried, scared. Is this a test? Is he really allowing you to ride someone else’s cock?

A frown materializes on his face and he stalks forward, stopping in front of you and reaching out to cup your cheek and tilt your head up, thumb caressing your cheekbone as he stares down at you.

“What is it, baby?”

“C-Can I really?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. “You won’t—You won’t be mad?”

Both men coo and Touya laughs, eyes shining in the dark. “No, I won’t be mad, princess,”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he nods, hand moving to pet your hair once. “Now, come on,” he gives you a light slap to the cheek, eyes darting to the bulge in Natsuo’s grey sweatpants. “Can’t wait to see you take that monster, baby,”

Monster isn’t exactly an exaggeration.

He’s bigger than Touya—not by much, maybe an inch or so longer, but considerably thicker. The head of his cock glimmers, decorated with a pearl of precum, thick and veiny and nowhere near as pretty as your niichan’s.

“Look at her,” Touya teases from his spot across from you, now perched on the edge of the other bed. “She’s already salivating over it,”

And it’s true, at least in part, your wide eyes glued to Natsuo’s cock as endless heat gushes, throbs, between your legs, little cunt suddenly feeling very empty. Touya’s been teasing you all damn night, an intense neediness building in your chest, powerless to stop the pathetic little whine that gets caught in your throat when Natsuo shifts on the bed, rearranging himself slightly and patting his spread thighs.

“C’mere, baby,” he’s saying as you climb over him, massive hands clutching your hips as you hover above his cock. “Lemme give you what you need,”

And the high pitched moan that slips from between parted lips as you sink down onto him is nothing short of pathetic. Natsuo emits a breathless little laugh as dark grey eyes watch the way your face screws up in discomfort, little whimpers spilling from your lips as he splits you in half.

“Aw, baby,” he murmurs, never slowing his pace as he forces your hips down, down, down. “We didn’t prep you properly, did we?”

No, they didn’t, neglecting to stretch you out at all, copious amounts of your own slick the only thing aiding Natsuo’s cock as he shoves it into you.

“Your fault, you know,” he whispers in your ear as he finally bottoms out. “If you hadn’t been so greedy, so eager to hop on my cock, maybe I would’ve let’cha cum on my fingers first. But what more could I expect from a slut?”

Your eyes snap open, inhaling sharply, unused to hearing Natsuo talk with such derision, unused to the way it makes your stomach positively swoop. He’s already looking at you, a small grin on his face, and, oh, he knows.

Natsuo doesn’t afford you a second to adjust to his girth, though, immediately bouncing you in his lap like you’re just some toy for him to use, hips bucking up into you wildly, malicious laughter escaping his chest as you whimper out Hurts, Natsuo, i-it hurts, Touya snapping at you to be a good little whore and just take it.

But the stinging fades quickly, like it always does, finally yielding to that heady mix of pain and pleasure, and it feels so good, the stretch is so good, Natsuo is so good.

Natsuo snickers, berating you for your extremely limited vocabulary, and you’re so cute, all stupid and fucked out like that from bouncing on his cock—you’re so fucking easy, aren’t ya?

His degrading is punctuated by his hard thrusts, blunt nails biting into the flesh of your hips as he fucks you, as he uses you, each piston of his hips forcing you closer and closer to that edge, the one Touya has already dangled you off of so many times tonight.

Todoroki cock must really make you dumb, huh? Turns you into nothing but a drooling, senseless little cocksleeve, isn’t that right, baby girl?

You’re having trouble concentrating on anything, really, overwhelmed by sensations and sounds, by Natsuo’s steady stream of words and the smack of your ass against his thighs.

Can’t even answer me, foolish little girl, already drunk with cock and we’re just getting started.

Yes, you whine, nodding your head in lazy little jerks, pushing the word out of your slackened mouth. Yes, yes, yes!

Your skin is crawling, itching, blazing, your head lolling to the side, connecting with glowing sapphire, and you swear you can feel his gaze on your body, leaving a trail of blistering heat in its wake.

His cock is still so hard, but he doesn’t touch it, completely captivated by you. He doesn’t ever want to forget this, he tells you, unblinking eyes searing into yours, wants to see the way your face contorts in ecstasy when you cum all over his brother’s cock, wants to commit it to memory.

And it’s Natsuo’s mean, belittling words, spoken in that saccharine sweet patronizing voice paired with each rough drag of his thick cock, plus Touya’s shallow breaths, little gasps and inhales, the way his dark eyes almost sparkle as he watches you, that have you creaming on Natsuo’s cock embarrassingly quickly.

Your eyes don’t leave his, though, sapphire all you can see as your orgasm tears through you almost violently, the pulsing release almost painful after being edged for so long, little pussy aching as it clenches around Natsuo’s cock.

A pathetic little whimper slips through your lips as your body collapses against Natsuo’s firm chest, head automatically nuzzling into his neck. His cock is still so hard inside of you, twitching as your hips involuntarily shift a little. Strong hands find your waist, a patronizing chuckle blanketing you as they begin to knead your flesh.

“Idiotic little girl, we aren’t done yet,”

The words are harsh, almost spit out with that small chuckle, dripping with condescension and rolled in icing sugar—and his tone is so ridiculing, speaking to you as if you’re so dumb, so silly and God, you really do go so stupid from cock, don’t you?

Another laugh rings out—niichan’s this time, and he’s saying something—something about Natsuo’s cum filling up that empty head of yours, you think—as Natsuo roughly rearranges your pliant body, pushing your head into the mattress and yanking your hips up.

It’s hard to focus on the words being spoken, brain hazy and floating on post-orgasmic clouds, but you’re fairly sure Natsuo’s promising to make good use of your cute, empty little skull, telling you it’s the perfect little cumbucket.

But Natsuo’s arrogance fades, finally, morphs into high, needy mewls and quiet little moans, interspersed with sharp intakes of air, sucking in curses and your name as he repeatedly rams into you, thrusts growing sloppier, massive hands keeping your hips held up.

“Oh, Christ,” the curse leaves Natsuo’s throat in a pitiful whimper. And although they were talking about it, joking about it, a mere twenty minutes ago, Natsuo knows he must still get permission. “Niisan, can I—can I cum inside?”

And his voice is so whiny, as if he’s begging Touya to say yes, harsh breaths ghosting over your bare back, cool against your heated skin and mingled with little half-grunts, ones that hitch in his throat as he continues to pound into you, pace never faltering.

Desperate pleads begin spilling from your lips almost instantly, urgent and uncontrollable, brain mushy with thoughts of ice cold hands on your waist and a thick cock buried within you, intoxicated by the scent of cool mint and tangy lemon.

“Oh, please, niichan, please,” you’re sobbing into the mattress, bleary eyes squinting as they try to focus on the watery blur you assume is Touya, still seated on the other bed. “Please, want his cum, want his cum for Christmas,”

“Holy fuck,” Natsuo’s gasps out brokenly, a loud moan reverberating in his chest. “Please, Niisan,”

Touya chuckles, and if it weren’t for the slight breathlessness to his voice, you would have figured him entirely unaffected. “Yeah, fine, go ahead,” he says passively, as if it makes no difference to him. “She’s a little cumslut, anyway,”

A steady stream of overlapping, practically incoherent thank you’s flow from yours and Natsuo’s mouths, getting lost between pitchy mewls and the slap of skin against skin as his taut hips meet your ass.

“Nat—Natsuo-nii!” you cry, so fucked out that the honorific doesn’t even register in your mind, blissfully unaware in that moment that you’re older than him, little hole pulsing around his thick cock. “Natsuo-nii, please, please, give it to me,”

“Oh God,” he chokes on the words, gurgling them in his throat.

His hips piston into you once, twice, three more times, and then they’re stilling, pressed flush against you as he falls forward, sweaty chest pressed against your back, strong arms caging you in as his cock throbs, filling your little cunt with powerful spurts of thick cum.

It’s like a rush of frost through your veins, not scalding the way Touya’s cum is, sending vicious shivers skittering across your skin. It’s soothing, almost, cool and pleasant and has you pushing back against him, hips wiggling a little as you try to milk him for just a bit more. Plush lips find the back of your neck, pressing kisses along your sweaty hairline, a tongue darting out a moment later to lap at the salty substance.

He stays pressed against you for a moment more before straightening up, pulling out with a hiss and heavily collapsing back on his heels, legs tucked under himself.

“Let’s see,” Touya’s saying, as if he’s asking Natsuo to show him his homework, not to examine his brother’s cum leaking out of your aching cunt. “God, look at that,”

You whine a little, hole fluttering as Touya gently blows hot air against it, and Natsuo groans out a curse, voice raw and wrecked.

Hands—Touya’s hands, you can tell, you’re sure of it—curl around your hips, halting them from their slight swaying. A soft, surprised yelp gets caught in your throat when you feel something wet, something warm, something strong, lick along your slit.

“Aw, niisan!” Natsuo scolds, emitting an indignant sound from the back of his throat. “That’s so…That’s so…” his voice tapers off into a soft whine that has Touya chuckling against your swollen lips, the tip of his tongue flicking against your clit teasingly before he pulls back.

But, wait, that isn’t fair!

“Niichan,” you whimper, hips squirming in his loose grasp. “Niichan, want some,”

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, hands running over the smooth skin of your ass, thumb caressing his scarred name. “You want some of Natsuo’s cum, too?”

“Please,” you beg, hole clenching again at the thought. You can feel it oozing out of you, thick and cold, and hate the thought of it being wasted on the bedsheets.

You expect Touya to swipe nimble fingers along your slit and gather cum to feed you, gasping loudly when you feel his tongue on you again. The strong muscle laps at the cum trickling down your inner thigh, then it’s curling against your cunt, inside of your cunt, collecting as much of the syrupy substance as it possibly can.

A hand fists in your hair, using it as leverage to yank your head up. Your mouth falls open instantly, expectantly, and Touya lets his younger brother’s cum—now watered down with his own saliva—dribble from his mouth into yours.

Natsuo chokes something out—you aren’t sure what, you weren’t listening, hyper-focused on the way sapphire burns into your skull as cream coats your tongue—and Touya’s open mouth molds into a sinful smile, still drizzling the sticky, viscous substance into your mouth, letting his tongue hang out of his mouth as gooey strings of white drip off of it.

“Such a greedy little baby,” Touya says after he’s emptied his mouth, voice almost affectionate. “Now be a good girl and swallow. Swallow for Natsuo,”

And you do, of course, because you are such a good girl, such a good girl for Natsuo, such a good girl for your niichan.

“You guys are nasty,” Natsuo almost pants out, failing to keep the whine out of his voice, gunmetal eyes scanning your little hole, licked clean and now gleaming with Touya’s saliva. “Fuck, that was—hey, wait…What’s this?”

“About time you noticed,” Touya mutters, and your heart sinks.

You know exactly what he’s looking at.

A beat of silence passes, and you keep your head buried in the sheets, terrified to move even an inch.

“What did…Did you…?”

“Yeah, with a soldering iron,”

“Jesus Christ,”

“I deserved it,” you whine out, muffled by the mattress, guilty tears springing into your eyes. “I was—I was very bad,”

Glowing ruby and soft, fluffy tufts of silvery-blue hair flash through your mind, eyes squeezing shut tightly as stinging spears rip through your chest, straight through your heart and right to the core of your body.

No. Now is not the time to think of him. It is never the time to think of him.

A tiny sniffle escapes, your chest hiccupping with it, and you clench your teeth hard, so hard your jaw aches, in an effort to keep any other sounds from escaping. Touya hushes you, large hand warm and heavy and oh so familiar on your lower back, thumb caressing the silky skin just above the swell of your ass. You’re good, he tells you, voice quiet but firm, and you nod into the sheets.

“That is so fucking hot,” Natsuo breathes out, eyes flying to the brand again, his voice breaking you out of the reverie you nearly fell into. “Can I touch it?”

The question startles you—no one else has ever touched it except for Touya. Your mouth stays shut, body stiff and still, waiting for your niichan to make the decision.

“Sure,” Touya finally answers, your entire body flinching when Natsuo reaches out to trace the name with his pointer finger, first forward; T, O, U, Y, A, and then backwards; A, Y, U, O, T, the letters echoing through your mind in Touya’s smooth, deep voice as he does so.

“Holy fuck,” Natsuo whispers as he sits back again, the bed jiggling a little with the motion. “That’s…”

Touya gazes down at it as he blows air out of his mouth, fingers running across it slowly, feeling the slightly raised letters of his name in an almost gentle caress.

He didn’t expect it to scar as bad as it did, his name forever etched into your skin in thin silvery streaks that almost shine when the light hits them right, but you didn’t seem to mind. It’s pretty, you had told him, in that gentle soft voice that makes his chest feel as though it’s blooming its own tiny ball of sunlight. It’s yours, niichan.

He wonders what Shouto would think, if he knew, how he’d feel, if it would make his throat burn and his eyes sting and his chest stutter, if he would weep for you. Touya hopes he would.

“Mine,” he whispers, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to it, his tongue darting out and laving over the entire name once before the tip traces the letters. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you whimper, hips greedily pushing back again. “Niichan, niichan, please,”

He hushes you, tells you he’ll give you his cock now, quiet, quiet, rearranging your body so you’re on your side and bending your legs, pushing them up towards your chest and revealing your little cunt to him. Large hands drag your hips to the edge of the bed, sure to keep the ass cheek with the brand facing upward, facing him.

The gentle clinking of his belt has your toes curling in anticipation, the head of his cock nudging your little hole a moment later.

He delivers one quick thrust, burying himself in your snug little cunt in a singular motion, groaning about how you’re still so tight, how you still feel so good, even after being pounded by his brother.  

His pace is merciless from the very beginning, hard and fast and so fucking deep, pulling broken cries and rough little whimpers from your raw throat, one of his hands on the mattress to stabilize himself while the other weighs down on you, pinning you to the surface.

“Niichan!” you’re squealing, Touya’s blunt nails digging into the meat of your thigh as he uses it to steady you, large hand splayed out on your skin. “Niichan, nii-niichan, it hurts,”

It more than hurts—hurts doesn’t even begin to describe the excruciating thorns of pain intermittently racing through your upper body as he slams against your cervix, shooting straight to your core and festering in your throat. You can feel them collecting in the column, wedged tightly between the gummy walls, and you choke on them, gag on them, coughing around them as you urgently gasp in air.  

“But you can take it though, right?” he pants out, cobalt eyes wide and frenzied as they burn into your face. “You can take it, because you’re a good little slut for niichan, aren’t you?”

Salt stains the back of your throat, tears and snot mixing as you sob into the mattress, face half-buried in the rumpled sheets.

Yes, yes, oh God yes, you want to be good for him. “Uh-huh,” you breathe out, the noise stuttering past your lips in time with the quick snap of his hips.

And, fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful like this, so fucking hot, taking his cock so well when he’s giving it to you so hard.

“Good,” he gasps, eyes zeroing in on his name etched into your ass, peaking out from between his thumb and forefinger, glimmering when it catches in the pale moonlight. “So fucking good for me,”

Because you are, with your dedication, and your submission, and your pure devotion to him as he brutally fucks you, taking everything he gives you, taking it so well.

And it’s these thoughts, swirling in his mind as you gaze up at him, a mess of sweat and drool and cum, teary eyes dazedly watching him like he’s some sort of god, that have his hips stuttering, filling you with cum, thick and hot and so much, your body going lax under his grip as he chokes out how much he loves you.

Senseless gurgling bubbles past your lips as you try to move, try to roll onto your back or uncurl your limp body, whining softly when you find that you can’t. Two silhouettes loom over you menacingly, the sound of laughter and mingled voices blanketing you, murmuring words you can barely make out. Another pathetic whine hitches in your throat, tongue sluggish in your mouth as you try to speak again, losing the battle with your heavy eyelids a moment later, finally engulfed in darkness. 

[celestialgyu]

An Equestrian Birthday

pairing ➤ taehyun x reader

warnings ➤ none!

wc ➤ 1.7k

tags ➤ established relationship, fluff, non idol au, birthday event

summary ➤ It's your favorite person (Taehyun)'s birthday and everything is on track to be perfect. Well, until you run into some unexpected itchy circumstances.

a/n ➤ for my solomons and taehyun enthusiasts! enjoy <33 and happy birthday to my bestest boy in the world, kang taehyun

You check the clock for the fifth time that afternoon, your breathing labored as you hang up the last of the lights.

"All done over here! Yeonjun, Hueningkai, how's the cake?" you call out to your friends in the kitchen. You chuckle when you see the design Yeonjun chose for the frosting. "Oh my god, what is that supposed to be?"

Kai glances over at you and laughs, "Yeonjun won't even let me do anything, and look at this! It looks like a headless squirrel." he says, pointing at the cake with Yeonjun hunched over it, seemingly trying to salvage the drawing.

You laugh at Kai's comment, grabbing your phone and opening your DMs to text Soobin, who was out with Beomgyu trying to keep Taehyun away from your house.

[Soobin]

You: soobin! how are you guys holding up?

Soobin: 😃 i want to die, we've been to six places so far trying to keep taehyun from going home

Soobin: and beomgyu is no help istg he keeps getting distracted

You: LMAO hold in there buddy 🙏 you can do this

Soobin: this is the sixth time hyun said he wants to hang out w you, simp 🙄

You: you love us anyways <333

You: we're almost done! give us thirty

Soobin: THIRTY?? fine bye

You: bye!!

You close your phone and fix a balloon that had gone astray, before checking the estimated time of arrival for Taehyun's birthday gift you had requested the week before. You knew Taehyun loved animals and had gotten him a pet. A pony, to be exact. The house you both lived in was your uncle's, a charming ranch house with stables in the back. As a kid, you would visit your uncle every summer, joining the local equestrian team and playing with your uncle's senior horses. When he passed away, you inherited the land and moved in with your boyfriend Taehyun. You smile to yourself as you imagine how he'd react to the present and new friend. Pleased, you hummed a little song to yourself, almost skipping over to the kitchen where Yeonjun and Kai were bickering about whether to put strawberries on the cake or not.

"Hyung, cmonnnn. He loves strawberries, right? It won't ruin anything, I'm sure of it," Kai argues, gesturing at the box of strawberries on the table.

"No, no, no, it'll ruin the taste. Since when do strawberries and rainbow cake go together?? We're using the sprinkles, leave me alone." Yeonjun retorts, grabbing the multi-colored sprinkles from the cabinet and dusting them on.

You nod, agreeing with Yeonjun on the sprinkles. "It looks so good, guys!! Well... except for that drawing, Yeonjun, why didn't you let Kai do it." you say as you observe the cake.

Yeonjun huffs, rolling his eyes at you. "Is it Bully Yeonjun Day or something? Did I miss the memo?"

"No, it's Taehyun's birthday." You chime at him, smirking as he flicked you off in response.

Your ringtone starts playing and you sprint over to your phone on the sofa, correctly guessing that Soobin was calling you. You answer as you lock eyes with Yeonjun and Kai, sending them the signal that Taehyun was probably on his way.

"Soobin? Are you on your way home?"

"Yes, we're on our way, Taehyun was being too persistent. You guys ready?"

"Umm," you pause as you look over the decorations and room, "Yes, yeah we are. But the present isn't here yet!"

"When is it coming?"

"The tracker says... oh in fifteen minutes!"

"Hmm, we're pretty close, like five minutes away."

"Ok, you know what, no problem. It should be here by the time the food is eaten, we'll be fine."

"Okay, bye then!"

"Bye, cya soon!"

You end the call and open the package tracking app, looking at the ETA. Ten minutes?! Gosh I hope it arrives in time.

"Y/n what'd Soobin say?" Yeonjun inquires, finishing up the last of the placements. "Everything looks good here, I think we're ready?"

You nod, scanning over the area. "I think so too." You smile to yourself as you imagine how happy your boyfriend would be with the surprise party.

Yeonjun grins at you, knowing exactly who you were thinking about. "Look at the little lovebird, so cute." he coos at you before turning back to the kitchen. "Don't worry about anything, I'm certain Taehyun will love this."

You turn away, embarrassed at being so easily read. But he's right, I have nothing to worry out. You reassure yourself as you grab your phone to dial the boys to see where they were.

Well no need, because they were already at the front door.

The doorbell rings through the house. "Guy's it's us! Open up!" Beomgyu's voice calls from outside.

You hurriedly stuff your phone into your jean pocket, glancing at Yeonjun and Kai who were hiding behind the living room door as you sprint into the foyer. You open the door and immediately get engulfed by Taehyun as he wraps you into a big hug.

"Baby, I missed you." he mumbles into your shoulder before letting you go.

You kiss him on the cheek, ignoring the gags coming from your left. "I missed you too, how was the new arcade?"

"Fun, but it would have been better if you were there." he pouts before breaking into a smile. "So! Where's the thing you promised me this morning and insisted on being vague about?"

You chuckle at his comment, placing your hands on his shoulders as you stand behind him. "Close your eyes."

He nods, closing his eyes. You walk him to the living room, pausing in front of the door. You make eye contact with the rest of your friends, nodding to each of them as they got in their places around the room.

"Okay, you can open them!" you exclaim, moving in front of him with your arms stretched outwards.

"SUPRISE!!!" everyone cheers in unison as Taehyun opens his eyes and takes in the decorations.

Taehyun turns to you, his eyes sparkling as a big smile takes over his face. "Y/n did you guys do this all for me? This is the best birthday party ever. Thank you all so much." he says as he picks you up and spins you around.

You giggle, tapping his arm to let you down. "Cmon, let's slice the cake!" you say as you point to the dining table where the food was set up.

"The cake is my creation by the way." Yeonjun says proudly as you grab the knife to slice it with.

"And I baked the cupcakes!" Kai chimes in, leaning over to light the "20" candle on the cake.

"Should we sing something? Like Happy Birthday?" Soobin asks and you all nod in agreement.

You gesture to Taehyun who was standing in front of the cake. "Blow it out! Three, two, one..."

He leans forward and blows on the cake, and you all cheer and begin singing the song. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to Taehyun~"

Bubby laughter surrounds the table as you all chat happily. You lean back, full after eating two slices and a cupcake. The doorbell rings and you shoot up to answer it, walking into the foyer. You open the door to see the delivery person, the pony behind them with a trainer.

"Are you Y/n L/n?" the woman asks, a clipboard in hand.

"Yes, I am."

"Okay, just sign here. Where do we place the pony?"

"The stables over here, please." you answer as you gesture to the back of the house. You lead the trainer with the pony over to the stables, and they left shortly afterward after giving you a few pointers.

You already know the pony's name and gender, a mare named Dahlia. She was beautiful, with a shiny black coat and well-kept mane and tail. There was a pink ribbon wrapped around her head, shaped in a perfect bow. You smile softly as you slowly approach her stable, careful not to scare her.

"Hi, Dahlia. I'm Y/n and I'm your new owner. Don't worry, I'll make sure you are as happy as can be here, okay? Now wait here!" you say, speaking gently as to help her warm up to you.

The pony eyes you for a few seconds before snorting, and you took that as an answer. You wave to Dahlia as you walk back into the house, making a mental note that the lawn needed mowing.

"In my opinion, the PS5 is a waste of money, just get the new Switch or the Oculus with that price tag!" Taehyun argued with Beomgyu and Soobin, engaged in a heated argument about whether the game console was worth it.

"Soobin already bought it, by the way. But how would a non-gamer know which consoles are better? Your opinion is irrelevant." Beomgyu responds cheekily, looking to Yeonjun and Kai for endorsement and waving his hand dismissively at them when they shrugged in response.

Taehyun opens his mouth to counter him but pauses when he feels a strong itch in his throat. He grabs his water and takes a few big sips but the feeling wouldn't subside and instead got stronger, the itch spreading to his nose and eyes. That's weird, it feels like an allergic reaction, but there's nothing here to which I'm allergic to...

He snaps out of his thoughts as you sit down next to him, looking at you with his brows furrowed. You eye him, eyebrows shooting up when you notice his face turning red.

"Taehyun, are you okay?" you say, concerned at how flushed he was. "Your entire face is bright red."

He opens his mouth to respond but gets cut off by a loud neigh, and everyone's head turns to the back door.

"Oh, Taehyun's present is here! Let's go see it!" Kai exclaims, getting out of his seat. "You'll love this present."

Everyone follows him to the backyard, you and Taehyun in the rear as you examine his face, worry evident in your face.

"Taehyun, did you eat something you're allergic to? Or touch it?"

"No, I don't think so..." he trails off, seeing the pony. He stares at it for a few seconds before looking at you.

"Y/n... why is there a pony with a pink bow around its head in our back yard?"

You look at him, the pony, and then him again, and it finally dawns on you. "Oh my god, are you allergic to horses?!"

© celestialgyu 2022 | all rights reserved

[clever-and-unique-name]

I think those were asked already, another shot: 15, 16 and 22? 💜

Aha, I appreciate your determination, nugget! <33 (I hope you're starting to feel better!)

15. When parts are working together in your life, what does that look like?

When things are going smoothly, we all have our respective roles and show up for the right things. We make space for each other and don't fight over what we're "supposed" to be doing or how we "should" react. When parts get triggered, they're listened to and their feelings respected. We treat each other respectfully as a baseline, and try to exercise genuine care. It's very nice, when it happens.

16. How does having a dissociative disorder affect your relationships to the people closest to you?

*deep sigh*

It's...complicated.

Having close relationships when you carry a minefield of social triggers is not easy in the first place. Intense shame, guilt, paranoia, feelings of inadequacy, all on a hair trigger and sprinkled across different parts with varying levels of communication.....AND THEN....the parts reacting to those triggered parts, insisting on immediate and total isolation, or snarky comebacks, or fawning into oblivion, or grinning and bearing it until it passes, all bickering with each other about what the right response is......

My head just started hurting. It's a lot. It's....god, it's a lot.

Relationships remain my most difficult area to traverse. When I show vulnerability, I tremble uncontrollably. When I'm shown tenderness, I burst into tears. I'm married and parts of me don't understand that our husband loves us. Hell, Abel just wrote a post earlier tonight from a place of feeling like the way she loves our husband is inadequate. (Sorry Abel, I know you didn't say that specifically, but I heard what you were thinking as you wrote it.)

I show undivided attention and lavish people with affection and care. I disappear for weeks. I feel guilty. I carve out time to check in with them. I feel inadequate. I try harder. I accept their support. I feel guilty. I disappear. I have to imagine...it's difficult maintaining a relationship with me.

So in short, having a dissociative disorder makes relationships feel uncertain and frightening. I have so many conflicting perceptions to deal with, and we collectively have such fierce longing for closeness as well as utter terror at being close. It's exhausting. I want friendships. I really do. We all do (even though some parts insist they're more trouble than they're worth.) But they are so much work. And god, I appreciate the people (like you, dear one) who have the patience to stay with me through it all. I appreciate you so, so much, I don't really have words for it.

(22 answered!)

[trelldraws]

The other night I was searching JSTOR for papers on 16th- and 17th-century German witch trials, as one does, when I came across this absolute showstopper of an abstract:

For 250 years insects and rodents accused of committing property crimes were tried as legal persons in French, Italian, and Swiss ecclesiastic courts under the same laws and according to the same procedures used to try actual persons. I argue that the Catholic Church used vermin trials to increase tithe revenues where tithe evasion threatened to erode them. Vermin trials achieved this by bolstering citizens' belief in the validity of Church punishments for tithe evasion: estrangement from God through sin, excommunication, and anathema. Vermin trials permitted ecclesiastics to evidence their supernatural sanctions' legitimacy by producing outcomes that supported those sanctions' validity. These outcomes strengthened citizens' belief that the Church's imprecation were real, which allowed ecclesiastics to reclaim jeopardized tithe revenue.

ME: THEY WHAT?

Needless to say, I had to click this paper, whereupon I passed in the course of several pages from wondering whether this was a really elaborate joke published in Chicago University's Journal of Law and Economics to literally crying with laughter:

Everyone has heard of a kangaroo court. But how about a court for kangaroos? What about a court for caterpillars? Impossible though it seems, for 250 years French, Italian, and Swiss legal systems had just that. Their ecclesiastic courts tried insects and rodents for property crimes according to the same procedures used to try legal persons. These courts summoned snails to answer charges of trespass, appointed legal counselors to locusts, and considered defenses for grasshoppers on the grounds that they were God's creatures. They convinced cockchafers of cozening crops, fulminated against field mice for filching from farmers, and exiled weevils under pain of excommunication and anathema.

Vermin trials were not the province of Dark Age ignorance or impoverished primitivism. They were of a much later, more enlightened vintage—a Renaissance one. Further, they occurred in the wealthiest countries in the world.

One interpretation of vermin trials is that the judicial officials who conducted them were mad. In examining these trials' records, it is tempting to conclude as much. In the records, we find distinguished judges ordering crickets to follow legal instructions, dignified jurists negotiating a settlement between farmers and beetles, and a decorous court granting a horde of rat defendants a continuance on the grounds that some cats prevented them from attending their trial.

-

[3] This paper considers ecclesiastic trials of vermin only. It does not consider the prosecution of domestic animals, such as dogs in pigs, in secular courts. For information on trials of domestic animals, which is often mixed with discussions of vermin trials, see Evans (1906) and Finkelstein (1981). For information on trials of inanimate objects, which is also occasionally mixed with discussions of animal trials, see Hyde (1916, 1917a, 1917b) and Pietz (1997). For information on animal trials under Roman law, see Jackson (1978).

This is so much absurdist litigation.

Early modern citizens' knowledge of pests and how to control them was poor. A perusal of pest control manuals used by professional farmers reveals just how poor. State-of-the-art Renaissance pesticides included sprinkling weasel ashes or water in which a cat had been bathed over fields to drive away mice; capturing a rodent, castrating it, and releasing it among other rodents to deter them; putting castor oil plants in afflicted fields to drive away moles; and hanging garlic around flock leaders' necks to protect sheep from wolves.[4]

[...]

Thus, it is unsurprising that, together with the other impressive remedies noted above, early modern farmers considered the ecclesiastical trial of vermin as a possible pesticide. Indeed, early modern pest control manuals explicitly advised farmers to use divine pesticide when confronted with difficult-to-resolve infestations. As one manual put it, "When all of these remedies are unsuccessful, one must turn to the ban of the Church" (Dannenfeldt 1982, p. 555).

Early modern citizens' divine-pesticide superstition is still less surprising when one considers the superstitions held by Europe's intellectual elite during the same period. These individuals held, for example, that the continent was infested by witches who had intercourse with demons and sole men's genitals while the men slept. When compared with this belief, simple farmers' belief that god might be able to exterminate pests is unremarkable.

[4] Early modern manuals contain a few pest control methods that are more sensible, for example, poison. But even these display incredible ignorance. One suggests using butter to poison rats.

-

Multiple communities beset by the same pests sometimes sued vermin collectively. For instance, in 1659 the Italian communes of Chiavenna, Mese, Gordona, Prada, and Samolico banded together to prosecute caterpillars they charge with trespassing on and damaging their fields.

A class action against caterpillars!!!

Ecclesiastic courts appointed defense attorneys to represent accused insects and rodents. Thus, when in 1519 the inhabitants of Glurns, Italy, sued some field mice for property damage, the court appointed legal counsel for the mice "to the end that they may have nothing to complain of in these proceedings" (Evans 1906, p. 112). Similarly, later that century, when the inhabitant of Saint-Jean-de-Maurienne, France, sued some weevils, the court appointed the creatures two legal representatives, a procurator and an advocate, "lest the animals against whom the action lies should remain defenseless" (Cohen 1993, p. 120).

Ecclesiastic judges showed impressive fairness towards vermin in such trials. Consider a fourteenth-century lawsuit brought against some flies by the inhabitants of Mainz, Germany. To the court's consternation, the flies refused to appear before the bench after being summonsed. The court concluded that "in consideration of their small size and the fact that they had not yet reached their majority," it would overlook the flies' failure to appear and would appoint them adequate defense counsel to prevent it from happening again (Evans 1906, pp. 110-11).

AAAAA

The lawyers representing vermin argued strenuously for their clients at trial. A common defense was that the defendants were God's creations. Thus, they had as much right to enjoy the fruit of His earth as the plaintiffs. Another common defense was that the case was invalid. Thus, the plaintiffs should be nonsuited.

One argument that vermin defense attorneys made towards this end was that their clients were vermin (Evans 1906, pp.98-99). This would have been a sensible argument against treating pests as legal persons—presumably the most sensible one—were it not offered by way of elaborate judicial proceedings that presumed the legitimacy of treating grasshoppers and moles as legal persons ipso facto.[6]

Procurators on both sides "took their job very seriously, devoting a great deal of time, knowledge, and legal expertise to the defense of their clients" (Cohen 1993, p.120). Vermin trials involved much legal wrangling. And judges at least pretended to be at great pains to decide cases justly.

[6] According to Chassenée (1531), another legal manuever [sic] attorneys for vermin resorted to was to argue that their clients were clerics, which entitled the vermin to the benefit of clergy. This would have permitted insects and rodents to have an ecclesiastic judge decide their case when the bishop granted jurisdiction to a secular magistrate (Evans 1906, pp.32-33). No vermin counselor ever used this argument. Still, the possibility that caterpillars or field mice might be men of the cloth was an argument the courts were willing to entertain.

By this point I was actually wheezing. Quoth a friend, accurately, upon being sent this excerpt: "???????????????? / The biggest, longest question mark of my life" ME FUCKING TOO

[7] Vermin often lost their case by default. Judges summoned vermin to appear in court to answer the charges against them three times. "The summoners were . . . served in the usual way by an officer of the court, reading them at the places most frequented by the animals" (Jamieson 1988, p. 51). If the vermin failed to respond to the third and final summons, the court could convict them.

-

To ensure that all members of the convicted species were aware of their sentence, the court announced the its verdict publictly and nailed broadsheets declaring its judgement to trees in the affected area. Alternatively, the court might bright some specimens before the bench to inform them of its decision, remitting the creatures to the afflicted area to share the decision with their colleagues (Dinzelbacher 2002, p. 410).

PLEASE!!!

TL;DR this whole paper was just such an experience, thank you god and the University of Chicago, I've never laughed so much in the course of reading an academic publication in my life, well-researched this is not but imagine submitting this paper with a straight face, this man has won academia

[cranesofibycus]

a collection of CR headcanons

A week ago I asked for 29 Critical Role headcanons for my 29th birthday. I got 33. Thank you all so much for sending them in, they made that day such a good one. I thought I’d share the joy, so here they are! 

Jester

At some point, for funsies, Artagan tied Sprinkle's life force to Jester's, so the weasel has her hitpoints (@iisuikyouii)

Jester's Spiritual Guardians make tiny rainbow poops. (@kaarchin)

Post-campaign, Jester writes her own wildly successful smutty romance novel. (@the-littlest-goblin)

Sprinkle is just the tiniest bit magical. I don’t know how or what kind of magic, but he is. (@the-littlest-goblin)

Jester is much older than we all think. (anonymous)

Beau

Years in the future, teenage TJ runs away from home to visit Beau at the Zadash Cobalt Soul. He ends up going back eventually but they have a very nice bonding weekend where she teaches him how to throw a proper punch and tells him he doesn’t have to take over the family business if he doesn’t want to. (@the-littlest-goblin)

At some point when she’s much older Beau will need reading glasses but she will refuse to wear them, much to Caleb’s annoyance. She will place books on the other side of the table in the library and squint really hard “SEE, I DON’T NEED GLASSES. THIS IS FINE” (anonymous)

Veth

Veth loves being back in her halfling body but sometimes she misses the freedom of being seen as a feral goblin and getting away with all kinds of “nasty” behavior. (anonymous)

Luc has a level in rogue by the time he’s ten. (@the-littlest-goblin)

Veth taught Caleb how to braid her hair so now it has become their morning ritual. (anonymous)

Caleb

Caleb's mom had a difficult pregnancy and birth, which is why he's an only child in a farming community (@iisuikyouii)

Caleb is like 5'4" and the only people in the group shorter than him is Veth and somehow miraculously Jester by like half an inch (@ishti-ishti)

When the blumendrei were at school, whenever Astrid and Caleb went on dates Eodwulf would end up going with them and it was just a thing, because they didn’t realize they were in a polycule. (anonymous)

There is a librarian at the Soltryce Academy who often wonders what happened to the kind, blue-eyed, red-haired boy who ran about the stacks, piled books high on his table like The Candles of the Shimmerward. A stronghold of a mind sat in their shadows, but awe, wonder, and ambition showed on his face. He'd leave, often in the company of 2 of his classmates. That made the librarian happiest. A mind like that belonged in the light. (@swagsolidarity)

Caduceus

Caduceus cooking for people to bring them closer together is something he picked up from his Aunt, and is one of those "third kid" gifts - something for him to stand after Colton and Calliope. (@iisuikyouii)

Caduceus Clay is aro ace!! (anonymous)

Caduceus has secret therapy sessions with Sprinkle. (anonymous)

Fjord

Sabien is Fjord’s former lover and that’s part of the reason he’s desperate to find him. (anonymous)

If Fjord had made it to the Soltryce Academy he would’ve become Trent’s newest pet-experiment, possibly training with Eodwulf (anonymous)

Fjord is not from Wildemount (but he’s not an alien either lol) (anonymous)

Yasha

Yasha actually has a lovely singing voice and a knack for music and her low performance score is because she sings too quietly for anyone to hear and she makes really weird and off-putting faces when she's focusing on an instrument. (anonymous)

Zuala made the first move with Yasha, because Yasha was as horribly awkward with her as she is now with Beau. (@the-littlest-goblin)

Molly

Lucien/Molly has at least some recollection of his time as Molly, and the Tomb Takers have hired the Bad-Luck Bandits to aid them at this time. (@cattatra)

Vox Machina

After c1, Percy and Keyleth get a set of mirrors enchanted so they can have fantasy facetime chats whenever. His hangs above his desk so she can see him and out to the grounds through the window. She takes hers on walks while they chat and shows him the gardens or her sun tree, or sometimes they just kinda virtually hang out while they work. (@a-case-for-wonder)

I can imagine Keyleth and Caduceus hitting it off and becoming nature-loving buddies that meet up for tea (taking my wholesome headcanon and making it kinda sad: they're both much more long-lived than their parties so they can take solace in each other) (@flowersforvex)

Misc

The big bad end boss is Tharizdun; we are SO not done with that guy yet and since two the shackles are in Rexxentrum and Whitestone it actually makes sense that VM might be occupied elsewhere while we see the MN's point of view. (@flowersforvex)

Yussa is a client of Marion's, but he also has agoraphobia so they're erotic pen pals. That bathtub was his gift to her. (@swordshapedleaves)

The gods walk among Exandria. (@alan713ch) 

If Essek ever gets the option to be consecuted he refuses since he never wants to live without the M9 and he knows already he'll be doing that for at least 1000 years and he doesn’t vibe with it. (@adira-trek)

Essek is ace (@the-littlest-goblin)

Reani and Fen do eventually get married.  (@the-littlest-goblin)

The housekeeper that the m9 hired basically moved into the Xhorhaus and has been living it up there rent-free. One time Essek went by and found her chilling on the rooftop garden. (@the-littlest-goblin)

Everyone in the m9 is either autistic or has ADHD or both. (@rwbypro)

[jas-the-shrimp]

I posted 2,509 times in 2021

221 posts created (9%)

2288 posts reblogged (91%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 10.4 posts.

I added 35 tags in 2021

#the arcana - 5 posts

#wholesome - 4 posts

#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa - 4 posts

#beautiful - 4 posts

#.... - 3 posts

#resident evil 8 - 3 posts

#yep - 3 posts

#i love this - 3 posts

#noice - 3 posts

#... - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

So I have decides that I might start writing arcana headcanons (for fun)

Sooo you can request stuff here if you wanna-

Oh and one note

It will take long-

Trigger warning for the next text

Keep in note that I will not write

- P3dophilia,r4pe and inc3st and smut

- and I won't write about character - character ships btw

- and again I do not write nsfw stuff

- I'm not comfortable with toxic relationships between mc and m6 btw

But I do write about

- hardcore angst,fluff and headcanons and I will also do match ups :)

Fandoms that I write about

The arcana

And maybe res evil 8?

25 notes • Posted 2021-07-13 08:49:47 GMT

#4

So I posted something that will make sense eventually

You are wheat bread!!

I haven't seen your post yet but ayyy I like bread!

I'll be checking it out!

So I just checked it out and thanks alotttt

Tbh you are wheat bread too! With a sprinkle of gay in it

26 notes • Posted 2021-07-30 05:23:54 GMT

#3

Hear me out

Julian devorak in this

Yes

33 notes • Posted 2021-07-27 16:57:32 GMT

#2

Aew

50 notes • Posted 2021-07-13 16:55:47 GMT

#1

Could we maybe have some dancing headcanons with the main 6?

Do they make it a whole grand event with ballgowns and an orchestra or is it just dancing in the kitchen in pyjamas at 3am? What do they whisper into your neck at such close proximity? How long does the dance last and how does it come to an end?

(Lmao, I have danced alone, in the dark kitchen, at night, imagining the love of my life in my arms, before, and that makes me sad.)

Alright so I hope I don't mess up on this bUuUt

This is my first time so I hope you don't minddd

And same tbh I also dance alone :') I ended up crying anyways

Main 6 dancing with Mc

Noww I'll start with

♥️ julian

- You're in rowdy raven and everyone is cheering for both of you while dancing in charisma

- You two are full of pride after all those dedication and work and now celebrating for the success

- He's Soo happy to have you here and he wants you to know it

- while the place is full of muffled conversations and laughter with music , he gets even closer while dancing

- You two locked eyes to eachother as he looked at you in awe

- He's gets close to your ear and he lowers his voice "I'm glad to have you here mc..."

- And ofc you two head back to your place and cuddle and boi his legs are over the bed cause he's tall af-

- He's such a gorgeous person

💙 asra

- you and him at your shop dancing peacefully

- they're very glad that you've made it this far

(Side note that all the m6 is going to be happy for you thoooo)

- Faust obviously looks very happy watching you two dance

- The smell of incense in the room makes you feel very comfortable as asra's hands holding with yours

- You look at him and he's smiling..abit of a smirk but a genuine smile

- well that turns into a big grin and his dimples made you adore them even more

- "You're everything I could ask for mc"

- well shit your face is red now and you can already feel the heat in your neck as he's laughing at your reaction

- literally asra looks so ethereal when the the moonlight shines over him

- but ur eyes are dying rn because it's BuRnInGgG

💜 Nadia

See the full post

197 notes • Posted 2021-07-23 11:26:34 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →I'll